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agentdagonet · 4 years

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Still taking prompts?? How about Harry being married in name to someone, and finally gets a divorce from them. Cue him being able to ask Eggsy

(I hope you don’t mind this doesn’t have the actual proposal to Eggsy but I got lost in the anticipation of the thing and couldn’t get the proposal to flow off of it proper)

Harry’d given up on ever getting the divorce papers back. He’d sent them nearly five years ago and hadn’t received a text message, let alone the papers, in return. It was lucky that if they went unfiled the papers would never expire- if she hadn’t simply tossed them out they were still usable. They hadn’t even seen one another in nearly twenty years, the marriage itself one of convenience.

Her misogynistic git of a father had put her being married as a qualification to get her inheritance and he’d known he was never going to marry a woman for love- and marriage between men was illegal and would likely remain so for his lifetime, it seemed. So why not, she got what she needed and he lost nothing in return.

But the impossible had happened: he was legally allowed to marry a man and had fallen in love. And that made that paper marriage very inconvenient indeed. It was not, he reasoned, as if he needed to have a piece of paper to know that he and Eggsy were it for each other. They said it in a thousand ways each day, in a million thoughtless touches and warm gazes. In presses of lips and hands and besotted words that caused their coworkers to mime gagging in their presence and avoid being stuck in close quarters with them.

But he wanted. He wanted in a way he’d wanted little else. The way he’d wanted Kingsman and possibility. He’d bought a set of rings for the sheer symbolism of it, brought them to Merlin nearly a year ago and asked that they be seamed and altered- it wouldn’t do for them to need to be broken off a swollen finger, and he could be forgiven for wanting to feel Eggsy’s pulse against his own. An echo of connection, like a thread tethered between them both, perhaps one of those red strings that the legends liked to speak of.

He’d had Eggsy’s inscribed, even, like the besotted fool he was: Full of Surprises, which was entirely worth Merlin’s raised eyebrow when he’d seen it. He’d left his own blank, in the hopes that Eggsy would want to fill it himself. Wishful thinking, a set of rings that would likely never see the light of day. He was not the sort of man to want the symbol without the rest of it.

He didn’t want something sitting on his finger that he had to qualify, had to explain; if he was going to give a ring to Eggsy he was going to get everything that it entailed. The show, song, and dance and anything his heart desired for it. The things he would never say aloud but likely dreamt of as impossibilities. He deserved nothing less.

So the envelope in the post, weighted and addressed appropriately, was entirely unexpected. Eggsy was due back from Romania in a matter of hours, bruised but unbroken, and they’d planned to have takeaway in front of the telly but now-

There was an envelope on the table, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to open it. To wonder as to its contents, to put an end to the mystery and either settle for what he had (which was not settling at all) or jump into an unexpected fresh start. He was glad that he’d put his glasses up in the bedroom, as his hands shook and he wiped them anxiously against his trousers.

‘Just open the damn thing, Harry. What kind of spy are you that a stack of paper has you this rattled?’ Harry muttered to himself, taking a steadying breath before picking up the envelope and tearing into it. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, as he hissed and stuck a finger in his mouth- paper cuts were awful, awful, things. But he shook it dry after a moment and pulled the papers loose, and was greeted by a brightly coloured note at the top.

Sorry for the wait- there was another clause in the will, the bastard. If I’d filed these any sooner, it would have been for nothing in the first place. Ta for the time, don’t feel obligated to stay in touch. xx

Harry flipped through signed the pages eagerly, seeing hers alongside his own and at the end another paper that bore the judge’s signature. It was done.

Harry ran up the stairs to the office, threw the pile into a file, and grabbed the ring box from the false-bottom drawer of his desk before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

He had someone to meet on the tarmac.

Let me put this out there: I’ll be taking prompts for the foreseeable future! Not sure how quickly they’ll get posted but I’m finding this a LOT of fun so KEEP THE PROMPTS COMING!

#dagonet writes #hartwin #divorce and proposal #kind of #kingsman fanfic #long post #Anonymous

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anagentinwriting · 5 years

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To Catch a Thief - Part 4

Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2429

Warnings: Swearing

To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist

“The same hologram system used in Vegas was used here, too,” Gamora informed. “The Norway police told us the case the Space Stone necklace was in was supposed to be the most secure in the world, but it's not anymore. The case has bulletproof glass and sensors running every which way. There is also a metal box below it where the necklace is stored at night, so no one ever needs to touch it. SL must be good at picking locks or has a tool that can break into anything. One thing's for sure, SL must have friends in high places to get him equipment in a foreign country.”

“No kidding.”

“And the museum still has no idea when this happened,” Kraglin added. “They only realized it was missing when the hologram shut off and underneath it was a paper with lyrics on it. We figure the theft happened three days before since it took that long for the hologram from Vegas to trigger off.”

“What were the lyrics this time?” You asked as Kraglin handed you a picture of the paper with the lyrics on it.

It’s magic you know

Never believe, it’s not so

It's magic, you know

Sorry, SL

“Do you recognize these lyrics at all, music expert?” Gamora asked with a hopeful smirk.

“No, it's a little vague, but I’ll do some digging. Do you have any idea how he did this?”

“Magic, according to him,” Kraglin insinuated, making you and Gamora shake your heads. “It’s crazy how Harry Houdini died from getting punched in the stomach, but I guess, later it was found out he had acute appendicitis. He may have been one of the best escapologists, but no one can escape death.” You narrowed your eyes at him. How did he know the randomest things and share these things at the most inconvenient times?

“Interesting Kraglin, really, but there’s no such thing as magic,” Gamora declared. “We need to try and figure out a plausible way for how he managed to do this."

“Abracadabra,” Kraglin chimed in, twiddling his fingers in the air.

Kraglin and Gamora got to work looking over the evidence the Norway police sent over by email. Kraglin would be flying out later this afternoon to collect anything physical he could find and bring it back to further examine it.

You sat in your chair listening to the song Magic by Pilot after doing a Google search on the lyrics. From your understanding, it’s a happy cheerful song. It’s about loving life and not taking every day for granted. It’s short and to the point. SL could've forgiven himself for doing the things he did in his past, and instead of dwelling on them any further he's moving on. He was finally looking to better days ahead of him, and you were happy for him. Both his last songs were uplifting and this one seems like he’s happier.

“Find anything, YN?”

“I did and last night Luis gave me some insights as well…” You filled them in on what you found out from Luis and what you were thinking with the new song lyrics.

Gamora wanted you to search the database for anything related to Space-Legend or Star-Leader while she got Kraglin ready for his trip. But like always you found nothing on the names. Then, you remembered SL exposed a few companies a couple years ago. You ran a search, but without the company names, it would be hard to narrow down the long endless list related to the mistreatment of animals.

SL had to of committed previous crimes before this, but with no leads you needed to move on to something else. With Gamora watching the Vegas footage, you started on the two months worth of camera footage the Norway museum sent over.

“Peter, why is this even a discussion Faithfully by Journey beats their song Separate Ways. It’s no competition.” After getting locked out of your apartment a couple weeks ago, you and Peter struck up this weird friendship. He has his issues, but he’s a nice guy even though you have petty arguments over music and movies.

“What? Are you crazy? Separate ways is so much deeper than you are making it out to be,” Peter argued, making his voice rise a bit higher.

“How? Faithfully is how love should be. It proves that even though the distance and the problems are putting a strain on their relationship, he will always fight to make it work because he loves her.”

“I agree, 100 percent. But, hear me out, Separate Ways is more realistic. I mean, a guy falls in love with a girl that thinks she’s unworthy of love, whether it's from a bad past relationship or whatever, but the dude understands this. He tells her someday she’ll be able to love, and he hopes that one night they touched will get her to come back to him. But, even though he tried his best to show his love is real, he knows she will never feel worthy of it. All he wants is for her to be happy, even if it's not with him.”

“I'm done having this discussion, but if you ask me it sounds like you have experienced this first hand.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m right and your wrong. So, how is your case coming?” Peter ignored your comment by covering it up with a quick question. He walked to the fridge to grab another beer, but before he closed it he peeked over at you silently asking if you wanted one. You nodded as he pulled out another one for you.

“I'm afraid that's classified.”

“Still? Wow! It’s almost like the FBI is keeping this under wraps and away from the public, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes grabbing the beer from his hand. Why did he always insist on asking you about your case? Was he curious or did he want to help? To keep things safe you decided to stick with a one-word answer.

“Sure! Back to my previous topic, who broke your heart? Was it a high school sweetheart? A friend with benefits ordeal gone array?”

“What makes you think someone broke my heart? My heart is rock solid like my body.” He plopped down in his usual spot on the couch, staring at the coffee table.

“Rocks are breakable with enough force.” You took the seat next to him, setting your beer on the coffee table.

“Smartass,” he sighed, taking a swig of his beer. “If you must know, there was this one girl, Beeret, we were dating all through high school. She was a super cool and amazing painter. We both claimed to be in love, but before she left for college, she broke up with me. She didn't want to try the long distance relationship thing since it never works. She wanted me to forget about her and move on. She told me she’d always love me but she didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“What? Who wouldn’t want to be with you? Any woman would be lucky to have you,” you blurted out, feeling your face begin to heat up as your palms started to tingle. Your eyes moved to your beer bottle on the table, before returning to Peter.

“You'd be surprised,” he said, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Hmm, that's why you don't like Journey's Faithfully." He shrugged with one shoulder. "At least this explains why you have lady friends and not girlfriends.” You watched his eyes move from yours to your lips before he leaned back licking his lips.

“Hammered that nail right on the head didn’t you.”

“I’m an FBI agent, it’s my job to notice things.” You shrugged, patting him on the thigh before leaning back into the couch.

A month in and you’re still analyzing security tapes. Two months worth of tape was exhausting to look over. Staring at this screen all hours of the day was starting to strain your eyes, but all you could do was rub them and keep going. You never heard of these necklaces until you started this case, but every time you switched on the footage you noticed they attracted a lot of attention.

You were watching the recording three weeks before the thief happened. In the corner of the camera, a guy with a notepad walked by looking around each exhibit like he was taking notes. Is he doing recon to see where the cameras and sensors are at? You couldn't see his face, but notice the red jacket he was wearing. You speed up the camera keeping a close eye on him, but he doesn’t stay before he wanders off in the other direction. You make a note of the date and time of his appearance and what he was wearing. You skip over to the next day but saw nothing.

A week later, Red Jacket showed up on camera again. This time he was standing close to the blue stone necklace almost like he was examining the cases lock mechanism. Then, you don’t see him again until three days before the hologram turned off. You go to the front entrance camera of the museum and watch him walk in. He never gets anywhere near the necklace nor does he leave the museum out the front door. You might finally have something.

“Gamora, I got something.”

“Seriously? What is it?”

“A possible suspect, Red Jacket,” you said, pointing at the screen.

It was Thursday night, and once again it involved hanging out at Peters apartment. You always hung out on Thursdays because he worked at the bar, Trash Panda, on Friday nights and weekends.

His apartment was always a disaster with takeout containers, and clothes laying on the floor. Cd's, DVD's, cassettes, and records laid everywhere else. Peter also had some weird decor, or as he called them his useful relics. There was a broken sword, which he called Dragonfang, a knock-off Jackson Pollock painting, and a basketball size Pac-man head. It might’ve been dirty but it felt more like a home than your apartment ever did.

“Why do you always insist on watching the old Footloose versus the new one?” You asked, taking a seat on the couch next to Peter.

“The old one has Kevin Bacon. And if you don’t like Bacon something is wrong with you.” You rolled your eyes and Peter’s phone starts ringing. “Pizzas here. I’ll go get it, can you put the movie in?”

“On it.” You put the disk in the player and grabbed the remote off the end table. A picture frame you never noticed before catches your eye. You pick it up taking your usual spot on the couch. The image was of a much younger Peter laying on the grass listening to his Walkman with a woman you could only suspect to be his mother.

“Got the pizza. You got the beer. Let's watch this flick.” Peter carried in the pizza kicking the door close but stops short seeing you staring at a picture in your hand. “Ahhhh….whatcha got there?”

“Is this your mom?”

“Oh ah, yeah.” He walked over setting the pizza down on the coffee table and taking a seat in his usual spot next to you.

“She’s beautiful. Is she....”

“Dead…...no. She’s very much alive,” he answered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Um, her name is Meredith. She’s an amazing mother, but she does have an inoperable brain tumor.” You set the picture back down beside you.

“I'm sorry, Peter.” You reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“It's okay. It's not the first time she fought this. She’ll beat this thing again, I just know it,” he said with a hopeful spark in his eyes.

His mom beat cancer before and it’s back. You couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for him to see his mother going through this the first time; let alone a second time. You would never want to relive any of your bad memories all over again.

“Still, it must be hard to watch her go through all this again," you sympathized, squeezing his hand again before letting go. “I’d hate to see you go through this alone, so I’m here if you need anything, okay?” He nodded with a sly smirk on his face. “I’m serious! If you want a home-cooked meal or need help getting your mind off this or --”

“I get it,” he interrupted you by patting you on the leg. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Really.”

“Is your dad still around at all? It must be tough on him, too?"

“No, he’s not. He’s dead, but he was never really in the picture when I was growing up. I mean he was, but he wasn’t. He taught me a lot but it was always me and my mom.” Peter grabbed a beer and rotated the bottle in his hand smearing the condensation across the label.

“I’m sorry, that’s tough to deal with growing up.” He nodded his head before twisting off the top and taking a sip. “Do you at least get to see your mom often?”

“As often as I’m allowed,” he murmured, wide-eyed at the floor before flickering them back to you with his eyebrows raised. “Anyways, ready to watch this flick?” You nodded, dropping the subject. He didn’t want to continue talking about this and you understood, but you couldn’t stop thinking about his choice of words.

“How’s work? Find any new clues on your case or whatever?”

“Yeah, I may have found a break in the case actually. Gamora seemed pretty happy about it so did Kraglin and he’s tough to impress.”

“Nice work.” The opening credits start coming across the screen and Peter starts tapping his leg and humming some tunes before he starts singing. “Leaning on my pillow in the morning / Lazy day in bed music in my head / Crazy music playing in the morning light / Oh-ho-ho It’s magic you know / Never believe it's not so.”

“Stop singing and watch the damn movie.” You nudged him in the ribs, forcing him to stop and snicker. “Why are you singing that song anyways?”

“Oh, the pizza guy was singing it. It’s a classic, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, something like that,” you replied, grabbing a slice. It was the same song from the recent heist. It might have nothing to do with the case, but it didn't hurt to look into this pizza place or their employees, even if it led to a dead end.

#peter quill x reader #peter quill #peter quill reader insert #peter quill au #peter quill image #avengers #star-lord x reader #star-lord au #star-lord #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel image #avengers image #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #to catch a thief

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