#kinda left this open incase my fellow softies want a part two where they make up yanno

[emmyrosee]

Axel has been busy with his worth and reader feels like they are drifting apart. On a night out she feels him bored and catches him talking to another girl when he is asking for a drink in a bar. At home, she confronts him and there's a big fight. Hit me with the angst but finish me with fluff please!!

This got long because I have no self control

The mascara streaking down your face stung your eyes as you forced them open. You didn’t smoke often, but from the sights you’ve just witnessed, the pain in your clenched, tight chest, you knew you deserved the burning cigarette that loosely dangles from your fingers.

It was flirting. It was disgusting. You felt violated as you watched his slender, long fingers trace the curve of her high-planed cheek, almost feeling the disgusting tingle yourself. His wide, sly grin spreads on his face like smooth chocolate, and you wanted nothing more than to smack it the fuck off of him.

Axel’s hands were clean from oil, which seemed to hurt you the worst. In the past years of you two dating, you cannot recall one fucking day where his hands were perfectly clean. And the fact that he lied to you and told you he was going to work? He hadn’t even pretended like he went, then got a drink because of stress from shop. He knew he wasn’t going to work.

Because it was a date. And God forbid he look greasy for that little bitch.

You exhaled as steady as you could and raked a hand through your hair, judgement hazy and mind a blur. You swerved into the empty driveway of your shared house, and upon seeing Axel had taken his beloved Mustang in place of his normal truck, your anger tipped.

You basically had to beg Axel to take you in the ‘Stang. And you couldn’t believe that he would just let him go with her.

-----

One shirt. Two shirt.

Red shirt. Blue shirt.

They all were flung from the closet and onto the front lawn you both shared, everything from the multiple sweatshirts you’d stolen over the years, to the expensive tux he’d spend years saving for.

Not in your closet. Not anymore. 

The soft whoosh past your head as you threw his clothes out the window was far from loud, but your boiling blood was able to quell any noise outside noise. The lack of care dulled the noise to a subtle buzz, vision still blurry from the mascara which you’d neglected to clean.

There was a muffled, drowned-like noise that grew, but you could pay it no mind as-

“HEY!” The voice screamed. A tight hold clamped on your biceps and tried to pull you, but you stood your ground and fought your hardest against it.

But the grip was too strong, and when it forced you to look at the culprit, all your senses could focus on was the angry, worried face of Axel Cluney.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He barks, shaking you to your senses. “Are you fucking insane!”

“Get your disgusting paws off of me, you cheating waste of conception!” You screamed. Tears stabbed at the back of your eyes again, and you hated giving him the satisfaction of seeing you like this. You managed to worm out of his grip, and you could do nothing but stare at him.

His face no longer held the goofy, cocky smile it held hours ago. His eyes no longer twinkled with adoration, but rage. And his jaw, clenched so tightly in distress, and if it were any other goddamned scenario, you’d shush him softly, coaxing him to release the tight hold in worry he would hurt his teeth.

But not this time. You couldn't care less, this time.

Your chuckle of disbelief was first to break the chain of silence, “started unpacking your shit. Should be easy for you to gather, load in your shitbox and head out.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he growls, taking a step forwards as if to intimidate you. “Until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Jesus Christ!” You laugh maniacally. “As if you have no clue what’s going on, Alexander!”

“I don’t!” He yells. There’s a twang in his voice, the kind of noise he makes when he’s too stressed, or about to cry and denies it with a small “I’m not crying.”

It’s the little things that made you fall for Axel; the breaks in his voice, the way he scratches above his left eyebrow when he’s on the spot, the way he chews the scar in the bottom left corner of his lip when he’s anxious.

It’s the little things that will be the hardest to forget.

“P-please,” he whispers, all fight leaving him. “W-what is g-going on?”

“I saw you!” You blurt. Your bottom lip wobbles, and your tears finally let go when you see his hand flinch- another habit of his, to help you stop crying; he just reaches up and tilts your shaky chin to look up at him, smoothing the crinkled lines of your fought tears. 

“I saw you,” you echo. “I saw you with her, okay? This-this-this wasn’t through the grapevine or some town gossip I heard, I fucking saw you with her!” Your words carry a certain venom that makes him blink away tears. 

Axel’s forest green eyes stay focused on your face as he looks around. They redden at his tears, and you can’t help but seethe with anger again.

“You do not get to cry!” You shriek, picking up a pile of his discarded work jeans and throwing them at him. He shields himself, slowly backing up as you follow his steps. “No! That’s not fair! You cheated on me!”

“I would never!” He chokes, clutching a hand to his heart. “Baby, I couldn’t-”

“No,” you interrupt flatly, staring off in defeat. “No. Not baby. Not anymore.” Axel slowly approaches you- another habit of absolutely needing your touch- but stops when you hold your hand up. He looks like a puppy you just kicked, his glassy eyes just silently begging you to listen to reason, listen to him.

And yet... you can’t.

“Get your shit off my lawn,” you murmur numbly. “You’ve got until seven in the morning.” You turn on your heel to leave, and the signals in your brain cross as two strong arms, concealed by the chill of leather, wrap around you and pull you tight to his chest, and you can’t bring yourself to fight him off.

“Please,” he sobs feebly. “Don’t send me away. I love you. I love you, please, don’t make me leave, I’ll try to explain everything, but don’t hate me. Don’t keep me away, I need you, I-”

“Shhhh,” you soothe despite your tears. You turn yourself in Axel’s arms and gently cup his cheeks, easing his deep, painful wails. His knees buckle under him and you gently go down with him. His begs and cries turn to gaspy breaths and sniffles, and you gently hug his head to your chest.

You hate how much he needs you. You hate how much you need him. You hate how convincing he is. You hate that he’s so traumatized at the mere idea of you being so mad to send him away. You hate how good he feels in your arms.

You hate how much you love him.

“What am I going to do with you?” You ask to no one as Axel’s grip on your shirt doesn’t loosen, his quiet sobs seemingly the only noise left.

The only communications left.

[emmyrosee]

could you write about duncan x michael x jim x fem reader where you all are in this argument and none of them are taking your side and they’re mad at chu and they won’t see your side and you just feel like you’re being teamed up on :( something similar to this happened to me and i’m v frustrated

Oh honey!! Forget ‘em, if you’re gonna fight with someone, ya gotta listen to everyone!! I hope you feel better soon and things get sorted out :(❤️

————

It was a petty argument, that was for certain. But it was a hefty one nonetheless.

Granted, sneaking out of the house to go meet up with an ex-boyfriend you were trying to reconnect with because he was just a good person and you ended on good terms probably wasn’t the best idea you could do, though you couldn’t really tell them that.

Not when it’s three to one; there’s six eyebrows in front of you that are furrowed in anger, six arms crossed in anger, and not one look of attempted understanding.

“I can’t believe I’m in a relationship with not one, not two, but three men, but when I try to be nice to an old friend, I’m on not one, not two, but three shit lists!” You snap, eyes wide at their lack of understanding.

“This isn’t an old friend,” Duncan spit. “This is someone who made you laugh like Jimmy. This is someone who made you breakfast like Michael. Someone who makes you feel better. So forgive us for being worried!”

“He’s also the most boring and overresponsible thing to walk the face of the planet! If you three could just listen to me for five seconds, you would feel like such idiots!”

“Why?” Jim growls. “For being worried that you’ll leave the three of us for one Superman? The more you hang out with him, the more you might realize the fours a crowd!”

“If you would just-“

“Look sweetheart,” Michael started. “I don’t think it’s crazy for us to this angry. So you know what, if you’re gonna go sneak around with him, go for it. Have a blast. Just have the decency to put the gas back in my car when you take it on your little trysts!”

“What part of ‘I only want to be with you guys’ is not sinking through those thick, egotistical heads of yours?” You ask, slowly losing you patience. Duncan opens his mouth to speak, but you quickly shush him. “No, you know what? Here’s my phone,” you toss your phone to them and ball your fists. “If none of the three fuckheads I’m dating trust me enough with a friend that just so happens to be a man, go through my messages! Call him for dinner! Put on a wig and spend five minutes with him and tell me just how much you want him to fuck you! And once you’ve done all of that, you can come fucking talk to me!” With red hot anger pulsing through your veins, you stomp to your room and slam the door shut, leaving the three men to their thoughts.