hi do you think you could do art donaldson for 'let me down easy' please? (◔ᴗ◔)
ミ★ let me down easy ★彡
summary: after months of pain and failed efforts between art and you, everything comes crashing down when he returns from his latest press tour (this is a part of a series of fics inspired by the album aurora from daisy jones and the six.)
pairing: art donaldson x f reader
word count: 2k
warnings: there is no happiness, only angst :)
ao3 link series masterlist previous work playlist
Things had been different between you and Art ever since the two of you had graduated from Stanford. Which didn’t feel right simply because of how close you both had gotten in such a short period of your lives. That kind of relationship doesn’t feel like it’s ever supposed to unravel.
Issues had started to arise after he had begun to pursue tennis further, meanwhile you were stuck at a crossroads on where exactly to go. You didn’t want to just follow him around like a lost puppy for the rest of your days. But outside of the internship you had lined up right out of college you hadn’t thought much on where you intended to go. So while he was always in and out of your shared apartment, you ended up stuck always waiting for him to return.
You knew he was destined for greater things. But you thought that you would be included in that vision. Instead of being left behind. When you had planned your lives it was always supposed to be together. You were going to become a successful journalist, and he would be one of the best tennis players to ever do it. But since your dreams had been stalling as of late, you didn’t expect for him to just wait for you to catch up.
No, he had kept going. And kept fighting his way towards the top. And you were left behind in his shadow. Which was funny to think about because that’s exactly what Tashi had told you would happen all those years ago.
That had quickly caused tension that had yet to ease between the two of you. It didn’t seem like it intended to stop either. So you just sat in your despair that you would amalgamate to nothing compared to your partner. It wasn’t jealousy. It was longing. To be a part of this next chapter in his life, and not off to the side. Happy and ready for him to return to you.
But as weeks and months passed it became clearer and clearer to you that there was no escaping this fate. The spark was dimming, and it felt like you couldn’t even begin to put up a fight for it to keep burning.
-
“When do you think you’ll be back?”
Art had already been gone on his press tour for what felt like forever. Taking interviews all across the country to celebrate his most recent win at Wimbledon. Of course you were incredibly happy for him, but still you yearned to be by his side again.
Art paused on the other end of the line. It was times like these where you wished you could read him better. It hurt not knowing exactly where his head was at.
“Uh, could be a while. Two weeks, maybe.”
You frowned, sinking further into the couch that sat in your lonely living room. “Two weeks? Art–” He had been gone for so long. And now you would have to wait even longer. It made you sick to the stomach.
“Yeah… I know it’s not ideal for us.”
“I mean that is— one way to put it.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound the part. And in the background you could hear someone you couldn’t even begin to name yelling at him to wrap it up. It made you think of how excluded you were from his life at this point. The two of you had barely been talking for five minutes. And already he would have to leave you.
“Uh-huh.” You felt like throwing your phone halfway across the room and screaming into the nearest pillow.
“Look, I really am sorry. I hate doing these interviews.” Whenever you got the chance to catch them on TV it didn’t feel like that. Sometimes he looked happier, then he had been with you for months. You wished he would smile that much when he saw you.
You reserved not to fight his comment though. And just went along with what he was telling you.“It’s fine, Art. I’m used to it at this point.”
“I have to go now.”
“Can we at least talk more later tonight?” There was a kind of desperate plea behind your voice.
And then there was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. “I would, but I’m getting dinner with an old friend.”
Your mind immediately went to the worst. Tashi. It was a gut feeling. One you couldn’t even begin to explain or express out loud. But you refused to believe that could be true. She’d caught off contact, right before you and Art had officially started dating. Which was unintentionally your fault.
“I’ll call you when I can though. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
And then he hung up on you. No final ‘I love you’ or ‘good night.’ Just the click of his phone cutting out. You wanted to cry, scream, and throw a fit. But it wasn’t worth it. You had been dealing with this for the past month, and now it felt like he was already moving on. While you two were still together. Lining up his options in preparation for the imminent end.
And he wasn’t even trying to hide it from you anymore. The beginning of the end had already been accepted.
-
When Art finally did come back home after his nearly two month long victory lap, he barely spoke with you. That first night he crawled into your shared bed and wrapped his arms around you. And the only thought you had was how forced it felt. Between the both of you. There was no meaning anymore. You were holding each other just so you could be holding someone. It wouldn’t change the way it felt if it was some stranger you found on the side of the road laying next to you.
This level of distance would’ve never seemed real to you, not even a year ago. But you were so checked out of this relationship. And so was he. It didn’t seem to matter who the warmth at the end of the night came from.
The second night didn't seem like it was going to be much different. But then, Art seemed much more introspective. Like he was ready to unleash a secret he had kept buried in his chest.
He froze in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched you prepare to sleep. “Why didn’t you just come with me?”
“Is that what this is about?” The distance. The silence. The lack of emotions.
“Somewhat.” Art was waiting for your response before attempting to continue.
“If I had come with you would that really have fixed anything.”
“We could’ve at least tried.”
“No, Art. You know that’s not true,” A thousand more unspoken words ran through your head. Ways to phrase things and truly express how you had been feeling. But that required more effort than you were capable of giving anymore. A fog had begun to cloud your mind, making it impossible to speak any of your racing thoughts out loud.
“I don’t think I love you anymore. I don’t think I have for a while. And I think you’ve known this too for a while. Two weeks ago I had dinner with Tashi. It was nice, we caught up with each other. Then we went back to my hotel room and– ” There was the admission you had been waiting to hear. But instead of anger or disappointment the only thing you felt was a bitter acceptance.
“I get the point. But what exactly do you want me to say to that?”
“I want you to just listen. Look, I'm trying to be honest with you right now. I’m done with fucking lying about how I feel.” he moved closer to you, kneeling in front of where you were sitting on the bed. He reached up and tried placing a hand onto your cheek. It was an act meant to pull you in closer and reassure you. But it only twisted the knife he had dug into your heart even further.
You moved backwards, leaning away from him. “Stop it. This is pointless and mean.”
“This is only hurting the both of us. I’m finally trying to get us to actually talk about this. Because it’s been actively killing me inside and out for a while now. And it doesn’t feel like you care at all.”
It was true. You didn’t. The words he spoke weren’t even registering to you anymore. But you still managed to get the point. Art wanted to move on, he had gotten sick of you. Just like Tashi said he would. She could never be wrong. No matter what. Maybe that’s why he had slept with her.
“Just tell me you hate me. Tell me you want to break up. Slap me across the face. Just do something. Anything”
“I think it would be best if you left now.” It hurt to say it out loud. But it was true.
Looking at him, he looked tired. His heart wasn’t even in it now. He couldn’t even give you the courtesy of pretending to care, as he practically blew up your life. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” it was taking everything in you to look away. And not meet his sad puppylike gaze.
Art silently got up and moved towards the door. “You know I thought you would try and fight it. I thought some part of you would fight to keep this. We meant something, even if we haven’t in a while.”
Bullshit.
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“I did love you.” That was the telling word. Did. Past tense. Like he hadn’t loved you in months. And he had been dragging this out for as long as he could. To spare your feelings. Like you would break the second he left you. And that’s what hurt the most. He didn’t have to admit it out loud. But he chose to get one last dig at you in before leaving.
“Just go already. Leave. Do what you’re good at” Somehow there was no anger in your voice when you spoke. Only withdrawal. The emotion would come back to you once he actually got himself out the door. It’s not even like you were pretending to be strong, to get this over with. You didn’t even know if you cared anymore.
Art looked as though he had more he had to say. More that had been weighing on his mind. Words that threatened to escape. But his silence spoke numbers. Much more than anything he could’ve ever actually mustered up the courage to say.
So he left without another word. Silently packing up what little of his stuff remained in your once shared apartment. Fulfilling your one and only wish.
And that was it.
A two-year long relationship ended in less than a half-hour. Without much of a fight, and done in the blink of an eye.
When he finally managed to get out the door, your facade broke. And you cried for what felt like hours, alone in your room. You wanted him back. You wanted to apologize for not fighting it. You wanted him to apologize for having sex with Tashi. You wanted things to go back to the way they had been at Stanford. When you still had the whole in front of you, and life in your eyes. When you felt immediate joy hearing his voice, and love in his presence.
But it would never be like that again. You doubted you would ever even see him again. Because God knows you’d never volunteer yourself up for a tennis match. So you would just have to accept that it was over. And a love once so special to you was gone.
You thought it would be easy to end things. And you thought it wouldn’t hurt this much. But losing love hurts. So as the tears kept flooding from your eyes, you accepted your fate. And you accepted that that was it.
author's note: whats up guys :p i have been gone quite a while. so what better way to make my comeback then with an ancient ask. my apologies to anon. i don't know if i'm gonna continue with the series this request was from if i'm being honest. but i felt a little inspired so. what are you gonna do about it. make sure to like, reblog, comment, follow, etc. it would be appreciated. :)
i feel like making my comeback. lowkey been focusing on irl stuff recently and havent written since august. but im having withdrawals so we will perhaps see. im kinda feeling like writing for rodrick cause of the punkplastic edits. even though i swore i would never write for him again. but who knows.
drop any requests if yall have any. i feel like getting inspired.
here are some rodrick heffley stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
ᝰ.ᐟ key: A- angst I F- fluff I S- smut I C- comfort I ~S- implied smut
☆ loser!bf rodrick I @fear-is-truth I F + ~S
☆ cool girlfriend I @/fear-is-truth I F
☆ whimper audiotape I @/fear-is-truth I ~S
☆ loser!rodrick I @lustagel I F + ~S
☆ perv!loser!virgin!rodrick I @/lustagel I S
☆ bf!rodrick I @draculiette I F
rodrick heffley and his plastic girlfriend
☆ popular girl meets chaotic punk boy I @multi-fandom-imagine I F
☆ social suicide I @vxlelove I F
☆ jealousy, jealousy I @/vxlelove I F
☆ the loser who won your heart I @celestiamour I F
he’s nothing to you, just a little errand boy who will do anything you ask with a bat of your eyes, so why are you starting to feel more?
☆ serving the heffleys I @fallingforfred I F
☆ maybe it was just because you guys were best friends I @/fallingforfred I F
you're rodrick's best friend and you came to see greg's play--in which rodrick embarrasses him by bringing a camera
☆ college rodrick I @snowluvvie I F + ~S
☆ myspace I @/snowluvvie I F
☆ there she goes I @liquideyes I F
rodrick's parents had just grounded him after finding out about the party him and his younger brother had thrown while they were away. and more importantly they had told him he wasn't allowed to be in the talent show with his band. and ever since then he hadn't come out of his room. his family was growing worried, so greg took it upon himself to do one thing right and call you. and of course you wanted nothing more than to be there for you boyfriend.
☆ his little secret I @stxrrkissed I A
when rodrick’s band kicks off, he keeps the image of being single to attract fame, he keeps you as his little secret.
☆ better than revenge I @lqveharrington I A
after years of friendship with rodrick, the one thing that came in between you was a girl.
whoever requested fics, i’m so sorry but they probably won’t be published until the end of next week at earliest. i’m gonna be away at camp from sunday-thursday. and this past week i’ve been so busy that i’ve barely had time to starting them. :(
⤿ regret me : you and peter had been broken up for over a year. and the only difference between the two of you now is that you want to forget loving him and he can't stop. (this is a part of a series of fics inspired by the album aurora from daisy jones and the six.)
i’m feeling like an angst/comfort mcu!peter parker x reader with regret me would eat
ミ★ regret me ★彡
summary: you and peter had been broken up for over a year. and the only difference between the two of you now is that you want to forget loving him and he can't stop. (this is a part of a series of fics inspired by the album aurora from daisy jones and the six.)
pairing: mcu!peter parker x f reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: shitty writing, angst.. i don't know. i fear they're doomed lovers.
ao3 link series masterlist previous work
You would always regret falling for Peter Parker.
Being with him had been like facing a hurricane dead-on. Staring into the storm, knowing what chaos lay ahead, and still deciding to stay, feet planted in the ground. But that hurricane will break you, and tear you into a million little pieces. But you still made that choice, and it is way too late to take it back.
Your relationship had always been so spur of the moment. From your first confession, to your first kiss. Never giving any room for a solid foundation. You had always assumed that the solid ground would find you. Looking back this was a terrible thought. But your love for him had blinded you. He was the first person to ever make you feel truly loved.
But then as time went on it became clear that stumbling through the dark was not healthy. Especially considering all the secrets he was always keeping from you. It got to a point. And it was clear towards the end that neither of you knew how to handle it. You do wish you had at least done that. Instead of adding more fire to the flame.
The late-night laughs turned into full blown arguments over nothing. Despite you claiming they meant everything at the time. You were just mad that he was always gone, and you had no other means to take that out on him. Otherwise you would just end up waiting till 3 am for him to get back from who-knows-where, and crying into his arms when he did.
And of course it eventually got to the point where you needed to end things. Everyone saw it was coming. Your friends often tried to discreetly encourage the idea without upsetting you further.
So you gave him a choice. Not necessarily an ultimatum, moreso an escape. If he just told you why he was so back and forth you would forgive him. And try your best to move past things.
It was clear the moment the statement left your mouth that he had already made his choice.
You often said breaking up with him was the best decision you had ever made. But there were always nights where you missed his presence. When the doubt would start to creep in. That you were wrong about everything. And perhaps there was a small chance that things could’ve worked differently. If you had just said the right thing, or trusted him the slightest bit more.
But then the bad times would flash by just as quickly. And you would regret ever letting the thought get to your head.
Time had passed and you wouldn’t stop trying to forget the love you had once cherished. It wasn’t healthy clinging to something that was no longer yours. This was easy when no one in your shared circles had heard much about him since the breakup. And if they had, they didn’t bother telling you.
They were more your friends then his, so from you could tell he had decided to back off as soon as possible. It was his choice. Which made you feel slightly less bad about the whole ordeal.
So you deleted his number and attempted moving on. You went on dates, and spent a multitude of nights out with your friends to distract yourself from Peter’s memory. It would help for a time, but those thoughts of him always came back to you.
He had perpetually fucked any chance you had of finding someone right for you. Letting him in and loving was the biggest mistake you could ever make.
Picking up the phone when he called out of the blue was the second.
Peter Parker would always regret that he let you go.
Through the fights and all the pain, his time spent with you was some of the best of his life. After all the shit he had been through you were always there to fall back on. And when he sat and really thought about where everything went wrong, he could only bring himself to remember the good. The rose-tinted glasses were nearly impossible for him to take off.
After everything he couldn’t bring himself to forget the way the light hit your face in the morning light. Or the smell of your perfume, that even a year later he couldn’t escape. He just kept clinging on to the memory of you. Unfortunately that was all he had anymore.
Because he had never expected his time with you to end.
Or maybe he had. Which led him to draw away even further towards the end. It hurt being away from you, but it hurt even worse knowing that everytime he saw you it might be the last.
So when you ended things, he just stood and watched. Slowly accepting it because what else was there for him to do. He should’ve fought back–fought back for you–but he hadn’t wanted to hurt you further.
Because he had hurt you. Consistently bailing on dates, and just up and leaving in the middle of the night must have felt terrible. It hurt him too.
He always fought back and forth with the idea of telling you why. Bringing some semblance of piece of mind. But he had never wanted to drag you into his world, knowing it might end up hurting you. But was watching you in pain really any better.
In the end you had given him a choice. Looking back, he had made the wrong one.
And it still haunted him. He hated that he chose Spider-Man over you. He loved you. You were the one constant he had. When all being Spider-Man had given him was broken ribs and busted noses, you brought him comforting words and happiness.
The more and more he thought about it, the more he resented his decision. And that small part in the back of his mind that lay awake at night kept telling him to make it right. To tell you why he was always so distant, and so guarded. To tell you everything he had gone through as Spider-Man, and everything that made it unbearable to get out of bed in the morning.
What compelled him to actually act on that thought still confused him to this day. The only reasoning he remembered having was that enough time had passed. But had it really?
The thought of telling you everything just kept rolling around in the back of his mind. It was building up so much that it was a guarantee that sooner or later he would act on it.
Maybe you wouldn’t understand, and maybe it was too late. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there was a chance that you would hear him out, and actually listen to his explanation.
That chance was incredibly small, but he just needed the clarity before even attempting to move on from you.
And that is what kept him going when he picked up the phone and rang your number. As well as a lot of alcohol, but he wasn’t going to mention that part to you.
Of course you just had to pick up almost immediately. He had been hoping for quite the opposite.
“Hello, Peter.” You sounded nothing short of unimpressed.
The only thing he remembered thinking was that maybe this was the most stupid fucking decision he had ever made.
author's note: wrote most of this on my phone in the car #thegrindneverstops. moving on, if anyone wants to request a fic for the aurora series, or whatever you would call this, feel free to send in a request. there's still a bunch of slots open. and I will try my best to get it written as fast as possible. it might take a while, I still don't really know how I got this done so fast. it usually takes me so long to draft, especially requests for some reason. anyways hope y'all enjoyed my first peter parker fic, perhaps there will be more to come. or perhaps not because writing this brought me back to my middle school wattpad era. :/
romaincrisis
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
titsay
janainaart
2087
