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sheadre · 1 month

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the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.”

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat.

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms.

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum.

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude.

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow.

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival.

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake.

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge.

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her.

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother.

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired.

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were.

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.”

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop.

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage.

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside.

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour.

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures.

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows.

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?”

“Of course, your highness.”

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours.

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh.

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely.

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle.

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue.

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you.

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.”

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.”

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers.

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends.

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame.

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once.

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.”

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen.

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you.

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below.

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter.

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow.

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?”

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone.

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.”

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress.

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric.

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor.

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed.

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer.

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.”

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left.

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

341 notes · View notes

sheadre · 2 months

Text

Neighbors Chapter List

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst (more possible warnings/tags to come)

Summary: Between running Common Grounds, chasing after your escape artist husky, and helping your financially struggling brother out by watching your niece, your days are always busy. But shortly after a new neighbor moves into the other side of your duplex, you start receiving mysterious threats. Surprisingly, you eventually find safety and comfort in the reclusive neighbor whom your niece and dog have both come to befriend.

Chapter List

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 {Coming Soon}

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sheadre · 2 months

Text

You Would do That for Me? - Pt. 3

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: You help Peter out, like you promised, with Flash in first period. Hopefully you don’t take it to far.

Warnings: Mentions of physical assault, Bullying, swearing, suggestive (just a bit), angst

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Hey!! I hope you guys like this next part. It may just be me but I feel like it’s on the sadder side, and writing made me really sad too. Sorry for the lame use of emoji and just lame ways of texting. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list!

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

“So, you too are serious?” MJ asks, her question startles you but you try to brush it off with a shrug. A smirk grows on her face and you feel your face get hot. Your hand, that’s connected with Peters, gets sweaty.

“I knew it. I knew something was going on-“

“What are you talking about?” You question quickly, sweating profusely now. What is she even saying? Yes, maybe you had a small thing for him when he liked Liz, but it lasted only for a moment. It ended the second it started. “What is she talking about?” You think nervously.

“Ohh,” Ned butts in, “So, this is why you-“ Peter yanks his hand from yours quickly, covering Ned's mouth. You can’t ask about it because the next second they are both gone.

MJ laughs at your flustered face, turning to her locker.

“You know Y/n, I really believed you when you said you were over him.”

“I was. I- I am.” You think, wanting to respond with that, but you have to keep the bid up. For your safety and for Peter's dignity.

“Yeah, well- I-“ You sigh, “I don’t know, things just happen I guess.” Your shoulders slump in defeat. You can’t defend yourself. Ugh, this is going to be the worst to deal with.

“Yeah, yeah, well I forgive you for not telling me,” MJ remarks, “So, now, tell me everything.”

“What- What do you mean?” You utter out.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n.” MJ rolls her eyes. You just knew she was going to bring this up. You keep your head low as you open your locker. MJ snickers as you pull the books out of your bag.

“I don’t like him like that anymore.” You whine in your head. You wish you could just tell MJ, but you promised Peter and he promised you.

You thought about it last night, if you bring Peter to the bodega with you then Derek, Logan, and Otis will leave you alone, too afraid they’d get caught. And even if you do see them in school, you’ll just make sure Peter is always there. In the past they never looked at you longer than a couple seconds when you were with someone else.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now MJ.” You sigh, letting your head hit the books in your locker. MJ laughs rubbing your back.

“Okay, later then.” You roll your eyes as she closes your locker.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You babble out, letting MJ push you to your first period.

At least you can help Peter today with Flash and his stupid comments. Thinking about his idiocy makes your head hurt.

——

As you walk into your first period you sigh, finally getting MJ to stop talking your ear off about not telling her. You plop down in your seat letting your bag fall to the floor.

Ned and Peter are already in their seats like usual, and you can practically feel Neds smirk as he nudges Peter. You turn to see Peter shove Ned. When Peter's eyes meet yours he turns his attention onto his hands, suddenly finding something really interesting about them.

The sound of two hands slamming onto your desk has you jumping in your seat. You look up to find the nauseous sight of Flash smirking.

”What the hell do you want this time?” You ask leaning back in your chair, so you don’t look intimidated. You could not possibly be intimidated by Flash, but if he thinks even for a second that you are, you won’t hear the end of it.

”Here to make your daily comment about Peter?” MJ asks and you can see MJs eyes roll in annoyance.

“Sit down Flash.” Ned says before being cut off by Flash.

”I was just going to ask him a question,”

”Go for it.” You can’t see Peter but you hear him say this with a sigh.

“Do you think the reason you can’t get anyone in your pants is because your dick is so incredibly small that every woman mistakes you for a little girl?” You actually scoff at Flash's words. It’s like your in fucking middle school again. Whenever Flash opens his mouth you want to die because of how stupid he sounds. You honestly feel bad that no one told him.

You turn slightly so you can see Peter's face out of the corner of your eye, he looks defeated, just like yesterday. You fucking hate it.

”What the fuck is wrong with Flash?” You think before turning back to face Flash fully. You perch your arms on the desk and look up at him.

“You know you're not as funny as your mommy tells you Flash,” You comment tilting your head to the side with a tight smile.

MJ smirks with a laugh. She opens her mouth to say something but you cut her off, pissed at Flash.

”And also, why are you so interested in the size of Peter's dick?” You ask scrunching your brows innocently. Flash looks uncomfortable with your comment as he looks around annoyed.

“And at least his dick isn’t inverted like yours.” You snark at him.

”And how would you know?” He quickly comments back. This has you stunned for a second.

”What the hell do I say to that?” You think in a panic. You know what you want to say, but you don’t know if it will make it worse or better.

”I'm his girlfriend dipshit.” You finally say, faking your confidence. In reality your stomach is spinning in circles. You don’t want to make Peter uncomfortable, but this was the whole point of faking this relationship. So you might as well.

Flash’s eyes go wide and his brows scrunch in confusion, like you had just told him his girlfriend's pregnancy test came back positive.

“W-what?” Flash stutters out.

”Yeah, no go sit your single ass down.” MJ says, and in her tone you can hear that she's proud of your boldness.

“How- How did he-? You? I mean he’s nothing and your Y/n Stark, I don’t-” You just chuckle at his inability to speak.

”Well the non inverted dick helped.” You say before you can stop yourself. Oh shit, you might have gone too far. You only became his ‘girlfriends’ last night. You shouldn’t have said any of that-

Your panic gets interupted by a laugh. A soft one, but it cuts through all the bickering like a knife. You pivot to face the sound.

“Peter?!” You wonder, confused as shit. “Why is he laughing? Did I not go too far?” You question yourself with scrunched brows and an anxious stomach. “Peter never laughs when Flash is around.” It's odd. No one has seen Peter this with flash around , including Flash, so everyone is extremely confused.

His laugh isn’t big or powerful, it is small and gentle. It's like any of the other times you make him chuckle with your comments. The laugh warms your heart. Your happy Peter doesn’t have that defeated expression on anymore.

MJ looks at you and Ned, not sure what to do. You shrug watching Peter bow his head down trying to contain his small smile. You decide to take action. Not wanting to stay in the awkward, unusual, situation any longer.

“Go away Flash.” You state bluntly, looking up at Flash unamused.

“Why should I-“

”Good morning Class!” Your teacher's voice rings out successfully shutting Flash up. You smile cheekily up at Flash and he rolls his eyes walking back to his seat.

“I can't with him,” You sigh looking at MJ. She smiles.

”You handled that well.” MJ comments. “But now, I'm pretty sure by the end of the day everyone will know about you and Peter.” She notes in a warning tone.

”That's fine. Not something I'm ashamed of or anything.” You explain trying to sound chill and unbothered by the idea. But really you're kind of happy.

“This is what Peter and I wanted” You reflect trying to calm down the butterflies that you refuse to admit are there.

“But, Oh my god. Holy shit, what the fuck have I done!?” You scream internally.

“No, no, no Y/n, this is what you wanted, what you need.” You reason with yourself. Eventually you turn your attention to the teacher pushing back your thoughts so you can focus. You didn’t hear a single thing the teacher said in that class.

——

All day you have been getting looks while walking down the hall with Peter. There is no way that the new information on your relationship status spread this fast. The eyes don’t bother you much, being the daughter of someone famous will do that to you. You always have unwanted attention on you, but you have learned to live with it. Peter looks uncomfortable though, he doesn’t say anything.

”Peter?” You ask and his head immediately snaps to look at you. “I just wanted to apologize about what I said in our first period.” You admit shyly slowing your steps down the long hallway.

“What? That, you think Luke Skywalker is lame? Because, really Y/n it doesn’t bother me as much as I led on.” Peter remarks. And you smile at him puffing out a laugh.

”No, I mean with Flash.” You utter quietly. “I realize we should have talked about it before I told him, because now everyone knows.” Peter hums in thought, going over what you said in his head.

“And also all the other stuff I said when he was there.” You add on quickly. Peter stays quiet a moment longer, trying to think of what to say, you think at least.

”It’s fine Y/n. Honestly it was really cool of you to do that for me.” Peter finally responds.

”Really?” You question.

”Yeah, and I mean, this is what we wanted right? Everyone to know.” You nod along with him.

”On that thought, I can’t remember, umm, how do I say this?” Peter wonders aloud and you give him your full attention, waiting for him to finish his thought.

”You know how you are helping me with Flash?” Peter whispers so no one in the hallway will hear him. You just nod once again.

”Well, I feel like a real ass for not remembering, but what exactly am I trying to help-“

The bell rings and cuts him off abruptly. You pull your phone out quickly checking the time. And give him a sad smile.

”Can we talk later? I have a history test to get to.” You say, guilt lacing your voice. You feel bad, you do, but you kind of need to get to this test.

”Oh, umm yeah, of course.” Peter mumbles out sadly, and the look on his face makes your heart pang with sadness. “See you later.” He says as you begin to walk away with a wave.

You have a feeling you know what he wanted to know. But you aren’t sure. And even if you were, you need to plan a course of action. Do you lie, do you tell the truth? Do you twist the truth? You need to think. Even if there is a possibility that, that was not at all what he was asking. You can never be over prepared. And, there is no doubt in your mind that, if not now, he’ll ask later.

——

When Peter tried to talk to you again about the question form earlier you dashed away with an apology that Happy had arrived to pick you up early.

You didn’t ignore him completely, you did talk to him, just not about…that. And it’s not that you don’t want to tell him, I mean you already did, he just doesn’t remember. You want to find a way to say it that won’t make you sound weak, or incapable. Maybe you should say it the same way you did the first time.

“I can’t remember exactly what I said but it was something along the lines of “You would help keep the creepy guys away.” You muse.

“Yeah, that works.” You confirm inturnaly. Then you concluded if he asked follow up questions you could talk about the unwanted attention because of your Dad. And although you hated using your dad it was better than the whole truth.

Unlike what you told Peter, Happy was not early, in fact he is late. You don’t mind though, because Peter has already left on the subway to go home, so there is no chance he can catch you in your white lie. You are sitting on the steps of the school waiting for Happys black car to pull up when your phone rings. You pull it from your pocket and check it to see activity on the group chat you made with Peter, Ned and MJ on it. You open your text messages.

Ned 👀🤠

What time are we supposed to be at Y/n’s house on Friday?

Peter👨🏻‍🔬💀

I think it was 4pm

MJ👸🏽

Yeah anytime between 4 and 5

Ned👀🤠

What movie did we agree on?

MJ👸🏽

We didn’t

Peter👨🏻‍🔬💀

Don’t remind me bro

Y/n🧍‍♀️

Oh my god please😭

MJ👸🏽

Let’s just watch a horror movie

Y/n🧍‍♀️

Yeah!

Ned👀🤠

NOO

Peter👨🏻‍🔬💀

I’m not coming if we do

MJ👸🏽

Stop being so boring

If you get scared you can cuddle up next to Y/n

She will protect you from the scary monster on tv

Your face heats at the comment. If you needed to, you would let Peter cuddle with you. But purely for the sake of keeping the bid up. Only for the bid. Right?

Ned👀🤠

💀

Peter👨🏻‍🔬💀

Bruh

I can protect myself

MJ👸🏽

Perfect you’ll be fine then

Ned👀🤠

What about me??

Y/n🧍‍♀️

If you comply I’ll let you peak into my dads lab

Ned👀🤠

Deal.

MJ👸🏽

Nice going Y/n

Y/n🧍‍♀️

Thanks babes🤭🤭

Ned👀🤠

Peters gotta be jealous👀

Peter👨🏻‍🔬💀

Dude I’m not two

Y/n🧍‍♀️

And I doubt you really want to see me calling him that Ned

MJ👸🏽

Yeah I’ll pass

Love you guys but no

You laugh as you slip your phone back into your pocket. You're glad that you agreed on a genre of movie. It will be easier to narrow down later. You're also glad that neither MJ or Ned were suspicious of you and Peter. So far you haven't given them a reason to. You just hope it stays that way.

Your stomach grumbles drawing your attention from your friends. You want food, but you don’t dare go to the bodega two days in a row. You don't have the energy to deal with Derek, Otis, and Logan. When do you ever?

Just thinking about them makes your throat close up. It makes your breathing get shallow. Your head races and your stomach drops. You want to cry because of how weak they make you feel, how pathetic.

Thinking about them puts your mood down. You just want to forget all about them. About the amount of times you let it fucking happen. You feel your eyes water and your hands tighten on the edge of your shirt. You haven’t even realized you were gripping it.

You feel a tear slip down your check and quickly wipe it away. You push down your feelings. Not wanting to be caught crying on the steps of your school by Happy. Because then he’d tell your dad and then it would be a whole thing. You didn’t want that. You don’t want more eyes on you.

You hear a beep that brings your focus away from your thoughts. You look up to see Happy in the front seat of a black car. You stand and scurry over. You open the door, tossing your bag inside.

“Hey Happy.” You say while buckling your seatbelt.

“Hi,” He responds as he pulls away from the curb. Your hands settle in your lap and your eyes out the window.

“Sorry I was late, there was traffic.” Happy apologizes, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s all good.” You respond as you watch buildings, people and other cars go by.

“You didn’t go to the bodega.” Happy notes glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.” You mumble not giving him anything else.

“You okay kid?” Happy asks gently, trying not to pry too much.

“Yeah, sorry, just tired.” You explain with a sigh. Your stomach rumbles loudly and you hear Happy chuckle.

“And hungry?” He questions. And you smile in embarrassment.

“Very.” You admit.

——

After a snack and more thinking, you need to get your mind off Peter. So you decide to shower. That always helps clear your head. Showering, you think, is the best invention of the modern day. Although, many, your dad specifically would not agree in the slightest.

When you step out of the shower and into your room, the air pricks your body. Goosebumps litter your exposed skin. Just before your shower you left a pile of clean clothes on your bed. Warm, comfy pajamas.

You walk over to the bed, quickly changing. You stalk back over to your bathroom to hang your towel up. You can’t be more grateful for your private bathroom, you could spend hours in there just blasting music, and no one would get mad.

As you walk by, your eye catches sight of yourself in the large mirror hanging on the wall. Even with your clothes on, you can see the marks Logan, Otis, and Derek left scattered on your skin. You finally acknowledge it, because it’s not like you didn’t see them in the shower. It’s more like you chose to ignore it.

They had left many bruises on you before, this was nothing new. Their markings ranged from small cuts and scrapes to bruising and aching all over your body.

You just have to be cautious of the hand shaped bruises on your arms, and the fact that they hurt when you graze your fingers over them. You finally draw your attention away from the mirror to finish pulling your socks on.

You are walking to your closet looking for a sweatshirt when you hear a knock on your bedroom door.

”Shit” You quickly run the rest of the way to the closest to scour through your hung up clothes. You search for a sweatshirt or hoodie.

”Y/n?” You hear your fathers voice boom through the door. He sounds slightly irritated.

”One second dad!” You call back to him. And you continue looking. Only now do you curse the amount of clothes you have, because you can’t locate a damn sweatshirt.

He knocks again, louder this time.

“Y/n, come on! I need to talk to you.” He speaks through the door.

”Double shit.” You think, “What does he know? Wait, don't admit to anything before you're accused of it, and until there's solid evidence that has you trapped” You note in your head. You dad had told you that too many times, especially when Pepper would scold him for something he did.

”Dad, please, I'm changing!” You just about shout at him. You can hear him sigh loudly. “Fine!” He shouts back. “Just be quick.”

You finally find a suitable sweatshirt and slide it on. You close your closet before rapidly moving to the door. You pull it open to see your Dad holding a pair of socks as far away from his face as possible.

”Thank god,” You sigh. Glad that it wasn’t him finding out somehow about your relationship.

“What's this?” You ask, pointing to his hand, and leaning against the frame of your door trying to slow your breathing, as if two seconds ago you weren’t just fearing for your life.

”You left these on the couch.” He grumbles out annoyed.

”Actually, no, those aren’t mine, I stopped doing that after you yelled at me and just about ban me from wearing socks all together.” You rebuttal and he huffs out in thought.

”Are you sure?” He asks.

”Yes dad, I'm sure. Why don’t you ask Bruce? Those look like they could be his,” You reason examining the lab beakers decorating the socks. You Dad just grumbles out a profanity before turning to leave.

”Wait!” You call him and he turns. You need to confirm your plans on Friday with MJ, Peter and Ned.

”Yeah hon?”

”MJ, Ned and Peter can still come over Friday, right?” You ask hopefully.

“Yep, no plans on my part have changed, so unless they can’t make it your all good.” He smiles before turning once again to the elevator.

”Dad!” You call out again, and he turns once again with a sigh.

”Yes?”

“Do you think we could, I don’t know, do something together?” You offer.

”Like right now?” He questions, and you nod. He smiles sadly. “Sorry kid, I’ve got to finish up some work.”

”Oh, okay,” You voice, sadly. You just want to spend time with him, but he's been so busy. You feel bad for asking, not wanting him to feel guilty. But at the same time you kind of want him to know you’re hurt.

”This weekend?” He tries, just wanting to see you smile. And you do, even if it’s soft.

”Yeah, that would be great.” You confirm nodding.

“Okay,” He speaks softly and smiles gently, then walks to the elevator.

Tag list:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@sunnyx07

@hollandweather

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

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sheadre · 3 months

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.4k

A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!

Chapter Eighteen

The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment.

You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.

The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -

Your heart stopped.

Frank.

He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months.

Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.

But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.

“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him.

You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over.

“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.

“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t understand -”

“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”

“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”

“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”

You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”

Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.

“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.

“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”

You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.

And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.

He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.

“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.

“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.

“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.

“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.

When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.

The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.

You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.

The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)

Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.

“Just give me the file,” he finally said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.

“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.

“No one, I’m not -”

“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”

“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”

“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.

“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.

“Bullshit!”

“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”

“I did trust you!”

His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.

“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.

Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.

Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.

“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”

“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.

“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”

“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”

“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.

Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.

You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.

“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”

It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over.

And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.

“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances.

Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.

“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.

Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.

You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.

Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.

“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.

“Let me out.”

“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”

“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”

“I didn’t know, I -”

“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”

“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?

“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”

“I’m sorry, I never -”

“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.”

“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”

“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”

“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”

“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.

You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.

But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”

“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me, please, I -”

The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.

“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.

“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone.

Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.

“Please, I -” he tried.

“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.

When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.

Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.

He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.

“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”

You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”

He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.

“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”

“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”

“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”

That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.

“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”

The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.

A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.

“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”

You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.

“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”

“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.

“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”

Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.

“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”

“Yes...”

The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you.

There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.

“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”

“Thank you.

He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”

He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange.

END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.

As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes @scarlettrikstr

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sheadre · 3 months

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Back and Forth - masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader

Type: enemies-ish to lovers series

Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.

However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.

And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others

Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline

Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility

STORYLINE:

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3.1 // Part 3.2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Epilogue

Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh

Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.

Taglist open 🥰

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sheadre · 4 months

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A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

TBC...

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sheadre · 4 months

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Keep reading

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sheadre · 4 months

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More Than This Masterlist

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, the slooowest burn - See each chapter for individual warnings. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

One

Two

Series in progress

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sheadre · 8 months

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Phantom of the Opera (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader) Chapter Six

Summary: Lady (Name) Granville, daughter and only heir of Duke Granville just arrived back for this season from her tour in Europe. However, she came back to London with a secret. And it seems Anthony Bridgerton just found out that secret.

Word count: 1116

Warnings: fluff, romance, angst

It took you by surprise when Lord Vincent de Trafford appeared at your door. He was one of the eligible bachelors interested in finding a wife this season. You danced with him once and he was likeable. But he was no Anthony Bridgerton. You hated yourself for still thinking about him just like now, when you were standing in front of Lord Trafford. As you looked up at him, you had to strain your neck but his bright smile made you forget about it.

“Lady Granville, I asked Lady Danbury if I could join the two of you to promenade in Hyde Park today with my mother and younger sister.”

His deep voice was caressing your ears as he spoke. His smile was so bewitching, everyone was smitten with him but lately during all the balls since he and his family arrived, his attention seemed to be solely on you. His presence drew everyone’s attention especially because of his mysterious background no one really knew about.

Your heart flattered in your chest as you tried to find the words of agreement.

“And I agreed to it.” your aunt walked out from the drawing room. “Are you ready, my dear? Ophelia and Margaret are waiting for us outside.”

With a simple nod, you intertwined your arm with your aunt and let her lead you to the carriage outside. Lady Danbury seemed like she had a plan in her mind because the other day she was warning you about Lord Trafford and now she was ready to let him close to you. The ride to the park was filled with small talk and you tried to pay attention to it so you could respond respectfully to any questions asked. Getting out of your head was quite hard these days.

After Sienna asked you to give up your dreams, you thought over her reasons and left the theatre. Ever since then, you felt numb. The only thing you truly enjoyed in life was taken from you because of your simple existence. Having responsibilities you never asked for but was forced into, made you feel bitter. Your anger soon died out, however, leaving only numbness behind. It has always been like that. You got angry quickly but it just as quickly snuffed out and you accepted how things were. Reality hit you hard that way sometimes but that is life and one has to move on if they want to experience other things as well.

Once you arrived at Hyde Park, you felt relieved, the carriage was crowded with all five of you inside besides, you were still not used to Lord Trafford. He was a stranger after all. Your eyes widened at that. Wasn’t Anthony a stranger as well in that sense?

“Lady Granville, we haven’t had time to talk ever since the play-hunt.” Lord Trafford smiled gently down at you. “How are you fairing? Have you read anything interesting lately?”

“Actually I quite enjoyed the latest poems of Lord Kershaw. He is a unique talent.” you replied. “Do you enjoy poetry or do you prefer novels?”

“It depends on the author. It is not the genre but the style that piques my interest.” he said as he stared ahead, Lady Danbury and his family behind the pair of you. The weather was nice, there were only a few white puffy clouds in the blue sky. This environment felt peaceful like this. You didn’t need to be on guard by Lord Trafford’s side, you didn’t need to think about ulterior motives.

Then, as you listened to Lord Trafford’s musings about literature, your eyes landed on three familiar figures in the distance. Benedict Bridgerton was telling his brothers about his latest story when your eyes met with Anthony’s. His brown eyes were trained on you, his smile that lighted up his handsome face by the funny story only brightened when your eyes met his. Your heart skipped a beat and you quickly turned your head avoiding further eye contact.

He only made your life miserable so far, you shouldn’t be spending even just a second thinking about him. As you walked with Lord Trafford and his family, you slowly seemed to ease into a tranquil conversation. Your heart slowed down its pace and small smiles and chuckles left your lips when the lord made a few jokes.

Your group found a perfect spot for your picnic, sandwiches and small cakes were passed while conversation flowed. Then suddenly, a ball hit the back of your head making you spill tea on your dress as you sat on the blanket.

“Hyacinth!” a familiar voice cried out partially from anger. You looked back still in surprise to see little Hyacinth standing a distance away, staring at you in fear. Then came running up to her a frustrated looking Anthony Bridgerton with furrowed eyebrows. He crouched down to her level, said something to her and then held her hand and led her toward your group.

You stayed put, your heart beating so rapidly in your chest at the sight of Anthony you thought it would jump right out of your body. He greeted everyone with a dashing smile and then looked to Hyacinth and encouraged her to apologise.

“Hyacinth came here to apologise for being careless when playing, right Hyacinth?”

As you looked at him, your mind was filled with thoughts of how much Anthony looked like a father. Shaking your head a little to clear your head, you smiled at them and listened to Hyacinth’s apology. She looked ready to burst into tears, her lips pouted and her cheeks grew red.

“I-I… I’m really sorry!” she cried out and then hid behind Anthony’s legs. You smiled at her and reached out for her to grab your hands.

“It is quite alright, darling, no harm was done. Are you alright as well?”

Hyacinth seemed to calm down seeing your reaction and soon she was sitting in your lap. Then Lady Danbury spoke up:

“Lord Bridgerton, why are you not joining us?”

There was a pause in the air, then he cleared his throat and said: “I would not want to impose on-”

“Brother, you shouldn’t say no to a lady when she invited you herself.” Benedict Bridgerton clapped his hand on Anthony’s shoulder with a wide grin on his face. Lady Danbury laughed and motioned for you to move over to her side. Benedict pushed Anthony down next to you before his brother could protest. It was way too obvious that Lady Danbury and Benedict Bridgerton were in on something but you couldn’t help but focus on the close proximity you found yourself in with Anthony.

You knew you were doomed.

To be continued…

#romance #fluff #angst #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton

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sheadre · 1 year

Text

Teeth

The Masterlist

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Predator/Prey vibes, Serial killers, stalking, smut, minors DNI, Soulmate trope, protector vibes, anxiety, angst. Specific warnings come before each part.

Part 1: Something in the Woods

Part 2: Predator or Protector?

Part 3: A Safe Place to Rest Your Head

Part 4: Jealousy, Unexpected

Part 5: Guarded

Part 6: Double Helix

Part 7: Restraint

Part 8: It's just bad luck

Part 9: A step in the right direction

Part 10: I'm waiting for you

Part 11:

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sheadre · 1 year

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Crushing Plans Series Masterlist/Navigation

Crushing Plans

Part One

Part Two

Part Three: Coming 3/03/23 3:00PM PST

Part Four: Coming 3/10/23 3:00PM PST

Part Five: Coming 3/17/23 3:00PM PST

Bewitched Love

Contribution of above series/parts but going into NWH timeline.

WIP/TBD

PETER PARKER MASTERLIST/NAVIGATION

TOM HOLLAND MASTERLIST/NAVIGATION (INCLUDING CHARACTERS)

MY MAIN MASTERLIST/NAVIGATION (ALL MY WORKS)

Peter Parker Taglist: @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @theslayerofthevampires

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sheadre · 1 year

Note

hi, i am not sure if people have informed you about this before so i am sorry if it's repetitive but i was reading some jiang cheng fics and i can across one of yours. the fan art in one of them is from mc_macchi (i have linked their Twitter account). since you asked if you could credit them but they have explicitly mentioned that they do not want their art to be reposted/used. just informing😊

Ah, thank you, I will take it down!

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sheadre · 1 year

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Thrown Masterlist

After the timelines have broken free, Loki decides that all he wants is to join Thor in New Asgard. With a stolen tempad he travels to a timeline where the previous Loki died at the hands of Thanos. Now Loki helps his brother in rebuilding a home for the displaced people of Asgard while simultaneously learning to live a universe where it feels like this is the last place he should be. He wants nothing to do with the humans living nearby, but one in particular is not getting the message.

****

Takes place after the events of Season 1 of the Loki series, in a timeline where the Snap was prevented. Slow burn female reader insert fic.

Will be updating every Thursday if all goes according to plan. AO3 Link

Chapter 1: New Neighbors Chapter 2: A Ride and a Wager Chapter 3: Fighting Words Chapter 4: A New Perspective Chapter 5: A Lie and a Secret Chapter 6: What Others Make of Us Chapter 7: Sea legs Chapter 8: Summer Rain Chapter 9: A Long Day Chapter 10: An Excuse to Indulge Chapter 11: The Witching Hour Chapter 12: Any Port in a Storm Chapter 13: Work and Leisure Chapter 14: Stars and Stories Chapter 15: Earthen Chapter 16: Selecting Titles Chapter 17: Retaliation Chapter 18: Chill Chapter 19: The Tempering Flame Chapter 20: The Rabbit and the Tree Chapter 21: Moving Forward Chapter 22: Worthwhile Confrontation Chapter 23: Lodestar Chapter 24: Ensnared Chapter 25: A Fire Within Chapter 26: The Longest Nights Chapter 27: Resolve Chapter 28: The Light in the Dark Chapter 29: Storm and Shelter Chapter 30: Two Sides of a Coin Chapter 31: A Failing Strategy Chapter 32: The Tales We Tell 2/2/23

Blurbs Little vignettes that didn't fit in the main story. #1: Pop-Tarts #2: Image Manipulation

Taglist beneath the cut.

Thrown Tag List If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @pdraxxi, @goblingirlsarah, @chantsdemarins, @n3rdybirdee, @marvel-love24, @lokiprompts, @ladymischief11, @gigglingtigger, @lilmilkbun, @huntress-artemiss, @ellooo0ooo, @femme1fatale, @clairewinchester14, @glitterylokislut, @psychospore, @ladyloki3, @skinij3fx, @iamlokisgloriouspurpose, @lunarnights95, @callxmexnadine, @lilibet261, @valeave, @f2mhg2lt2rta, @fruit-caught-on-camera, @ladymischief11

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sheadre · 1 year

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Phantom of the Opera (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader) Chapter Five

Word count: 2002

Warnings: fluff, romance, angst

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Anthony’s PoV.

The weather in London turned cold during the last few days and that meant nights grew even colder. Anthony should’ve switched his coat to a warmer one but with his mind filled with thoughts about Lady Granville, he forgot to do so. The Viscount sneezed as quietly as possible while standing in the shadows of his family’s box in the theatre. His eyes couldn’t leave her form as she was singing on the stage, all lights on her.

Anthony never really thought he would be so drawn to the opera but somehow it seemed he was meant to long after one of the singers be it Siena or Lady Granville. He watched her end her scene with a heavy heart before the curtains closed and the audience applauded her. He could see the glint in her eyes even from so far away, under that mask, her eyes were shining with happiness which made his chest tighten. Before he knew her, Anthony only thought it was a hobby for her but seeing her perform night after night, he knew it was a passion.

The play came to an end but Anthony didn’t wait for the applause to die down. He stepped out of the box and was about to leave the theatre when his eyes met fiery brown ones.

“I thought I was clear when I sent you away.” Siena spoke. The applause was still thundering as a storm as the two of them seemed to be stuck in time, staring at each other. Anthony swallowed and averted his gaze.

“You were.” he said softly. “I am not here to bother you.”

“You’re here for her.”

His heart skipped a beat both in shock and pain at the way hurt mixed with dejection in her voice. Did she still have a lingering fondness for him? Or was it just the miss of something she was used to? He shook his head in hope these thoughts would leave him.

“Yes.”

It was surprising to hear his own voice sound so sure.

“She is risking a scandal, please stop it before it is too late.” Siena sighed and left him in the storm of the satisfied audience.

As Anthony made his way home, he kept thinking about what Siena said. Siena always held the theatre close to her heart and he knew she had a reason to be afraid of a scandal. If people stopped coming to watch opera, her everyday income would be at risk. But Lady Granville was just as enamoured with opera as Siena was. Her beautiful face lit up whenever she spotted the theatre and her performance was executed so well that it left others in the shadows.

For days, Anthony kept thinking about Lady Granville and when the invitation came from Lord Drummond for the upcoming wild game hunting he was organising for his fiftieth birthday, he finally had the best opportunity to have some time to talk to her.

Your PoV.

The weather seemed to be warmer compared to usual. It should’ve been colder but you could wear a short sleeved dress that day. You never particularly liked these wild game hunts but it was fun to laugh at the men trying to reassure each other about their masculinity. You looked over all the gentlemen, preparing for the hunt as you sat with Daphne and Eloise Bridgerton. The three of you were playing some card game when the Duke of Hastings approached you. He put a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder, his lips pulled into a small smile.

“Are you enjoying the afternoon?” he asked.

“Yes, dear.” Daphne touched his hand on her shoulder as she turned back to him. “However, I am not so sure that Anthony is enjoying it as well.”

“He keeps complaining about everything.” Simon rolled his eyes then they landed on your form. “I bet it is only because Lady Granville chose to dance with everyone else but him.”

“A lady has to be careful, my lord.” you smiled wryly. “Once a rake, always a rake.”

“As Anthony would put it, ‘reformed’ rake.” Simon chuckled then said his goodbyes and left with the rest of the men. You couldn’t help but search for Anthony in the crowd. It was easier though than you thought it would be. His eyes immediately locked with yours, his gaze burning through your skull.

“It seems Lady Granville you’re not as careful as you said a lady should be.” Daphne quipped. “Even though you do not trust my brother, I can reassure you that Anthony is not as bad as he seems.”

“Maybe-”

“Excuse me, Duchess Granville, Duchess Basset, Miss Bridgerton, it seems I have arrived late to join in on the hunting. May I join you with my mother and sister?”

The man who approached you from behind had a deep silky voice, it almost felt like your ears were caressed by soft velvet. You turned your attention to the man who cast a shadow over your sitting form. His light brown hair was cut short, a few strands poking out from under his hat. His shoulders were wide but you were certain that the cut of his coat was helping with it a little. What shocked you was how tall he was. His legs seemed to stretch for miles.

Behind him, a small, petite girl stood around the age of Francesca. Her almost white blonde hair was pulled up in a bun, her dress had a shocking amount of ruffles. She looked a little bit scared like she never attended a social gathering. Their mother who was holding her hand was a frail middle aged lady with darker blonde hair and a few wrinkles. Her blue eyes were almost grey and her lips pulled into a small, polite smile.

“May we ask your name, my lord?” Daphne spoke up. She seemed to shift to a wife and mother when she needed to show her authority.

“Ah, forgive me for my bluntness!” the man smiled before taking off his hat and bowing a little. “My name is Vincent de Trafford. After my father died I had to return to England from overseas, unfortunately, this occasion was the first I could attend.”

“It is nice meeting you and your family, my lord.” Daphne smiled politely but she seemed to be uneasy as she looked back at him. You watched her frozen movements and strained smile as she let him kiss her knuckles. “Ladies, let us make some room for our new guests.”

You and Eloise stood and moved your chairs a little so the three newcomers could join. Daphne was about to move over to your side so the three of you would face the three of them but Lord Trafford was quicker and already stepped to your side with a charming smile plastered on his handsome face.

“May I sit by your side, your grace?” he asked. Your eyes widened at the direct approach but it would’ve been rude to say no. You felt all the others’ gazes on your form so you pulled up a small smile on your face and nodded.

“Of course, my lord.”

At first the conversation was quite awkward but you soon found yourself in a deep conversation with the lord. Daphne tried to quip in here and there but the lord kept turning back the attention on you. You only noticed that the hunt was over when the Bridgerton brothers approached your table.

“Lady Granville it would be an honour if-”

“It is an honour to even talk to her grace, Lord…?” Anthony spoke up behind you, making you jump.

Lord Trafford looked up with a cold smile on his face before he stood to his feet and stretched out a hand to Anthony. The air seemed to freeze, everyone around you held their breath.

“Lord Bridgerton I assume.” Trafford said with a sickly sweet voice. “I have heard about you quite a lot already. Let me introduce myself, Vincent de Trafford, nice to finally meet you.”

“I cannot say the same, Lord Trafford. I haven’t heard about you at all.” Anthony glared back at the man. You watched silently as they clenched each other’s hand in a death grip while they were still shaking hands.

“Ah, there you are, my dear!” Lady Danbury spoke up suddenly with a strange cheerfulness. “Come with me for a second!”

With that, she grabbed you and pulled you out of that little circle. You walked on her side silently for a while until you two were out of earshot. Once you were all alone, she stopped and turned to you with a serious expression.

“(Name), I do not approve of Lord Trafford’s advances on you.” she said. “Believe me when I say that you should not trust him.”

“I didn’t mean to be so close with him. It just happened and-”

“Because he made it happen. That man is dangerous, stay away from him.” she shook her head before glancing back at the guests.

“Why do you think that, Lady Danbury?” you frowned. Was this man really dangerous? Couldn’t it be that he just wanted to fit in? Lord Trafford was handsome and was easy to talk to. He seemed to be genuinely interested in you. Maybe he was just a little misunderstood.

“I am way too old to not know when someone is not who they seem to be.” Lady Danbury replied then sighed. “Let’s get back to the party, they will be suspicious if we stay away for too long.”

“Haha, you still hate the way people like to gossip.” you chuckled lightly as you followed her back to the crowd.

Later ~

Lord Drummond was a generous host; it was clear from all the exquisite dishes and exotic fruits brought to the table by the staff. You sat on Lady Danbury’s side the whole time at the dining hall and tried to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes, especially two gazes following your every move. You sipped on your wine with trembling fingers holding onto the glass tightly when Lord Bridgerton seemed to have lost his patience and leaned forward across from you to your right.

“Lady Granville, I’m glad you could join us today. It was strange not seeing you at the latest ball.” Anthony spoke. You lifted your gaze at him and you knew you just made a mistake when your heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight. You haven’t seen him this close since you told him to stay away from you last time. It has been a month if you were correct but it felt way longer than that. Anthony’s brown eyes were boring into yours as he kept his gaze locked with yours, his lips pulled into a satisfied smile at successfully gaining your attention.

“I am allowed to fall ill sometimes, am I not?” you smiled politely. “Lord Bridgerton, was the hunting successful? Have you caught anything?”

“Only a pheasant but I have to admit I was not as enthusiastic about it as others.”

You lifted an inquiring eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“Sometimes we have the mood to play and sometimes we don’t.” he shrugged. “This time my mind was elsewhere.”

“You sound like you want to be asked where your mind was, Lord Bridgerton.” Lady Danbury quipped mischievously. Her eyes shimmered with a knowing look as she averted her gaze back to her plate and put a small piece of meat in her mouth.

“At the right time, from the right person, Lady Danbury.” Anthony smiled confidently at you then turned to another lord and started a conversation about some financials. You shot glances at him throughout the night, trying to figure out what was going on with not only him but you. Why couldn’t you move on? Why couldn’t you get him out of your mind? Why was it so easy for him to fill your heart and mind after only just a look, a smile, a word?

To be continued…

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#bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #romance #angst #fluff #idiots in love

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