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charliemwrites · 3 months

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…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #poly 141 #open relationship trope #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

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yandere! popular girl x gn!reader x yandere emo boy

A/n: "Mimi" is 18 years old and a sophomore! This post is nsfw so minors do not interact! Sorry for the shitty ending, I'm too sleepy

💓yandere! Popular girl who first introduced herself as "Mimi", refusing to tell you her real name as she found you sitting alone at lunch. Riley having left to go and get a lunch for himself

"saw you by yourself and I couldn't leave such a cute thing all by their lonesome! What's your name sweetheart?"

🌺Mimi follows you everywhere, much to Riley's displeasure, she quickly becomes someone fun and reliable for you to hang out with. You never seemed to notice the tension she had with the aforementioned goth

🌷Mimi slowly pushes the boundaries of your friendship, Getting very touchy feely and claiming it was how she was with all her friends! Which isn't much of a lie since you've seen how she acts the same with them.. but still, you could swear she was more personal with you..

💓Mimi starts getting dirty thoughts of you 3 months into your friendship, desperately needing to touch herself to get some relief. It was such a problem since she had a high sex drive, just a horny virgin really

"ah.. hah.. babydoll.. fuck, wish you were here.. wonder how you'd take care of me.. ah..! cumming.."

🌺Mimi secretly has low self esteem and confidence, seeing you as her only saving light despite being surrounded by people who love her. She doesn't need them! All she wants is you.

🌷Riley and Mimi who start getting sexually frustrated because you're either so dense to their advances or you're just choosing to ignore the signs. They come to an agreement to satisfy eachother until they can get you, whoever reaches you first wins fair and square

"Riley! Slow down, w-wait not inside-!?"

"...whoops"

"goddamnit Riley... You're so lucky I'm on the pill.."

💓Riley and Mimi who slowly start falling in love, their dates often involving stalking you and/or mutually masturbating to hearing you get yourself off in your room, through the camera Mimi hid under your bed one time when she was over

🌺Mimi has a big breeding kink, and loves it when she gets her clit slapped. Cumming almost instantly. Riley is more than happy to help. (They totally aren't planning on going 10x more roughly on you)

🌷Mimi and Riley who kidnap you as soon as you all graduate, keeping you locked in Riley's basement. Mimi moves in soon after and they both take turns going out to work or looking after you

💓if you're afab Mimi will beg Riley to knock you both up once you're financially stable. If you're amab Mimi will beg you to give her a baby. She's desperate okay

🌺5 years later they managed to forge a three-way marriage contract, keeping it under wraps as you're all now legally married! Congrats to the happy couple

🌷Mimi is incredibly happy, but she can also feel her grip on reality slipping.. hm,must be nothing, right?

#queenie ocs #queenie writes #“mimi” méina valez the popular girl #Riley Sanderson the emo boy #yandere female #yandere male #yandere #ocs #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male x reader #Yandere female x reader #Yandere poly #polygamous yanderes #Yandere x you #yandere imagines #Yandere ocs #Yandere lemon

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sapphicgrandmaster · 1 month

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Thinking about a girl giving me her attention makes me horny

#sapphic #wlw #wlw ns/fw #lesbian #wlw blog #girl love #sapphic power #wlw smut #wlw love #lesbians #wlw heat #wlw concepts #wlw poly #wlw community #lesbians in heat #lesbian polyamory #lesbian mommy #dommymommy #dom mom

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felsdumpsterfire · 1 year

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I will never have the mental capacity to play this game but do I love them? Absolutely

#fear and hunger #funger #f&h #not a reblog.#my art.#d'arce #cahara #the girl #enki #moonless #ragnvaldr #I love them a lot #they're all in a poly by the end of it in my noggin'#they adopt the girl cahara's wife joins the poly #all is well #no you will not convince me otherwise #i am delusional 💖

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yagamimi-aka-mimi · 9 months

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🧦

#nova #revenant #blender #lowpoly #vampire #3d model #3d artwork #low poly #ps1 #ps1 aesthetic #psx #vampire girl #cyborg vampire #dhampir

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meangirls-imagines · 1 month

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Protective Plastic

Description: Everyone in North Shore knows that Reader and the Plastics are in a polyamorous relationship. Guys still make nasty comments about them. Reader has a very short temper. It breaks at a party after Shane tries to corner Regina.

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, fighting, injury, alcohol consumption, minor weed consumption, the plastics being soft for their girl.

Everyone thank @yungpoetfics for inspiring me to write this.

Bubs. Thank you for rambling about mean girls with me and fueling my ideas! I luv u!

The party at Jake's was in full swing by the time Y/N pulled up to the house. She sighed before parking near the familiar jeep. She turned her car off and grabbed the pre-rolled joints she brought and got out of her car.

She had promised her girlfriends that she would come to the party. She didn't want to, she'd rather be at home smoking and enjoying her Friday night but her girlfriends gave her those damn puppy eyes and she couldn't resist.

She trudged up the front yard, passing a few passed out teenagers as she walked into the house.

The music was blasting and Y/N could already not hear herself think. All she wanted to do was find her girlfriends, but with the amount of people in the house, it was going to take forever. So, she grabbed herself a beer and headed out to the backyard where everyone was smoking or quietly talking amongst themselves.

She pulled out her phone to text the girls where she was so they could find her. She put the phone back in her pocket and pulled out her lighter and one of the joints.

She lit the joint and took a pull as Karen made her way out of the house. The girl scanned the yard before her eyes landed on Y/N. She lit up and walked over to Y/N, plopping herself in the girl's lap.

"Hi baby!" Y/N kissed Karen and smiled, offering the joint to the girl, who excitedly took it and took a pull. "You look so pretty, angel. How is your night going?" Karen blushed and handed the joint back to her girlfriend.

"Much better now that you're here! Gretchen and I were dancing a lot and Regina even joined us." Y/N smiled. As if she was summoned, Gretchen came out the back door, instantly seeing her girls and quickly walking over to them.

"Corazón!" Y/N smiled brightly at the girl as she sat down next to her, gently guiding her into a bruising kiss. Y/N moaned into it as Gretchen slid her tongue into her mouth. The two made out for a minute before pulling away.

Y/N looked at Gretchen with a smirk on her face. "Where did that come from?" Gretchen smirked back. "I've missed you, amor." Y/N smiled and pecked her lips. "I missed you too. Where's Gina?"

Gretchen motioned for the joint. "She's getting us drinks. She'll be out in a minute." Y/N nodded and continued talking to her girls as they passed the joint around. By the time the joint was finished, Regina still hadn't come out.

Y/N decided to go check on the blonde, handing the second joint to Karen and Gretchen along with her lighter, before venturing into the house. She searched the living room where everyone was dancing, not seeing Regina and headed to the kitchen.

What she saw made her see red and her blood boil.

Regina looked very uncomfortable as she was pressed up to the counter by none other than Shane Oman.

Y/N stormed over to where her girlfriend was and cleared her throat. Regina looked relieved to see her girlfriend as Shane turned around annoyed. "I think my girlfriend wants you to leave her alone, Shane."

The boy looked at Y/N annoyed. "Was I asking you, Y/N? No. Let Regina talk for herself." He turned back to the blonde and Y/N grabbed his shoulder to turn him once again.

"I don't care if you were asking me or not, she isn't interested." Shane glared at the girl before smirking. "Oh, I see. You wanna play hero. It's not going to end well for you. So back off." Y/N shoved him. "Shut up, Oman. You're just jealous my silicone dick is bigger than your actual dick."

Shane snapped and swung, connecting with Y/N's cheek. Regina gasped as Y/N recovered quite quickly before throwing herself at the boy.

Fists were wild flying as the two tussled on the ground. A crowd had formed and people were recording. Regina was screaming at the two to stop, trying to get someone to help her.

Shane had the upper hand, he had Y/N pinned down and was raining punches down on her face. Y/N had a major cut above her eyebrow and her nose was bleeding. She managed to get a knee up and knee the boy in the back, quickly getting the upper hand back.

At this point, Karen and Gretchen had ran back in the house and caught a glimpse of the chaos unfolding. Y/N managed to get a few good hits on Shane before she was pulled off by Aaron.

The two were a mess, blood all over their faces and knuckles. The girls automatically went to Y/N, immediately fussing over her as Shane was getting held back by a couple of football players. Jake had made his way to the commotion, breaking up the crowd and kicking Shane out.

He apologized to the girls for Shane before taking his leave. Regina stood in front of Y/N as she leaned back on the counter for support. Her girlfriends stood in front of her, assessing her injuries as the girl swayed. "We have to get her home. Gretchen, can you drive her car to my house?"

As the four made it back to Regina's house, Regina and Karen helped Y/N out of the Jeep, Gretchen coming to help. The three guided Y/N to Regina's room, before letting her lay down on the huge bed. The three sprung into action, Karen grabbing water and a snack for Y/N, Gretchen grabbing clothes, and Regina grabbing the first aid kit out of her bathroom.

Regina decided to clean Y/N up before she got changed and she pulled out alcohol pads, Y/N immediately cringing. Regina smiled at the girl. "Baby. I know you hate it, but I don't need that cut to get infected. It's gonna sting."

Gretchen and Karen held Y/n's hands as Regina cleaned her face up. Y/N hissed in pain as Regina gently wiped the cuts. Gretchen and Karen decided to take the time to clean Y/N's hands, gently wiping the dried blood off.

After the girls were done, they helped Y/N change before changing themselves and sandwiched Y/N in bed. Y/N laid in-between Karen and Gretchen who ran their fingers through her hair. Regina was spooning Karen and also holding Y/N's hand, gently rubbing her bruised knuckles with her thumb.

"Thank you for protecting me tonight, Y/N. I really appreciate it, baby." Y/N squeezed the blonde's hand. "Anything for you baby. I'd do anything for all three of you."

The girls voiced their gratitude and gently lulled Y/N to sleep, exhausted from the chaos.

#plastics x reader #regina george x reader #karen shetty x reader #gretchen wieners x reader #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #poly!plasticsverse

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sbrown82 · 1 year

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Black Women of Rock & Roll in the 60s and 70s:

Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Marsha Hunt

The Ronettes

Betty Davis

Norma-Jean Wofford a.k.a “The Duchess”

Poly Styrene

Merry Clayton

Tina Turner

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charliemwrites · 3 months

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A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

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