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hotpinkstars · 2 days

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PREGNANCY CONFLICTS - boothill x reader

- boothill "passes" a few days after you announce your pregnancy. he's soon returned to you as a cyborg, and has a rough time with all of the realizations he discovers during your pregnancy.

- thank u guys sm for all the compliments im getting in my inbox about my idea and my writing i love every single one of u guysssss 💋 💋 and now the fic for my idea is finally here! i hope you guys enjoyyyyy

- mentions of insecurity, PREGNANCY, boothill is sad in this shdjfjsks so pretty much hurt no comfort in a very mild way, "M,d,y" means month, day, year, his way of death is not canon i made something up!!! wc 1.5k

Boothill has always talked about being a father. With how optimistic about your guys’ future he was, you could already tell he’d be a great, great father. So when you announced your pregnancy to him, he was ecstatic.

He spun you around in the air, putting you down to kiss you passionately. To him, all of his dreams have come true. As if you’ve given him a strong purpose in life, to not only protect you but to protect his little, and hopefully more to come.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he held you tightly. “Thank you for giving me such an opportunity.”

But then a few days after you announced it to him, he went missing. You spent day and night trying to contact people, get cops on the case, and go out there with someone yourself and try to find him. The cops brought a necklace, splotched in blood, with your initials on it. Saying they found his body and it was barely recognizable. They knew it was him because of the necklace around his neck and the wedding band that was stuck on a stray tree branch.

As both of those were returned back to you, you felt as if you couldn’t look at them without absolutely breaking down. You were set under the impression that he was gone forever. You felt horrible- not only for yourself, but the life you assumed your baby would have, being born into a world where they only have a mother who's trying her absolute best to provide and make sure their life goes as smoothly as possible.

On the 16th week of your pregnancy was when you heard a knock on the door late at night. Who could it be at this hour? You irritatingly got up and walked over to see who would be there.

It was who you were least expecting.

Boothill.

You stood there, unable to register what was happening. You had a hand on your stomach and the other was gripping the door handle. He stopped and stared at you back before beginning to speak.

“Y/n,” he said, nearly a whisper before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t step back, which was a good thing in his eyes.

“Boothill? What- how- huh?” You were absolutely speechless, unable to register the man standing in front of you. He’s dressed a lot differently then how you last saw him- he looked so western. He was western before he was pronounced dead, the accent is what got you in the first place. He’d always go to bars and all of that.

But he never looked so… out of place.

You’ve never seen the boots he had on before. You’ve never seen those pants (why do they look so slutty?) and his shirt was a whole other thing.

But the thing that intrigued you the most was that he was still standing, alive in front of you, but with a fully metal body.

“Come in and explain yourself,” you sighed, turning around and leading him into the all-too-familiar place. It still smelled the same way it used to, flowers and vanilla. He sat down on the white couch, leaning back into the same fabric he knew all that time ago.

But the difference was, he couldn’t feel it.

“How are you here? There's no way you’re real,” you shake your head, standing up and leaning into his face. You grab his chin lightly, turning his head both way before running your hands through his still silky hair. “Answer my questions.”

“Alright, shoot em.”

“When did you get me pregnant?” You ask, still looking into his now different eyes.

“Four months ago. You should be 16 weeks now.”

You nodded. “When's my birthday…?”

“M,d,y.”

You nodded. He was on it, and it’s convincing you even more that he was your Boothill.

“Lastly, why are you metal?”

“My body was destroyed. Y’ probably remember it,” he looked down at his hands before bringing them up to your cheek. You slightly flinched from the chill before nodding for him to continue his story. “I don’t remember th’ exact details, but jus’ say it was a failed mission.”

You looked at him up and down before sitting beside him.

“D’you still… love me?” He mumbled, almost soft enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention.

You took a moment of silence before responding to his question. “Of course I do. You’re my husband, Boothill.”

To that he smiled and brought you into a strong kiss. One passionate and greedy- he’s been starved of you as you have of him for the past four months. Once he broke it off, you both connected your foreheads before going back into a full blown make out session.

Your pregnancy is incredibly taxing for the cyborg to handle. Instead of flesh and blood he has metal. He can’t feel you, and to him, it’s the worst feeling in the world. He truly wishes he could turn back time to right before the night of the accident.

He wishes he was able to return home safe, so he could be there for your whole pregnancy. He basically missed the entire first trimester!

At this point, you marked 32 weeks. Your pregnancy was very noticeable and Boothill took a lot of pride in being alongside you, shedding his insecurities as soon as he left the house.

He’s always been a very clingy man. He’s always wanted your touch and attention whenever he’d get home from whatever it was he’d do for work during the day, and he’d always receive it.

But now, he needs to use his head to feel you. He’s always found lying down on your stomach in his free time, so he can feel his child. He is unable to feel kicks with any other parts of his body, so he relies on that.

“‘Hill, I need to go to the bathroom. You might need to move in a second here-” you started, but he looked up at you and began to speak over you.

“Alright, alright… but’cha better come right back, please?”

You nodded before shuffling out of the bed, motioning for him to get up and help you off of the mattress and up on your feet. Once he easily pulls you up, he flops back down as he watches you close the door connected to your room.

He thought hard in those two minutes you were gone. Very hard. To the point he thought he was going to have a breakdown.

He regretted everything. He regretted engaging in the enemy's tricks. He regretted leaving you lonely for so long. And what he regrets most is returning to you like this.

A hunk of metal, who can be destroyed as many times as possible. He’ll always be able to have his body replaced. His head and hair were the only human thing about the man.

He believes you deserve so, so much better. You deserve a man who can live his life to the fullest and actually be able to be there for you during your vulnerable times, and not let grief get in the way. You deserve someone capable of giving you more children in the future, and he believes your baby deserves a dad who can be there for him and be normal.

He might even be worried about judgment. He’s not sure. He feels so emotional yet so dull at the same time.

“Boothill? Is everything alright? You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past minute,” you said from next to him. How did he not even realize your presence?

“Hah? Yea, I’m fine. How’re ya’ feeling?” He says in his usual tone, trying to swiftly play off his thoughts not even ten seconds ago. “How’s baby doin’ in there?”

You let out a soft giggle before placing your hand on his cold knee. “We’re well. I’m concerned about what just happened with you though. Tell me, what is on your mind?”

The man sighs and shakes his head before resting it back on your belly. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty head off about.” He simply left it at that and nothing more.

When it came time for labor, he was truly nervous. Every attempt he made at trying to make physical contact with you in that time failed, because his hands were either too hard or too cold. He backed off and watched from the sidelines as you brought his little baby girl into the world.

He so desperately wanted to hold her, and you could see the urge in his eyes. She looked so much like him. She had his gorgeous silky black and white hair with your eyes. He thought she was an angel brought from heaven.

Once he finally got to hold her, he was told to keep her swaddled in the blanket she was wrapped in. All was well until she started crying due to the cold of his arms, and the baby was taken off into tests before he could even blink.

#boothill #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai #star rail #boothill x reader #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy #angst #boothill angst

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a-b-riddle · 11 hours

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Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.

For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.

Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.

Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.

For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.

But it wasn't.

And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.

Did they still want this?

The answer was clear.

You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.

Jesus.

A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.

You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.

You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.

Kyle.

Fuck.

Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.

Maybe that was just as bad.

What are you up to today?

That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.

You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.

E-mail the publisher back.

Change the locks.

You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.

No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.

So you didn't respond.

You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.

You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.

You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'

It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.

Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.

But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.

You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.

You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.

Fuck.

That almost got you.

You almost answered it.

Almost.

You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.

And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.

Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.

Not that you would really hear it again...

Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.

On my way. We need to talk.

It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.

The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.

Not my taste, Dove.

Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.

I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.

Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.

The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.

Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.

Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.

You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.

You just hoped you didn’t regret it.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #poly141 #angst #grovel #groveling

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deunmiu-dessie · 2 days

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(unedited) john price knew he would marry you the first time he saw you.

john price met you in the rain.

the memory of the encounter remains etched in his mind like a timeless portrait. as the years pass and his recollections fade, the moment of your first meeting remains vivid and unblemished.

the sky, a somber shade of ashen blue, was adorned with brooding clouds of a dark and furious pearl grey. thunder roared in the distance, while lightning ominously streaked across the sky. the rain, a gentle drizzle, tapped rhythmically on his freshly trimmed lawn and his parked truck. seated on his porch, cradling a cup of tea, john's loyal english mastiff, simply known as 'dog', slumbered beneath his chair.

he'd only had a few more days left until he was back in the field, and despite having needed a couple of days to rest, john was ready to get back to the familiarity of work- especially when there wasn't anyone waiting for him when he got home. ( well, besides 'dog' )

john had always been content with his own company, finding relief in the quiet moments spent with his loyal dog. the peacefulness that came with his aloneness had become a sanctuary, a place where he could escape from the disorder of the world and his position; and find solace in his thoughts. but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months and then further, john's heart began to yearn for something more.

the familiarity of being alone, once a source of comfort, now felt like a hefty weight on his shoulders. the emptiness that had once brought him peace now seemed suffocating, as if the walls of his home were closing in on him. he craved for a wife who would eagerly anticipate his return home from his weeks away, someone to hold close and shower with affection.

the stillness that had once brought him solace now echoed with a deep longing for intimacy. the sound of his footsteps seemed hollow, and the absence of life within the house filled the empty spaces of his home with a haunting void. john couldn't help but yearn for the day when his despondent home would be replaced with the joy of shared moments and the love of another.

he craved for the warmth of another's touch, the feeling of intertwined fingers and loving touches. he craved the sound of laughter filling the air, the kind that could only come from shared jokes and inside stories. john imagined the simple pleasures of cooking together, of sharing meals and conversations that stretched long into the night.

and despite himself, despite not wanting to feel anything. his heart ached for the intimacy of whispered secrets and stolen kisses, for the comfort of knowing that someone was there to catch him when he stumbled, unconditionally. he yearned for the simple pleasure of waking up next to someone, their presence a constant reminder that he was not alone anymore.

john price, for the first time in what felt like decades; craved for something more.

john's focus is abruptly interrupted by a thunderous slam, causing his weary eyes to shift from his tepid cup of tea. his piercing blue gaze fixates on the source of the commotion across the street. as he observes, his attention is captivated by you, and while being lost in his own melancholic thoughts, he realizes that the rain has intensified, pouring down relentlessly.

there you stand on your porch, engaged in a heated argument with a man. your gestures are animated, your lips downturned in a pained frown, and your brows knitted together in irritation.

the rain's melody drowns out all other sounds, leaving john in a world of silence from the conversation. yet, even amidst this deafening quiet, he cannot tear his gaze away from you, your eyes widening in disbelief as the man retreats into the house, slamming the door shut. price watches as you fish out a pair of car keys from your pocket, walking briskly down the porch stairs and to a car that sits in the driveway. you're immediately drenched in rain from head to toe and john finds that you still look breathtaking regardless.

inexplicably, the two of you lock eyes, and your lips pull into a thin line, your words barely audible over the pouring rain but he catches them nonetheless. "what the hell are you lookin' at?!" then you slip into the car and speed down the street before he can even process what he's heard. slowly a smirk pulls at his lips, the crowsfeet around his eyes deepening.

john price, wanted you.

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mmavverickk · 2 days

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how do you think Jason felt knowing he looked like Luke Kronos? how do you think this kid, this child who’d been raised to be a soldier, who is so fundamentally good and tries so hard, felt when he realized why the greek campers were uneasy around him.

not because he was roman. the greeks didn’t care about that. but because he was tall. lean. blond hair, blue eyes. facial scar. brotherly disposition.

someone who’d looked just like Jason had been a leader at this Camp. someone who’d looked just like Jason had been a brother here. someone who’d looked just like Jason had taken their trust and shredded it, had turned their siblings against them, had sabotaged their home, had caused so many deaths in his war to destroy Olympus, to be noticed by his father. (something Jason also desperately wants.)

Hera had sent Jason to replace Percy—the leader, the hero. but how was he meant to do that when all any of them could think when they looked at him was traitor?

#mav.txt #percy jackson #jason grace #jason grace angst #angst #luke castellan #kronos #pjo #percy jackson headcanon #heroes of olympus

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mionemymind · 1 day

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Don't Say Something Stupid

Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)

Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?

A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix

Word Count: 662

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”

Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”

“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed.

“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”

Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room.

And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid.

“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.”

“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”

While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?”

“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.

“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed.

“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.

“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”

Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through.

Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.

Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”

Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa

@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #angst #wanda maximoff #Don't Say Something Stupid #Don't Ask Stupid Questions #friends with benefits trope #mionemymind

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valeriearmani1 · 3 days

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“remus wraps his arms around him, and it takes sirius a few seconds to realise he hadn’t been held in 12 years.”

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar #angst #magic

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 1 day

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Sub!Matt HC’s

-M.S

▐ Sub!Matt who: can’t ever keep his hands to himself. No matter what you’re doing, or where you are. Not only in sex, but he’s just always got his hands on you.

▐ Sub!Matt who: acts all that— until he’s underneath you. Then he’s whimpering and whining, throwing out apologies, begging you to stop, knowing good as hell he doesn’t want you to.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves it when you ride him. Weather that be gentle or rough, he loves it when you bounce on him, slamming down onto his cock.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to admit he’s a sub. Even though he and everyone else knows he is, he refuses to admit it.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Begs you to leave hickeys, but then pouts about it the next morning, claiming his fans would see, and his brothers would make fun of him.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves being bossed around. He acts like he hates it, but he loves it, and you know. That’s why you always boss him around. Telling him exactly what to do in a firm and demanding voice.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always begs. Even when you don’t ask him to, he always does. “Please, please, please let me cum!” As if you denied him the privilege, knowing you didn’t.

▐ Sub!Matt who: is VERY vocal. He’s loud, he cries, he whines, anything to make noise. His moans are so loud, even his brothers occasionally make fun of him for it, like texting him ‘if ya gon moan at least be on top buckaroo. ur gross kid’

▐ Sub!Matt who: Tries to be punished. He likes it when you’re rough on him, but he’s scared to upright ask you, so he thinks that so long as he’s a brat, he’ll get punished- and he’s right.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Wants to please everyone. This kid takes subspace to a whole other level, wanting to accommodate to everyones’ needs, being touchy and whiny to the people he’s close with. You think it’s adorable.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to please you. You always claim he comes first, but he throws a fit and pouts. He always wants to make sure you feel good too, weather that be his cock, fingers, or mouth.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is subconscious of cumming first. He’s not sure why, but he always insists you cum before him, no matter what.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Can’t sit still. You tie him down all the time to still his movements, but it doesn’t work. He always finds a way to jerk his hips when he’s overstimulated or needs more.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to say it, but loves to be edged and overstimulated. He loves crying and withering under your touch, his body betraying his mind when he begs for more.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to go round for round. Its easier for him to say, since he’s not doing as much work as you, but the kid wants to go forever.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always tells everyone how good his girlfriend is in bed. He never brings up the fact that he’s a sub, he just states she’s amazing and knows what she’s doing. You love it, but it can get embarrassing at times.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Acts dominant when others are around. Even going as far as grabbing your throat or slapping your ass when you don’t do as told, even though he know’s he’ll get punished for it later.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is always needy. Watching a movie on the couch with his brothers? He’ll grind on your leg under the blanket. At a party? He’ll sit you on his lap, grinding your ass into his crotch, hiding his face in your neck. At dinner? Under the table. This man needs your touch anywhere.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Claims he hates public sex, knowing good as fuck it turns him on so fast. Trying on a new lingerie set? He gets fucked in the dressing room. Sees you in a bathing suit? He gets fucked in the water. Stressed after a meeting? Gets fucked in his car.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves making a mess. He hates cleaning it up, but seeing his- or your- cum all over the bed, his and your body, he loves it.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Pouts to you when Chris or Nick tease him for being a sub. ‘Ma! Tell ‘em to stop!’ He whines. ‘Matty, they were telling you to pipe down next time.’ You scold, but he whines again, shoving his body into yours.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Complains about you calling him pet names in public. “Baby, c’mon.” you urge the boy. “Hey! Shhh!” He shushes, covering your mouth with his hand. “What, hun?” You ask, pulling away from his hand. “No!” He growls, his cheeks turning red. “Matt!” You gasp.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is so embarrassed when you compliment him. “You look very pretty today, pretty boy.” You hum in his ear, and his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Has a love-hate relationship with teasing. It depends on how bad he needs you, but sometimes you take too long for his liking, causing the boy to almost cum untouched.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Secretly loves it when you drag him around. “Matt. Come.” You demand, grabbing the boy’s collar on his shirt, and he allows you to drag him around. “Stand up, Matt!” Chris jokes.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

IM SORRY IF THIS ISNT GOOD THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HCS PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK🙏🏻

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @tillies33ssss @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @slut4mattsturn

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst #matt sturniolo texts #sub matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #smut

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lixxpix · 3 days

Text

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably.

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression.

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm.

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it?

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you.

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jump onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled.

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words.

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again.

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours.

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy.

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have."

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?"

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded.

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating.

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression.

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands.

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor. minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings.

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun.

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence.

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed. you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline.

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly.

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time.

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved.

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp.

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.”

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

281 notes · View notes

fraugwinska · 2 days

Note

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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badly-drawn-doflamingo · 2 days

Text

‘birthdays’ - full comic !!

“So, what did you wish for Usopp?”

“…”

“Another birthday like this one.”

“And a nap like Jinbe.”

“..is he breathing?-“ “I don’t know.”

#I was late #sorry #they share a birthday week #Usopp #one piece #comic #one piece comic #angst #banchina #brook #soul king brook #jinbe #JinBrook #fishbones

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emthimofnight · 11 hours

Text

some angsty sketches from villain!Stellar's AU

#my art #sketch #stellar the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonadow #shadonic #sth #sonic #shadow #sonadow fankid #sonadow fanchild #villain!stellar #angst #i love pain LOL

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inkyray · 16 hours

Note

Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?

a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror

warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything

TOUCHED

You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.

You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.

You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."

You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.

He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.

You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.

"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.

"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"

You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.

You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.

He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.

"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.

PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.

It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.

You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.

You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.

Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.

You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.

You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.

You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.

You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.

He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.

Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.

You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.

You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.

You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.

Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.

"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.

"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of her hands quicken. You try to stop them putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.

"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.

"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.

In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.

He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."

You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."

"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."

It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one.

Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.

The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you.

Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes wide as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.

It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.

Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.

"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.

"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."

You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."

In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.

Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.

You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.

Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.

You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.

"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.

The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.

You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.

"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.

You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.

"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."

"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."

Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."

"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.

"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.

Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt growled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.

"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.

"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.

You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.

"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.

"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.

The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.

Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.

You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.

You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.

"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"

"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.

"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.

Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.

"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.

"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"

With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.

The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.

Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.

The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.

"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.

You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back faster.

Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.

The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.

"You know what you're fucking—"

"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.

" 'because it always has to be your way—"

"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"

"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"

You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.

You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.

"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.

They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.

Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.

"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."

Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."

Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."

And they were gone.

You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.

"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display affection, or whatever."

He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.

"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.

"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."

You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."

You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."

The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.

"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.

He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.

"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry about that too."

He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.

"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.

"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."

He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."

"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.

"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"

"Promise."

"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."

"You got it, love."

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a-b-riddle · 14 hours

Text

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #grovel #we love a good grovel don't we girls

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