#but I can’t just not do it. what does life fucking want from me. what does the world want from me.

[lovecla]

FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader

SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.

WORD COUNT 5,5k

WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.

FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!

𖧷

on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love

but we felt the rush (fell in love)

it made us believe it was only us

THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.

When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.

Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.

The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.

“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”

Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.

Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.

Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.

“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?

Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.

You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.

Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.

“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.

“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”

“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”

“Who told you that?”

“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”

“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”

“I’ll bring the flour.”

𖧷

THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.

You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.

You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.

You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.

“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.

“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“No, you see—”

“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”

There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.

“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.

You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”

You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.

But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.

Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.

Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”

Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.

The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.

There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.

Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.

You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.

They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”

“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.

“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”

There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.

“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.

“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”

“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”

“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”

“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”

You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”

“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”

“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.

You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.

Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.

And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.

So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.

You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”

“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”

Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.

“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”

You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”

“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”

“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.

“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”

“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.

“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.

“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”

“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”

There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.

The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.

“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”

You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.

And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.

So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?

But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.

“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.

Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”

“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.

Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.

You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.

“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”

“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”

“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”

Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.

You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.

So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.

All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.

You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.

“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.

Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.

His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.

It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.

It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.

“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”

And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.

He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.

It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.

“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”

“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”

The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.

Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.

You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.

“Ah.”

“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”

You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.

He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.

Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.

“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”

It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.

“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.

Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.

You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”

You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.

“I need your words, baby.”

“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”

Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”

You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.

“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”

You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.

You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.

“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”

“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”

You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”

After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.

You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.

Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.

Oh.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.

The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.

But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.

“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”

You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.

“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”

The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.

“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”

“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.

Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.

Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.

“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”

And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.

The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.

Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.

“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”

After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.

Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.

Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.

You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.

But—

“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”

“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.

You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.

“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I think I’m hard again.”

“Lowkey, yeah.”

You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.

𖧷

YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.

It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.

“Hi.”

Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.

You frowned.

“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”

It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.

“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.

“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.

“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”

“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.

He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”

He smiled.

“Then we’re fine.” It’s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.

“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”

You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”

He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.

“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”

“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”

“As I said, no fun.”

“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”

Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.

It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.

You had already done it.

NHL MASTERLIST.

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.

QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@pamwritessometimes

"This sat in my drafts for months..." Then proceeds to write something so utterly TRUE, HONEST, and ON BRAND for falling in love with the frustrating, adorable, lovable, asshole that is Soldier Boy.

I loved every bit of this fic!

He’s a walking contradiction. He can be crude and crass and violent, but his hands that are scarred and calloused from years of supposed war and bloodshed, are so uncharacteristically gentle when they touch you like he’s terrified of breaking something he doesn’t know how to stitch back together. And you love it. You love that you make him hesitate. That you make him stay. "Fuck, you’ve ruined me" he murmurs one night, pressing his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips. “You made me a goddamn pussy.”

I AM MELTING! This is SO good. I love this part because the idea that Ben is a "contradiction" is true when it comes to the reader. I love the headcanon that Ben is violent and angry, but he's soft when it comes to his girl. I do not believe for one second that Ben would ever be violent towards the woman he loves or want to hurt her in any way even when he's angry. And I love a man with rough hands that is only gentle with them when he’s with his girl 😍

And the line "Fuck, you've ruined me" made my soul leave my body. I cannot describe how good it is or how wonderfully it fits him.

You see, Ben isn’t good with words. Not the important ones, anyway. But he’s fluent in actions.

Oh goodness, every single example you listed after this line was perfect for him. Ben giving the reader coffee, Ben watching the reader and paying attention to what the reader likes- YES!

Because we all know that Ben will say the wrong thing at the wrong time, but he will make it up to the woman he loves. AND BEN putting his hand on the reader's hip to remind himself that he does have her in his life:

Ben’s not stupid.

He's not. And I love that you put this in here, that Ben really isn't a mindless brute, he has a brain, you're so right!

His jokes are always just a little too loud, just a little too offensive, making you cringe even as he smirks, because he knows damn well what he’s doing.

Goodness 🫣 I don't want to think about the jokes, but we all know he has no filter lol.

And despite what everyone says — despite the fact that he probably won’t ever change — you can’t seem to stop yourself from diving headfirst into the madness. Maybe you can’t fix him. But damn if he doesn’t make it worth trying.

YES A MILLION TIMES YES! He's insufferable, but he's worth it. I loved all of this! It was so wonderfully written and so fitting for Soldier Boy. And oh goodness yes, he's also got a choke hold on me as well lol.

Loving Soldier Boy…

Soldier Boy x reader (drabble)

Summary: Just a short n’ (bitter)sweet drabble about what it’s like to love Ben.

Warnings: language, innuendos (c’mon, it’s Ben), mention of violence

Song inspo: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) by Taylor Swift.

Loving Soldier Boy isn’t easy.

You knew Soldier Boy was a handful. Hell, he knows he’s a handful. And you know Ben has never been handled before. Not properly. Not by someone who knows when to push and when to pull, when to hold steady and when to let go.

But you?

You thought you had him figured out.

He’s bad news — at least that’s what everyone keeps telling you.

“That man is not safe” MM says, arms crossed.

“He’s straightdown psychotic” Annie agrees, looking at you like she’s waiting for the spell Ben must have put on you to break.

Hughie just grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you sure about this? Like, really sure?”

Frenchie sighs. “I have seen many dangerous men, mon coeur, but that one?” He shakes his head. “That one is the iceberg that sinks the ship.”

Even Kimiko seems to eye you with pity.

And Butcher — he just tsked.

“That’s a bloody dangerous game you’re about to play, luv.”

But all that didn’t matter.

Not when Ben flashes you that cocky, wolfish grin. Not when he pulls you in with that fiery gaze that makes your pulse stutter. Not when he touches you like you’re the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

He’s a walking contradiction.

He can be crude and crass and violent, but his hands that are scarred and calloused from years of supposed war and bloodshed, are so uncharacteristically gentle when they touch you like he’s terrified of breaking something he doesn’t know how to stitch back together.

And you love it.

You love that you make him hesitate.

That you make him stay.

"Fuck, you’ve ruined me" he murmurs one night, pressing his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips. “You made me a goddamn pussy.”

Loving Soldier Boy is mastering the skill of interpreting nonverbal communication.

You see, Ben isn’t good with words. Not the important ones, anyway.

But he’s fluent in actions.

Like how he always, always keeps a hand on you — your waist, your back, the nape of your neck — like he needs the physical contact to remind himself you’re real and still with him.

Or how, when you’re pissed at him, he won’t apologize outright, but he will fix your coffee just the way you like it, set it down in front of you with a grunt and a pointed look, like There. Happy now?

Or the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you because no matter how much of a dick he is sometimes, the thought of him possibly outliving you haunts him.

He’s an asshole. A menace. A walking disaster.

And yet, when he pulls you into his lap, his fingers threading through your hair, his lips ghosting over yours—

You think maybe he’s worth the trouble.

Loving Soldier Boy is a delicate art.

It’s catching the flicker of rage in his eyes before he explodes, steering him away from the fire instead of into it.

It’s letting him run his mouth, knowing that half the shit he says is just to get a rise out of people, and the other half—

Well.

“Because it was fucking beeping” he answers when you find bullet holes in your microwave.

Ben’s not stupid.

But when he came back from the dead, or, you know, from 40 years of being locked up, you’re starting to realize… he might not be as up to date as he thinks.

You blink. “Because it was beeping?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, leaning back against the counter like he didn’t just pull some absolute batshit nonsense. “Wouldn’t shut the hell up.”

“That’s… literally its job, Ben.”

“Well, now it’s unemployed.” He smirks. “Like half the people I’ve worked with.

Loving Soldier Boy is like wrestling with a live grenade.

Violence isn’t just second nature to Ben — it’s first.

He doesn’t do restraint.

Like the time some guy got a little too close to you at a club and ended up with a broken jaw — because Ben doesn’t do warnings either.

Or the time he punched a cop without even thinking about the consequences.

“To be fair, he was being a dick.”

“He was giving you a parking ticket.”

Ben scoffs. “Exactly.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?” He throws his hands up, all mock innocence. “I told him not to touch my car.”

Loving Soldier Boy is fighting for feminism while actively losing the war.

There’s something infuriating about Ben’s shameless, unapologetic brand of horniness.

His jokes are always just a little too loud, just a little too offensive, making you cringe even as he smirks, because he knows damn well what he’s doing.

And yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

And he knows it.

No matter how many times you glare at him, no matter how often you mutter “Ben, we are in public”, he sees the way your breath hitches, the way your thighs press together when he leans in too close, and he can practically smell the forming pool in your panties.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is low, dripping with amusement. “Don’t act like you don’t love it when I talk dirty to you.”

You glare at him. “You literally just told the bartender that I needed something ‘to keep my mouth occupied.’”

Ben grins. “And I stand by that.”

You fight the urge to groan. “You are insufferable.”

He leans in, his lips just barely brushing against your ear. “But you like me insufferable.”

And fuck.

Maybe you do.

Loving Soldier Boy is realizing you’re the one really losing the fight.

When the team calls you out on his bullshit, you just sit there and listen.

You have no defense.

Because what are you even supposed to say?

He’s trying? (He’s not.)

He didn’t mean to? (He absolutely did.)

He’s a work in progress? (Is he?)

And despite what everyone says — despite the fact that he probably won’t ever change — you can’t seem to stop yourself from diving headfirst into the madness.

Maybe you can’t fix him.

But damn if he doesn’t make it worth trying.

The chokehold this man has on me is insane — help

Also… This sat in my drafts for months, but I gave it a reread and didn’t completely hate it — so here you go. Hope you enjoyed!🤍

xx Pam

[pan-kojiwa]

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ➻ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧?

[Characters] ➻ 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 | 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 | ??? |

[CW] ➻ SFW, stranger to lovers, whipped Kaiser, a bit ooc.

Waffle’s note -> that was long… tbh I didn’t know where I was going with this at some point… I should’ve just made a boyfriend!kaiser *sigh* well anyway, it’s still about cute aggression but with a little bit of obsession??? Also, does it feel like I tried to headcanon my way out of an 2k OS? Yes? Yh me too… it happened twice.. anyways u_u’

❦ 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫

✮ Michael Kaiser was used dealing with malice, to the point it became a second nature to him. After all, it was all he had ever known. Hurting people just came that easily. But everything changed when you showed up, and it’s still the case till this day. Michael Kaiser is mean, arrogant, and overly confident, yet all of that disappears in your presence. In fact, the first time he saw you, he couldn’t even speak. All you did was smile— yet he stood there, stunned. Your smile… so timid, but so bright… it almost blinded him. And your eyes… God. Those innocent sparkles in your eyes when you looked at him… he lost the war before it even began that day. You literally destroyed the thick walls he spent so long building around himself. Yes— the walls that hid the most ugliest parts in him, they got blown up. With just one look. And since then, he’s been craving your gaze— your attention. He’s drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

✮ Kaiser can be really selfish sometimes. From the first time he saw you, he knew he wanted you all for himself. He can’t help it, your entire being is calling to him. It's almost turning into an obsession at this point— and resisting the urge to be all up in your space is becoming hard. He wants to be the only person that you see, just as you're the only one he sees. Your smile when you're happy, your cries when you're sad, your rosie cheeks when you're being shy. Aah—He’s overwhelmed. Feeling so many emotions at once while picturing how cute you are— oh... he would love to have you all to himself.

✮ Kaiser never thought he would become a big, hopeless idiot when in love. Then again, it’s not surprising for someone who spent his life pushing people away and experiencing nothing but hate. But now, being hated, receiving or giving malice, manipulating people… he doesn’t care about any of that. Yeah— It doesn’t matter anymore. All he wants is you. You. The way his name rolls perfectly on your tongue like it was meant for it. The way your ears and nose turns a bright red when he tilts your chin up just to tease you. The way you always take a step back, completely flustered whenever he gets too close—he wants it. He needs it. God no— he craves it. He’s longing for a taste of your love, and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to have you by his side.

✮ Since you’re his first love, or more like the first person he’s allowed himself to love, sometimes he doesn’t quite understand his feelings. Well, he knows it’s love. What he doesn’t understand are the overwhelming urges to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingertips, to hold you in his arms, to grab you and kiss you all over, the urges to bite you just from looking at you smile… He just can’t seem to control himself around you. And he just can’t leave you alone either.

You’re passing by when someone suddenly yanks you into on of the meeting rooms. Luckily, the lights are on, so you could immediately see the face of the culprit.

“Kaiser?! What the fuck!? You scared the shit out of me!”

You quickly push the door closed, just in case someone passes by. You definitely don’t want to get caught in an empty room with one of the players.

Kaiser chuckles with a smirk as he leaned on the table behind him.

“ - Oh really, liebling? My apologies, I didn’t mean to.”

You raise an eyebrow, sceptical. Because from where you stand, he clearly did. Yet, you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

“ - What are you doing here? Aren’t you gonna shower with the others?”

“ - Too crowded.” He replies, stepping closer to you with that playful smirk.

Your heart starts racing, and a faint blush creeps on your cheeks. You instinctively back away, your breath hitching. The door was behind you so you know you’re absolutely not trapped in the room. But with him so close, all up in your space feels like all your senses are being tickled. And not to mention how Kaiser had been acting strange lately. He’s always been a bit pretentious with everyone— even when he was alone— but now it seems like he’s paying extra attention to you. At first, you were thrown off, but the way he treats you like you were the most amazing person in the world makes you curious. Or flattered?

“ - Should I give you the key to the staff bathroom?”

“ - Oh my, I’d like that—only if you come with me.”

You blush furiously, your head dropping as you stare at your shoes, completely flustered.

“ - I—”

Kaiser grabs your chin, carefully lifting your head to meet his gaze. His gaze is intense yet soft on you. You could see his inner conflict swirling in those blue eyes, just like a storm.

“ - I know you were about to go take care of the team… He pauses. But… I wanted you all to myself.” He says bluntly freeing your chin, before taking one of your hand in his. He then gives it a light squeeze lifting towards his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

Your flustered look as well as your fluttering eyes makes him clench his jaw. Why are you making this so much harder for him? Why your little pout drives him mad like this? Why is it so hard— so impossible to resist you?

When he’s around you he can’t seem to control his emotions. So his only option left, is to let you go.

“ - If I make you stay here any longer, I might end up never letting you go.”

He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear and then lets you out of the room, confused and heart pounding hard in your chest

✮ When he sees you, on the bench, wearing a jersey—a little too big for you— with his number and his name, his heart skips a beat. A warm feeling invading all his senses. He can’t see your expression completely from that distance, but he can definitively imagine your sweet lips silently cheering for him as well as your doe eyes, focused on him—full of anticipation for his goal. Suddenly, all he wants is to run to you— grab your head and kiss every inch on your adorable face. Yet he brushes off all this chaos of emotion it with a confident smirk, only sending a flying kiss towards you as he scores a goal for you. He was so close to ditch the whole match just to shower you with kisses.

✮ Kaiser is pretty much an open book once you get to know him. You’re completely aware of how whipped he is for you, even if he still tries to deny how much effect you have on him. The way you nervously play with your hair, or the way your fingers brush against his when you hand him his water battle during the team training— It’s almost ridiculous how it makes him go insane. So much that he can’t believe how much he just wants to hold you in his arms and hide you away.

✮ He likes to scoop you up in his arms. He always says that you look cuter that way but really, you both know it’s just an excuse to hold you in his arms. The way you circle your arms around his neck— pressing your chest tightly against his as your head rests on his shoulder. The way you hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck— oh… He swallows hard, an overwhelming warmth spreading through his entire body. He swallows again as the sensation began to migrate towards his heart. Fuck… it feels like it’s melting. He desperately wants to kiss you… to bite you… you’re so cute to the point he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. If you knew how much his heart is begging for your love right now… would you want him as much as he wants you?

✮ Kaiser always tries to mask what he truly feels with arrogance or confidence— because after all he’s “superior to all those plebeians.” So of course vulnerability isn’t something he comfortable with. He needs complete control over his emotion to feel secure. But it’s impossible with you around. And no matter how hard he tries to resist, he just can’t hide how much your cuteness affects him.

“ - Micheal!”

He turns around as he hears a very familiar voice calling him from afar—your voice. Your beautiful voice. The voice that could bring him down to his knees, even if he tried so hard not to fumble.

The cheerful tone you only use when you see him or when he smiles at you never fails to make his heart burst in flames. He can’t stay away from you, so that probably explains why his feet moved on their own, rushing toward you. And right there, you’re killing him— or more like your expression is. How can you be so cute? Your shy smile—your eyes shining with pure joy and affection— it’s making his heart swell with a softness that he sure isn’t used to—and it’s like a punch in the face.

But he can’t let you see this weak side of him. He can’t possibly let you know that he’s pathetic without you.

“ - Well, well, look who’s back to see this poor, miserable man.”

He stops right in front of you slightly leaning forward.

“ - You make it sound like I abandoned you.” You laugh softly hearing the dramatic tone dripping from his voice. But there’s something else in it—something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“ - Oh, but you did.” He grabs his chest like what you just said hurt him deeply.

“ - Without any pity for my poor soul, you left me all alone for an entire week.” You tilt your head at the tone in his voice. It was back. That sad tone—no, not sad. Sorrow? You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“ - I was sick… sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

The way your voice softened to reassure him, how you’re actually scearching for his gaze to make sure he’s okay, it must have done something to his heart, because before you even know, one of his hand is on your chin, tilting your face toward him. But his touch feels hesitant—because in reality he knows that being so close to you, feeling you skin under his fingertips— this is a risky move—but he couldn’t stop himself.

Your hopeful gaze, the way your lips parts as if you wanted to say something but didn’t—

He’s down bad. He wants to hold you, to hug you and kiss you everywhere. You’re too cute for your own good. His heart is pounding in his chest as if it could burst any minute from now.

But Instead, he simply gives you an enigmatic smile, while his fingers slowly let go of your chin.

“ - It’s okay, mein liebling, you don’t have to apologize. I’m just happy you came back to me.”

And with that, he turns away, glancing at you one last before walking away.

“ - Wait—don’t go!” You grab his arm before he can get too far.

“ - Oh? Can’t live without me already?”

You look down, nervous and unsure, blushing slightly as you bite your inner lip. And something in Kaiser snaps. Something he’s been trying—desperately—to control. He can’t stand it anymore. You’re just too fucking cute, too precious.

“ - Fuck…”

He quickly grab your face, pressing a gentle kiss on one of your cheek, then the other. You then close your eyes as you feel him moving toward your left eye, then the right one.

“ - I need you… I need you so badly in my life. I can’t resist anymore… please…”

Your eyes went wide and you feel your heart swell in happiness— you even tear up from the emotions. Without wasting any more time, you wrap your arms around his head , pulling him into a tight hug with his head resting in the crook your neck, a relieved smile on his face.

Silently, you hug each other.

✮ The way you pout sometimes, when you’re looking for him silently scanning the room with your eyes. And the way they instantly light up when you finally spot him— god you’re so cute. It always makes him want to grab you, bite your shoulder or cover your face with kisses.

✮ The way you only look at him— like the other players don’t even matter. The way you massage his shoulders during breaks to help him relax, while you completely ignore the other players— giving him all your attention. It never fails making him feel like he’s special. Your favorite. God, the way you always run to him first with that sincere and genuine smile of yours, shining so brightly on your face. You’re just so perfect in his eyes. To the point, the only way he can manage to regain control is by nearly choking himself.

✮ He likes to tease you. He noticed how much his teasing fluster you and seeing you blush and whimper like that with your adorable doe eyes when he gets close to you makes his heart explode. And he’s addicted to this sensation.

✮ The way you get jealous is so endearing to him—you’re just like an angry little kitten when fans and random people try to flirt with him. He doesn’t even look at them—because they’re not you after— still, he can see how much it pisses you off. Well it’s fine by him. He gets to have you all for himself right?

You and Kaiser are heading toward the training ground entrance, chatting about you are in such a good mood. Well— until a sudden screech resonated in your ears. Of course it’s yet another fan trying to get his attention, screaming his name and saying all kinds of bullshit about how he can “get it.”

You turn around instantly, glaring daggers at whoever said that. Violence isn't an answer. It's a question— the answer is yes. Fully understanding this quote you prepare yourself to throw hands. But before you can even take a step, Kaiser stops you with a smirk. And, really, he doesn’t fucking know where he finds the strength not to pinch your puffed up— angry cheeks. So damn pretty.

With some convincing, you finally step inside the training ground holding in hand. However, the second you’re out of the public eye, you slam him against the nearest wall, gripping his collar.

“ - When are you going to ask me out?” You hiss, frowning and lips pressed into an adorable pout.

Kaiser smirks chuckling as he tilts his head slightly.

“ - Oh, but Liebling... He then slides his hands on your hips, pulling you closer while lowering his head in the crook of your neck. You feel his teeth faintly grazing your skin before pressing a soft kiss on the same spot. You're already mine.”

[astrcmoni]

just woke up and y’all already pissing me off. i understand that everyone is still upset from the grammys last night, rightfully so, but do not make her personal sadness your comfort.

you can crash out, you can feel some type of way but don’t make it about yourself because you as an individual are not affected by this situation neither positively or negatively. none of us are.

yall do shit like that along with spreading around the images of her crying and then wonder why she doesn’t like to post shit anymore. cause yall do bullshit like that. who the fuck wants to see themselves on the internet crying after not winning a single award for their most rawest and passionate project yet, it’s already being televised live, and after the internet dragged you for your new cut and fit. nobody wants to see that.

this goes for everyone too and i really don’t care if she’s going to see it or not it’s still odd. that’s like saying ‘oh someone just shot billie’s grandpa or someone just burned her house down….make something to where we comfort her through that’…. (just an example cause this ain’t the first time i seen this bs😒)

are you going to heal her grandpa or build her a new house in real life? no, you won’t cause you can’t. like i stated earlier its perfectly okay to be upset on her behalf but this will never hit hard for you like it does her and her brother. they put their entire being, time, efforts, money and so much more into this album. as a community we need to step back, go back to your regularly scheduled program. cause these awards are not definitive to her as an artist nor as a person.

let their loss be what it is and give them the room to handle it and deal with it gracefully.

once again this goes towards everything i’ve been seeing since last night, these are just some examples, no one in specific. but if you feel like this applies to you and the shoe fits, you better wear it.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: All That Matters (Part 3)

Part 4

Even with all of Marshall’s efforts—his reassurance, his presence, the way he went out of his way to make you feel like you were the most important thing in his world—some days were still harder than others.

Like today.

He was back in LA for a few days, and you were home in Detroit, going through the motions. The kids kept you busy, but there was always a moment—usually late at night—when the doubt crept back in.

You had been scrolling through your phone, not meaning to fall down the rabbit hole, but one tap led to another, and suddenly, you were staring at a picture from an afterparty.

Marshall wasn’t doing anything wrong.

But there was a woman beside him—one of those up-and-coming singers, all perfect curves and confidence, leaning in just enough to make your stomach twist.

The comments didn’t help.

She’s bad as hell. Imagine them together.

She’d be an upgrade tbh.

They got chemistry.

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter, your breathing shallow.

You knew better than to believe online bullshit. You knew Marshall loved you.

But after everything… it still got to you.

So when your phone rang, and you saw his name pop up, you didn’t answer.

Then he called again.

And again.

You sighed, finally picking up. “Hey.”

“The fuck?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You tell me,” he shot back. “I been callin’ you for an hour.”

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m just tired, Marshall.”

Silence. Then—

“Nah,” he said lowly. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, debating whether to lie. But before you could, he sighed.

“Baby, don’t do that. Just tell me.”

Your throat tightened. “I saw the pictures.”

He was quiet for a second. Then—“What pictures?”

You swallowed. “You and that girl at the afterparty.”

Marshall groaned. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? That chick talked to me for five minutes about music and people start makin’ shit up. You know how this works.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But it still sucks.”

He sighed heavily. “I shoulda taken you with me.”

You frowned. “Marshall, I couldn’t go.”

“I know,” he muttered. “And that’s the problem.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hate bein’ away from you. I hate that you’re sittin’ at home, doubtin’ yourself, when all I wanna do is be there with you.”

Your heart clenched.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of those women,” he said firmly. “I don’t look at them. You’re the only one I see. And if me bein’ in LA or doin’ this music shit is makin’ you feel otherwise, then maybe I gotta change some shit.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

You frowned. “Marshall, your career is huge. You can’t just—”

“I don’t want it if it’s fuckin’ up my marriage.”

Your breath hitched. “Marshall…”

“I’d give it up tomorrow if it meant you’d never question how much I love you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t want that.”

He exhaled sharply. “Then tell me what you do want. Tell me how to fix this.”

You wiped at your eyes. “I just… I wanna feel like I’m part of your life, not just waiting on the sidelines.”

Marshall was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Then you will be.”

You sniffled. “What does that mean?”

“It means I ain’t leavin’ you home anymore. If I gotta travel, you and the kids come with me. If there’s an event, you’re by my side. Ain’t no more of this ‘waiting at home’ bullshit.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s not realistic—”

“The fuck it ain’t?” he challenged. “Other people do it. And you ain’t just ‘other people,’ baby. You’re my wife.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Then, softer, he murmured, “I need you with me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You inhaled shakily. “Yeah. Okay.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. Now, unlock the door.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The front door. Unlock it.”

Confused, you got up, padding toward the front of the house. You unlocked the door and pulled it open—

And there he was.

Standing on the porch, looking exhausted but so damn there.

Your heart stopped. “You’re supposed to be in LA.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well. My wife needed me.”

Tears slipped down your face as he pulled you into his arms, his grip so tight it left no room for doubt.

You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in, letting his presence melt away every insecurity, every fear.

Marshall pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I got you,” he murmured. “Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed him.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

WIP Weekend WIP Snip Share!

Didn't have time to do any WIP games this weekend, but here's a bit I've written for my Steddie (-Jonathan) fic. Because I thought, "huh, you know what this steddie angst fic needs? A Stobin fight."

Enjoy (or... you know)

~~~

Context: As Robin finally convinced Steve to tell Eddie how he feels, they're shocked when they go back to the party and find Jonathan and Eddie making out on the couch.

“Everyone’s gone home,” Robin consoles, tone grating against his skin. He doesn’t need her pity, or anyone else’s. Besides, Steve wouldn’t even be in this mess if it wasn’t for her. Meddling in his love life has never worked out for Steve in the past, and he doesn’t understand why he convinced himself it would be different this time just because it was Robin.

Because why would anyone, let alone someone like Eddie, be interested in dating Steve Harrington, King of Assholes and Jocks. Compared to someone like Jonathan, someone who is so clearly a better match for Eddie, Steve brings nothing to the table.

He laments himself for believing anything she ever said about how Eddie apparently looks at him when his head’s turned, or how he always goes out of his way to make Steve laugh. None of it was real. It was all just lies. Bullshit.

“Then why are you still here?” It’s colder than he meant. Steve can already feel the crown sliding back into place. It’s sickening how much he misses it, an old, awful comfort he worked so hard to shed. And yet, it feels so fucking good to wear it again. 

If only it wasn’t Robin.

Heavy silence weighs against him. It’s not the response he expected. People always have a reaction when they meet King Steve– whether it’s disdain from the kids he tormented, pride from his asshole friends, or disappointment from people like Nancy. 

Steve still hasn’t turned around, his back to the door Robin had come through to find him. The inability to read her eats at his nerves. He denies the sharp urge to look at her– to consume and study every twitch of her mouth, every crinkle of her eyes– to know what she’s thinking right now. But that would mean giving her the same opportunity which is something Steve can absolutely not allow her.

The crown is a cold comfort if yet still a bit ill fitting. It’s been too long since Steve’s had to wield it as a sword and shield to fend off the people closest to him. He’s forgotten how. It wobbles on his head no matter how hard he clings to it. The heat of shame still stings behind his eyes. Steve hates it. So he clings to the anger, if he can’t cling to anything else.

He’s ripped from his seething by a firm hand on his shoulder. Robin’s next to him now, appearing almost out of nowhere. Steve wonders how long the silence lingered, if she said anything to him as he was stuck in the swirl of ruminating thoughts.

“Steve, look at me.”

Brushing her hand off his shoulder, Steve storms across the kitchen. She can’t look at him, she can’t see him. He can’t talk to her with all the shit clogging his throat. It’s all bubbling up inside him, the way it always does, thoughts and feelings he can’t name or pin down long enough to examine, not that he’d ever want to in the first place. Robin needs to leave before it bursts from him like a monster crawling through a hole in the ceiling, ready to hurt anyone in its path. Like a stupid, bigoted boy willing to throw a punch in an alleyway.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

[celenexox]

Just another Picture to Burn - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your boyfriend matt cheats on you, but you couldn’t care less

warnings: breakup, swearing, minor violence

as matt walks into the house, you walk over to him and slap him across the face, chris and nick watching this unravel behind the two of you in shock

five minutes before this happened, you were called to the living room by your friends nick and chris

as you walk over to them coming out of matt’s room you hear chris say “y/n there’s something we have to show you”

nick and chris look worried, scared almost, you chuckle a little at the look of their worried faces, not knowing what’s about to come next

“what’s up guys? what’s up with the frowns?” you say, trying to lighten up the mood

as you walk over to them, chris hands you his phone, on it, a picture of your boyfriend matt, kissing another girl

you couldn’t believe your eyes, didn’t know how to react, what should you say?

“when was this?…” you say, barely above a whisper

“three days ago” nick answers softly

“okay, how do you know, maybe this was before we got together” you say to chris and nick, but honestly you’re just trying to convince yourself of that right now

you and matt have been dating for only three months, which is not that long, so that picture could have been taken before that, right?

“n- no y/n, this was three days ago, he was wearing that shirt three days ago, and that’s the day he went to that party without us” nick says

“he went to a party without us, without me? he doesn’t even enjoy parties” you say, trying to keep your composure

“okay so where is matt right now.” you demand to know, your whole demeanor has changed, you can’t let your friends think that you’re upset, that you’re weak, matt doesn’t deserve you like that for him

“he’s gonna be home any minute now, don’t tell him for now okay?” chris asks of you

“why not? i deserve to know more about what happened from him, not his brothers, he cheated on me! does that not seem insane to you??” you raise your voice at chris

suddenly, you’re interrupted by the door opening, matt walks in

you, nick, and chris are now all staring at him

you look at nick and chris before walking up to matt, sort of a warning

matt looks at you walk up to him quietly, confused at what’s happening

then suddenly you slap him across the face, creating a loud sound and a gasp from nick and chris

you’ve never laid a hand on matt before, and you didn’t think you would ever have to

“what the fuck? y/n, guys, what happened” matt says, still confused, his audacity and the fact that he hasn’t caught up yet surprising you

you walk away from matt, snatch chris’s phone out his hand and shove it in matt’s face with the picture still up

“this is what happens you bitch!” you say loudly, “how could you cheat on me! we’ve literally only been dating for three months you pig!”

matt’s face now red as a tomato, almost speechless and trying to gather up the right words to say in this situation “okay y/n i can explain”

“save it you bitch! i never want to see you again, im out, we’re done!” you say, and grab your things and head out

——————————————————————

it has now been two weeks since the two of you had broken up, and to be honest with yourself you weren’t that upset that he was out of your life, the only thing that really upset you was the fact that he wasted your time

and also ever since you and matt broke up, you haven’t spoken a single word to your friends nick and chris either, not because you’re mad at them, but because you’d be reminded of matt every time you’d see them, and you didn’t want that right now

suddenly you were bursted out of your thoughts with a knock on the door

you got up and opened the door, it was matt

you chuckle at the fact that he showed up here, no shame, no remorse for what happened between the two of you

“what the fuck are you doing here matt?” you say with a blank tone, you didn’t like the idea of matt being here at your house

“i messed up okay? and i miss you, i promise if you take me back i’ll never fuck up like this ever again” he says, all desperate sounding

you look him up and down a few times, “there’s no way you think that i think that little of myself, matt the pictures were everywhere, of you kissing another girl, that’s not me, while we were together”

“yeah i know but-“

you cut matt off

“let me finish, I’m never gonna make the same mistake again, you were just a waste of effort, i could have done so much more things with the time that i spent on you, now get the fuck out” you say and slam the door in his face

you knew that you never wanted to see him again, you realized that he loved himself and the thrill of a new girl more than he could ever just love you

you didn’t care what happened after this, you knew that he was just another picture to burn.

[schrijverr]

I Know That, because I Married Him for It

Divergence from chapter 20, where Chimney finds out Buck and Eddie are married from a high Eddie and then has to deal with keeping it secret; an impossible task for him.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warning: non consensual drug use

~~~

Maddie has just carted Buck off in her car, which had been more trouble than Chimney expected, since him and Eddie have apparently become conjoined under the influence of whatever drug is in their system right now.

However, the two of them succeeded …leaving him with a now crying Eddie. Great.

Chimney very much did not sign up to be a tripsitter – well, maybe he had being a paramedic and all, but still – and it has been more stressful than expected. Though that can be attributed to it being his friends and colleagues that were drugged with an unknown substance by an unknown assailant at an unknown time somewhere today.

Anyway, that is not for Chimney to worry about. Chimney needs to worry about Eddie being okay until his aunt can come pick him up. And right now Eddie is crying, which means Chimney will have to do something about that.

He gingerly makes his way over to Eddie and sits down next to. Despite how he was draped over Buck earlier, Chimney doesn’t touch him, just sits close enough for Eddie to know he’s there. With the state he’s in, he doesn’t want to accidentally trigger him.

“Hey, buddy, how are we doing?” he asks.

“Badly,” Eddie says, before starting to cry harder.

Right now Chimney really wishes Maddie would have taken longer to be here, since Buck’s high had been gentle until they had to separate the two and he was the only person that was stopping Eddie from crying. Chimney is pretty okay with people crying from the pain, not great with people crying because of emotions. He’s awkward, alright!

“Well, I know it’s scary, but you’re gonna be okay.” Chimney pats Eddie on the back, since Eddie is tilting towards him until their knees are touching.

“No, it’s not. You took Buck,” Eddie pouts. “And I’m not gonna be able to see Chris again. I miss him.” Then he starts crying again.

Okay, Chimney knew Buck and Eddie had become fast friends in the past few months, but this is ridiculous. Still, Eddie is in distress and Chimney is trying to keep him calm. They’ve made more than enough of a scene already.

So, he tries to soothe him again: “I know, Eddie, I know. But you’ll see them soon.”

It doesn’t really help and Eddie continues to cry. Chimney is looking out over the parking lot desperately, trying to see if a car comes pulling in with a woman that looks like she could potentially be Eddie’s aunt. No dice.

“Uh, I can tell you some stories about Chris and chickens? Would that help?” Chimney asks, because it seemed to help when Buck did it. Eddie doesn’t answer, so he tries: “So, uhm, Chris was on a farm and there was this chicken named Betty. They were the best-”

“No!” Eddie cuts him off, shaking his head stubbornly as he scowls: “That didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chimney replies, a little annoyed. Why did it work when Buck did it, but not when he does it?

“No,” Eddie says again, god, he really is pig headed, why didn’t Chimney notice that before. “Buck told me things that happened. You don’t.”

“How can Buck have told you things that happened?” Chimney exclaims. “He was talking about Chris and chickens, don’t tell me you two went to a chicken farm recently.” Is is childish to argue with the drugged person about this? Maybe. However, Chimney has had a stressful day, okay?

“Of course not,” Eddie actually sounds offended. “You’re doing it wrong.” He is at least not crying anymore, instead pouting as he defends Buck’s storytelling over Chimney’s. “Buck was talking about the Johnson farm.”

“You two actually went to a farm?” Chimney exclaims, because what the fuck is his life becoming, this just can’t be real.

“Yeah, Buck worked there, dumbass,” Eddie tells him. “It’s where he met Chris.”

“No, Buck met Chris at the hospital after your grandma had a fall. That was pretty recently. Don’t you remember that?” Chimney knows that sometimes the best move is to go along with delusions or confusion, but right now he wants to be sure Eddie is actually okay and memory loss is a scary thing to happen. Fuck, why did he let Hen and Buck out from under his supervision?

Eddie is oblivious to this and in a know-it-all manner he says: “No, he didn’t. Buck met Chris on the farm, because he was watching him. I know that, because I married him for it.”

Chimney chokes on his spit and starts coughing. He knows people say all sort of things while high, but holy shit Eddie sounds way to confident about that one. “What?” he finally manages to push out of his throat.

Now Eddie is looking at him with confusion as if he is the weird one. “What what?”

“You married Buck?” Chimney asks, still a bit breathless and red in the face.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, then he leans in and whispers: “But you’re not allowed to tell anyone. It’s a secret. Shhhhh,” he places a finger to his lip as he does that.

“Buck is your husband?” Chimney says, voice distorted by the finger still pressed to his lips.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie hums happily, pulling back. He smiles for a moment, before his lip wobbles again and his voice sounds very sad when he whispers: “I miss him.” Then he bursts out into tears all over, burying his head in his hands.

What the fuck.

Chimney is honestly so thrown off by everything Eddie just said that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, because none of that makes sense. Eddie and Buck? Married? He knows they’re friends, but they just met. He was there for that!

But here Eddie is, crying about missing his husband, whom he apparently met at a chicken farm and who is Buck. Like probie, has been there for a year never mentioned having any family, Buck. It doesn’t make any sense to Chimney.

He wraps an arm around Eddie, letting him lean his head on his shoulder, while his face still carries a bewildered expression. What is today. What is his life.

Eddie sadly murmurs into his shoulder: “I wanna see Buck and Chris now. I don’t wanna be all alone again. I had to be alone away from them in the army and it sucked. I don’t wanna do that again. I never wanna do that again. Why did you make Buck go?”

And he sounds so fucking sad that Chimney has to push his bewildered-ness down, so he can squeeze Eddie’s shoulder and shush: “I’m sorry, Eddie, but you’ll see both of them soon. You need to get this stuff out of your system, it’s not safe to leave you alone, so I called your aunt, because I didn’t know. If you said, I could have let you go with Maddie.”

Chimney honestly doesn’t know why Maddie didn’t say anything and just struggled with him to get the two separated.

Almost as soon as that question pops into his brain, Eddie’s starts shaking his head. “No. No, Maddie doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t?” Chimney can’s help, but exclaims, because what. It is already wild information that he doesn’t know what to do with, but hey, keeping your relationship out of the work place isn’t too crazy, but Maddie doesn’t know? Buck’s sister doesn’t know. Is she homophobic? Chimney didn’t think so, but he’s only met her a few times now. That would suck.

“No one knows. It’s a secret,” Eddie tells him, giving him big eyes and putting on the most important voice he’s capable of.

Chimney freezes.

No one knows?

The implications of that hit him. He might be straight, but he’s been friends with Hen and Karen for a long time, stood as best man at their wedding, witnessed how the 118 talked to her before Bobby took over. No one knowing means Chimney has to keep this secret.

Fuck!

“Uhm, okay. It’s a secret,” Chimney agrees, voice a little faint. He can do this, right? Yeah, he can totally keep this secret… He hopes.

“Hmm, secret,” Eddie nods. Then he looks over to the side, distracted by some of the kids from the pageant running around, while their moms tried to prevent skinned knees, Chimney doesn’t get it, but Eddie seems to take something different from it, saying: “I miss Chris.” And it doesn’t surprise Chimney in the slightest when he then breaks down again.

Unwilling to have more knowledge unwillingly dropped on him that he’ll then have to keep secret, Chimney lets him cry as he holds him without saying anything to invoke a reaction. God, he hopes Eddie’s aunt comes soon.

Fifteen minutes later, his prayer is answered. A car pulls up and a severe looking woman with black hair steps out, immediately zeroing in on Eddie and walking over. Once she is sufficiently close enough to loom over them, she crosses her arms and shakes her head: “… Edmundo.”

Eddie looks up and blinks a few times, tears still in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees the woman, despite her expression. “Tía Pepa!”

Pepa’s face soften and she nods to her car: “Let’s get going, mijo.”

Almost instantly, Eddie starts to move and Chimney quickly catches up, helping him up, because despite his determination, his coordination is less than stellar right now. He wants to be polite and say hi to Pepa, but Eddie is moving, so Chimney supports him all the way to the car.

Thankfully, Pepa opens the door for them, even though she lets Chimney do most of the heavy lifting, while she just tuts at Eddie and scolds him for not being more careful and that he has Chris to think about.

Wrong thing to say of her, but she hasn’t been there, so Chimney forgives her as Eddie starts crying again while Chimney buckles him in.

Once Eddie is seated, Chimney straightens up and finally extends his hand to Pepa: “I’m Chimney, Eddie’s coworker. There was an unknown substance he must have come into contact with. He’s not the only one, but with the symptoms observed, he doesn’t need to go to a hospital. He’s just high, essentially. Uhm, so you just have to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s okay, get him to drink water if you can. Thank you for coming to pick him up, I can’t imagine that call was what you were hoping for today.”

“Pepa,” she introduces herself, before amusedly scoffing: “And I’m just glad you kept my nephew out of trouble. I’ll watch over him, don’t worry. I have time.”

In the background Eddie sobs again and Chimney cringes: “Thank you, uhm, the crying has been kind of normal.”

“He misses Chris, I get it. He always does,” Pepa says, giving him a sharp smile. “I’ll call Carla to watch Chris, since I don’t think Eddie would want him to see him until it’s out of his system, even if he misses him. How long do you think it will last?”

“I can’t give hard numbers, but most of the time trips last between 9 and 12 hours. So, he’ll be okay by tomorrow for sure,” Chimney tells her.

“Alright. Thank you and nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too. Good luck, have a good day!”

Pepa just smiles and nods at him, before getting in her car. Chimney watches as she swats Eddie’s hand away from the radio, then cards a quick hand through his hair, before pinching his cheek. With that done, Eddie calms a little and she pulls out of the parking lot, leaving Chimney behind.

For a moment, he just stands there as everything all comes crashing down on him again. Holy shit, his coworkers just got drugged. What the fuck!

Chimney deflates slightly, the stress of suddenly being responsible for all his coworkers on a call washing off him now that he’s handed over the last one to someone else. He’ll have to drive the ambulance and truck back to the station somehow and stay behind until they can get a full shift back at the house, not to mention give a statement, but at least no one got seriously hurt.

There were no overdoses, no bad reactions – either allergies, bad trips or meds that shouldn’t mix – and he has a text from Athena saying Bobby is okay. Chimney kept everyone alive.

He lets out a deep breath and rubs his face.

He allows himself one moment, then pops a piece of gum in his mouth and makes his way back inside to get all the gear sorted out.

The 125 had been called in to deal with the shoe in face incident instead and there are fortunately still some of them there, so Chimney gets the Captain to lend one of his people out to help Chimney drive the two vehicles back to the station. Chimney gets the feeling this won’t be the last time someone asks what the hell happened.

Once everything is sorted and the guy from the 125 is back to his own house, Chimney flops onto the couch. He is exhausted. Cops will come by later to take his statement and all the food has been confiscated, which sucks, but at least there won’t be any calls.

As he lies there, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Karen has send him some videos of Hen, which are hilarious and they’re so going to make fun of her for that later. Athena only sends him a curt text back, which is understandable. He didn’t give Pepa his number, so nothing from her, but Maddie did text him that Buck’s gentle high has become an emotional one and they’re on the couch with ice cream.

Chimney thinks to himself: understandable, we took him away from his husband. He is about to text a joke back when he remembers it’s a secret. It honestly doesn’t feel completely real yet that Buck and Eddie are married, but Eddie seemed adamant.

And now Chimney knows.

And no one else.

Looking back on his conversation with Pepa, he realizes that she never mentioned Buck at all, just Chris. Seems like Eddie wasn’t lying about no one knowing. If it’s real at all.

He doesn’t know if he should take high Eddie’s word as gospel, but it also seems like a wild and random thing to lie about. Like even if Eddie has a crush on Buck, jumping to being married seems excessive. And why the chicken story? How did that just happen? No, it definitely has some basis of truth.

It has a basis of truth and it’s a secret. A secret that goes deep. They didn’t tell their families, they didn’t tell Bobby, Buck never mentioned it all his entire probie year, even if he’s a chronic over-sharer. Hell, they played out a first meeting on Eddie’s first day. They had a spat.

Buck and Eddie are married and have gone to great lengths to hide that fact and now Chimney know it too. This is going to end terribly.

First, Chimney can’t keep secrets for shit, so this is impossible. Secondly, this is really something HR should be informed about. Eddie can’t work with Buck in his probie year. Chimney would think they’d lied for that, were it not for neither Maddie and Pepa knowing.

So, now here he is. With no clue what to do. He can’t go to Maddie to talk about it, because that would be outing him to her, which is bad. Even telling Hen or Bobby would be outing them and bad, because one is their boss, so don’t share sensitive information with him, especially because this might get them fired, and Hen is their coworker as well.

He should just wait for Buck and Eddie to ride out this high, then go to them about it. That is the best course of action. They can decide what to do with Chimney knowing and the likely limited time he can keep it to himself.

Fuck, why did he have to find this out! Unfair. Chimney has a stressful enough life with working as a paramedic/firefighter, he doesn’t need big coworker secrets on top of this.

Like, is he now complicit in them lying to HR? Do they even know they can get into serious trouble for this? Or will they be able to claim obliviousness and it’s only Chimney who will go down for this?!

Okay, no, breathe. You’re going to talk to them, explain to them why this is a bad idea and that they have to come clean before he accidentally does it, apologize in advance for doing that, and then it will all be fine.

It’ll be fine.

It’s totally gonna be fine.

…

God, Chimney hates this!

He tosses and turns a little on the couch as his mind whirs without being able to calm down. He is almost grateful to the police coming to take his statement, because that’s a distraction he can use right now. However, not blurting out what Eddie confessed when recounting their behavior is a struggle and he dreads the coming few days.

Beyond that he texts Maddie some but that’s a minefield, tries to beat Hen’s high score on the pin ball machine, then sulkily plays firetruck simulator when he can’t, as well as naps a bit.

Still, despite not answering any calls, since it’s just him at the firehouse, he is exhausted when B shift comes back in to take over for him.

When he gets home, he has a text from Maddie saying Buck has moved from crying it out to sleeping it off. So, Chimney tells her that despite usually knowing better, he’s going to follow her brother’s example, which gets him some laughing emojis back. With that he drops into bed and knocks out, hoping he’s forgotten today when he wakes up.

After a good amount of sleep for all of them and a drug test for most of them, they’re all back for a shift.

Chimney is both looking forward to it and deeply dreading it.

Bobby has come in early and hidden away, a clear message that he does not want to discuss it. But Hen is right there to be made fun off, which Chimney needs to blow off jitters and nerves, because if he is teasing her, he can’t be talking about Buck and Eddie.

Luckily, it’s Hen and she knows him, so she takes like a champ. She sniffs: “I’m not embarrassed about being filled with love, Chim.”

“According to Karen love is not the only thing you wanted to be filled with,” Chimney says gleefully.

“Oh shut up!”

“What are we talking about?” Buck asks as he and Eddie come walking up, both looking better than the last time Chimney saw them. Which isn’t that hard admittedly, since both were crying said last time.

“Nothing!” Hen exclaims, not necessarily embarrassed, but happy to have an out from the teasing to focus on Buck and Eddie instead.

Chimney would have happily teased her in front of Buck and Eddie, had it not been Buck and Eddie who just arrived. Together, he notes. Did they arrive in one car from their shared home? Or are they still keeping it up, even though he knows?

Neither of them seem nervous or looking at him anxiously and they haven’t texted him. What are they thinking? It seems like only he is panicking, since Hen is oblivious and either Buck and Eddie are phenomenal actors or they don’t care as much.

To distract further from herself, Hen asks: “Did both of you get everything out of you system alright?”

Buck blushes a bright red at that and throws himself on the couch, groaning loudly: “I embarrassed myself so much. After all my efforts to do dumb shit like this when Maddie couldn’t see, this had to happen to me. I’m never going to eat anything I didn’t see prepared.”

“What did you do?” Hen asks curiously.

Now Buck looks away and mutters: “Nothing.” Suspicious. Did he accidentally tell Maddie? Is Chimney no longer alone in this?

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie tries to comfort him. Does Eddie not know? Is that why both are not looking at him, because Buck didn’t tell Eddie and Eddie didn’t tell Buck? Should Chimney be worried about that? But then why isn’t Eddie looking at him.

“You weren’t there,” Buck grouches, crossing his arms. “I had to wrestle for control to get those videos deleted.”

“And what about you, Eddie? Spill anything to your aunt?” Chimney finds himself asking, biting the inside of his cheek to not ramble on more.

“Uh, no?” Eddie frowns, now looking at Chimney, but only being confused, nothing else. “Did I say something weird to you? It’s honestly a bit of a blur.”

Fuck, does Eddie not remember telling Chimney? That is even worse! Noooo! How could this happen to him? What does he do now!?

Floundering for a second, Chimney goes: “To me? Weird? No, no, of course not. Nothing weird said to me, no, sir. I- I am not knowing of anything weird. At all. I just- I gotta go.”

Chimney can’t do this, he spins on his heel and quickly walks away. Where? He does not know, but that doesn’t matter, he needs to be somewhere other than here. As he leaves, he hears Eddie ask: “Did I so something?” but he doesn’t care. Eddie did do something. He ruined Chimney’s life, he just doesn’t remember it.

He walks until he’s in the locker room, then decides this is far away enough to have a freak out.

Okay, so… Eddie might not remember telling Chimney this very big important secret. That is Bad, very bad. Fuck. What does he do? What is the plan?

Alright, Chimney, think. Eddie doesn’t know you know this, so Buck doesn’t either. They are oblivious as is the rest of the 118. It can remain that way. If he just keeps his mouth shut, they can pass this by without anything changing, it’s not his secret to tell anyway, so he should just keep it.

But they might get in trouble with HR. But is that Chimney’s problem? Maybe he can say he didn’t know when it comes out, that could work. But he also is a bad liar. But he can claim not being a dick and not wanting to out his coworkers, or say he thought it had been approved. Yeah, that could work. Chimney can totally make that work.

He nods to himself, glad to have made the decision. He is just about to rejoin everyone when Hen pokes her head around the door of the locker room. She asks: “Is everything okay? You just kind of ran away from Eddie, did something happen?”

“Me? Not okay? Of course I’m okay,” Chimney grins awkwardly. Okay, so maybe his acting casual skills need some work, but he’s trying!

“Chim,” Hen raises her brow at him with a tone that says: ‘you’re not fooling me, something is up and you better tell me right now.’

“Hen,” Chimney replies, hoping his tone conveys: ‘I know you know something and that you also know that I know that you know that I know something, however, for my sake, please do not ask me more.’

They stare at each other for a few seconds in a stand off, neither of them budging. Then Hen goes: “Alright, keep you secrets.”

“I know that’s a Lord of the Rings quote! You do pay attention when I force you to watch movies with me,” Chimney crows, both delighted at winning the stand off and at the confirmation that Hen does pay attention, even when she complains.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “just don’t come crying to me when whatever is going on, goes wrong.”

“I won’t,” Chimney promises, even though he’s not sure he’ll keep it and Hen knows it. Luckily, he doesn’t get called out on it, because the alarm starts to ring and they have to get their asses into gear instead.

Being on a call with Buck and Eddie isn’t much better. He continuously notices how close they are, the way their shoulders always bump together, the way they wordlessly communicate, the little glances and looks they give each other.

However, being on a call is a distraction, which is better than nothing. Focusing on a patient always puts him in a different mindset and he can ignore the Buck and Eddie show for a bit.

It’s worse to have down time. Chimney realizes very quickly his acting skills are worse than he thought and acting casual is practically not an option for him. Whenever he is around either Buck or Eddie for too long, he starts rambling, before having to remove himself from the situation.

Still, Buck and Eddie don’t have to make it so hard on him! He had already noticed they were close, but now he is just way too aware of the massive heart eyes they keep giving each other. Like, if they were keeping their marriage secret, could they at least act less sappy, in love around each other? For Chimney’s sake.

Less than a week has passed since their first shift back on after the drugging and Chimney is slowly losing it.

They’re back on today and Buck and Eddie are playing pool together. One could say they were shit talking each other, but Chimney couldn’t describe it as anything other than flirting. Badly flirting at that. God, they’re made for each other, he thinks disgusted. Why does he have to be lonely? It’s so unfair.

Apparently, he has been as unsubtle as Buck and Eddie have been, because Hen throws her hands up and exclaims: “Okay, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Wha?” Chimney blinks as everyone turns to look at her.

Hen places a hand on her hip and says: “You have been acting weird around Buck and Eddie since the drugging, just tell everyone what happened and put us all out of our misery! I can’t take this anymore.”

“Me? Weird? I’m not weird, I’m like so normal. I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hen,” he chuckles nervously, already glancing around for his best exit strategy.

“Chimney, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t-”

“Eddie told me him and Buck are married!” It bursts out of his mouth, the pressure becoming too much as he cracks under it. Immediately he cringes and slaps his hands over his mouth. He did not want to tell anyone like this. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone at all!

“What?” Hen shrieks, clearly, this is not what she thought he’d say.

He squints slightly, chancing a peak at Buck and Eddie, who are completely frozen next to the pool table, staring at Chimney with horror.

Hen whirls around to where Buck and Eddie are, repeating loudly: “What!”

“Uh… Eddie was lying?” Buck offers after a few seconds, the answer sounding more like a question, as if he is asking them to believe his lie.

“No, he wasn’t,” Chimney frowns, because he can’t have been. One, Buck is clearly lying right now, and two, Chimney did not torture himself for a week for it to not be true now.

“I have no clue what you are talking about,” Eddie says, sounding a little more believable than Buck does.

“You don’t?” Chimney starts doubting himself again. Buck did have that hook up phase, he wouldn’t do that if he was married, right? Maybe it was just a hallucination and that’s why Pepa never mentioned Buck, because it’s not real.

Oh god, what if it’s not real?

“I just- You sounded very sure of yourself,” Chimney stutters, feeling a bit like a fool now. “I mean, Buck was talking about Chris and chickens and then you mentioned you two meeting on a chicken farm, uh, the Johnson farm, I think it was.”

“How do you know about the John-” Buck cuts himself off as Eddie elbows him in the side and he clears his throat and says: “I mean, huh, Johnson farm. Don’t know it.”

Eddie face palms at the words and Chimney is now pretty confident that Eddie hadn’t been lying about the being married thing. Which is so much more confusing now. Just why couldn’t Eddie have kept his mouth shut? Why must Chimney go through this?

“You two better start talking right now,” Hen tells both of them, her eyes daring them to deflect or deny again.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “so me and Buck are married.”

“How long?”

“Uh,” Eddie thinks for a second, looking at Buck, who fills in: “Two years. Give or take, little more give than take.”

Eyes nearly fall out of both Chimney’s and Hen’s sockets. Chimney half assumed that it was a recent thing, maybe an impulsive marriage, post-Buck’s hook up phase at least, but two years? Uh, jikes, dude. Chimney and Hem exchange a glance.

Naturally, Eddie chooses this moment to become observant and suspicious back, asking: “What was that glance about?”

Chimney and Hen exchange another glance, before Chimney delicately says: “Uh, the- the two years is a bit of, uhm, a surprise? Uh, since- since neither of you acted very married.” He coughs. “I mean, especially Buck, uhm, during his probie year.”

Realization dawns on Buck’s face and Chimney really hopes he isn’t going to see the start of a divorce right now. He’s been put through enough.

“Oh, you mean the Buck having sex thing?” Eddie says, realization also hitting him. He sounds very casual about it and neither know if that is a good thing.

“That is not what you think!” Buck quickly exclaims, waving his hands about as he does. “That is so not what you think or what it looks like. Me and Eddie aren’t married like that. I wasn’t cheating on him, I swear.”

They look over to Eddie to confirm. Eddie doesn’t look very pleased, but he manages a smile to them as he explains: “It’s a marriage of convenience. Me and Buck are friends, just legally married for Chris’s benefit.”

Chimney’s voice is a little higher than normal due to the relief as he says: “Oh, that’s- that’s good. Really good.”

“Uh-huh,” Hen agrees. “So, how did that happen? And why the fuck did you lie about that?”

Now it’s Buck and Eddie’s turn to give each other a look, making a few facial expressions at one another before they seem to reach a consensus.

“Well, I worked at a chicken farm in El Paso and I met Chris there with Shannon, his mom. We kind of hit it off and I started babysitting,” Buck starts.

Eddie sees their question coming and interjects: “Me and Shan were already divorced then.”

“Oh, yeah, important detail,” Buck says sheepishly, before continuing: “Anyway, I babysat a lot, Eddie came back from tour, then Shan left to take care of her mom – long story, kind of shitty of her – but then I met Eddie, helped out more with Chris. Chris needed more surgery. Surgery is expensive. Eddie went back in the army. We got married so I could adopt Chris and look after him while Eddie was on tour. That’s kind of the spark notes.”

That is a lot of information to process and Chimney has a head start in the processing department. It is honestly the most Buck and Eddie move that the explanation makes almost less sense. But of course, these two are married as friends, because Buck dated Eddie’s ex-wife and then just hung around to help with the kid after she left. Somehow that makes perfect sense for him.

What is his life at this point?

Next to him, Hen seems to have processed most of what they just told them – there are still a thousand questions to be asked, but they at least have the basics – and is sharp enough to ask: “And what about my other question? Why did you two lie?”

Both Buck and Eddie look a little embarrassed about it with Eddie looking away with red ears, while Buck rubs the back of his head again.

“Uh, well, we wanted to work together,” Buck finally says. “It says no romantic partners in your probie year, but me and Eddie aren’t romantic, right, so then it doesn’t apply. But then we were thinking, when you know someone, people ask questions about how you know them and then the story would have come out and it’s a bit complicated and stuff. So, uh, we decided to lie.”

“Of fucking course you two did,” Hen sighs, taking off her glasses for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Are you mad?” Buck asks, voice small. It never ceases to amaze Chimney just how vulnerable Buck can sound.

Instantly Hen melts a little, putting her glasses back on as she smiles: “Of course I’m not mad, Buck, just wrapping my head around it all.”

“Sorry,” Buck says and, hey! Why does Hen get a sorry? Chimney has been keeping this secret for a whole week, doesn’t he deserve credit for that? He was suffering!

“It’s okay,” Hen reassures him.

Then Eddie asks: “So, what is gonna happen now? You know, now that you know? Are you going to do something with it?”

“Oh no, definitely not. I’m not meddling more in this nonsense,” Hen says without skipping a beat and she is so right for that.

They look to Chimney, who says: “Yeah, no, I already went through enough for that secret, I’m not putting myself through more.”

Both Buck and Eddie seem to sag a little in relief, then Hen pulls the rug out from under them: “But you two gotta tell Bobby. He needs to know about this. Just in case.”

“What? No!” Buck exclaims horrified.

“Hen, please don’t make us do that,” Eddie begs.

Chimney can already tell by the way Hen is standing that she isn’t going to change her mind and he cackles loudly; vindication for his suffering! Maybe being forced into tripsitting everyone, isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to him.

~~

A/N:

Do I get frustrated with season 4!Chimney for keeping that secret from Buck? Yes, I do. Was it also fucking hilarious? Yes, it was xp

[swampthingking]

andrew’s definitely gotten in trouble with his pr manager for tweeting things along the lines of:

“no mania inducing medication will compare to the euphoria i will feel the day donald trump drops dead”

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[bruciemilf]

I think I'm gonna die soon if I don't talk abt Martha and her brothers

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[dailyautophagy]

I can’t imagine being so young I need an audience to feel real

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[halfricanloveyou]

“hey so we’re gonna need you to focus up and pay attention and not talk for 3 hours straight. and no you can’t look at your phone or ask brief questions or think out loud and 98% of what will be said won’t apply to you.”

“also i know you have adhd and that you said your adderall wore off but so do i. you just have to learn.”

do you seriously think i am capable of that. what if i blew you up with a cool wizard beam attack? what if the beam was purple.

[apathyfairy]

if i read through my old notes or my old posts from like 3 years ago i’m like. who is that like that person is dead. who even am i anymore like i have lost all sense of self at this point