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#am I said because I liked the attention or sad because I wanted to go out with her
cordycepsfem · 20 hours
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So my girlfriend and I went to our local Pride event today, one that I’ve written about previously here.
I did not want to go. This is because I am new-task-avoidant, and Pride was on one day of my usually tightly-hoarded weekend. But she asked that I go and meet some of her friends from her volunteering group so I said sure.
Meeting her friends was great - they’re fun and welcoming people from a variety of backgrounds, and I’m glad we did that. I hope we can spend time with them again soon.
Then we go out to the actual festival part. It is loud. There are people everywhere. This is unsurprising because it is a pride event in a major city. As people we are not fond of loud, crowded events… but we made the effort to get here so we’re going to go through it.
So we start walking.
As we make our way through the crowds I realize that the two of us are some of the more conservative-looking individuals there. We’re in T-shirts, shorts, baseball caps, functional shoes. There are many, many people in what we on here are all familiar with as “queer” costuming - it’s loud, it’s ugly, and it’s adorned with pins and stickers demanding attention. Many people have giant flags around their necks.
We see booths with obviously female individuals selling merchandise emblazoned with “f*ggot” doing a robust business. Lots of apparel and accessories that scream “I have an identity and I’m here to make it your problem!!” One booth has a pin showing a mastectomy-scarred chest reading “the no-titty committee” which causes me to let out a sad noise, because sure enough I’ve seen at least ten individuals with bare chests and some awful mastectomy scars wandering around. Some have glitter or fancy tape adoring their scars. Others have very obvious “dog ears” which look sloppy and painful.
(Note: I am not saying that having scars is awful. I am saying that the way the incisions were made was imprecise, leaving scars that are larger and that look worse as compared to, like, an actually good surgeon performing a regulated procedure with a standardized course, and not a “gender medicine professional.” This is obviously my own bias from doing research and from seeing others “in the wild” and should only be taken as my opinion. I have plenty of scars; the surgical ones all look clean and well-executed. These did not.)
We keep walking. There were at least two furry booths. Lots of people in puppy masks. Plenty of trans-focused groups.
We buy a few things at some of the more relevant booths and I stop to talk to one group about a job. My girlfriend says she’s ready to go, so we cut around the rest of the park and head for a nearby bookstore.
As we’re walking she takes my hand. “That pride wasn’t for us.”
“No.”
“I don’t know who it was for, but it wasn’t for us.”
I said “I told you so” in the kindest of voices but it was really just sad. This event and so many others happening this month are no longer for actual LGBT people. They are a celebration of the commodification of “queer” identity. Were there some booths there with people doing good work for those in our communities? Yes, without a doubt. But was there a bigger contingent of people there to give a “fuck you” to the world? Yep.
The first Pride events were to show straight people that LGBT people were not sexual deviants. Now the sexual deviants have booths at the Pride events.
I would just like a lesbian event. Just women. I’m willing to start it and run it. Girlfriend was so excited to go to Pride, and I think she left more disappointed than anything else. There are no longer a lot of “normies” at Pride. They have to be somewhere, so where?
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therealdisneyfan2319 · 10 months
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Got on dating apps, matched with a girl and was talking to her for a few days aaaaaaaaaand I’m pretty sure she ghosted me so I bought a ps4 to cope with my emotions.
Game suggestions?
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helianskies · 1 month
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ugly maths.
i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.
thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!
you... wanna see?
okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!
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ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!
huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—
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better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—
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mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?
here, i can make it worse.
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these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.
now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.
why ugly?
because it makes me ugly.
those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.
87, 75.
the thoughts are as follows:
• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.
• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.
• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!
okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:
that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.
4, 708.
ugly maths.
the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!
27.
mmmm.
6161, 1061.
5100.
87, 75.
12.
mmmm.
you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(
it made me :)
well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.
they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.
1.
have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?
i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.
oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.
ready?
838, 245.
(want a hint? the green numbers!)
838, 87. 245, 75.
9.6, 3.3.
ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!
the numbers make me ask new questions:
• why is it not good enough?
• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?
• is all this maths this really good for you?
no, it isn't.
i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.
ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.
ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.
i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.
#helia rants#cw vent#i'm okay but i'm not#this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks#it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here#i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read#bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally#that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths#and in turn starting to feel uglier too#i don't like looking at the numbers#i was doing well at the start of the year#but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote#i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense#the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too#i hate that this is what i've become#because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them#but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers#and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer#and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff#this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret#this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no#it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)
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uselessnbee · 1 year
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sometimes i feel so petty i want to make a big post about all the times Will and El weren't that great towards Mike just to ..you know.. balance it out a bit
#it's always here's all the times Mike hurt Will and El's feelings and never here's all the times Will and El hurt Mike's feelings#it's so unfair like i saw people hating Mike over fucking MILKSHAKES because they just had to find a reason to hate him it's so stupid#if i went on here and started hating on Will and El for not laughing at Mike's vomit green joke cause it made him sad yall would call me#absolutely crazy and delusional like be fucking for real Mike just breathes wrong in Will's or El's direction and he's the devil himself#but Will and El could literally call Mike a slur to his face and yall would be like hE dESeRvEd iT tHeY DiDnT dO aNyThiNG wRoNG like fr#there are so many small times when Mike tried to get Will's attention like the vomit green joke or the they're conspiring against me moment#and everyone always just laughs how Mike is a loser trying to get their attention but they always just ignore him or whatever but if it was#reversed? if it was Will trying to get Mike's attention only for Mike to either ignore him or yell in his face how it's stupid to be#concerned about something so small? oh yall would go ballistic suddenly yall wouldn't care how small these things are suddenly you would#want Mike fucking dead but when it's the other way around it's just funny and embarassing for Mike? and not just small things like this#when we point out how El invalidated his feelings and dismissed his bullying everyone is like oh she didn't mean that she meant it like#this she meant it like that she said it because of this and that and the situation is like this so this is why she said that#and blah blah blah she didn't do anything wrong but when it comes to Mike suddenly it doesnt matter if he meant it differently or if it was#the situation and messy feelings making him say something hurtful no he's just an asshole oh i am cursing you all#i hope you step on lego every day and your favorite snack is always sold out in every shop i hope every cat you try to call will ignore you#or hiss at you i am so tired of the double standards when it comes to Mike and willel i am so angry#mike wheeler#mike wheeler protection squad#blue's 'mike's extreme defender' ramblings#i got a little carried away in the tags but i'm not sorry i said what i said#and idc if i get hate for it cause i'm right anyways
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reunion
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: Slow burn; unrequited love; angst; yearning; divorced Art Donaldson; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; safe sex
Summary: It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
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"Did you hear Art Donaldson is supposed to be here?"
The question is whispered behind you and makes your hand freeze in its signing. You're half-bent over the table at reception, fingers tight around a pen as your mind is jogged.
No way was he turning up, that's what Anne had said.
Tashi will be there, she's the head of the goddamn reunion committee, the ink is still wet on their divorce—that's what Anne had said. Hell, she'd sworn it.
So what the hell is he doing here?
The sound of your name jogs your attention and you manage to finish signing in. You straighten, taking up your name tag and haphazardly slapping the adhesive onto your top. You need a drink, and quickly. You're halfway to the bar before you feel someone wind their arm through yours.
"Okay, I know you didn't wanna come—"
"Anne."
"And I so appreciate you being here so that I didn't have to come alone—"
"Anne—"
"But I got some news and it's going to be a little shocking so I think you should hear it from me—"
"I know he's here."
"What?" Anne freezes, her arm dropping from yours. You turn to see her looking stricken, her cheeks pinking with panic and embarrassment. You sigh softly, glancing around your fellow alumni. Less than half of them look familiar; your eyes catch on the odd face before you realize that you're inadvertently looking for him.
"Look, there are, like...Five hundred people here, alright?" You add. "I probably won't even see him."
"We can go."
"Look, we made the trip, we're here, we may as well stay. It's fine, okay? We're all adults here! It doesn't matter!" Your insistence is chased by a slightly hysterical laugh. "It was, like, a hundred years ago."
"...You're sure?"
"I am positive."
Positive that you need a drink, and positive that you're going to regret agreeing to stay.
--
It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
You were friends, sure. You palled around, had a few classes together, hung out at a few parties—but he was so in love with Tashi Duncan that you'd never made his romantic radar. You'd forced yourself to believe that that was for the best, that you didn't need his love or romantic validation to be happy. But you couldn't pretend that wanting him didn't sting.
He'd had a couple of girlfriends while you were at Stanford, but you could always feel, always see that they were never really his priority. It was Tashi, then tennis, then them.
The two of you had kept touch a little after college, but you'd pushed yourself to move on. Conversation had begun to fade, and when he hadn't tried to keep it up, you had resolved to let him go.
You'd avoided his name in the news as much as you can, but it had been hard. He was on billboards, packaging, tv—it was like you couldn't escape him.
Want melted to sadness; sadness shifted to annoyance; annoyance hardened into disdain. You couldn't see his likeness or hear his name without rolling your eyes. It wasn't his fault, of course, but the prospect of running into Art fuckin' Donaldson made you queasy.
Still, you put on a brave face for Anne, forcing your focus into conversation.
It's a struggle to keep your gaze from seeking him out. You take each sip with a little white lie, convincing yourself that you're looking to make sure you can avoid contact. You spot Tashi a couple of times, but you don't go out of your way to say hello. She's surrounded by a cloud of people—taking pictures, signing programs and name tags and old Duncanator shirts.
When Anne insists on going to say hello, you force a small smile.
"You, um—you go ahead," You nod, taking a couple of steps back. "I'm gonna get some air."
Anne's dark eyes flit over you questioningly before she blessedly lets it go, nodding and going on her way. You turn, swiping a fresh drink off of a passing waiter's tray as you leave.
It takes a few moments for the buzz of conversation to clear from your head. You take a gulp of the prosecco, wrinkling your nose. It's a little sweeter than you usually like, and doesn't mingle well with the three other drinks that you've downed. Tashi's not going to find your lack of presence or greeting conspicuous; you'd been cordial and on speaking terms in college, but the two of you had never been close.
Damn, but it's chillier outside than you thought it would be. The reception had been so warm, so crammed with people. Paired your head being near-permanently on a swivel, you hadn't realize how hot and tense you'd been.
You frown at the waft of cigarette smoke that catches your nose. Who the hell is still smoking in this day and age—
"Are you hiding, too?"
Maybe you can feign that you didn't hear him—that the sound of his voice didn't jog a hundred memories and trigger a flurry of butterflies. But before you can stop yourself, you turn, the words, "I thought you quit smoking," tumbling out of your mouth.
Art's smile widens as he draw the cigarette back from his lips, a stream of smoke pushed out of the side of his mouth.
"I did. Quit quitting, though." He takes one more puff before he flicks it away, drifting closer. "Hi."
Hi, like it's not the first time you've seen him in the better part of a decade. Hi, like neither of you are oceans from where you where when you last saw one another.
"Hi," You manage. He doesn't hesitate to draw you into his arms; he seems to almost do it without thinking. You only allow yourself a moment of resistance before you raise and curl your arms around him. The clean scent of his pressed jacket and woodsy cologne are muddled with smoke. The fingers of one if your hands curls covetously in the fabric of his jacket as his palms smooth gently over your back. You hear him draw in a deep breath, feel him hold it, and then release it with a soft hum.
"How the hell are you?"
Probably better than you are these days.
You shrug a little, mumbling, "Fine."
He draws away, eyes skating across your face.
"You don't sound so sure about that."
"I'm sure."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
You can feel him winding up for another pass at it, but you hold your glass out before he can. His fingers brush against yours as he drains it.
"Why are you hiding?" You ask. He shrugs, nods toward the door.
"It's a lot in there. I forgot what these events are like."
"People wanna congratulate you. They're proud."
"Are you?"
"I am, but I'll hold off. Don't wanna crowd you."
Your attention is drawn from Art's smile as you hear someone clearing their throat over the speaker system inside:
"If we could have the reunion chairpersons to the stage, please!"
You glance toward Art and find him fidgeting, his thumb smoothing across his bare ring finger.
"…Do you wanna go back in?" You offer. He considers before he says, "Wait here."
You watch curiously as he darts inside, and are stunned when he reappears a moment later. You just barely catch a glimpse of the bottle of champagne clenched in his fist before he rests his other hand on your lower back, steering you away with an urgent murmur of, "C'mon."
--
"I'm surprised you came," You tell him. Art doesn't look at you for a moment, and you take the chance to lean back against the hard plastic seat. He's as beautiful as he was the last time the two of you were together, the night before graduation—practically in the same seats. You don't know if he was thinking about that when he'd led the way into the stands, chosen where to sit. Maybe it was pure muscle-memory.
Either way, you don't know how long the two of you have been sitting out there, knees bumping, passing the bottle back and forth. You take in his profile—the slope of his nose and cut of his jaw; the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows.
"My therapist said it would be good," He finally admits. "Told me I needed to get out more, start getting back into events, work at the foundation...What about you, huh?" He turns, brows raising. "You always told me that you hated this stuff."
You're surprised he remembers.
"I do hate this stuff, but," You shrug. "Anne didn't want to come alone."
"You're a good friend. I never forgot that." He sits up and passes the bottle back to you. "What happened to us, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did we stop talking?"
I couldn't keep begging for scraps of attention.
"I don't know," You deflect. "Guess we just lost touch. It happens."
"I shouldn't have let it happen to us."
You look down at the bottle, sweeping your finger across a slipping drop of condensation.
"You were busy."
"You weren't?"
"Not in the same way," You laugh self-consciously.
"What were you busy with then, huh?" He shifts, thigh pressing against yours. "You used to always say you'd uh—burn out by twenty-six."
"Yeah."
"Did you?"
"Oh, it didn't take nearly that long."
"What!" He laughs. "What the hell happened?"
"I don't know what to tell you, man. A girl can only take a soul-sucking marketing job for so long."
"So what do you do now?"
"Still in marketing, but I'm a manager, so. Still soul-sucking, but making a little more money."
"You like it?"
"God no, but I don't know what else I would do." You pass the bottle back.
"Could find something for you at the foundation."
You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head as Art sputters a laugh, asks, "What?"
"Don't do that, Art."
"Don't do what?"
"I don't need, you know—"
"We could use you—"
"You don't even know what I do at work."
"I bet it's great—"
"You don't even know if I'm a good worker—"
"Sure I do, I know you."
"No, you don't!"
You know it's a mistake the second it leaves your mouth. Art's smile wavers as he leans away again.
"I just mean—" You try.
"I know what you mean. It's been a long time."
"...Yeah, it has." You take the bottle back, drawing deeply from it before passing it back. "I should get going. I'm sure Anne's looking for me."
"Sure."
You don't say goodbye or tell him that it was nice to see him. You just make as hasty a retreat as you can without tripping over your feet.
--
@ a_donaldsonofficial requested to follow you. 3h
You're not sure what surprises you more—the follow request or the message in your DMs: Dinner?
--
His groan is sinful and low, and makes you rethink ever losing contact with the guy. Under the warm glow of the diner's lights, his eyes slip shut, fingers tightening around the bun.
"...When's the last time you had a burger?" You finally manage to ask.
"I can't remember." He admits it through the mouthful, and you don't begrudge him the couple of flecks of food that land on the table. You smile, plucking up a couple of fries.
"Art?"
"Mm."
"Why'd you ask me to dinner?"
Art sets the burger down as he swallows, taking off his napkin to clean off his hands.
"I was thinking...About what you said at the reunion."
"Mhm."
"About me not knowing you. You're right. But you know what?" He presses on before you can process your surprise. "I don't think you know me, either."
You think for a moment, brows furrowing. He's right. You know the image of Art Donaldson that's been projected to you over the years—on tv screens, in magazines, in online clips.
"...I don't think I do," You agree.
"Figured we should fix that. Catch up, fill each other in on what we've missed."
"Okay."
"So, after college..." He trails off, waving his hand. "Fill me in."
"Moved to New York."
"Uh-huh."
"Working in marketing."
"Burned out before 26—"
"Yeah, hit my capitalistic peak at 23."
"That fast?"
"I mean, that's the last time I remember giving a shit about work, so. Yeah."
"Relationships?"
"...A couple," You admit.
"Serious?"
"Yeah. One."
"Married?"
"No. Engaged." His eyes drop to your bare left hand, and you hurriedly tuck it into your lap. "Formerly engaged."
"What happened?"
"It just didn't feel right. I don't think either of us were ready."
"...Was it anyone I knew? I don't remember you dating much at school."
"Guess I didn't."
"You weren't shy."
"Well no, but—"
"So what was it?"
"I had the worst crush on you, dude!" It's another mistake, but where the last one seemed to make Art retreat, this one leaves his gobsmacked. His eyes widen, mouth opening in a wide smile.
"You what?"
"Oh, kay, you know what—"
"I had no idea!"
"I was very subtle."
Art leans back in the diner booth, watching you openly. You can see the gears turning in his head, and you wonder what he may be remembering, holding up and twisting about in this new light.
"...Huh," He mutters.
"You can feel free to forget that at any time."
"I don't think I will...I wish I'd known."
You consider for a moment before you shrug. "I don't know. I'm kinda glad that you didn't."
"Really?" His brows knit with confusion. "Why?"
"I don't like coming second, Art."
Art nods slowly, and you see something tight pass across his face before it's smoothed away again.
"You know what?" He smiles bitterly. "Neither do I."
You nod toward his plate.
"Your burger's getting cold."
--
"So, uh..." Art clears his throat as the two of you take slow, drifting steps to your car. "I'm gonna say two things, and I don't want you to think that they've got anything to do with what you said earlier."
You know exactly what he means, but you just grumble, "I said a lot of things earlier."
"I think we both know which one I'm talking about."
"Uh-huh. So what's up?"
"...I wanna see you again."
"Okay."
"But things are a little...Messy right now. Tashi and I are working on getting Lily into a regular rhythm and it's harder than we thought it would be."
You lean back against your car, tucking your hands into your pockets.
"Mhm...I hesitate to ask."
"Yeah."
"How does this have to do with what I said earlier?"
"I just don't want you to think that this is—"
"A consolation prize?"
"Something like that."
"Whatever you need to do to get in a good place with Lily is fine, Art, you don't need to justify that to me."
"Even if it means you come second?"
You tip your head to the side, pursing your lips. "It's different when it's your kid. I meant that I didn't want to be second to—You know."
"...Yeah," He mutters, looking at his feet as he takes another foot forward. "And for the record, I was thinking of asking you out again by the time we sat down."
"You could've changed your mind."
"I didn't. And I don't want to."
You smile, nodding. "Well I don't want you to, either." You straighten up as you fish into your bag for your keys. "Call me the next time you're in New York."
"Sure."
You reach out, cupping his cheek and leaning in, pecking his cheek. You pull away, smiling at the flush creeping across his face.
"Goodnight, Art."
"Night."
--
It isn't easy at first. Messages are far and few, mostly how are yous and how was your days. You think that as nice as the little swell of contact has been, that's all it'll be—but the two of you both start to really try. The odd text becomes the weekly phone call. Weekly phone calls become daily FaceTimes. On the nights when he has Lily, they're late, usually when you're getting ready for bed. On the nights when he's on his own, the two of you eat dinner together and chat over your calls. It isn't always perfect, but it's more than you could've anticipated from that dinner a couple of months ago.
--
"She down?"
"Yeah."
"Are you in a hotel again?"
"...Yeah." Art seems to admit it grudgingly, and you smile a little as you take up your toner and a cotton pad.
"There's nothing wrong with leaning into it if it's working," You argue. "And not to be that bitch, but you're not exactly broke."
"Might be if she keeps ordering room service and movies on-demand."
You laugh softly, turning your attention to your reflection as you swipe the toner across your face.
"How's your day been?" Art asks.
"Fine, standard. I had to fill out an assessment ahead of my annual review."
"When's that?"
"End of the week."
"How do you feel about it?"
"Mm," You shrug reaching for a serum. "Fine, I guess. I'm doing okay, my team's hitting their targets."
"You're doing better than okay."
"Art."
"You are."
"Well. Thank you for that." You glance over as he goes quiet, catching a glimpse of him as you smooth the serum into your skin. You raise your brows at the sight of his gentle, warm smile. "What is it?"
"You're beautiful."
Your face goes warm at the compliment, and you bite the inside of your cheek to tamp down your wide, idiotic smile.
"You are tired, huh," You deflect.
"I mean it."
"...I know," You murmur, reaching for your moisturizer. "Tell me what you got up to today."
"I had a meeting at the foundation. We're starting planning for the gala."
"Oh yeah? Have you done them before?"
"We've had three before, but I was usually playing or training, so I haven't been as involved in the planning."
"How's it been?"
"We're still in the preliminary stages, but it's been interesting, you know, seeing how the pieces come together before I usually see them."
You nod, picking the phone up from the mirror holder and heading into your bedroom.
"Where are you gonna have it?"
"We're still scouting locations...As a matter of fact," Art adds, "We're considering a few in New York."
"Oh?"
"I'll be down there for at least a few days, and I wanna see you."
You grin bashfully as you climb into bed, settling against your pillows.
"I wanna see you, too. Are you gonna, um—I mean, is Lily gonna be with you?"
"No, it'll be Tashi's weekend."
"Okay, cool. Just wanna make sure I don't mess up your time."
"I appreciate that." Art's tongue swipes across his lower lip, eyes sweeping across your face. "I gotta say..."
"Mmm?"
"I'm looking forward to seeing your apartment."
"Oh, really?" You chuckle. "Why's that?"
"It'll be interesting, that's all. I mean, you already take me to bed every night."
You laugh, covering your eyes as you groan, "Oh, god, shut up!" as Art chuckles.
"Let me know when you're free," You add. "Your schedule's gonna be weirder than mine."
"Yeah, I will, as soon as I know what it is." You watch as Art lays down, propping his phone up on the nightstand. "...Can you stay on?"
"Yeah," You soothe, setting your phone on the nightstand in suit. "Until we fall asleep."
"Okay," He murmurs. The two of you settle in on your sides, watching one another on the phone.
"Night, Art."
"Sweet dreams."
--
The restaurant is picked. Your nails are done, your hair is done; you get a new dress, new shoes, a new bag. You're going to have an amazing night—a good dinner, a great conversation, and, if you have any luck, an amazing good night kiss.
--
You know the minute you see him that you're not making it to the restaurant. Art's eyes sweep over you in covetous wonder when you open the door. He closes the gap between the two of you, drawing you into his arms, and this time you go without a second thought. He presses his face into your neck, letting out a gentle hum at the scent of your perfume. The tip of his nose trails up over your jaw, his lips brushing the corner of your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He sighs as you draw in a nervous breath, and he sways in, lips pressing to yours.
You raise your hand to cup his neck, shivering as his hands smooth over your hips. He guides you deeper inside, blindly reaching back and shoving the door shut behind you as you fling your purse toward the bench in your entryway. His kisses grow hungrier as he steers you down the hall. You slip your tongue along his, smoothing your hand up to grasp his hair. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his pale, muscled chest to you. He slides down the zipper on the back of your dress and leans away just long enough to draw the dress up over your head. His eyes sweep across you, taking in your lingerie.
You hook your thumbs under the band of your underwear, giving them a teasing wiggle as you back further away from him. You expect him to follow, but he steers you back against the wall, dropping his head to suck hot kisses along your neck and down to your chest. He yanks one of the cups of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, tipping your head back against the wall and whining as he slots his knee between your thighs. You roll your hips down against the hard muscle as he laves and teases your nipple, reaching up to thumb and tweak the other.
"Art—Mm, god that feels so good."
He groans against your skin, trailing his kisses further down as he lowers himself to his knees. You look down as he curls his fingers around your panties—and waits. You smile softly, nodding, murmuring, "Please?"
Art grins, pressing a kiss to your hip before he gently eases the fabric down, waiting for you to lift your feet so he can fling them away. He leans in, swiping his tongue across your aching clit. Your knees would knock if he wasn't wedged between them. You draw in a shallow breath, letting your head tip back as he draws your leg over his shoulder. You shiver at the feeling of the chilly air against your heated, slick flesh. He nuzzles and laps against your cunt, taking each tip of your hips in stride. His hand smooths up your trembling inner thigh, giving your ass a gentle squeeze before he teases a finger into you. You whimper at the touch, unable to help the way your pussy clenches around it.
Art groans at the feeling, turning his head to smear his lips slips against your hip.
"Goddamn," He breaths against you.
"More."
You feel more than hear his gentle chuckle as he eases another finger in.
"Need it bad, huh?"
"You have no idea."
"I'm getting a pretty good idea." He turns his head, leveling a sucking kiss to your clit that makes you cry out. You tighten your grip on his hair as he pumps his fingers harder, curling and scissoring them as he pushes you closer to the edge.
"Art—Mm, god, fuck, yes—Yes—" Your toes curl in your shoes as your hips rabbit down against his face and fingers, chasing the swell of your orgasm. You look back down as he draws back and find his lips and chin shining with your juices.
"Bed," He urges.
"You can fuck me right here."
Art laughs, standing and smoothing his hand over your thigh.
"We're doing this right."
"We could be doing this right...." You slid your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his pants. "Here."
You grin as Art's eyelids flutter, his dick twitching against you.
"Bed," He insists again.
It isn't far to go, and the two of you are entirely bare by the time you get there. You scooch back onto the bed, spreading your legs as he rolls on a condom. He's over you a moment later, and you watch the bulge of his biceps as he braces his hands on either side of your head. You bite your lip as you feel the brush of his cock against your entrance. You reach down, grasping his cock and guiding him closer.
You tip your head up, tongue teasing the seam of his lips as he eases into you. You melt into the mattress as he crushes against you, filling you completely. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding your legs over his, as if you'll manage to fuse the two of you together. Art's tongue swirls around yours before he captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips slowly.
"More," You plead, but Art keeps his pace achingly steady, even when you try to pick up the pace.
"You feel so fucking good," He breathes, "Even better than you taste."
"Harder, Art, please, god damn, please," You whimper. He tips his head to the side nipping at the hinge of your jaw as he reaches down, hiking your hip up even higher. Your mouth fell open with a stunned moan as he presses deeper, the slap of his hips filthily filling the stifling air around you. You arch up against him, nails raking down his back as you feel the swell of another orgasm.
"Art."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm—Fuck, almost—"
"That's it." He sucks his fingers between his lips before he slips them between your bodies, swiping across your tender clit. You begin to close your eyes, but he tuts softly.
"Don't—Don't close your eyes—Look at me," He orders between breaths. You force yourself to focus on Art, taking in the flush on his cheeks, his almost dazed eyes.
"You, too—" You urge.
"Yeah—"
"Oh—yeah," You gasp, unable to keep your gaze on his you cum. You feel Art's hips slap roughly against yours before he slows, groaning low in his chest. You draw in a deep breath as your heart pounds in your chest, sinking back against your pillows as he settles down over you. You smooth your hand over his nape, smiling as he nuzzles against your shoulder, dropping tender kisses to your skin.
"...Art?"
"Yeah?"
"I think we're going to be late for dinner."
--
"You know, I've been thinking."
"You've been doing a lot more than thinking, mister," You mutter, and grin as Art laughs. You cuddle closer against his side, nuzzling into his chest as he tightens his arm around your shoulders.
"I'm glad I didn't know you liked me in college."
"Really?" You tip your head up, brow furrowing. "Why's that?"
"...I wasn't ready for you back then." He smooths his fingers along your jaw, eyes wandering your face contemplatively. "It's like you said, you know. You would've come second."
You nod, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.
"I don't think I was ready for you, either," You admit. Art smiles.
"And you are now?"
"More than."
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity
@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;
@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989
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toji-girl · 2 months
Text
part two to this + mdni 18+ content + angst + steamy stuff + suggestive
Toji furrowed his eyebrows as the door widened to reveal Shiu, who stood there in a soft t-shirt and lounge pants like it was his place.
"Gumi! Hi, baby. Are you ok?" You asked, immediately dropping to your son's height, ignoring the two men staring at each other.
He nodded and turned around to grab the sacks filled with goodies, which in turn let Toji inside turning the air into something thicker with tension as you smiled softly looking at Megumi who looked back at you with a soft smile so much like yours.
"Thank you, you are so sweet." You cooed hugging him tightly not wanting to let go of him.
It sucked every time letting your son go for the week and waiting for him to come back home.
But you could admit it was nice to be able to sleep in during the weekday and to have time to yourself, however, sometimes you missed them so much you almost called Toji to come back for the night so you weren't alone and you three could be a family again.
You gestured Megumi to take the bags in the kitchen before turning your attention to Toji. "Is everything ok?" You asked again looking at him.
His attention was still on Shiu, who observed the entire situation silently. "He missed you, said you cry every night." He murmured, his eyes now shifting to you with a glint of sadness and understanding.
You furrowed your eyebrows thinking of Megumi hearing you, and it wasn't every night, but a lot of the times your bed felt too big for just you, and it felt...odd to be alone after being with Toji for so long.
Toji wanted nothing more than to scoop you in his arms and kiss away your turmoil. "Are you two fuckin'?" He blurted in a quiet tone, his eyes flickering with anger and a deep-seated jealousy at the thought of you with Shiu together.
"What the hell kind of question is that!? It doesn't matter if I am or not." You told him in a low tone rolling your eyes just in time for Megumi to come bounding back into his arms.
Toji took hold of his hand and looked down at him with a sad smile. It was clear he wanted to stay with you, and if he let him, then it would only serve to push them further apart.
He watched Megumi pull away for a second hug bidding you goodbye and goodnight as you helplessly let go of your baby who wasn't a baby anymore with his father who wasn't your husband anymore.
Shiu stepped closer to you, his hand coming up to your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze catching Toji's attention, as did your sniffling.
But he wasn't the man you wanted or needed anymore to help balm your hurt. However, that didn't stop him from turning around to brush a tear off your cheek before he left with Megumi.
Once it was just you and Shiu, you turned around and sobbed into his chest letting him wrap his arms around you gently. "I know."
Toji's question made your stomach twist with guilt even though you and Shiu never even kissed. He was just there for you in ways you needed, as a friend, nothing more, despite the feelings that grew between you both slowly.
You've known him just as long as you've known Toji. He was even at your wedding and now he was here comforting after your husband left with your son. "How dare Toji even ask us that?" You muttered when you pulled away from Shiu to head into the living room.
He followed after and sat next to you on the couch, the air shifted from tense to something more charged as you rested your head on his shoulder. "He's jealous and feels threatened that I'm here for you. Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Will you be okay tonight?" He asked with genuine worry in his voice as he held your hand.
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Shiu was right.
Monday morning you found yourself at Toji's door knocking on the door quickly before you changed your mind. Megumi was at school so you would be alone with him, and you told yourself it was because you didn't want an audience but wanted that time with him as well.
"Everythin' ok?" Toji asked with a husky voice that was rough around the edges with sleep, the sound made you think about the mornings with him when he would wrap you in his arms not letting you go even when you giggled and tried to wiggle free he'd just hold you tighter.
You pushed your way inside your old shared home, the smells of baking cookies and dinners, and the sight of pictures still hanging up made your stomach twist. "Why would you ask if I was fucking Shiu? How is that any of your business?" You spat looking at him.
He leveled your look with a slow smirk that curled his lips, the scarred side lifted. "Mhm, you came all this way to ask me that? A phone call woulda worked darlin'." Toji shot back and walked into the kitchen.
It was obvious he knew you would follow him after shutting the door trying to come up with some excuse because he was right. "I'm not your darlin' anymore so stop calling me that and you don't ever answer your phone." You hissed and watched as he made coffee.
He didn't wear a shirt and you knew his skin was warm and he smelled good, his scent was something you'd never soon forget. You ached to lay your cheek on his back like old times but you also know you two aren't meant to be lovers in the way you want to be.
It hurt like hell to know you were his soulmate but your souls barely caressed one another, like two sheets in the wind before blowing away completely. However, you still wanted to fight for your relationship with him and to hold him and kiss him again and again.
"So are you fuckin' him or not then? If not you don't want to tell me because you're still in love with me and if you did then that means you moved on. Which is it?" Toji drawled when he turned around to look at you as he leaned against the counter knowing the answer.
Your mouth opened then closed as you stammered while rolling your eyes. "It's -"
"None of my business, I heard you sweetheart but it seems you ain't hearing me."
You watched as he pushed himself off the counter to invade your space blocking out the light from the kitchen sink making the room smaller and him that much bigger he backed you into the living room until you hit the armrest of the couch falling over onto the cushions with him towering above you with a dark chuckle. "You love me still."
It was the truth, you do love him and would always. However, the relationship felt at a standstill, and sex was the bandaid that never really fixed anything. He kneeled between your legs and leaned down until your breaths mingled together in a warm fan. "I love you too."
His lips barely brushed against yours making you ache as you gripped the couch cushions feeling your pussy drool and pulse around nothing. "We can't make this work Toji, we both know that."
"I know that I love you and I don't want any other woman, and I tried but as soon as they went to touch me I couldn't do it because they weren't you." He whispered staring deep into your eyes as he slid his arms under yours letting you fall to your back softly with a smirk.
Your heart hammered in your chest, his words and actions were so smooth it made you feel like a teenager kissing her crush for the first time. Butterflies took home in your belly as you stared back at him.
The idea of some other woman touching him made your skin crawl.
But when he said they weren't you, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his for the first time in a year. Everything felt like static as he kissed you back, his tongue sliding in your mouth to slowly stroke against yours igniting that fire deep inside you.
His chest was pressed against yours as you sunk into the couch more wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist.
Just when you pulled away to tell him to undress you, your phone went off, your ringtone indicated it was the school, about Megumi.
The sound broke your focus as you scrambled out from under Toji to pull your phone out, answering it. "Hello, yes, this is his mother...he did what? Me and my husband are on the way." You told the sectary.
You hung up and sighed as you felt your shoulders hike up to your ears. You called Toji, your husband, which did not go unnoticed by him judging by the smirk on his lips that melted into something else.
"What happened with Megs?" He asked, standing quickly to pull his shirt on before the two of you could get in your car and to the school.
The ride was silent, minus the soft hum of the engine.
There weren't any words said until you both got in the office with a sullen Megumi who sat hunched over in his seat. "What in the world happened, baby? Are you ok?" You asked worriedly as you and Toji sat next to him.
Your son sat still and silent, not saying anything for a moment until he sighed. "A classmate said you two didn't love each other and made fun of me for it." Each word felt like a dagger as you struggled to maintain a neutral face.
"Oh, of course, we love each other...it's just different. How about tonight we have a family dinner? You two come over to my place?" You suggested rubbing Megumi's back gently looking over at Toji.
Toji nodded in agreement as he held your hand and ruffled his sons hair. "Did you hit him first?" He asked curiously.
"No."
You looked at Toji, then Megumi, as the principal came out, was ready to discuss the situation, which thankfully got resolved.
It seemed a teacher was nearby when the other student started in on a few more kids before moving on to Megumi giving him a hard time.
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Later that night, you set your dining room table when an urgent knock on your door made your pulse jump. As you approached it, you looked in the peephole to see it covered by something.
Your door was locked and chained, which rattled with their next knock, the idea of them coming across Megumi and Toji made you sick with worry.
Quickly and quietly, you walked into the living room, grabbing your phone, calling Toji.
"Someone is at my door pounding on it, covering the peephole. Where are you two?" You asked worriedly as you sat on the couch after making sure you weren't visible from any windows.
It seemed that whoever it was was gone after a few more knocks.
"We just pulled into the parking lot. No one is here, I'll bring Megumi inside and look around." Toji told you, his tone serious.
Worry ate at you as you met Toji at the door. "Thank you so much, please hurry." You ached to kiss him. Instead, you squeezed his hand. before letting him go to check everything out.
Megumi immediately ran inside and into the living room as you waited for Toji by the door, leaving it cracked with the chain on to see.
As soon as you saw him, you let him inside, then shut and locked the door. "Would you spend the night, please?" You asked softly looking at him baring your vulnerability for him to see.
You both stood by your front door stepping closer together until you were in his arms feeling safer as you nuzzled into him. "How about we just go home? Someone saw me walking around and said the same thing happened to them last night, I ain't leavin' my wife and son here alone with someone doin' that." He told you leaving no room for a no.
"Wife? We seem to both have done that today..." You murmured melting into his arms when he hugged you closer to his body.
Toji chuckled and leaned in pressing his lips against yours. "You will forever be my wife. Now let's go home."
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ladysharmaa · 2 months
Text
Why don't you love me?
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?
(gif is not mine)
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It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.
It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.
Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.
This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.
From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.
However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.
She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?
So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?
It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.
"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.
"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.
At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."
The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."
"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"
However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.
"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"
Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."
When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."
"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.
Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.
But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.
One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.
It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.
To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.
Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"
"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.
The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.
On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.
"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.
"What?" he asked, still disoriented.
Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."
Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"
"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"
The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.
Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.
Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.
"It was silly of me to ask—"
"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."
"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"
"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."
"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.
"No."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.
The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.
Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.
While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.
But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."
"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.
Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.
"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."
The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.
"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."
"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.
"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."
"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."
"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."
Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.
"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."
She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.
"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.
"Lord Bridgerton—"
"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.
"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"
"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."
"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."
"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."
"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.
She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.
Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."
"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."
And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.
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the-moon-dealer · 1 year
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Ignore it.
#friends#its sad lol#everyone has someone that will be there for them#like im this person to some people but weirdly i dont have anyone be there for me lol#i have a person who cares but thats all#not like I'll have someone to go back to#i dont really have a family and lately my number is getting lower and lower#i feel like its my fault for being the way i am#like i was talking to a random person and they said they love the way their mom wakes them up#and how their family makes everything they can to be with them and how their friends are alwys there#and that got me because since November i felt that three of the most important people in my life just put me aside lol#im not asking for attention or to talk to me 24/7 but i felt that we're not so close anymore and the reason is unknown#and by losing them im actually feeling less and less need to reach out other people#and this put me in a place where i hate so much#because i go and isolate myself from everyone and everything else and hyperfocus on anything im doing#my new class starts next week and its making me anxious because with everyone being distant like that#i know ill just focus on the class and forget im a human lol and it's bad#plus also has other shit that is in my head and its actually making me think about killing myself#you have any idea of how fucked up it is?#i don't want to die but eveyday since 2004 has been a nightmare#ist almot 20 years of suffering lol#well im tired of it all#wont bother anyone with this shit because its my shit#but i really hope all my friends and family be good
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auras-moonstone · 8 months
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how you get the girl — ethan landry
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word count: 3,654
pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: because of ethan’s reputation as a man-whore, y/n doesn’t believe he wants a serious relationship with her. so, ethan and chad make a list so that he can get the girl.
warnings: fluff.
author’s note: i’ve been reading lots of hockey rom-coms, so i needed to write about it. i’m obsessed with ethan as a hockey player😫
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ETHAN DIDN’T KNOW HOW BADLY HIS ACTIONS WOULD COME BACK IN THE FUTURE TO BITE HIM IN THE ASS. Being captain of the Blackmore hockey team and certified pretty boy, girls were practically—and quite literally sometimes—throwing themselves at him, and he would lie if he said he didn’t love the attention. It would be easier and shorter to name the girls he hadn’t hooked up with than naming the ones he had. That gained him the reputation of being a playboy, and he didn’t mind being called that, to be completely honest. Or at least, he didn’t until Y/N came into his life.
She was Tara’s best friend, and since said girl started dating Ethan’s best friend, Chad, the four of them began spending lots of time together. At first, the boy flirted with Y/N because hitting on attractive girls was like second nature to him, but then he got to know her better and the unexpected thing happened—Ethan was swept off his feet. But his reputation was his karma, and Y/N didn’t think he was being serious with her. She would laugh and brush it off because no matter how gorgeous Ethan was, playboys weren’t Y/N’s type, so she would decline every attempt of him to make her go out with him.
“Why not? Just one date” Ethan said on his fifth attempt of the day. They were on the Blackmore hockey rink, and instead of using his break to drink water and rest, Ethan went to talk to Y/N.
“Exactly. You want just one date, get me inside your bed and tomorrow you’ll move onto some other girl. I really like you” she said, and before he could smirk in victory she added. “But why ruin the friendship we have for sex? Besides, one night stands aren’t my cup of tea.”
“Then let’s make it an every day thing” Ethan said.
“Nice try, Eth. We know you don’t do repeats” she stated.
“I could!” he argued. “And besides, I’m not asking for sex—I mean, at the end of the date, if you want to, I’m not gonna reject the offer—, I’m done with hook ups, I want something more.”
Y/N laughed “Okay, try it, but not with me. I’m sorry, Eth”
The girl stood up and made her way towards the exit of the rink, leaving a disappointed Ethan behind. She would lie if she said she didn’t want to try things with him, but the truth also was that she didn’t trust him when it came to relationships and she didn’t want to get her heart broken by him.
Chad got off the ice to find his best friend sitting on the bleachers, gaze fixed on the stairs, looking like a sad kicked puppy. It’s not a sight seen often, Ethan was usually an over-energetic puppy, always happy and with a smile on his face.
“Hey, man. What’s wrong?”
“Y/N rejected me.” Ethan played with his hockey stick, not wanting to meet his best friend’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen you like this after a rejection” Chad frowned.
“Well, not to brag, but it doesn’t usually happen.” he said, making Chad chuckle. “But it’s different this time. Y/N is not someone I want for one night, or for something casual. I want everything with her.”
“Wow” Chad took a breath, shocked by the confession. “And she said no?”
“She says she doesn’t want to ruin our friendship” Ethan said.
Chad scoffed “Why would that happen?”
“She doesn’t trust me and thinks I’m not boyfriend material. I really am serious about her, Chad. I swear. I would never hurt her. I wish she could read my mind”
“Don’t you dare give up, then. Words aren’t enough, show her you really like her”
“How?”
Chad smirked. “Grab a pen and a napkin, we are going to make a list so you can get the girl.”
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one: get her favourite coffee
ETHAN WOKE UP A BIT EARLIER THE FOLLOWING DAY TO GO TO Y/N’S FAVOURITE COFFEE SHOP AND GET HER ORDER. He convinced Tara to drag Y/N straight to class, not letting her get the coffee, and to text him once they were in the classroom. Once he got the text, Ethan entered the class, all eyes on him, and set the cup in front of Y/N with an adorable grin.
“Good morning. You look gorgeous as always” he kissed her cheek and simply left the room.
Y/N stared at the drink completely astonished, ignoring the glares coming from the female population and the smirk her best friend was giving her. There was something scribbled with black sharpie—it was simple, but it made her stomach combust. Have a great day, beautiful! Love, Ethan. And three hearts poorly made—which she thought was utterly adorable—next to his name.
“You got him in a leash” Tara laughed.
“Don’t be silly, we know what he wants” Y/N brushed it off.
“Come on, Ethan doesn’t do romantic stuff for anyone, not even to get laid.”
“It’s just one coffee, Tara. Let’s not be dramatic.”
But Tara knew, and Y/N too, that the little gesture was a lot when it came to Ethan Landry. Yet, a coffee cup wasn’t enough to gain the girl’s trust.
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two: show her you’re interested in her interests
WHAT IS THE THING Y/N ENJOYED THE MOST? EASY: BOOKS. Ethan knew exactly which one he should start with. In fact, he had bought it the first time Y/N mentioned it. He didn’t know what it was about, but he was sure it was a rom-com that referenced other rom-com movies.
“Ethan!” Chad said in a loud voice, startling his friend. Ethan looked up to find his best friend, Tara and Y/N staring at him. The latter had her mouth wide open.
“What?” he asked absentmindedly. He had been so immersed in the book he hadn’t heard them arrive.
“We called your name countless times, man.” Chad laughed.
“Sorry” Ethan closed the book and looked at Y/N. “Um, I may have a man-crush on Wes Bennett.”
Y/N chuckled, sitting in front of him and ignoring the way her heart was beating rapidly. She wanted to take a picture of Ethan with the book and set it as her lock screen “Welcome to the club.”
“I can’t stand it anymore, I need them to kiss. I need Wes to get the girl” he groaned.
A grin took over her features “Which part are you at?”
“They are going to hang out at Michael’s house” Ethan replied, which made her smile wider. “What’s that smile for? Oh god, what is going to happen?”
“I’m not going to spoil it! Just want to say… buckle up”
“You can’t say that! I can’t continue reading until tomorrow, I have a test!” Ethan panicked.
“Look at you, invested in a rom-com” Chad bumped his shoulder.
“I just wanted to see if it lived up to Y/N’s hype” Ethan said, making her turn into a blushing mess. “It does.”
“You aren’t even finished” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Did you know there’s a sequel coming? And its playlist isn’t very optimistic”
“What?! You just ruined my day. I don’t want to read it anymore” he crossed his arms.
Wanting to mess with him, Tara grabbed the book. “So you wouldn’t mind if I-“ she stopped talking when the boy took the book from her hands.
“Yes, I would mind”
“Wait, are you annotating it?” Y/N said when she saw the colourful post-its.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Anyways, I have to go to class, see you later at practice?”
“See you” Chad said. Before leaving, Ethan kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“What is going on with him?” Y/N asked.
“Showing you he’s serious about you. What are you waiting for, Y/N/N? I thought you liked him” Chad said.
“I do, a lot. But I’m not sure I’m really what he wants. What if he’s just interested because I’m the only girl who has rejected him? What if I finally say yes and then that interest is gone? How am I supposed to recover from that?”
“Y/N…”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to call him mine, Chad. Trust me. But being just another girl on his list would kill me. I don’t want to lose him, okay? I don’t know if I’m willing to risk our friendship.”
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three: woo her with your hockey skills.
WHEN PRACTICE WAS OVER AND CHAD AND ETHAN DIDN’T LEAVE THE RINK, Y/N WAS CONFUSED. The boys skated towards the bleachers Tara and her were sitting in and smirked at them. Chad grabbed a bag from a corner and gave it to them.
“Put the skates on, ladies”
Y/N wanted to laugh when Ethan grabbed her hands and guided her around the ice, but she thought it was so cute that she didn’t have the heart to tell him she knew how to skate perfectly well.
“Okay, I think you’re ready to do it on your own, but go slowly” Ethan said as he finished explaining her how to slide in the ice.
“Losers don’t do it slowly, Landry.” Y/N scoffed.
“You will hurt yourself, Y/N/N. Don’t be stubborn, it’s dangerous.” Ethan sighed.
Y/N smirked “Oh yeah?” she skated flawlessly towards a corner, and came back with a winning smile. She even did a little spin to show off.
“H-how?” he asked breathlessly, frozen in place with a look of shock.
“Took skating classes when I was little” she explained.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was blabbering instructions like a fool”
Y/N shrugged “I couldn’t, you looked so excited”
“You’re evil” he shook his head as he let out the cutest laugh Y/N had ever heard. God, her infuriation was just getting worse with every little action he did. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to contain herself. She needed him to stop.
So her face turned serious “Ethan…”
Ethan fluttered his eyes close and then looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. I know what you’re going to say. Just hear me out. I know that my reputation is horrible, and I get why you don’t trust me. But I have never been more serious about something the way I am about you. I really wish I could erase every hook up, but I can’t and I don’t want my past to define my future. I know it’s hard to believe, but I haven’t been with anyone since I fell for you. I haven’t even thought about anyone else since I fell for you. I want to keep showing you how much I like you.”
Y/N was speechless. He had known Ethan long enough to know he was being serious and completely honest with his words. Maybe she had judged him too much, maybe he had truly changed. And now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him with a girl in ages. Maybe diving into a relationship wasn’t the safest option, but it was worth the try.
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four: get her flowers
DURING HER LUNCH BREAK, Y/N WAS SURPRISED BY THE HOCKEY PLAYER, who on one hand was holding red tulips and on the other one food. Like always, his presence brought attention and whispers, but none of them cared. Something had shifted between them since that afternoon at the rink, and they both could feel it.
“Thank you, Eth” she smiled gratefully. “You know, I had a feeling you would bring me lunch, so instead of bringing mine, I brought yours. I owe you flowers, though.”
“Thanks” he laughed. “Do you like them?”
“They are beautiful” she nodded, her cheeks the same colour as her flowers.
“When you get home, you should look for the meaning of red tulips” he winked.
For the rest of the day, Y/N had been in a haze. Every time Ethan crossed her mind, blush appeared on her cheeks and the corners of her mouth lifted up.
“My god, was I that annoying when Chad and I started talking?” Tara asked when they entered their dorm.
“Yes, you were, T.” Y/N chuckled, remembering her best friend’s love-sick smile every time Chad texted her. “You still are, by the way.”
“Anyways, I love seeing you like this. And I’m glad you’re willing to give Ethan a chance.”
“Me too. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit scared that he’ll get bored of me, but I’m really determined to risk it.”
“He’s not going to get bored of you, Y/N/N. He doesn’t like you because he’s into the whole ‘Only girl who had ever rejected him’ thing. He’s into you because you don’t see him only as a hot hockey player, but you also see how sweet and caring he is. You’re not interested in using him to become popular, you see that he is much more than his popularity. And that is why he likes you.”
“Well, shit. Now I feel bad for rejecting him multiple times.” Y/N slumped to the couch.
Tara laughed “Don’t. It’s understandable why you were cautious with your feelings. He knows that he isn’t a saint. By the way, did you know that Chad and him made this list with things to do to win you over?”
“Really?” Y/N laughed. “That makes sense, he’s being really sweet this week. Well, more than usual, because he’s always super sweet.”
“I found it on their fridge, they are so silly. It’s called ‘Ethan and Chad’s infallible list on how to get the girl’. I took a picture”
Y/N took Tara’s phone and laughed at the list. There were a couple of items crossed out and with a tick, and the one that said ‘Woo her with your hockey skills’ had a little note to the side that said ‘Backfired. My girl is a skating genius, made me look like a fool’, which made her laugh. Then, on the ‘Give her flowers’ there was an explanation note that said ‘My pick: red tulips. Means declaration of love’.
“Fucking hell, he’s so… ugh! I really want to kiss him”
“Lucky for you, that’s item six” Tara said over her shoulder.
“The thought of them brainstorming and writing this down is adorable” Y/N laughed.
“It really is” Tara nodded. “You should wear Ethan’s jersey to the game tomorrow. You don’t know how many times he told us he has dreamt about it.”
Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering. Ethan had shown her how much he liked her, and she thought it was time to show him how much she liked him. “You know? That’s an excellent idea.”
[💖]
five: publicly state you’re only into her.
ETHAN KNEW THE BEST TIME TO EXECUTE ITEM FIVE WOULD BE THE NIGHT OF THE GAME. The ideal scenario would be to get that puck on the net and dedicate it to Y/N, and if he wasn’t that lucky, he would settle with blowing kisses and winks at her. Though when he went out on the ice rink and he caught sight of her, his mind went blank, his body stopped working for a couple of seconds and if it weren’t for Chad steadying him, he would’ve collapsed to the ice.
He quickly skated towards her seat, which was in the first row, right behind the glass. “Beautiful, you can’t just come here in my jersey without any warnings. You want me to have a heart attack?”
A sweet laugh bursted out of her “Sorry. Red tulips are your way of declaring your love, I thought wearing your jersey could be mine.”
Ethan’s breath hitched “Um, I’m about to jump up this glass so that I can kiss you.”
The girl shook her head and laughed “After the game, pretty boy. If you win, you might get an extra reward.”
And hell if those words didn’t encourage Ethan to play his best. The game was brutal, both teams were acing it and the match was about to end in a tie, until Ethan scored the winning goal a few seconds before time was over. The Blackmore bleachers erupted in screams of triumph, and the players united for a group hug.
Tara and Y/N instantly went looking for their boys. The last one scowled as she saw a puck bunny making sexy eyes at Ethan and she clung to his arm. The boy couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable, he pulled his arm away, only for the girl to find another way of touching him.
“You have been acting so hard to get lately. Don’t you think a winner deserves a kiss?” Y/N heard the girl say.
“You’re absolutely right. Now, back away so I can kiss the hell out of him.” Y/N said, throwing daggers at the girl, who looked at her in a mix of surprise and annoyance. “And can’t you get a hint? He’s uncomfortable.”
Ethan gaped at her. She had never looked so hot—standing there with his number on the back of the jersey that fitted her like a dress, knee-length boots that weirdly turned him on, and with a scowl on her face as she got all territorial on him.
“And who are you?” the puck bunny scanned her up and down with a frown.
“His girlfriend. Now, can you leave? I have to congratulate my man” she said harshly. As soon as she said that, Ethan was sure he was about to drop onto his knees and let her do whatever she wanted to him.
“Girlfriend?” Ethan smirked as the puck bunny left. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good” Y/N smirked back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Now, are you ready to cross out items five and six? You know, one bird two stones.”
“Hell yes”
Their lips moved hungrily, and the kiss was way too heated and inappropriate considering their surroundings. But they couldn’t stop it, their desire was diesel and they had been playing with fire for months.
“I promised you a reward if you won, right?” Y/N said against his lips.
“Isn’t this the reward? This is more than I could’ve asked for. You, finally being my girlfriend and kissing me while wearing my jersey.” his eyes were dark and lips swollen. His beauty was out of this world.
“You scored the winning goal, babe. You deserve a special reward” she licked her lips. “Let’s go to your car.”
He nodded eagerly, and as they reached the car, he dared to ask “What do you have in mind?”
She opened the back door. “One kiss isn’t enough. How much time do you have until you have to go to the bar with the guys?”
“What guys? What bar? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he acted clueless and she let out a giggle. “In fifteen, but they’ll survive if I arrive a bit late. I want to be with my girl for a while.”
“Okay, then get in the car so we can make out.” Y/N bursted out laughing as Ethan carelessly threw himself on the backseat of his car. “You need to learn about the art of subtlety, Eth.”
“Oh that’s rich coming from the girl who attacked me in the middle of the arena.” he said grabbing her waist to guide her to his lap.
“Attack you? That’s not what I did” she scoffed.
“Yes you did. You attacked me with a kiss and then you led me to my car to corrupt me” Ethan said in a fake innocent tone.
“Corrupting the former man-whore?” Y/N arched an eyebrow.
Ethan’s eyes darkened “You’re right. Maybe I am the one corrupting you. I mean, you couldn’t even wait for us to get home to attack me again?”
“You’re insufferable. You’re so lucky you’re hot.”
“I am hot?”
Y/N nodded, looking at him. His muscled arms were spread on the top of the seats, grin plastered on his face and cheeks still rosy from the cold temperature of the arena.
“The hottest. And the best thing? That you’re mine.”
“Just yours, love.” he smiled sweetly, resting his forehead on hers.
“That list of yours is pretty… infallible, right?” Y/N joked.
“I can’t believe you know about the list” Ethan hid his face on her neck.
“You sticked it on the fridge and Tara took a picture” Y/N replied.
“Fucking Chad” Ethan groaned. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, it worked, right? You got the girl.”
“Yes, I did” he smiled hugging her tightly. “Should I do one on how to keep the girl?”
Y/N laughed “I don’t think you need that. Rumour has it, she’s totally in love with you.”
“Oh yeah? Lucky me, because I’m totally in love with her too.”
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adrienneleclerc · 7 days
Note
Heyy can you write a onsehot of charles being really really really clingy to the reader ,like wanting cuddels kisses
YES!!!!! I don’t think I ever wrote Charles in a clingy way so it’ll be fun to try!
Attached at The Hip
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina reader
Summary: Charles has a break between races and decides to spend it with his girlfriend. However, his girlfriend is not paying attention to him.
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: sorry it’s been a while since I have posted anything, I went to California as my graduation gift. Thank you for your request! I am so happy you like my writing enough to request a oneshot! If I haven’t gotten to your request yet, I AM WORKING ON IT, te lo juro por las haditas.
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Charles had a 3 week break between races and what better way to spend this break than with his lovely girlfriend? When Charles came back Tuesday afternoon, he cuddled with his girlfriend, they watched a movie together, he gave her many kisses because he missed her so much. However, Wednesday morning Charles woke up without Y/N by his side and with the smell of baked goods. Charles walked into the kitchen and saw Y/N with her cupcake apron, frosting one batch of cupcakes, pulling another batch out of the oven, and putting another batch in the oven.
“Mon ange, it’s 7 am, what are you doing baking?” Charles asked.
“I received an order for cupcakes, muñeco. It’s a birthday party so I’m making cupcakes for the children and for the adults. I made margarita cupcakes for the adults and s’mores cupcakes for the children. I obviously wanted the cupcakes to be fresh, the party starts at 1, that also gives me time to deliver these.” Y/N said, showing Charles the tray of macarons that were made yesterday before he came over. “I spent the entire morning frosting them. If you can take the cupcakes out of the oven when the timer rings, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“I thought we were going to spend the day together.” Charles pouted, getting closer to hug Y/N but she walked away from his hug.
“Muñeco, i would love to cuddle you, but I have to deliver these to the café before they open.” Y/N packed the macarons in boxes very carefully and left the apartment, leaving a very sad Charles. When the timer dinged, he took out the cupcakes using Y/N’s oven mitts and placed them on top of the stove, turning off the oven. Y/N got back with bags of groceries for her apartment and her business.
“Ma Belle, are you still going to bake?” Charles asked.
“Charles, i supply macarons everyday for a café plus personal orders. I’m a busy girl, muñeco.” Y/N responded, Charles hugged her from behind.
“Can’t you take a break, please.” Charles whispered in her ear, kissing her neck as well.
“Muñeco…” Y/N whines
“I haven’t gotten any attention today.” Charles whined
“Let me frost the cupcakes and I’ll give you all the attention you want. Until 12 that is, then I’ll have to deliver these cupcakes.” Y/N said.
“I’ll take it.” Charles pulled away from Y/N, kissing her and letting her do a baker’s job. As soon as she finished frosting the cupcakes, she laid down with Charles and he was very happy with her in his arms. They watched the Spanish TV show “Ni Una Más” with English subtitles for Charles when Y/N’s phone rings, it was the mom who was throwing the birthday party.
“Hello, yes the cupcakes are ready, I’ll be over there in a few. S’mores cupcakes for the kids and margarita cupcakes for you guys, alright, bye.” Y/N hung up the phone. “Muñeco, I gotta go.” Y/N tried to get up but Charles held her tighter.
“No, please stay.” Charles begged against her neck.
“Muñeco, this is how I make my rent, I have to drop off the cupcakes.” Y/N said, getting up successfully and putting the cupcakes in their respective containers. Charles got up as well.
“At least let me drive you.” Charles said.
“Nope, you’re staying here like a good boy, okay.” Y/N said, opening the apartment door with cupcake boxes in hand. “Stay…good boy.” Y/N left the apartment, leaving Charles again.
After Y/N was paid 200 euros for the cupcakes since they are flavors that not everyone else makes, she went back to her apartment and found Charles on the couch.
“Finally, you’re home! Let’s spend some time together, yes? We should go out on the yacht.” Charles said, “or we could stay in bed,” Charles hugged Y/N from behind.
“You’re so clingy. But you’re adorable, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles silently cheers and grabs Y/N’s hand to lead her into her bedroom so they could watch TV and rot in bed together.
The End
I hope you like it, I don’t know how to write “clingy” because I have a fearful avoidant attachment style so I don’t know what “clingy” typically looks like but I hope it’s acceptable
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floatyflowers · 4 months
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Platonic Dark! Prince x Child Reader
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𝕿he people saw him as a monster because of the fact that he has pale skin and white hair. He also can't see well due to his purple irises.
But no one dared to call him a 'monster', but instead, he was nicknamed 'the strange'.
Prince Gwyn doesn't like to indulge himself in balls, even though he is the crown prince.
Instead, he likes to stay in his chamber all day, avoiding the eyes of many onlookers.
Gwyn loves to read many books; he finds comfort in learning, especially if they are books about mysticism.
One day, the twenty-year-old prince was sitting on his windowsill reading a book.
The weather is not sunny, which is perfect for him to also enjoy the sight of the outside world for a while.
Yet, the sight of the servants caught his eyes.
Down in the garden, two female servants are placing the clothes on the drying line.
What caught his attention is the small child running around the garden joyfully.
This small child is you, a servant's daughter probably.
You suddenly stop and look up at him.
Gwyn expected to see you scream and run away upon seeing his appearance, but instead, you smiled and waved at him.
He wanted to wave back at you, but you runaway to go and speak with your mother.
A child? This is the first time he sees a child in his life.
He continued to observe you from his window as you played outside, and he was intrigued by your innocence and joy.
Gwyn couldn't help but smile to himself, feeling a sense of warmth and connection to the child despite you being a stranger.
The prince wants you to be his platonic companion.
°°°
Gwyn had never felt this way towards anyone before. It was a new and unfamiliar feeling, but he found himself wanting more.
Maybe if he clears up his mind, he can forget about you.
He put down his book and decided to take a walk around the palace grounds after midnight, like he usually does when everyone sleeps.
Except for the guards who are always on the watch.
While walking through the castle, he finds a small figure sneaking around.
So, the prince decides to follow the figure, believing that it is you.
Gwyn cautiously approached the small figure, careful not to frighten them. As he got closer, he saw that it was indeed you.
You went to the kitchen and he followed inside after you, noticing that you were eating food.
He sighed in relief, realizing that you were the only person in the castle who didn't seem afraid of him.
"So, it's you," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I take it you don't follow the rules?"
You looked at him in surprise, your eyes wide with curiosity. "What rules?" you asked.
Gwyn chuckled, amused by your innocence. "The rules that say we can't be out after midnight," he explained. "But I see that doesn't bother you."
You giggled, your small hands covering your mouth.
"No, it doesn't," you said.
"I come out here all the time to eat."
Gwyn nodded, acknowledging the fact that you probably didn't have much to eat during the day.
It made sense; you were a servant's child, after all.
He took a step closer to you, noticing that you were quite short in height.
"What's your name, child?" he asked softly, his eyes fixed on you.
You hesitated for a moment before answering, your mind trying to process the situation.
"My name is (Y/n), Sir Angel" you replied cheerfully.
"Sir Angel?"
Gwyn inquires, surprised at your nickname for him.
"Yes, because you are beautiful like an angel"
Your words was enough to make him finally burst into tears.
People always saw him as a cursed monster, but here you, a child, calling him an 'Angel'
"That's such a sweet thing to say," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'm not an angel. I'm what they call a 'monster.'"
He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his words, as gets down on his knees.
Gwyn paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of sadness and hope in his eyes.
"But you, you accept me for who I am. You don't care about my appearance or my curse. You just see me as a person."
He smiled warmly at you, grateful for your kindness and understanding.
You pat his head, curious to touch his hair, your fingers touching his strands.
Gwyn thought you were comforting him, but in reality, you just liked his hair color.
"Would you like to be my companion?"
Your eyes brighten up in happiness.
"Does that mean mommy can come too"
Gwyn's mood sours at the mention of your mother, and smiles bitterly about someone sharing you with him.
"Yes...she can"
°°°
The prince murdered your mother in cold blood right in front of your eyes, and hid the evidence in the same garden you used to play in when you were younger.
Now, at fifteen, you stand, in front of your mother's grave weeping.
Weeping for the fact that you are now a prisoner, with no way out of this castle.
The prince did indeed look angelic on the outside.
But, he truly was a monster all along.
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hawkinsbnbg · 2 months
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Steve was a ghost who haunted his best friend.
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
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"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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bia-wayne-west · 4 months
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Damian is going to have a little sister [Damian Wayne x Pregnant! Batmom]
Summary: You take a pregnancy test and find out you are pregnant. You will have a little girl. Bruce, Alfred and their other three children are happy, except Demian. Your fourth baby is jealous of the new member of the family.
Personagens: Bruce Wayne [Batman], Damian Wayne [Robin], Dick Grayson [Nightwing], Jason Todd [Red hood], Tim Drake [Red Robin] and Reader [You]
Word count: 1,366
Warnings: jealousy, fear of abandonment and pregnancy.
A / N: Hi. I planned this fanfiction months ago, but I only had time to write today. I always imagined what it would be like if Batmom got pregnant. Demian would probably be jealous and wouldn't admit it. So, I decided to write about it.
I hope you like the imagine
Remember that I am a Brazilian girl. I am not fluent in English and I am still learning. I apologize if I have any errors. Feel free to correct me.
Go and read my other stories on my MASTERLIST.
REQUEST ARE OPEN. Do not be shy. Ask as many imagines as you want.
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The test in your hands had two blue lines and your face had a huge smile. You had some suspicions, but you never imagined that after eight years of marriage, you would have a baby in your womb.
You thought you must be sterile because you had never been pregnant before, and even though the doctors said you were healthy, you didn't believe them. The test in your hand was proof that you were going to have five babies now.
You left the bathroom, putting the test in your pants pocket. The first person you saw when you left the master suite was Alfred. He will just come out of one of the guest rooms.
You ran to the butler you considered your second father. Alfred looked at you, thinking you were going to ask for something.
“Alfred, I'm pregnant!” You said it quickly, not having the courage to repeat it. The old man in front of you looked at you with wide eyes. After five seconds, he smiled at you.
It was difficult to make Alfred smile. He always maintained his serious appearance.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne. It’s great news.” Alfred said.
You showed the butler the pregnancy test. He congratulated her again and left, with the excuse that he had to clean Timothy's room. You could see a big smile on Alfred's face as he walked down the stairs to the second floor.
You remembered that Bruce was on the Wayne Enterprise, running some errands and that he wouldn't be back until after 8pm. Dick and Jason went to Wally West's house to play basketball. Timothy was at school.
Demian was the only one at home. He was probably in his room or in the garden with Titus.
You walked to the room that had the 'Do Not Enter' sign. You knocked on the door a few times, hearing your son's voice telling you that you could come in.
“Hi, my love.” You said to Damian, who was playing videogame. He was sitting on the bed. The boy smiled at you.
"Hi mommy. Did something happen?" He questioned, his eyes anxious.
You sat on the bed too, watching your son continue to play his game, but he was paying attention to you. .
“I have something new to tell you. I found out today, so only you and Alfred know about it.” You said, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test to show Damian.
The boy looked at the object curiously, until he realized what it really was. He looked at you in amazement, as if he thought it was just a joke.
"You are pregnant?" He questioned.
"Yes." After you nodded, you saw him give you a sad smile.
“I think this is amazing news, Mom,” Damian said. He no longer looked you in the eye, focusing his attention on the television while he played.
"Are you okay, darling?" You questioned, moving closer to Damian.
The boy just nodded, and didn't look at you anymore. Then, you realized that he didn't like the news, and preferred to leave him alone. You knew Damian didn't like expressing his feelings.
"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen" You said, leaving your son's room and walking down the hallway.
As soon as Bruce arrived and you told him you were pregnant, he had the best reaction possible. Your husband was extremely happy and excited. And Dick, Jason and Tim also loved having a new little brother.
The weeks passed very quickly, and soon became months, and suddenly, you were seven months pregnant. You had already done all the ultrasounds and discovered that you were having your first daughter. You were excited to have a little princess, and Jason and Dick started teasing Bruce about how he really was a girl's daddy.
Everyone in your family seemed to be happy, except Damian. He never said out loud that he hated the baby, but you could see that he stopped wanting to spend time with you. The boy spent more time in his room or in the Batcave, avoiding being close to you. Bruce said the boy would accept that he would have a sister after the baby was born, but you knew you had to have a talk with Damian.
You walked slowly down to the clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. It was difficult to walk with swollen feet. You knew that Bruce was on patrol, but that he left Damian on the Batcomputer. As soon as you got out of the elevator, you saw your son look at you, but quickly turn away. You walked over to Damian, giving him a gentle smile. The boy didn't look at you again.
"Hello, my dear." You said.
He didn't answer you, and started pretending to type on the keyboard.
"I wanted to talk to you a little."
Damian just grumbled.
"I know you're sad about my pregnancy." You said. "But you know that in two months there will be a baby here."
He continued ignoring you.
"If it's because of your father, you know Bruce loves all his children equally." You commented. "And that no baby in this world will make your father love you less."
Damian finally turned around, looking at you. He had red eyes, looking like he was going to cry.
"It's not about my father." He said. "Is you!" He exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" You asked.
"You know!" He roared. "You were the first person who liked me, even though you knew I was Bruce's biological son and that I was conceived when he was drugged by Talia." Damian continued speaking. "And now, you will have your own daughter. Who has your blood and Bruce's"
You looked at him, surprised.
"Are you afraid I'm going to leave you aside?" You wanted to know.
"My brothers don't seem to see what's going to happen. That you and Bruce are going to love the baby more than we do." He started to cry. "I love you and my dad, and I know that now you will have your own family."
You said, walking over to your son. You held him by the shoulders, making him face you.
"Damian, that will never happen!" You exclaimed. "You, Dick, Jason and Tim never stopped being my kids, my little birds."
He looked away, looking embarrassed.
"I thought you wouldn't treat me like your son anymore" He said.
"It's normal for you to be jealous and afraid of losing all the attention you receive, but I want you to know that our relationship will never change." You commented. "Now that the problem has been resolved, do you want to go upstairs so we can make some cupcakes together?"
Damian quickly got up from the chair he was in, and threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. He placed his head on your chest, and surprisingly, you felt him caressing your belly for the first time. You lowered your head to look at your son, smiling at him.
"Yes, I want to go make cupcakes, Mommy." He said, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his tear-stained face.
You and Damian went up to the house, leaving the Batcave. He started talking to you again, saying that he had had a brief fight with Jon Kent, but that they had already made up. He also told you that he was doing a literature project for school in a group, and that it was very easy.
As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, you grabbed all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and started mixing the cupcake batter, while Damian mixed the frosting. He told you that he wanted to color the cupcakes green and red, so you grabbed the food coloring from the pantry, letting him make the frosting any color he wanted.
Once the more than twenty cupcakes were ready, you and Damian sat on the counter while eating, talking excitedly about how the last few months had been when Damian had avoided you.
"Mother?" He caught your attention. "It'll be good to be a big brother."
You gave him a huge smile, and then kissed your son's cheek.
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emphistic · 24 days
Text
Interlude
A/N: did i write this in half an hour? yes. am i crazy? of course.
"Ah ah ah. I never said you could leave yet."
You immediately stopped in your tracks upon hearing a familiar deep, raspy voice at your back, coming from the confines of your shared bed.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
You whipped your head around, and were met with a set of half-lidded eyes in a shade of deep red. Their owner was propped up on one elbow atop the messy sheets, yawning loudly before running his long fingers through his unruly locks.
Sukuna was never a morning person, and his shifts always started later in the afternoon, so he always used it to his advantage.
Blinking once, twice, thrice, as you nervously averted your gaze away from your very enticing boyfriend, who only continued to stare at you sleepily.
The thought of going back to lay in your comfortable, warm bed was already something you wanted to do terribly, but adding Sukuna into the mix, too? This was like trying to drain the sea.
Merely one look at the pink-haired man, who was only covered waist-down by the blankets on his legs, was enough to pull you back beneath the covers and curl into his side.
However, you had already called sick two times in only a fortnight, and those bills were not going to pay themselves.
Unfortunately for you, or not unfortunately, you and Sukuna had been over this many times. Sukuna always told you, "I don't understand why you keep going back to that shitty job anyway. Just let me take care of you back in my place, I provide substantially for the both of us, anyway."
And besides, there really wasn't a way out for you no matter what.
Sukuna had had so many clients back-to-back lately, that he was forced to stay at the tattoo shop for nights on end. On top of that, Choso was unavailable for God knows why, so Sukuna had to fill in for him as well. And if that wasn't enough, sessions would take longer than expected because clients just wouldn't stop flirting with him, moving or twitching, accidentally messing up his work, talking so obnoxiously to the point Sukuna couldn't even pay attention, etc.
Only recently — just the night before, he was finally granted the chance to come home to you.
And you best believe he was going to spend every hour, minute, and second reminding you that you were his, and his only.
Not even your job's employee, apparently. Sorry not sorry.
But, it's not like you wanted to leave him anyway. You had missed Sukuna as much as he had missed you, if not more.
Phone calls while he was on break, sending memes through your text messages, playing together on Game Pigeon, FaceTimes while eating lunch together, were your only escapes from the sad, miserable Adult Life, into just Sukuna and You World.
"Baby, you know I have to. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? And besides, you need the free time. They've been working you nonstop—"
"I'm fine, not even tired. Don't you dare worry your pretty little head about me. As for free time . . ," Sukuna's held a mischievous glint to them, "how about you spend my free time with me?"
You bit your lip, in contemplation. Although you knew, clear as day, what would happen in the end despite everything.
Deciding to make a run for it, you swung your legs over the bed and planted your bare feet on the freezing-cold floor of your apartment. But before you could even stand up, a thick arm swiftly made its way around your waist and pulled you back to meet a hard, bare chest.
Sukuna was now sitting up.
You lightly gasped, as he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.
"Don't think you can run away from me just yet, doll. I haven't seen you in days, and I'm not going to be apart from you for another second."
You squirmed in his grasp, but when you realized his strong hold around your middle wasn't going to let up any time soon, you sighed, and, left with no choice, only slumped back against his chest.
Sukuna grinned, victorious, once again.
The rays of the early sun filtered through the cheap window blinds, and you fluttered your eyelashes, squinting to hide away from the inevitable.
"Yeahh," Sukuna laughed, "that's right, princess. Just listen to me from now on."
You frowned, turning your head around to narrow your eyes at Sukuna.
"Now, what can we do with all this free time? I'm thinking we should try something new." Sukuna raised a brow teasingly, twisting your body around and settling you onto his lap with your thighs on either side of his.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister. I'm only staying for five more minutes," you crossed your arms.
Sukuna placed both of his large hands on your hips; it seemed like that was their default resting spot. Every chance he got, they would always end up there. No matter the setting or occasion.
Sukuna let out a deep laugh, "We'll see about that."
-
"Five minutes? You said? Either way, I don't think you're even able to move your legs at this point and walk out of this room."
"S'kuna, you're—ngh—not funny!" Your nipples hardened, and rubbed raw against the material of your shirt.
You braced yourself by placing both hands on the headboard, but it didn't look like anything could help stable you now.
Sukuna licked a stripe up your dampening clit.
Your situation wasn't looking too good. It didn't help that your asshole of a boss just had to call you right then and there.
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mischieveousmayhem · 2 months
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hiiii!!🩷 how are you?
I saw that you would like some requests in the #batmom so I have a fic idea
The idea is about each one of the batboys says to Batmom "your not my real mother" like angst/fluff and how would the bat mom react to it and handle it
Not my mother.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Batmom
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: None (?), idk english that well 💀
Synopsis: He loves you , or maybe not?
"Jason, this is crazy. How do you have all F's 3 weeks into the semester?"
A disappointed Batmom stood in front of 13(?) year old Jason Todd. She had a frown drawn on her face. Jason looked down, sad that he is disappointing you and angry at himself.
"Do you not do your homework when I tell you to?" She asks a little more assertive while reading all the negative comments the teachers had left.
"I don't know." He responded quietly.
"How do you NOT know?" She was getting heated and it was clear in her tone. "All I want for you is to do your best and you don't even listen to me."
"I do listen to you." He speaks louder, aggressiveness in his tone.
"Jason Peter Todd, do not get an attitude with me because you have consequences to your actions. Now what is going on with you sleeping in class and not paying attention?" Your hands were now on your hips.
"Why do you even care?" You using his middle name made him mad.
"I am trying my best to make sure my son is set up to do good in life." Your hands now on your hips, "Until these grades are fixed, you are to not go on patrol because that is probably the root of these issues."
Jason was at this point angry. You were scolding him like a little kid, on top of that what's Batman without his Robin.
You we're about to walk away but then,
"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOTHER, YOU PHONY, I CAN DO WHAT I WANT."
You stopped dead in your tracks. How do you respond to that? You just want what's best for your sweetest Jason.
You turned back to face him, his face was red probably from anger. You were pale, trying to process what your son had said.
"You know what..." You trailed off, "I'll just let your father handle this." You sat down the paper before walking off leaving Jason alone.
Which after he picks up the paper and looks at it.
Oh dear. What has he done?
It's obvious you were actually just caring for him. He was processing everything himself. He just got so angry, angry because he was sad that you were disappointed.
In your bedroom shared with your loving husband, you cried endlessly.
Have you failed as a mother? You just want your son to do his best. You didn't understand why he would say that. Maybe you just came off in the wrong way and it triggered him to go off on you.
Just as you were lost in your thoughts Bruce walked in.
"I was looking—" He stopped when he saw you crying and rushed to your side.
Dearest Bruce Wayne only had a soft spot for his wife and kids.
His arm wrapped around you tightly as your cried into his shoulder.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Well Jason brought home bad g—" You stopped for a minute to gasp in between sobs, "Home bad grades and then I was scolding him but I didn't mean to come off wrong and I told him not patrol and then he said.."
"He said what?"
"He said I'm not his real mom!" You exclaimed then cried harder. "I know it's true but I love him so much and it still hurts."
"Y/N, darling." He grabs your chin with his fingers so you're looking his eyes. "You know he probably didn't mean it. He is probably still adjusting to us too. It still won't slide though, I'll talk to him, ok?"
You nod as he pecks your cheek.
You were knocked out cold. You probably fell asleep while crying. But your awaken when you feel a smaller body climb in the bed next to you in the bed.
You wanted to smile but you were still half asleep and upset. You roll over to face the figure.
"Hey Y/N." The voice spoke.
"Hi Jay." You responded softly, the tone of sadness in your voice even though you tried to cover it up. However, Jason Todd knew that his mother was upset and he frowned.
You two faced each other while laying there in silence. This lasted for about two minutes before he broke the silence.
"I'm sorry I said what I did."
"I know. It's ok."
"Then why are you do sad?" He questioned.
"Words hurt sometimes Jay and I know you didn't mean it but it still felt like a dagger to my heart."
He frowned even more. He hurt you. The woman who is his mother figure and cares so much for him.
"But I will always forgive you my little one. I'm sorry for being a bad mother." You apologized.
"You're not a bad mother, you're a perfect mother. I'm just a kid who didn't understand you were doing your job until after." He said.
"Jay, I just want you to do good, and always follow your dreams."
"I will mom, I promise." When he said mom you smiled.
He scooted closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.
This was a mothers love, that is what made you his mom.
"I love you mom."
"I love you most, Jason."
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talesofesther · 8 months
Text
make it taste like love
Loki x Reader
Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3
Word count: 6k
Masterlist
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The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.
Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.
A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.
King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.
─── ·❆· ───
This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.
You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.
"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.
"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.
With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."
"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.
"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."
"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.
Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"
You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.
Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.
No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.
Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.
You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.
See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.
But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.
And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?
You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.
You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.
Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.
There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.
Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.
You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.
─── ·❆· ───
The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.
It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.
In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.
You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.
Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.
But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.
The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.
It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.
"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"
Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?
His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."
You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."
The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.
The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.
"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.
"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."
Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.
Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"
You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."
Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.
"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.
You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.
When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.
─── ·❆· ───
You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.
Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.
When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.
So far, it hasn't happened yet.
The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.
And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.
With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.
The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.
Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.
You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.
It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.
Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."
"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"
"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.
Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."
You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"
For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.
Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."
You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."
There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.
"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"
The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.
─── ·❆· ───
After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.
"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.
"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.
"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.
Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.
Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"
You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.
"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.
As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.
Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.
You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.
Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.
You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.
"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.
"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.
"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.
Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.
It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.
Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.
─── ·❆· ───
The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.
You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.
The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.
"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.
"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.
You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.
Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.
You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.
You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.
You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.
Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.
The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.
"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.
He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.
You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."
A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."
"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.
Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"
He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?
"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."
Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.
It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.
"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."
The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.
"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."
Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.
"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.
"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."
There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.
Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."
You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.
He melted into you.
Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.
The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.
You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.
His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"
You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."
Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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