peggy burns

10

TURN: Washington’s Spies | S4E6 Our Man in New York

↳ “Tis important that we allies understand each other clearly.

3

May she rest in peace

Your laugh sounds like love

Pairing: Peggy Schuyler x Reader

Request: What about a whoever you want (preferably Alexander or Peggy) x reader with the ‘Wait, did you just flirt with me?’ 'Have been for the past year but thanks for noticing’ thing? it would be so fluffy and sweet

Word count: 928 (This is the shorter one I’ve written so far!)

Time period: Modern

Warnings: None. This is pure fluff! 

Note: The 'Wait, did you just flirt with me?' is not graphically there but is still pretty evident and in the end, the result is the same. 

To be honest, I don’t know what the heck I was trying to do with the narrative here so it may be different from my usual style (and kinda weird). But I really had a good time writing this. And I hope you like it too!  ♡

________________________________

Peggy was sprawled all across your bed, flipping through one of your old magazines, wondering why in the world you would keep an exemplary of 2010. Distantly, she could hear you complaining about how you had nothing to wear, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at your oh so big problem.

“You should consider showing up naked” she teased with a smirk, eyes still glued to the article of a new British-Irish boy band formed in The X Factor that seemed to be promising.

“Ha, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you retorted, throwing away the red blouse you thought looked nice just a second ago.

“Actually I would” she agreed, and you stuck your tongue out at her, making her laugh “We could totally forget about this and spend the night together” she proposed excitedly, leaving the magazine aside and sitting on her knees “You know, watch Netflix and order some Chinese takeout”  

You snorted “Yeah, I can tell the guys will be happy to be canceled at the last minute”

With a champagne dress in your left hand and a black one in the other, you made your way to the bed, sitting next to her. Choosing what to wear could be really exhausting.

“Oww, come on! They won’t even notice our absence!” Peggy whined, getting closer to you and resting her chin on your shoulder “They’ll be too drunk to care anyway” she alleged, and you could see her pouting from the corner of your eye.

“Well, there you have a point” you conceded with a side smile, leaning your head against hers “And to be honest I’m tired of making a mess of my closet”

“So is that a yes?” she asked not bothering to hide her Cheshire cat smile “Please, (Y/N), tell me is a yes! Tell me you’ll stay here with me on your stupidly adorable rabbit pajama eating take out and watching Ratatouille!” she exclaimed wrapping her arms around your waist and squeezing you “Come on, say yes! Please, please, pleaseee”

You couldn’t hold back the loud and bubbly laugh you let out, just the kind of laugh that always made something flutter in Peggy’s stomach. And you both knew it was definitely a yes.

Minutes later the two of you were already chilling on your couch, covered with blankets, sitting close enough so that whenever any of you moved even slightly some part of you touched. It felt right and you liked, so you moved even closer to her searching for warmth.

You didn’t notice but Peggy turned to you, watching you as a big smile appeared on your face when Remy and Linguini were cooking for the first time. And her heart skipped a beat because of course only you would smile like a child to something so simple. The fact that she had a ridiculously huge crush on you didn’t help either.

“Hey, you doofus the movie is not on my face” you teased when you finally noticed her staring, giggling a little.

She took a second to recover and then giggled too “I couldn’t help it, you were making that funny and cute face of yours”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth quirked up “Well I think you look funny and cute like this” you said lifting both your hands to her cheeks, pinching them playfully and moving them up and down.

“That’s not fair!” she squeaked “You’re deforming my face!” she accused you with fake anger that was immediately replaced by her laugh. And you laughed too, teasing her some more before finally releasing her abused cheeks.

At this point the movie was just noise in the background, both of you were totally focused on each other’s face letting the laugh die slowly. It was funny to realize Peggy could look beautiful even when her face was flushed and her hair was a disaster falling wildly literally everywhere, and it was funnier with Gusteau’s voice saying something about soup or whatever. You only knew you wanted to make her laugh more and more.

But before you could say or do anything else, she then leaned closer and kissed you with the same tenderness with which a butterfly would pose on a flower. It was warm and soft, almost familiar; just like returning home after a long time.

You felt her hands trembling slightly when she clutched at the fabric of your pajama, so you cupped her face softly, kissing her back slowly and lovingly; feeling your breaths mixing and her lips brushing almost shyly against yours.

The moment was suddenly broken when Peggy pulled away with panic in her eyes, realizing that you were, in fact, her best friend, and apparently her stupid crush was not so under control like she thought it was.

You stared at her utterly confused and it felt just like if a piano had fallen on her in that exact second because that look just could mean that you regretted kissing her back, and she had ruined everything and you would never want to see her again and…

But then you smiled at her, with that sweet smile that could make everything better, and throw yourself in her arms, whispering “you like me” in her neck just like it was the word’s bigger revelation “Peggs, you like me” you said again leaving small pecks on her neck, and the happiness in your voice was so overwhelming she almost cried.

“I’ve been flirting with you for the past year but thanks for noticing” She chuckled, holding you closer.

5

wips of a schuyler sisters animatic

Ficlet: Government Property

Steggy Positivity Week - [3/7] Firsts

Peggy sighed and dropped the last report on the top of the stack.  She didn’t mind going through them as long as they provided her with decent information.  Three weeks and no intel to show for it.  She was starting to think they’d hit a dead end.  All that was left was for Steve and his squad to return, hopefully with the information the SSR so desperately sought.  Until then she could do nothing else but sleep.

Her tent was a short distance away.  She was lucky when they were in the field; she had a tent all to herself.  That didn’t stop the droning snores of the men from reaching her ears, however.

She had just started to remove her uniform jacket when she heard a scuffling noise outside her tent.  She scrambled for her pistol, disengaging the safety, when she heard familiar whispers.

“Peg? You awake?”

She ripped the tent flap aside to see Steve poised to knock. He smiled sheepishly when he noticed her rage.

“You do realize I could have shot you.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t,” he waved off. 

She was relieved he was alive and well in one piece but that didn’t mean her sleep had to suffer.  She was about to retreat inside her tent when she noticed his wrist.  Her hand shot out to grab it.

“What happened to you?  Was it Hydra?  Were those chemical weapon reports correct?”

Steve could barely slow her questions down to answer them.  He didn’t have to.  Bucky appeared behind Steve.

“So far no chemical weapons, Carter,” he interrupted with a laugh.  Steve looked down, his face flushing with color.  Bucky cleared up her confusion.

“This idiot thought he could drink a cup of coffee drivin’ like the devil in the dark.  Had coffee all over himself when we met up.”

“I woulda been fine if that ditch hadn’t come outta nowhere.”

With a final clap of Steve’s shoulder, Bucky faded into the dark.

Shaking her head, she moved aside for him to enter the tent.

“I’m fine, really,” he assured.  He gingerly found a seat on her cot.  “Luckily it wasn’t a full cup.  I didn’t even think it would burn me to be honest.  I think that’s the first time that’s happened.”

“That better be the only time it happens.”  She fished around her footlocker until she found the salve she was looking for.  His face showed confusion when she turned around.  She sighed.

“You do realize that a burn caused by oneself, such as from the sun or coffee in this instance, is a direct violation of article 115?”

“… no?”

“’Damaging government property,’“ she cited.  She rubbed the salve soothingly over his skin.  She noticed it already looked better than a few minutes ago.  “As a solider, you are government property.”

His eyes were fixed on her hand.  The salve had long since been absorbed by his skin but she didn’t want to give up the contact.

“I guess I’ll have to deal with any punishment you want to dole out,” he murmured slowly, his voice languid and sleepy.

“Oh no, it won’t be me this time.  I’ll leave that to Colonel Phillips.  It’s been far too long since he’s yelled at anyone.”

She almost laughed at his crestfallen face.  She didn’t bother mentioning his wrist would have long since healed by the time Phillips saw him.  At any rate, a few kisses would surely take his mind off his coffee mishap. 


Article 115 - Malingering (1) feigns illness, physical disablement, mental lapse or derangement; or(2) intentionally inflects self-injury.  Doubtless that it’s actually enforced in a case such as this except by commanders looking to mess with his or her troops. 

Burned- Part Two(Marliza Fic)

Note: what’s this?? She wrote a second part??? OH YES!

Warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing(I think), and being a terrible sister

Tags: @secretschuylersister @steiiarrs @butlinislin @maybe-mikala @queerenbian @ham4fan-fiction (I think that’s it pls tell me if I missed you)

Word count: 3063(considerably shorter than part one but hey)


I walked forward and putting my hands on the back of a chair, locking my elbows. “What do you mean she’s ‘missing’?” I asked, looking from Philip Schuyler, to my parents, and to the man with the 5 o’clock shadow.

“By definition, ‘missing’ tends to mean absent from home and in a place of unknown whereabouts,” 5 o’clock shadow man answered, who was apparently a walking dictionary. “And in this case, Eliza has been missing since last night, which is a commonplace state for her, yes?”

“She’s always been running away. First it was Maryland– she spent an entire week in Chesapeake Bay. The only damn clue about where she was was a book about the start of the American colonies in Maryland. Then it was New Jersey, Weehawken, actually,” Philip said, breaking off with a scowl. “I don’t understand how Angelica turned out perfectly and Eliza is… not.” I repressed the urge to bring up the simple fact that Angelica slept with her sisters boyfriend. Which, by definition, would make her very not-perfect.

“Philip-” my mother began, but was cut off.

“I can only hope that Peggy turns out like Angelica– she was the dream to raise, never caused trouble, always home by curfew. She’s a good person.” As he said those words, I couldn’t help but to think of the box of condoms sitting in the drawer in her nightstand, and I knew that he would most definitely not find Peggy perfect after those were found.

“Eliza’s a better person than Angelica ever will be,” I muttered, in the vain hope that no one had heard me. No one seemed to, and Philip continued on. Finally, 5 o’clock shadow man/walking dictionary man cleared his throat.

“Maria, I’d like to have a word with you,” he said, crossing his arms and pulling a pen from his breast pocket. “Would it be alright to have a word with her, alone?” He asked, more to my parents than to me.

“I don’t see what Maria could possibly know that could help you, sir,” my father answered.

“With all due respect, Richard, Maria saw Eliza at school– a place where her father rarely saw her. Maria could have some information for me that will help out in maybe finding Eliza and bringing her home safe.”

“Now, hold on,” Philip interjected. “I dont want Eliza living in my house again. She’s eighteen. She has a boyfriend, and I’m sure Alexander or Angelica would be more than happy to let her stay,” Philip announced. “Frankly, I want to focus on making sure the last of my girls doesn’t run away a month from the last day of school.”

“So, is that a yes?”


I lead 5 o’clock shadow man/walking dictionary man into the little office that my father spent most of his day slaving away in. I sat down on the desk, kicking my legs and looking down at the worn carpet, while my soon-to-be interrogator sat in the cracked and worn office chair pushed in the corner of the room. I could remember spinning around in that chair until I was dizzy and couldn’t stand straight.

“Maria, I know that you know something that you aren’t telling your parents, or Mr Schuyler,” he said, pulling out a notepad from the inside of his immaculate suit. “I’m Mr Lancaster, by the way.”

“Maria Lewis,” I replied, even though he already knew my name. “What exactly do you think I’m not telling you?”

“I think that a girl surrounded by people– people that she feels don’t understand her, or are against her– is going to turn to the girl that has everything she could ever wish for.” None of what this man was saying made sense. Eliza had everything– a boyfriend, her sisters by her side, friends and good grades– but that’s where it finally hit me; Eliza may have had everything, but everything didn’t seem to want to have her. “Eliza felt alone in the crowd, and you were never in a crowd but you were so not-lonely that Eliza found someone she could turn to. Am I right?”

“Not too far off, I’d imagine.”

“Good,” Mr Lancaster leaned forward in his chair, writing on his notepad. “Now, something goes wrong. Eliza gets in a fight with her boyfriend or has a disagreement with one of her sisters– something small. Then, she decides she can’t take it the way it is, and up and disappears.” I very much wanted to interrupt, because your boyfriend cheating on you with your older sister, your best friend, is not a small and petty thing. Not to someone who had spent 99% of their time with their older sister, trading secrets and telling jokes. For the girl who burned every person but one that came too close, and having that one burn her? This was not a small thing.

“And everyone has to have an outlet, right?” He seemed to want a reply, so I nodded. “Good. Now what could that outlet possibly be?” He looked at me for a moment, and in that bundle of seconds I knew that he thought one thing– he thought that I knew where Eliza was. He had thought up the most ridiculous solution possible, and he seemed to believe it to be true.

“I dont know,” I answered, then added, “sir,” for good measure.

“I think that outlet would be the one girl that Eliza could trust. And I think that girl is you,” he said. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“If you’re assuming that I could possibly, by some miracle, know where Eliza is,” I began. “Then you are so far off the tracks that I’m not even sure if you started on them in the first place.” Mr Lancaster almost cracked a smile– almost.

“My guess, is that you know where she is. You just dont know it yet.”

“How could I possibly-”

“I’ve worked every case for this girl– that’s five total missing person cases for the same girl that can’t seem to choose a place and stay there like the good girl she should be,” he started. “And in people like that, there’s always an accomplice. She can’t bear to sit still for long enough to plan this all unless she starts it in her head and writes down exactly nothing.”

“Eliza has never once asked me to be a part of anything that she’s done.” This, of course, was a lie.

“I dont think so,” Mr Lancaster replied. “I think you’ve been part of one, at least. And I think I know what it was.”

“I dont know what you’re talking about,” I replied, thankful for my skill of keeping a level-head. Mr Lancaster shook his head, and pulled a phone out of his pocket. He pulled up a photo, and handed the phone to me. The picture showed the light blue e spray painted onto the wall in Peggy’s room, the identically coloured m next to it, albeit smaller. My shoulders slumped.

“Look, I don’t know what you two managed to do last night, I don’t know who you went after, but I certainly would like to know,” he began. “And I would also like to say that I wouldn’t wanna be those people.”

“You can’t tell my parents.”

“As long as you two didn’t kill anyone, then the story stays with you, me, Eliza, and that creepy clown painting in the corner.” And so I told him. I told him about Eliza somersaulting through my window, about lying to my mom to get tacos, about going to the store and going to Angelicas and going to Alexander’s and going back to her house before burning the love letters at the campgrounds. I told him about dropping Eliza off at some time past midnight. I told him about Goodbye, Maria. instead of Goodnight, Maria. After I was finished telling, his face stayed in a way that said he was not quite finished listening.

Finally, he said: “Maria, why did Eliza go after her sisters and boyfriend?” And suddenly the still listening face made sense.

“Angelica slept with Alexander. Several times.”

“And Peggy?” Mr Lancaster asked.

“Peggy knew, apparently.”

“Well,” Mr Lancaster said, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands. “This is definitely a new one.”


Mr Lancaster finally seemed satisfied that I had offered every bit of information I had, and he left with Eliza’s father. “What an assface,” I said, after Mr Lancaster and Philip had left. “Abandoning his own daughter.”

“It seems like Eliza abandoned him,” my father interjected, and I wanted to reply but didn’t seem to know how. Instead, I went upstairs, ignoring Jane Eyre.

Mammamiaitsmaria: Quinn, Sarah, you better get the fuck online right now before i explode

NotSarahJessicaParker: the mighty Quinn hath been usurped(she got grounded)

Mammamiaitsmaria: Eliza ran away

NotSarahJessicaParker: isn’t this the twenty millionth time?

Mammamiaitsmaria: no, Sarah. But I was the last person to see her before she disappeared

NotSarahJessicaParker: That certainly adds to the mysteriousness in all of this

Mammamiaitsmaria: I want to find her

NotSarahJessicaParker: we all do. I gotta go, I’m being summoned

I watched Sarah’s icon change from a bright blue to a grey, signifying she had left. I closed the chat room, and shut my laptop, tilting the back of my head over my chair and blowing out a breath through my teeth.

I knew full well that Eliza would not be found until she wanted to be– she was too smart and non-stop for that, and any fault in her planning was always noticed. She was too well put together to be discovered before she had her chance to see everything and take it all in. Her mind worked like a constantly-changing jigsaw puzzle, making her forever the enigma.

“Maria, dinner!” I groaned, turning out of my chair and rushing down the stairs. I helped myself to some of the spaghetti sitting on the counter, and sat down at the table with my parents, mid-conversation.

“The car had much less gas this morning than it did when I came home,” my mother said, tucking some of her loose curls behind her ear. “I know that Maria went out for a bit, but this was a drastic change.” I ignored them, knowing that it was better for my fate if I couldn’t process what they were saying. She finally came to a conclusion and changed to subject, and the political talk began again and I fully ignored them. I finished eating walked back into the kitchen and put my plate in the sink, before rushing back upstairs and poking through Jane Eyre before taking a shower.

I pushed my wet hair away from my face and stared at myself in the mirror. I still looked the same, but I didnt feel the same. It was amazing how an event can so drastically change the way you look on the inside, but your outside seems exactly the same.

I dragged myself into bed, rolling away from the window. Even though I knew it wasn’t going to happen, I desperately wished that Eliza would push open the window and somersault into my room one last time.


“So, Eliza’s gone missing?” Quinn asked, as soon as I walked into school. Her trumpet case was hanging loosely in her hand, and her glasses were falling down her nose. “Sarah told me,’ she added, before I could ask.

“It sure seems like it.” I reached up, fixing Quinn’s glasses.

“Why do you want to find her?” Quinn questioned quietly.

“Because I was the last person to see her before she up and disappeared. Wouldn’t you want to find her if that was the case?” Quinn was silent for a moment, before nodding.

“I have to get to band,” she finally said, and rushed off, her trumpet case swinging behind her. I considered following her and sitting in on the early band rehearsal just to listen, but I decided that getting to class early and reading some more Jane Eyre. I beat the bell to my seat, and sat through the slowly-ticking clock. Finally, the cass ended and I was free for another ten minutes. I knew that Sarah and Quinn had second period together, so I could meet them outside of the band room and walk to their class, and still have enough time to get back to mine.

I met Sarah and Quinn outside of band, and we made it halfway to their classroom before the last person in the world we expected to walk up to us, walked up to us. She stopped in front of our trio, holding her colour-coded folders against her chest like a lifeline, her short-cut curls falling in her eyes, and her face pulled down from lack of sleep.

“Hi,” Peggy said. “I assume you know that Eliza has gone missing?”

“We’re aware,” Sarah answered, a new kind of tone in her voice, and it was in that moment that I remembered Sarah’s completely, totally, unadulterated crush on Peggy Schuyler.

“Do you also know about what she pulled in my room?” Peggy asked, caution in her voice. “Because I still haven’t been able to clean it all up.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“What did you– oh, you’re the lowercase m, aren’t you?” She gave a half smile or realization, and let out a breathy laugh.

“That would, in fact, be correct.”

“I figured as much,” she said. “So, what exactly did Eliza have you help her with?”

“I’m not exactly sure you’re the kind of person that Eliza would want me to tell, Peggy.” Her face fell, and the slight hope that had ignited in her eyes dimmed.

“If it has to do with Angelica,” Peggy began, tightening her grip on the folders. “Then I didn’t know.”

“How would you not know? Angelica is your sister,” Quinn butted in, raising her eyebrows.

“Because no one told me,” she answered. “But John knew, and as soon as I found out I dumped him. I can’t believe Angelica did that,” Peggy muttered, tapping her foot against the ground angrily.

“Well if John-” Sarah began, but Quinn stomped on her foot, effectively shutting her up.

“I told Angelica what I thought about what she did. I told her to put our sisterhood aside and that I’m not standing at her side. I’m with Eliza on this one, she didn’t deserve this.” Peggy’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and in that one moment I couldn’t think of anyone I wouldn’t want to be less. Peggy had somehow lost both of her sisters in the span of twenty-four hours, both of them at the hands of the other, and it left Peggy alone.

“I believe you,” I finally said. “Come to my house after school, and I’ll explain everything. Okay, Peggy?” She nodded, and muttered something about needing to get to class before hurrying off, her folders still pressed to her chest.

“I’m gonna ask her out,” Sarah said, as soon as Peggy was out of our general area.

Quinn looked at her dumbfoundedly. “No,” she said, as thought this was the obvious answer, and shook her head a little.

“Do not do the stupid thing,” I counseled.

“Imma do the stupid thing,” Sarah said, and walked away.

“She’s not even going in the direction of our class,” Quinn said, flabbergasted. “The complete and utter disregard she has to what’s going on around her amazes me sometimes.”


My mothers car was absent from the driveway when I arrived home that afternoon, so I knew that she had to be working late. Peggy had told me to expect her sometime around four, so I had just enough time to eat something before Peggy got here to discuss Eliza.

I devoured a pop tart, and read some more Jane Eyre, before the doorbell rang and I answered it. Peggy was standing there, and had pulled her curls out of her face. “Hi, and thanks, Maria.”

“It’s no problem.” She walked in, and stopped at the livingroom.

“Where do you wanna talk at?” She asked, turning to face me.

“Do you want to go up to my room, that way if my mom comes home while we’re talking, she doesn’t interrupt us?” Peggy nodded, and I let her follow me upstairs and into my room. She sat down crossed-legged on my chair, and I set of my bed, dangling my legs over the endboard.

“So, what was Eliza’s master plan?” Peggy asked, and I explained how Angelica had told Eliza about the affair. I told her how she came into my room, and brought me along to buy some things and execute some pranks.

“Oh, shit,” I suddenly exclaimed, slapping a hand to my forehead. “There’s a box of condoms in the drawer in your nightstand. Eliza was hoping that your dad would find them and tear you a new one.”

Peggy had noticeably whitened, but only said, “noted.” I took her silence as a cue to continue, and so I did. She stopped me at the part about the campgrounds.

“Eliza burned the letters? And you let her?!” She exclaimed, colour coming back into her cheeks.

“Peggy, you didn’t see her at the campgrounds. She was devastated, and nothing was going to stop her.” Peggy blew out a breath through her nose, and nodded at me to continue. I finished by telling her about Goodbye, Maria. and Peggy looked at me strangely.

“That’s it?” She asked, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“That’s all I know.”

“She had to leave clues,” Peggy said, pulling at her hair with both her hands. “And I think she left them for you.”

“Why for me?” And even as I asked it, I knew the answer: Eliza had no one else. Her boyfriend and sisters had wronged her, and they were the only people that she truly seemed to love. And so, she somersaulted into my window and brought me along because I was all she could have had left.

“She didn’t trust Angelica and I, and she obviously didn’t trust Alexander. So who better than you?” Peggy answered, letting her hands drop from her hair as she shrugged.

“What do we do now?”

“Now?” Peggy repeated, and a smirk lurked in the corners of her mouth and eyes. “Now we look.”