A/n: so I’ve finally gotten back around to some of my requests, and this is one that really intrigued me. I’ve recently become obsessed with the musical Hamilton, and this is based on one of the songs, Burn. It’s an amazing, intense song, and Phillipa Soo has a voice fo dayz. Go listen. I’ll wait. Also, (y/s/n) is your sister’s name.
Request: Hey! Request for you! Can I please have a PietroxReader based on the song “Burn” from Hamilton by Phillipa Soo? It’s kind of obscure; but I think you’ll find it. Thank you!
Warnings: cheating on Pietro’s end, angst
“I saved every letter you wrote me, from the moment I read them I knew you were mine, you said you were mine, I thought were mine”
When you and Pietro first met, you never would have pegged him for the romantic type. That is, until the letters started pouring in. He was so smooth, sweet and flattering. He called you his princess, begged to see you again. You were so in awe of him. Here he was, this beautiful man, an Avenger no less, and he was in love with you? It took almost no time at all for you to reciprocate his feelings.
“You and your words flooded my senses, your sentences left me defenseless. You built me palaces out of paragraphs, you built cathedrals”
Sure, you had people try to warn you against him. He was too smooth, too super, they were afraid. But you didn’t care. You were so entranced by him, his bright blue eyes and shining silver hair. His declarations of love thrilled you, and everything around you seemed to burn a bit brighter when his hand was in yours. So naturally, when he asked for your hand in marriage, your answer was an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
“You published the letters she wrote you. You told the whole world how brought this girl into our bed, in clearing your name you have ruined our lives”
Then one day you got a call from your sister. “Hey, I just heard. How are you holding up?” she asked. “What do you mean? Heard what?” you responded, panic suddenly gripping your chest. Had something happened to Pietro? “You mean you don’t know?” (y/s/n) asked, and when you confirmed your ignorance, her voice suddenly took on a tone of nervousness. “Oh. Well, check out the gossip blog. There’s something you need to see.” Numbly, you turned on your computer and clicked through to the blog in question, one you followed religiously with your sister. There, on the front page, was your husband. Only, he wasn’t with you. He was standing beside another woman, a pregnant one. Holding her hand. The headline screamed “AVENGER INFIDELITY”, and you read through the article in a state of shock. Pietro had released text messages between him and this woman, letters he’d written her, and detailed the affair. Much of which had, apparently, taken place in the very room that you now sat in. You felt your heart splinter into pieces, just as your phone beeped, indicating another call. “I have to let you go, y/s/n. It’s Pietro.”
“I’m erasing myself from the narrative, let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart. You have torn it all apart, I’m watching it burn”
Over the next few weeks, you declined every opportunity for an interview. You had packed Pietro’s things and put them outside, and hadn’t seen him again. You didn’t want anyone to know how you felt, or what you said. The masses had no right to your feelings, and so you refused to share. Let everyone speculate.
“You forfeit all rights to my heart, you forfeit the place in our bed. You’ll sleep in your office instead, with only the memories of when you were mine”
Weeks later, you decided it was time to write Pietro one last letter. You demanded a real divorce, telling him that he had lost the right to call you his wife, the right to your home, the right to your love. You poured out your anger, your heartbreak, your deep feelings of betrayal. He had ruined everything, and now he would deal with the fall out. It wasn’t your pain to carry. Not anymore.