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hellvst · 26 days ago

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OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 5.4k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; longer chapter update! let's just say...i had fun writing this one scene for the upcoming chapters lol. not proof-read but i will later. also check out the playlist i've made for this fic! happy reading! <3

CHAPTER SIX

SYDNEY

The moment my foot stepped inside the arena, a wave of nostalgia hit me so hard it nearly knocked the breath out of me.

The sharp, crisp scent of ice, the faint sound of blades cutting through the rink, the soft hum of chatter from the skaters–it was all the same.

Home. That was what this place had once been to me.

It was weird thinking of it that way, but in truth, that was the only word to describe it.

I swallowed, trying to push down the rush of reminiscence. It’s been years, you should be used to this by now.

It wasn’t that long ago when I finally mustered up the courage to bring myself back to this arena–or to any rink really. I don’t know why I’ve pulled myself away from it. Perhaps it was feelings like this that I wanted to avoid.

Disappointment. Sadness. Regret.

I was only avoiding the inevitable. I just needed to stop moping around and grow a pair of pants. But, how could I?

When the one thing that defined me, that thing that gave me a sense of purpose, the fire that fueled me was suddenly gone–it felt like a wave of water putting it all out. And now, I was just drowning.

For a long time, I let myself stay underwater. I ignored competitions, unfollowed my former teammates, avoiding every reminder that skating had ever been part of me.

I tried convincing myself that I could move on, that I didn’t need it. And for a while, I almost believed it.

But Diane never let me disappear completely. She convinced me to come by now and then, just to visit, just to watch. And somehow, those visits turned into me coming to the rink every week or so.

It wasn’t the same as being on the ice, but helping in any way I could for those kids, it felt like I was on the ice with them.

I don't remember the last time I visited, it’s been a while. More bookings and classes were piling up at the studio, I couldn’t find the time. Then Diane had told me a few days ago that the kids she trained were asking about me. They missed me, apparently.

And that alone had been enough to convince me to come.

So, I figured I’d drop by after my session with Quinn.

I just didn’t expect Quinn to be here too as he walked beside me, looking around as if this area of the building was foreign territory to him. It probably was.

I knew the Canucks trained at this same arena–besides the Rogers Arena–but their rink and practice times had always been separate from the figure skating academy’s. Or at least, that was how it used to be.

Now, with the off-season schedule and the regular season over, things had shifted. Today, by some uncanny coincidence, Quinn’s practice and the academy’s session overlapped.

I had expected him to head straight to his rink, but instead, he followed me as I made my way to the side of the smaller figure skating rink.

“The Canucks’ had practices here for years and I had no idea they had a figure skating academy here.”

“I expected that,” I glanced at him while we walked. “Didn’t take you for someone who strayed from the main rink.”

He smirked slightly. “Didn’t take you for someone who had another life as a skater.”

“Former skater.” I corrected him.

My lips pressed together as I realized how defensive I sounded. But luckily, Quinn didn’t seem to catch on to it since his focus was on the rink in front of us.

I spotted Diane gliding across the ice, effortlessly moving between her young students as she gave out directions. The kids followed her lead, some practicing jumps, their blades slicing clean lines into the pristine surface, others focused on footwork.

Diane noticed me first, her face lighting up as she waved from the center of the ice. She blew her whistle, calling out, “Alright, everyone, finish up with a few laps!”

The kids groaned but obeyed, starting their loops around the rink. I saw from my peripheral Quinn smiling at that–I was guessing he had related to the same memories as well.

Diane skated towards us against the boards, her arms already outstretched. I barely had time to prepare before she pulled me into a tight hug.

“Hey! So glad you came–” Her words cut off as soon as her eyes landed on Quinn who stood next to me. I knew that look on her face. It was the expression she had when Channing Tatum popped up on the screen. Mid-hug, she leaned in and whispered, “–What is Quinn Hughes doing here? With you?”

“I’ll explain later.” I mumbled quickly before pulling away from her embrace. Then I turned to Quinn. “Hughes, this is my friend, Diane. She runs the figure skating academy as one of the development coaches.”

“Hey. I remember you from the cafe a few weeks ago with Sydney, right? I’m Quinn.” He held out his hand and offered Diane a handshake.

Diane shook his hand far too excitedly, like she was more happy to see him than me. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you. Congrats on a great season by the way, I’m a huge fan.”

“But you haven’t even watched the Canucks play–”

“So,” she stopped me before I could finish. “What brings you here? Isn’t the bigger rink over on the other side of the building?”

“I’m just tagging along.” Quinn said loosely, hands in his hoodie pockets. “I’ve never visited a figure skating academy before, so I figured I could check it out."

Before Diane could dig for details, the kids finished their cool-down laps and were down swarming towards the doors.

As soon as they spotted me, their faces lit up, and in an instant, I was engulfed in their smaller arms and excited voices overlapping each other.

“Sydney! You came!”

“Miss Sydney, we missed you!”

“Took you long enough!”

I laughed, hugging them back, memories from months ago flooding in.

During the times I've visited, I usually sat, watched, or helped whenever I could. I never overstepped, just gave them some pointers on jumps, refining their edges, and corrected their landing. Diane never minded–if anything, she encouraged it.

But, I still kept my distance at times knowing that being too close to the sport would only bring back the ache I had worked so hard to numb.

“I missed you guys too.” I said while greeting each one of them.

My eyes flickered to the one skater who didn’t join in on the chaos. Arielle.

She lingered on the ice and stood along the boards, gripping them tightly, frustration etched into every line of her face. I knew that look. I understood the weight of it.

Before I could say anything, she made a beeline past us with her head down, then disappeared to the locker rooms.

“What’s wrong with Arielle?” I asked.

“She kept falling on her jumps today. She’s mad about it.” One of the kids explained.

I let out a short exhale and exchanged glances with Diane, fully aware about it.

My gaze followed the direction Arielle had gone. I had known Arielle for a while. She wasn’t the loudest in the group, but her passion for skating burned quietly beneath the surface. She was one of the older and more advanced skaters in the academy, incredibly talented but took mistakes hard.

Before I could dwell on it, I heard an excited gasp from behind me.

“Wait a second–Quinn Hughes?”

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

The kids turned their attention to Quinn–completely abandoning me for the Canucks’ captain.

Their eyes widening in disbelief followed by shouts of excitement. Some squealed, others gasped, and a few immediately began digging through their bags for their phones or anything he could sign.

Quinn, to his credit, handled it well. He laughed while greeting them, “Hey guys, looking good out there.”

“You think so?” One of them pipped.

Quinn smiled. “Are you kidding? You all looked so cool, I don’t think I could ever do that.”

The kids practically melted in admiration for the NHL star which accompanied with a wave of voices. All of them pleading for signatures and photos. Quinn was in the center of the group, looking slightly overwhelmed.

I was quick to step in. “Alright, guys that's enough. Give him some space. He’s a really busy guy.”

The kids frowned and sighed disappointedly at that. But Quinn glances at me, shaking his head. “I don’t mind.”

I gave him a look. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no trouble,” he said easily, then he turned to face the kids. “Anything for you guys.”

They all cheered and quickly lined up in front of him. So, I backed away closer to Diane as he let the kids take turns posing with him, signing skates, chatting, and entertaining them.

In contrast to what happened earlier at the studio with the reporters–this Quinn was more soft and warm towards the younger skaters. The sight of it tugged something in me. It was cute.

Meanwhile, Diane leaned in, her question from earlier resurfacing. “Are you going to tell me how you and Quinn Hughes came here together?”

I sighed, unsure whether I wanted to relive that chaotic moment. But, Diane would pry it out of me anyways. “We had our session at the studio earlier. Then when it ended, things got crazy with the media showing up and came by surprise. And I couldn’t get to my car, so he offered me a ride. I was already planning to head over, and his practice was at the other rink. It just worked out, that’s all.”

Diane’s eyes widened, looking surprised. “Sydney, that’s fucking insane. You ran into trouble with the media? How are you so calm right now? I would be freaking out.” She was clearly not buying the casualness of my explanation.

“I mean, if Quinn wasn’t there–” I paused, glancing at him with the kids. “–I would have been mobbed by the reporters. He helped me out of it.”

Just when Diane was about to fire rapid-questions at me, one of the girls, after taking a picture with Quinn, walked over to me and Diane.

She gestured to me to lean down, whispering in my ear. “Your boyfriend’s cute. You’re so lucky to be dating him.”

Wait. What?

“What? Wait–no, Quinn’s not my–”

Before I could say anything and deny it to her, she had already ran off with a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

I barely had the chance to process it before Quinn returned as he finished dealing with the kids. He had walked over just in time to hear the last bit and tilted his head at me. “I’m not your what?”

Shit.

“Nothing.” I stiffened. He was about to press further, but I quickly changed the subject. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for practice by now?”

“Yeah, in a bit.” He checked the wall clock sitting above us. “It’s still a few minutes early. Are you two heading out soon?”

Diane nodded. “Syd and I have big plans for the evening.”

That piqued Quinn’s interest, but I rolled my eyes at my friend’s exaggeration. “I wouldn’t call watching The Office and downing a bottle of wine ‘big’ plans, Di.”

“But you were the one most looking forward to it than–”

“That reminds me–” I butt in before my traitorous friend exposed me, earning both of their attention now. “We need to go get my car from the studio. I think the reporters should be gone by now.”

Diane nodded as she began gathering her things. “Yes. We’ll get going soon. Just give me a sec.” She picked up an average size box next to her filled with stacks of paper. “Kenneth told me to print these flyers out to tack them down on the arena’s bulletin boards.”

Kenneth was the head director of the academy. He didn’t coach either me or Diane when we skated, but I haven’t met another person who had the same passion for figure skating as I did. Always supported his skaters and never missed an opportunity to show up to competitions.

I shook the thought out when Diane handed me one of them to read.

Quinn walked closer from behind and soon enough leaned over my shoulder to examine the paper. He towered over me, his chest was basically against my back, and his face hovering very close to mine.

He wasn’t even touching me, but his presence was enough to make my face burn up despite the rink’s chill. Get it together, Syd.

“‘The Vancouver FSA presents the Fifteenth Annual Junior Skating Challenge taking place in late September.’ That’s pretty cool.” Quinn read aloud.

Diane nodded. “It’s a big stepping stone for a lot of young skaters.”

“Did you two ever compete in it?” He glanced between me and Diane.

My friend beamed at that. “Are you kidding? Sydney won it several times growing up! She was the best junior skater in the academy–actually, in the city if I’m being honest.”

The expression on Quinn’s face shifted into something almost…impressed. “You were? You didn’t tell me you were such a star, Gray.”

“No, no, I wasn’t. Trust me, I wasn’t that good.” I tried denying it, but Quinn didn’t look all that convinced. Based on Diane’s reaction, he knew she wasn’t lying or exaggerating either.

“Why would you quit if you were that good?”

My stomach twisted. I couldn’t tell him, not right now. So I forced myself to say, “I just didn’t want to skate anymore.”

I felt Diane’s sympathetic gaze burn into me. Besides my brother Simon, she was the only other person who knew why I dodged around that question. She had been there and saw it all happen.

Quinn frowned at my answer. “Oh come on, no one just stops doing what they love.”

“Figure skating is a hard sport.” I argued.

“I would have loved to see you compete. You know, teach me some edge work.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that. Like I said, I wasn’t that good.”

I could tell that Quinn was slightly getting frustrated with me and my dismissive answers. I don't blame him. He knew what I was doing, he wasn’t stupid.

But, he wasn’t satisfied yet as he scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. Not when Diane just said you were the best skater in the city. I’m sure she wouldn’t lie about that.”

“She was just exaggerating.”

“I highly doubt it–”

“I got hurt, okay!” The words escaped before I could even stop them.

Oh no.

My voice rang through the now empty rink, sharper and louder than I intended. I swallowed hard, felt my heart pounding as silence fell between us. Diane looked away, and Quinn's eyes were on me, startled, then shifted as if he realized he had pushed too far.

Quinn reached a hand out towards me. “Sydney, I’m–”

Diane cleared her throat, ever the savior stepped in. “We should get going, Syd,” she turned over to Quinn, offering him a small smile. “It was nice meeting you, Quinn.”

He returned the smile back with his lips pressed into a thin line. “You too,” he said to Diane. Then his apologetic eyes that reeked of regret and guilt laid on mine. “I’ll see you on Monday, Gray.”

It sounded a lot more of a question than a statement. He’s probably wondering if this conversation had cost him the one-on-one cross-training sessions, wondering if I was ever going to see or speak to him ever again. I thought of that as well. But, I chose to settle for–

“Looking forward to it, Hughes.” I gave him a nod and a weak smile.

I didn’t look back once we started walking to the exit of the arena, I felt Quinn’s eyes idle on me before we turned the corner and out of his view.

“Wow,” Diane said once we got inside her car.

And she didn’t have to say anything more.

I didn’t know how to put it into words either.

“So, did you get up to anything fun last weekend?”

It was the last few minutes of my regular morning slots with Phoebe. While she was going on about her rant about the new events in her life–including her divorce papers being finalized–my body moved through the last half of the session like I was on autopilot.

I barely processed what she had asked before giving her a small shrug. “Not really, just the usual.”

Phoebe hummed, unconvinced as she adjusted her stretching position on the mat. “I don’t buy that one bit, Syd. You think I haven’t noticed you seem a bit checked-out today?”

Just when I thought I could keep it together. Clearly, I couldn’t.

I hesitated, not knowing what to say to her. Besides Diane, Phoebe has known me long enough to catch on with what was roaming in my mind before I did. I couldn’t tell if that was for better or for worse given that she loves to pry the drama out of me.

“It was a tough morning, I didn't get to make my coffee in time.” I didn’t necessarily lie to her, it was true. Just not the real truth I wanted to tell her.

Phoebe nodded, she seemed to buy it, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it. I’d be a total menace without my coffee. My brain just doesn’t boot up properly without it.”

I sighed in relief as Phoebe began rambling, something about her weekend or the gossip she overheard in the hair salon. But as she was talking, my mind completely drifted off elsewhere. I couldn’t focus because my thoughts were pulled back to what happened last week.

With Quinn.

He was going to be here in a few hours for our cross-training session, and I had no idea how I was going to face him without thinking about the other day. Without thinking about the way I lashed out on him–snapped really, and held back from telling him everything.

Why didn’t I just tell him?

Because the truth was, I wanted to.

I wanted to tell him about the accident, about the way my entire world had shattered in the space of a few seconds. But there was a part of me that kept pulling back from doing so, something warned me against opening up.

And yet, I couldn’t avoid it forever. If we were going to be working all summer. There was no doubt that I’d have to tell him sooner or later–or he’d figure it out for himself.

If the conversation we had at the arena was any indication of that, Quinn wasn’t the type to let things fly past him. Not when he wanted answers. He had already pushed me to the point of breaking right then and there. I wasn’t so sure if I’d be able to hold it in next time.

Hoping there won’t be a next time.

“Syd?”

Phoebe’s voice brought me back to the present. She raised her brows at me, noticing I haven’t been paying attention to her. “Sorry,” I said, shaking the rest of my thoughts out. “I, uh–What were you saying?”

Phoebe smiled as she began packing her things. She knew better than to force her way to make me tell her what was really bugging me. So she didn’t push. “I was just saying that I should get going now. See you later in the week?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, forcing a smile. “See you then, Phoebe.”

As soon as she left the room, I let out a slow breath. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved that Phoebe wasn’t her usual pestering-self that I didn’t need to tell her what was going through my head. Or even more unsettled knowing that in moments from now, I would have to face Quinn. Alone.

The moment he stepped into the studio, I knew it was going to be awkward. I felt it in the way he hesitated by the door before he walked in, the sound of his footsteps echoing lightly against the hardwood floor.

“Hey,” he said as he set his duffle down.

“Hi,” I said in return, keeping my voice neutral. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he walked over to the mats–while pulling over his hoodie–and started stretching. “So,” he paused, nudging back to the foyer. “What’s with the security guard in the front?”

Oh right. That.

I guess he couldn’t have missed it considering how out of place it was. A security guard for a Pilates studio? What an odd combo.

But after the fiasco last week, Grace had talked with Rick to implement tighter security if the media were to come back again. They were lucky to keep any of the pictures or articles out of wraps before they were posted anywhere. What a disaster that would’ve been.

“Oh yeah,” I started. “Grace, Rick, and the Canuck’s management hired them after the surprise attack the other day. They couldn’t risk that happening again, so this was their solution.”

Quinn hummed in agreement, then scoffed lightly. “Gotta love the press, right?’

I shook my head before I turned to face him. Our eyes accidentally locking on each other, and for a second we stayed like that, before I blinked and moved over to the reformer. “Funny…let’s get started.”

The awkwardness between us was almost unbearable. We went through more initial stretches and the first half of the session in near perfect silence. I only spoke when I guided him through each exercise, and the sound coming from the music playing through the speakers.

It was so fucking obvious that the tension between us wasn’t going away.

Just a matter of who was going to talk about the elephant in the room first.

Though, it was Quinn who finally cracked, surprisingly enough.

“Listen, Gray,” he said, breaking the silence. “About last week–” I tensed, already knowing where this was going. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I really had no business asking you those questions that weren’t mine to ask.”

I fixed my eyes on him and sighed. “I’m sorry too. I overreacted and shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did.”

“No,” Quinn said firmly. “It was my fault. I never should’ve asked if you didn’t want to answer.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to answer.” I paused and there was a beat of silence. “It’s just…hard.”

I knew what I had to do. If we were going to be stuck doing the cross-training program together, I might as well tell him. There was no avoiding it anymore, especially now that he knew about my skating past.

It was one thing to keep it from people I knew such as my coworkers, Phoebe, and other friends. But it was another trying to hide it from a professional athlete who also grew up skating on a rink their whole life.

I exhaled slowly. “I got into an accident and it happened seven years ago, I was only seventeen during a junior competition to qualify for nationals.” Quinn didn’t interrupt and stopped his movements on the reformer. He just listened. “I attempted a jump I had landed a hundred times before. Then during the short program, everything was going well until I landed wrong on my right leg. My knee–” I stopped, swallowing down the lump in my throat, looking down at where the scar was. “It gave out and I severely tore a ligament. And just like that, my career was over and now the start of this one.”

I hadn’t told or talked about it since. It had happened so long ago that I doubt anyone remembered. Although, people were there to witness my fall. I remembered looking at them, they stared at me with pitiful eyes and told me that they felt bad for me. I hated that.

The weight of my confession hung between us. Quinn’s expression shifted, his features softening with steady sympathetic eyes. No, don’t do this. Don’t feel sorry for me.

“Sydney…” he said, voice low. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t like it when people felt bad for me. It made it worse, somehow. Made me feel like I was being pitied rather than understood.

But with Quinn, it felt different. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to have someone care—not out of obligation or pity, but simply because they wanted to.

I gave him a faint smile. “Thanks Hughes, I appreciate that, really.” The air between us grew thick again. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the heavy emotions tempting to break. “Alright, enough talking. Let’s get back to work, you still haven’t finished this set yet.”

Quinn returned the smile and got back to his original position on the reformer. “Yes, Ma’am.”

We worked through the rest of the session in silence, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy. The tension from earlier had shifted into something else. Something lighter.

To break the mood and pick up the intensity, I gave him a difficult variant of the lunge exercise–using the carriage and free-weights. And as predicted, he struggled with it. I tried not to smirk at the sight of it. I had to keep his ego in check somehow.

To his credit, he tried. He really did. But as each rep passed, I could see him falter in his form. His balance wavered, his muscles trembling from the effort.

“Need some help over there?” I asked, tilting my head at him.

“No, I got it,” he said immediately. Stubborn as ever.

I sighed and went over to him anyway to correct his form, adjusting his stance. But his body was reluctant to move. “You’re going to tip over if you don’t–”

Before I could finish or react, Quinn lost his balance mid-lunge, and not a second later, he was falling straight to the floor.

And I came down with him.

He hit the hardwood first with an audible groan. I shook my head, that fall basically gave me whiplash as my head ran in circles. Neither of us moved for a moment. The impact sent a shock through my body, but that wasn’t what made my breath catch.

It was the realization of the current position we were in.

I don’t know how, but I landed on top of him–straddling–as my hands were braced against his chest. And his hands–large, warm, and firm, free of the weights he was holding seconds ago–were gripping my waist, like he’d instinctively tried to steady me on the way down.

I felt my face start to heat up with my face so close to his, but I couldn’t look away. His chest rose and fell beneath my palms. And the way they felt underneath–solid, grounded, safe.

Safe? No, no, no.

I needed to get up now. But for some reason, I couldn’t. Couldn’t? Or didn’t want to?

We were underneath the cooling vent from the ceiling above, and the blast of air sent shivers up and down my arms. Quinn’s body was the only source of warmth.

My eyes drifted down for a second. A soft dark grey shirt was molded to shoulders and chest, not too tight but enough to see the hint of his muscles through it. Most likely ridden up because of the fall, revealing a strip of his skin above the waistband of his shorts. And unlike the usual sharpness of his blue eyes, they seemed to soften as his gaze flickered down. To my lips.

My heart thundered as if it was going to leap out my chest. Was he going to–

And then, of course– because fate had a cruel sense of humor–the door flung open.

Fuck.

“Hey Syd. I forgot my water bottle. Oh–” The familiar voice that belonged to Phoebe cut through the moment like a knife. Quinn and I both snapped our heads toward her. She blinked, unsure as to what she was seeing. Then she began smirking, which wasn’t a good sign. “Oh my, who’s this? Are you two–”

“Phoebe!”

I tried my best to scramble off Quinn, accidentally putting all my weight on him, earning a slight groan. I was quick to find Phoebe’s water bottle on the floor where she had left it, and practically shoving it into her hands.

“Sorry, this is a private studio session,” I whispered to her. “How did you even get in here?”

“I told the security guard I forgot something and he let me in,” she said amused, like she made the right decision to retrieve her bottle at the perfect timing. Her eyes flicked between me and Quinn, her smile even more evident than before. “So…what exactly did I just walk into, hm?”

“Nothing,” I answered too quickly for comfort.

“Mmhmm. Sure.”

Yep, there was no way out of this one. She was not going to let this go.

I groaned, ushering her back into the hallway. “I’ll fill you in on it next time. Now please, go.”

“You sure you don’t want to introduce me to–”

“Next session, Phoebe. Please?”

"Okay, okay. Fine." She chuckled but finally left with a teasing wave.

I exhaled, turning back to the room, and directing my attention to Quinn. He was still on the floor, staring off into space like he was still processing what happened a few seconds ago.

“Are you just gonna sit there all day?” I said with a soft smile, walking over to my bag on the floor.

Then he sat upright, holding himself up, and leaned back on his palms when he heard me. “Maybe. The floor’s kind of nice. Thinking of making it my new workout mat.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms at that. “Try not to fall next time then.”

“Try not to use me as a landing mat, Gray.” His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “You basically manhandled me mid-lunge.”

“Manhandled? Don’t be dramatic, Hughes.” I spat like that had really offended me. “And besides, if you had better balance, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

He raised his brows, and was suddenly on his feet, inching closer to me. “Weren’t you the one who said touching a client while moving on the carriage was a safety hazard?” He smirked once he saw the growing realization in my face. “What? Surprised that I actually listened?”

He–well, okay, he had a point. “No–” I faltered, giving him a look. “–but, I’m flattered that you actually listen during my sessions, and taking it seriously. I don’t think my brother would have lasted the entire summer.”

Quinn shook his head, going after his belongings on the floor. I hadn’t noticed it was the end of our session already. Time really did fly whenever I was with him for training.

“I doubt that he would,” he said before sipping water from his bottle. “Do you think he planned the birth of his baby to avoid doing all of this?

I let out a laugh, “Maybe not, but wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”

We both made our way to the studio’s entrance, greeting the security guard, and stood in awkward silence for a moment until Quinn spoke.

“Sorry about earlier, I’ll try not to fall next time,” he started, but then took a slow exhale, probably wanting to talk about what I had told him earlier. “Also, thanks for sharing about your accident. I know you didn’t want to and you don’t really trust me yet, but I’m glad that you did.”

I didn’t make a habit of trusting anyone besides my family and Diane, but at that moment, it was hard to remember why I kept Quinn at arms length.

I nodded and smiled, “Thanks for listening, Quinn.”

There was something about the way his eyes lit up and a growing grin after hearing his name roll off my tongue so effortlessly–like I was meant to say it. I hadn’t realized until now that I never called him by his name, at least not directly.

I probably got it from Simon whenever he went off about Quinn. That was the only appropriate name he had for the Canucks captain other than–actually, it’s best to not mention them.

He said ‘bye’ before walking out–no reporters this time thankfully–leaving me standing there with a racing heart and mind of thoughts I didn’t know how to deal with.

Quinn wasn’t my brother’s enemy as everyone kind of perceives him to be or my trainee–he was the person that listened to me, and didn’t make me feel like an object of pity when I had told him about my accident.

I caught myself smiling at the thought, but easily wiped it off. What was wrong with me, honestly?

That alone was enough for me to realize–that Quinn Hughes could matter in ways I wasn’t ready for.

Which made him all the more dangerous.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #qh43

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thebarontheabyss · 19 days ago

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hi love!! hope you're doing better, we miss you <3<3 please please please don't put unnecessary pressure on yourself, you should put your wellbeing before our entertainment! your IF is genuinely so good already and shows how talented a writer you are. as a perfectionist, things are never going to be perfect, and i know you're worried about people's interest waning, but that's okay because it's going to happen even to the best of games! pace yourself, and take as long as you need :)

Omg, this is so kind! ❤️ Thank you.

Honestly my reasons for taking a break are so dumb I’m kind of embarrassed to share them, but my therapist did say I should be more honest about my feelings with people lol, so maybe this is a good opportunity to just lay them out in the open. Or… puke them.

First of all, I’m sorry for disappearing on y’all like that.

I was dealing with a nasty combo of starting a new job and recovering from a year-long depression.

This game kept me going for a long time and gave me a reason to get up in the morning. I discovered an amazing community here on Tumblr, and I genuinely appreciate every single one of you who took the time to play TBOTA. You gave me air when I felt I had none.

Ironically, now that I'm recovering, I'm starting to have self-doubts about myself, my writing, and the game. Ultimately, I want it to be published, but I’ve really struggled to get people to read it beyond Tumblr and the small, yet incredible, reader base the game has here.

Which is understandable, I didn’t exactly picked the hottest and most popular genre for these types of games lol, and I SHOULD be thankful for what I already have…

But I was also, as Katya Zamolodchikova once said, “bombarded by a cacophony of demonic voices in my head telling me YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH”

Wow this is getting longer than I wanted.

Anyway, the point is, I just feel like updateing here is a time I could spend working on the update, which I’m working on but very slowly atm. I am trying to pick up my pace, and thank you for providing me an opportunity to update because I didn’t know how or what to say.

So… to all patrons who are waiting for the next update… I won't disappoint. Finishing this game is something I’m going to do for me, to prove to myself I could, first and foremost.

And I’m so thankful for each and every one of you who joined me along the way to the Abyss.

Esh ❤️

#thebarontheabyss #tbota #interactive fiction #choice of games #cog #choicescript #hosted games #hosted game #interactive novel #wip #tbota update #if update #wip update #update

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cupcakeslushie · 4 months ago

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Hi! First I just wanna say that I've binge read the entire separated au tag and I absolutely love it. Your art style is amazing.

Can you give any general idea for when the Donnie rescue arc will begin? And after that arc ends, what main comics have you got planned? Hope that makes sense

Thank you! Happy to hear you like it so much!

It will be some time. I’m working on the script for the first chapter of Donnie’s arc right now! But because it’s holiday market season, it’s hard for me to sit down and draw anything seriously because I’m putting all my creativity into working on the items I sell locally. My last market is this weekend on the 14th. But I also have some glass commissions to finish, my online shop to finally set up, and I need to pick up more hours at my other job in order to make up for the fewer hours I’ve requested the last two weeks. So yeah 😅 busy bee.

Probably won’t see an update drop until February—early March, because I won’t be able to even touch it until December ends. But then we should be back to the normal, every two-three months. Since my updates are usually about 10+ pages, they take some time to get out. And I also have my other AU ideas that need some attention. But once I have more free time, I can work a little bit on everything and start putting stuff out again!

I’ve missed drawing so much these past three months. I went from drawing something almost every single day, to maybe being able to rush through something once a week if I’m lucky! But I need the money these markets give me, and this time of year means my entire life is vending at the moment lol!

Thanks for the patience!

#rottmnt #ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #ew AU ask

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

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our next step ~ swaggersouls

word count: 1611

request?: yes!

“hey hey!! i adore your work and was wondering if you could do a swaggerwouls x fem!reader? maybe something along the lines of the reader also being a youtuber and them having a baby together and announcing it to their fans?🥺i’ve been having major baby fever lately lol. super sorry if this goes against any of your rules and it’s totally cool if you’re not comfortable writing it! :)”

description: in which they decide to tell their fans the major update in their lives

pairing: swaggersouls x female!reader

warnings: swearing, two uses of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

Being content creators with a very small social media presence outside of YouTube and Twitch made it incredibly easy to hide my pregnancy.

It’s not that we didn’t want to tell our fans. The majority of mine and Swagger’s relationship was online for everyone to see since we vlogged and gamed with each other regularly. If anything, it made more sense to tell everyone when I found out I was pregnant. And I had actually filmed most of my pregnancy to make one big vlog once the baby came.

But, like I said, the majority of our relationship was online. Not only that, but most of my life since I was in my late teens was online for the world to see. We decided that we wanted something for just ourselves, even just for a little while.

Neither of us posted on social media enough for it to be suspicious if we were suddenly MIA for months, and my face cam when I was streaming was always positioned in a way that showed me from my shoulders up, so my bump wasn’t on camera. The only thing my fans would notice was some weight gain in my face, which was easy to just say was because I had gained weight in general.

The other Misfits knew, of course. We told them shortly after we found out. Tobi was ecstatic that her son was going to have a Misfits friend. The guys were all happy for us, too, but Cam teased Swagger about being the last person in the group any of them expected to become a father.

“So, you’re giving up weed then?” Cam asked after we told him.

“Fuck no! I’ll go smoke outside instead.”

After nine long months, plus roughly six hours of labor, our baby girl came into the world and our family was complete.

She had Swagger wrapped around her tiny fingers from the second he laid his eyes on her. He loved her almost more than he loved our cats, which is definitely saying something. But, I did say almost.

A month or so after our daughter, Daisy, was born, Swagger and I were laid in bed together. I was reading while Swagger was watching stuff on his phone with little Daisy asleep on his chest. I kept glancing over at them and smiling at the sight. I couldn’t help it, seeing Swagger as a dad just made me happy. Especially seeing him with the little human that we made. It was hard to explain the level of joy I felt.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Swagger said, giving me a playful smile.

I hadn’t even realized I was staring until that moment. I shook myself out of my thoughts and retorted, “That’s not as insulting as you think it is. If I could reach my phone, I’d take so many pictures of you right now.”

“Oh, I am well aware.” He reached out to hold my hand while trying to move very little as to not wake Daisy. “What had you thinking so hard anyways?”

I looked at Daisy again, another smile involuntarily tugging at the corners of my mouth. I just couldn’t help it.

Instead of telling him what I had actually been thinking about, I found myself saying, “Should we tell our viewers about Daisy soon?”

“We did say we’d announce it after she was born,” he said. “And they’ve definitely noticed that you haven’t vlogged in months.”

“Do you think it’s time?”

Swagger looked at Daisy and asked, “What do you think, Daisy? Should we tell the world you exist?” The baby let out a heavy sigh, but otherwise didn’t move or wake up. “I think that was a yes.”

~~~~~~

The next day, I broke out the old vlog camera that I hadn’t used since before I developed my baby bump. Surprisingly, the battery hadn’t died even from lack of use.

“This feels foreign,” I said as I turned the camera on. “I haven’t vlogged in ages. I wonder if I’ll even remember how to do it.”

“You’re just setting it up to sit in front of it,” Swagger teased.

“Hey, that’s hard to do when you haven’t worked a camera in, like, a year.” I set the camera up on the tripod and turned to him. “Sit your ass down, knight boy.”

“That was a terrible insult.”

Swagger sat down on the couch, wearing his ski mask and holding Daisy in his arms. He had her positioned in a way that her face was hidden from the camera. We both agreed that we would not be showing her face on camera while she was a kid, but we also thought it would be hilarious to start the video with Swagger just holding our baby that no one knew even existed.

“She’s going to be terrified if she wakes up and sees the mask,” I said as I sat next to him.

“She’ll have to get used to it eventually,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just walk around the house with it on.”

“Do not do that. I know you would use that as an excuse to just scare me.”

He gave me a look, and I could tell from his eyes that he was smirking under his mask.

“Anyways,” I said, turning away from him. “Hello. I know you guys are all wondering, what is this thing.” I gestured to Daisy.

“Thing,” Swagger snickered.

“This is our baby,” I said, ignoring him. “It is the bun I baked for nine months, and now here she is. And I know you’re also all wondering, (Y/N) and Swagger, when did you guys have a baby?”

“About a month ago,” Swagger responded. “And technically, (Y/N) had the baby. I just put the baby in her.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” To the camera, I said, “We know you guys have so many questions. The short story is, we weren’t trying for a baby. It was definitely a shock to us both, but it was a good shock. Announcing my pregnancy wasn’t the first thing we thought of. Actually, it took, like, a week for us to realize we hadn’t said anything online about it, and at that point we kind of came to the conclusion that we wanted the pregnancy to be an us thing instead of a shared internet thing.”

“We were being very selfish,” Swagger said.

“But we’re not sorry,” I added.

“Oh, not at all. We love you guys, but sometimes we do need some privacy, and this was definitely one of those times.” He glanced down at Daisy, his eyes lighting up just looking at her. I decided against teasing him in that moment because it was just too cute. He continued, “And I’m going to answer the important question, which is no, not even becoming a father will stop me from smoking weed.”

I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Everyone was thinking it!” Swagger argued. “Obviously I’m not smoking 24/7, or around the baby, but I’m not giving it up all together. I’m not becoming a square just because I have a kid.”

“Should we tell everyone her name, or are we just going to keep calling her ‘the baby’?”

“I don’t see a problem with telling everyone her name.”

“Her name is Daisy.”

As if hearing her name, Daisy made a soft cooing noise and opened her eyes. Swagger moved her so she would look at me first. We were joking for the video before, but we were actually a little nervous about her reaction to seeing Swagger in his ski mask for the first time. It was something we’d have to ease her into when she was much older.

“Hey baby,” I said, taking her from Swagger. “Woke up to be in your first ever video, huh? You’re ready to be a star.”

She looked up at me with her big, brown eyes. Ever since she was born, everyone said she looked exactly like me, but not her eyes. She definitely had Swagger’s eyes.

“That’s it, I guess,” I said. “We’re going to take some time to take care of this one and get used to having a baby, then we’ll be back to regular streams and uploads eventually. Uh...yeah. Bye, I guess?” I looked over to Swagger. “Can you turn the camera off? I’m holding Daisy.”

He got up and did as I asked. Once the camera was off, he pulled off the ski mask and tossed it off to the side. “That went well.”

“I’m weirdly nervous about it,” I admitted. “My heart is pounding. Daisy can definitely feel it.”

“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t think anyone is going to react poorly to us announcing we’re parents now.”

“I’d doubt it, but weirdly I still am.”

Swagger sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him, stretching my legs out and resting Daisy on them so she could look at the both of us. She was very interested in her surroundings. According to my mom, babies can only see so far when they’re first born, and their vision increases as time goes on. I’m not sure if that’s completely true, but it was adorable to think that she was just now seeing everything for the first time.

“I can’t believe we made this,” I said. “We made a whole human being.”

“We can make another one, if you want.”

I shot him a look. “No way. My body does not need to go through that ever again. We can practice, though.”

“Deal.” He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.

#swaggersouls #swaggersouls imagine #swaggersouls x reader #misfits #misfits imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #rpf

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cloveroctobers · 10 months ago

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HAMMER TO THE HEART — THE FINAL CHAPTER: DANTE TORRES [Summer Writings]

A/N: We made it to the final part of this mini series that had no plans of being a series, which is still mind-blowing for me since I’ve nicknamed myself as “NeverWriteAPart2ESS.” 🤭 This is for the readers who asked if i had any more Dante on my list and here it is but I’m sure it won’t be the last! Thanks for all of your support. Also hope you have either a fun, safe, or chill holiday 💥 I originally had this planned to drop Saturday or Sunday but I’ve been in my writing bag lately so enjoy this (mostly) angst gift ✨

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz as always thanks for tuning in, I love reading your responses ❤️

S/N: Seraphina now has a face readers but ofc you’re always welcome to imagine whomever! + rewatched the last two episodes to refresh my noggin—I’m still new to PD and debating if I want to get into it from the beginning due to past ICKS so if some things are/have been inaccurate that’s why lol.

WARNINGS: language, tweaked the original plot just a little, light? discussion of deceased bodies, bodily injury, triggering flashbacks, & a LENGTHY read!

<- read part two here.

𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐

There’s an unknown number that stands out on Dante’s phone screen. He came to the bar with Atwater and Ruzek, Ruzek briefly disappeared to the bathroom after telling Dante he was ready to kick his ass in some pool and Atwater struck up a conversation with a very flirtatious woman that Dante had to point out to him. It was funny how the taller man tried to get updates on what was going on with him and Seraphina but was being oblivious to the attractive woman that wanted his attention.

Dante’s sipping at his beer when he feels his phone vibrating. Shifting a bit he manages to pull the phone from his pocket, peering at it he swallows the alcholic beverage before swiping across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, man thanks for picking up! Uh, sorry to bother you.”

Dante turns his eyes into slits, picking up on the familiar voice, “…Manny? How’d you get my number?”

“Remember my dad who I mentioned weeks ago?”

How could Dante forget? That day on his thirty-first birthday has been on his mind since and after everything that went down, added more disdain for his “special,” day.

Dante felt his eye twitch, “The old cop?”

“Uh huh…I guess you guys still have some type of pull even if you’re retired.”

Dante rubs at his face, slightly irked. Resting his elbows onto the counter he exhales as he thinks about what he should do about this situation. Somehow he chose to brush that off for now and get back to the point of this call.

Dante presses, “…is there something you need?”

It’s not as loud on Manny’s side of the line besides the barking that he scolds before it’s quiet again compared to Dante’s but the buzzed haired cop is focused on nothing but the intent of this call right now. “it might not be anything but my last call with Phina-Mena ended kinda abruptly. And I’ve been trying to reach out to her since and it seems like the call keeps dropping? I was just wondering if you heard from her?”

Dante feels his jaw tighten at this, it hasn’t been easy for him to process that Seraphina’s been keeping this from him at all. Which of course added to the mountains of tension between the two and it’s actually been two weeks since his birthday. Once Voight realized that Dante had a deeper connection to Seraphina than what this case is and felt a way about him getting her involved, Voight made sure to carry out visits to the lab without him.

Which further pissed Dante off.

“You gave me shit about not only becoming a cop but kept giving me shit about the situation with Gloria…and you think it’s okay getting yourself involved in this kind of danger when you already stepped away from it?” Dante felt like his brows were touching, the aggravation burned through his veins as he tossed Seraphina’s front door shut behind him.

The short haired woman continues her walk to the back of her home, to the kitchen, “Nothing about this case is okay and I have valid reasons just like you do with your career and Gloria. I may not fully ever get that second half but it happened and it is what it is.”

Which was ironic to hear since Seraphina was the one who said that she was done taking things for what they were with Dante. Was this all to get back underneath his skin because honestly it felt like she was kinda trying him?

“Yeah somehow I don’t think you’re gonna be saying that if you get yourself killed.” Dante’s usual gentle tone feels like frostbite, making Seraphina freeze in her tracks right in the center of her kitchen.

Relaxing her shoulders she turns to face Dante. His doe eyes are wide and he looks as if he wants to start pacing the floor but Seraphina isn’t in the mood to soothe him, not when his attitude’s been ugly since she made herself comfortable down at the district.

“You’re worried, that’s fine.” Seraphina shrugs, “I can understand that but you’re acting as if Voight handed me a gun—

Dante scoffs, “He might as well have!”

Seraphina argues as if it was so simple, “Tay, I’m working on the chemical end, not the physical. That’s your guy’s area. What you all signed up for.”

It wasn’t only PD’s job. She allowed herself to get thrown back into the true forensics of things. The amount of bodies that ranged from young kids to teens months ago to current time—still children was insane. At first the cases Seraphina’s dealt with, didn’t seem connected to her until she found something in common with each of the youngest children, that high traces of Librium contributed to their death along with specific wounds that ultimately caused them to bleed out.

The darkness was falling and Seraphina did not seem like she was ready to dodge it.

“What we’re dealing with is a serial killer.” Dante states while the woman nods her head being full aware from what she’s seen and before what made headlines, “They’re smart and have been steps ahead of us lately. If they find out that someone else is onto them…then there’s no telling what they have up their sleeve next.”

Seraphina inhaled and exhaled, “Which is why we’re doing everything to catch them and why Voight brought me on. He knows I can help so why can’t you?”

Dante shakes his head, “I never said that. You’re outstanding at anything you do…I just can’t go through having you in harm’s way again.”

She gets close to him now, hand going to grab the side of his neck and he thinks she’s going to embrace him but she just brings her chin above his shoulder, making sure her lips are near his ear, “Well, that’s not up for you to decide.”

And she goes to exit the kitchen, forgetting her appetite but Dante’s not finished as he also whips around, stalking after her, ready to follow her all around the house to get his feelings out about the path Seraphina was throwing herself back into.

The battle was just beginning.

Dante ignores Manny’s question and decides to ask his own, “when was this?”

“Last night.” Manny answers, “l called to see what she thought about the lastest MasterChef episode and we were just about to get off the phone after she took the trash out but there was some…shuffling? I guess and then the call dropped.”

At that moment, Dante felt as if all the air was just punched out of lungs. His head drops and he’s rubbing at his face now, eyes clenched while trying to find some air to bring back into his body. “time.”

“Pardon?”

“What,” Dante tries to keep his tone leveled but his gut was telling him that something was wrong and his stomach’s been funny since he last left his person’s house two weeks ago, “What time did this happen last night?”

Manny blew out a breath, “It was late…some time after 10pm my time and 9 for you guys.”

“You said you heard scuffling—

“Shuffling,” Manny corrected, “but now that you mention it, maybe it was more of a scuffle.”

“Did you try to call back?”

“Course. What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t check on a lady to make sure she made it safely into her home?” Manny says if it Dante offended him but it’s not like he cared, “There was a text sent ten minutes later saying that she dropped her phone, cracked her screen and would probably have to take it to a repair shop or get a new one but I haven’t heard from her all day today and we usually send morning affirmation texts or checking in texts during the day…it’s after 9pm now and there’s still nada. White noise.”

Dante can see that Ruzek’s made his way back out of his peripheral view, “Alright, I’ll get back to you.”

“Great, keep me posted. You now have my number—

Dante ends the call.

When his eyes meet Ruzek’s, his smirk vanishes as Ruzek gets rid of the teasing that’s sitting on his tongue, watching Atwater trying to spit game once he takes in Dante’s facial expression.

“Dante, what’s up?”

Dante’s rapid blinking makes Ruzek further concerned as he lets the words slip from his lips, explaining, “We have to do a wellness check on Nina.”

And Adam doesn’t need to hear anymore, with Dante making his exit before getting on the phone again, leaving Ruzek to toss some money on the counter in thanks to the bartender and calls out to interrupt whatever Kevin and his potential love interest of the night had going on.

When the trio make it to Seraphina’s brick home, Dante only pauses for a short time, his eyes scanning all over the exterior that was basically his first safe space once she brought it and second home. Kevin and Adam both share a look on either side of Dante, tempted to ease his worries but they were loud enough as they stood beside him.

It was a silent conversation between Kevin and Adam, both eyes widening to push the other to say something first but soon they realized Dante whisking by them as he jogged up the steep steps. He stops at the front door and gives a quiet signal for one of the men to check around the back while Atwater chose to follow after Dante.

The door was closed shut but not locked and that was something she did not do. With a twist of the door followed by his foot, he pushes the door open and calls out, “Nina…are you home?”

The home doesn’t feel warmed by her spirit so his mind already told him what he needed to know. Atwater does the honors of going up the first set of stairs to the right while Dante is checking closets, scanning the living room and there’s a closed laptop sitting on the coffee table, before heading down the hall. He passes the second set of stairs, checks the half bathroom, and continues to the kitchen. The house looks as it should and there’s a carton of raspberry chocolate chip Talenti ice cream soaking in the sink, perhaps it’s something she forgot to toss into the trash being too wrapped up in a conversation with Manny…but it reminds Dante of a dark time back in July when they were kids.

That July where their scars got fresh ones.

There’s a snapping that irks Seraphina’s ears, a light so bright that shines against the skin of her closed eyelids. She can feel her neck beginning to ache right at the spinal cord, the weight being too much to bare as she struggles to get the pressure off. It takes time but the light that keeps flickering is supposed to be encouraging and it does get her to focus.

Leaning back against the hard chair, her eyes peel open but the one on the left feels tight and more than sore. Swollen. She tries to blink it away but that feeling is prominent and it makes the space above her brow experience a sensation that radiates to the center of her forehead, leaving her skull to throb. She had been hit with something when she turned away from her trash out back and now she was sitting face to face with the man the entire city was searching for.

“You don’t realize how fascinating you are.” He starts, “At first I thought my one more would only be Hank but then…I started watching you too.”

That unsettling feeling that sunk in was not pleasant. The woman winces as she feels the ties chaffing into her wrists and her ankles, “…this isn’t going to end well for you.”

“I could say the exact same to you.” The bearded man says, emotionless, “But I’ll do you a favor and let you get one last call.”

Seraphina huffs, knowing what that means but slowly let’s the determination kick in trying to buy herself some more time, “Did you really catch me off guard and hit me in the face?”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” He answers honestly, “Like I said, you originally weren’t my target but I figured a two for one special wouldn’t hurt, much.”

Seraphina licks her dry lips, “tell me…are you married? Children? You should know, hitting women is a punk move but you got bigger problems than that. Kids? I hear the slammer doesn’t play with those that are kid killers.”

He scoffs out some laughter, “I won’t be there. I’ll be reborn, new by then and as for you…that’s to be determined. Are you a Phoenix or a scared duck hiding from the rainstorm like you’ve been doing over Dante?”

Seraphina clears her throat, “does that make you feel better? Speaking on things you think you know?”

He stands in front of the dark haired woman, hands clasped behind his back as he trailed his eyes all over her features, that alone made her skin crawl. It was as if he imagining all the ways to disfigure her face. There was a strong detachment in his eyes that would leave anyone shook.

“I think I know enough. I’ve watched all of you but the most intriguing happened to be: Hank, Hailey, Dante, and you.” He informs, “I needed Hank and I wanted you.”

“For what?” Seraphina quizzes.

He doesn’t miss a beat, “for new beginnings. We can’t take the easy way out but at least the comfort of a loved one in your final moments will make it seem that way. Which is why, you’re going to give me what I want and call.”

Seraphina shakes her head but stops as the pain follows her movements, “sounds like it’s more to give you a piece of mind. You think you provided all these people with peace as you tortured them for nothing?”

He has a cool blade underneath her chin so that their eyes are locked, “is anything really for nothing? Nothing is ever truly senseless. Look at yourself for an example. You’ve been here all your life, wishing on a star for Dante to love you back but maybe it’s a fever dream. Everything that you’ve been through, where you could have been, if only he took the romantic love you have for him serious—is all in your head.”

He’s squatting now, dry hands on Seraphina’s bare thighs. Her breathing hitches as the deranged man pulls the waistband of her Terry cloth shorts forward, “there it is.”

He’s in amazement and she wants nothing more than to spit in his face at him showing her vulnerability in this dark room.

Seraphina doesn’t look at him as he runs the point of the blade along her lengthy scar, “Stop touching me!”

She grits out but the killer can see that she was swallowing the rising tears down.

“Dante does love you beneath his own problems but he won’t allow it because he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. You know that. He chose someone else because that’s a life he’s known. You could have been a new life. Always have been which is why he keeps you close. He’s scared to have a life with you past friendship because of all of the things that happened when you were kids but most importantly he took a piece of life from you.”

The exposed air is cold against Seraphina’s old scar and she can feel her eyes burn; she just wanted this man to shut up and rot.

[July, 2009]

The horn from the opposite car is deafening.

A sixteen year old Dante is stunned on what he’s seeing. The classic mustang rammed into the back of Dante’s new low-rider, which was given to him by the exact man who decided to ram his car into the back of his. Dante’s leaning on his elbows on the hot gravel, trying to find his voice since his car was just totaled but that didn’t matter. What mattered was Seraphina happened to be in the passenger side eating her signature raspberry chocolate chip ice cream while he was outside of it, vibing to, “Forever,” by BBL Drizzy, Lil Wayne, Kanye West, and Eminem.

Although this was his first car through being involved with the gang, he took pride in it because he knew what he had to do to get it. He had to hide it up the street from his mother but she was no dummy, she sensed the change her in son the moment he returned the favor to his step-father, nearly beating the man to death. He looked up to, “Sad Eyes,” as almost an older brother with methods that gave him the potential to be a powerful man. However he wasn’t sure what this method was? And he scrambled to his feet as he heard the creaking of Sad Eyes’ car, he fell onto his shoulder out of the car, his eyes settling on Dante as he lay on his side.

“Why?! What was this for?!” Dante called out to him.

Sad Eyes just blinked as he spluttered around the blood that escaped his mouth, “Good Luck.” Were his final words.

Dante didn’t have time to process that right now as he circled around the car. His hands go right through the rolled down window to press a shaky hand into Seraphina’s pulse point. It’s moving but it’s too slow. She’s not conscious but the horrors were already settling in as Dante’s green hues followed the path of the crushed car and the iron fence that pierced through her abdomen.

There was blood everywhere. Dripping from the iron fence while pooling into the lap of her white jeans. His heart was hammering against his chest at the sight, she looked dead and that alone felt unbearable. He snapped out of it, hands moving to the handle of the door trying to pull it open but it was obviously jammed shut.

The sirens were squealing through the summer air in the distance and Dante just knew there had to be some sort of motive. There always was with this gang. Carefully he leaned into the window, pressing a kiss to her temple, breathing her in as he whispers, “I’m sorry, Nina.”

That wouldn’t be the last of his apologies. He went into hiding around the empty parking lot, just to make sure that the firefighters got her out and the paramedics got her into the ambulance. Dante was aware that the police would start searching the area but he couldn’t just fully leave his best friend behind. Not when their relationship shifted weeks prior.

Sure he’s thought about it, asking Seraphina to be his girl but he let the members of the gang get into his head. He only told the other youngest member of the gang, who went and ran his mouth to the main two in command: Sad Eyes and Joker about it. Rico aways had diarrhea of the mouth and sometimes Dante felt bad at how hard everyone was on him, until Rico told his business with Seraphina.

A meaningful intimate night that they all clowned him for. That she wasn’t anything different or even special because she didn’t choose to get passed around by them. Seraphina didn’t even want to be around the gang after they disrespected her, especially with most of the members being much older than the both of them. She would never be just some, “bitch,” and they told Dante that he would find plenty more along the way in this life. That did not sit right with Dante so he cut his time short with them that day (plus some days after that but they always came to him when he didn’t want to bothered) and gave Rico a nice busted lip on his way home. He felt bad about it later since the fourteen year old struggled to find his place in the gang and just wanted to be part of something but in that moment? A sixteen year old Dante stood on business, which the gang got another laugh at.

When Dante and his mother, Catalina made it to the hospital Seraphina’s father was just finishing talking to the doctor. It had been hours since Dante watched them take Seraphina away. He waited for his mother to get home from work, keeping his gun nearby just in case any other members dared came to his door, telling her what happened and she didn’t bother putting her things down. She waved him along, mind racing with a million and one thoughts as they left their home to catch the bus to the hospital.

Catalina prayed the entire way, rosary held in both her and Dante’s hands but the younger boy kept his eyes on the city lights that blurred by.

He couldn’t lose Seraphina.

“You piece of shit!” The boulder of a man hissed while yanking Dante up by the collar, “I told her to stay about from you countless of times but she continues to be hardheaded—must of been something you taught her. You bring nothing but poison, you started this. I know you convinced her to hide those pills that got my wife caught out. I know my daughter.”

Dante was breathing hard but out of anger, “you think you do, sir. You think you have the answers to everything but you don’t. You’re the definition of neglect. You neglected your wife when anybody can take one look at her and see that she was about to lose her shit. And Seraphina? The only time you paid attention to her is when you’re looking to point the finger for your miserable life. Tell me, do you really think I’m the only piece of shit here when you tried to drown your so called daughter the night they took Mrs. Coty away?”

“Dante!” His mother’s voice cuts through, knowing her son crossed a line but she never appreciated the way Mr. Coty spoke of her son, and she also wasn’t aware of what he did to Seraphina.

Her hand was resting right on Mr. Coty’s bicep tightly and she noticed the nurses looking, hands probably waiting on the phone to call security to throw them out. Seraphina didn’t need to be alone like this, this much Catalina knew and just needed these two to put their egos aside for the sake of Seraphina.

Mr. Coty huffed as he shoved Dante against the wall one last time, his head hitting the wall as he tells him, “You think you’re so much better? You’ve done nothing but break her and that’s all you’ll ever be, a scared little boy that brings nothing but damage. You think you saved your mother by beating that coward of a man down? You only ended up hurting her just as much and as for my daughter? Two broken ribs, neck sprain, and that fence went right through her pelvis. Do you know what that means? There’s a high chance that she’ll never be able to create life in the future and sure she won’t have to worry about that now but you’ll always be the reminder of what you took from her. That’s all you are, a good for nothing taker. So you remember that when you want to shit on my parenting skills.”

And Mr. Coty fixes Dante’s shirt, condescendingly patting his cheek as he stalked off in the opposite direction of where Seraphina lay. A sixteen year old Dante thought about many things in that moment, one of those being the act of swinging on the older man, there was a familiar look in his eyes that his mother saw so she sat beside him on the floor and brought him into her chest while he clenched his fists, holding back tears.

There was a time back when Dante was in the academy, where he and Seraphina slipped up back in their early twenties. The age of seventeen was the first time but as they grew, it happened again. She slipped into a bookstore while Dante was eyeing a new boba shop that was across the street. He had a tough day the day before and agreed to hang out that Saturday to get his mind off it. Dante knew that he had what it takes but the instructor was a Grade-A asshole and that only pushed him even harder. He easily pinned out what type of cop he would be dealing with and heard the gossip, so he showed his ass just exactly what he was capable of.

It did get tiring and he was exhausted but wanted to be around Seraphina to ease his mind. Seraphina stood across the street, a bright smile on her lips as she had a tote bag full of new purchases that her bank account would give her shit for later when she went over her finances like she commonly did every reset Sunday. She didn’t like what she saw, another woman, with bright copper hair, clearly flirting and being too close to Dante for her liking.

Did she not see that he had two drinks in his hand? It wasn’t Dante’s fault, he was a single good looking man and could do whatever he wanted. Seraphina just messed up her previous date that Seán set her up with because she was too hung up on Dante. It was ridiculous considering that they weren’t children anymore but constantly bringing him up to other contenders was a red flag. She saw that, had to understand how that was off putting because she wouldn’t put up with it herself honestly.

So she took the risk, not wanting anyone else to have Dante as they got into an argument over her shift in moods after their outing uptown. She walked right up to him, grasping his face and planted one right on him. He wasn’t expecting that as he pulled back, silently questioning what that was with curiosity in his light eyes but that curiosity is exactly what led to him connecting their lips again, picking her up and leading her through her apartment at the time to her bedroom.

She’d like to call it a true false positive, taking two tests after the third time. Her OBGYN confirmed it with a blood test and she was happy but scared. Seraphina and Dante were friends, the best anyone could have but they discussed that it couldn’t be more until she ended up wanting it to be more. No one else matched up to him. They were careful—not enough—and she imagined what children would look in their friendship and automatically knew Dante would be a great dad. Just when she worked up the nerve to tell him, waiting days after the news…she suffered a miscarriage alone because of that terrifying injury when she was fifteen going on sixteen.

Asherman's syndrome is what they call it.

“Somewhere around all of it, you still love him and he cares for you immensely. It’s twisted because anyone would have called it quits but there’s something…enchanting about you two.” The killer is back to standing up straight, “I want to hear how much up close so…call.”

Seraphina slowly blinks while she stares at the device the killer is holding out to her, “No.”

The bearded man deeply inhales, putting the burner phone back into his pocket, “tell me something…when you went through your miscarriage…when that abdominal pain almost ripped you apart from the inside out, did you dig your nails into the palms of your hands hoping that would help?”

She exhales, closing her eyes and knows what’s about to happen next. She doesn’t grant the monster with a response as she feels the blade pressing underneath her nail. Her screams did not go unheard in the room close by which contained a non-coherent Hank Voight and once satisfied, the killer whispers as he enjoys the drips of blood that hits the floor, “Take all the time you need but I’ll be back. It’s time to see Hank.”

The state of Dante Torres’ heart felt as if someone took a meat tenderizer right to it. He was right on Hailey’s tail despite Petrovic telling her to stand down. This case quickly became personal for the both of them and it didn’t take long to realize that Voight got snatched as well. The team all knew it was a matter of time and that was not something they wanted to continue to give to Matson.

He wished Upton stood on her stance of shooting Matson in the kneecaps and had his own finger on the trigger to fire. The next moments he blacked out on after seeing Hailey climb in the trunk of Matson’s stolen car.

Eventually he’s heading down the steps, eyes immediately picking up on Matson’s mutaliated body, eyes gaugeed out, brain matter surrounding him, and a knife sticking right out of his abdomen that Seraphina was still holding onto. Dante lowered his gun after putting in the call for the paramedics to make their way down.

“Nina,” Dante gently speaks as he gets down on his knees beside a sitting Seraphina.

He carefully reaches out to touch her bleeding hands but she pulls them back from holding the blade, curling her hands into herself numb to her missing fingernails. “Hey, hey, it’s me, Tay. I’m here, Nina.”

It’s like she’s not here, eyes glossed over but she hears him. “Dante?”

He nods and there’s a sob that rattles from her chest as a bloody hand tries to silence it. Dante springs into action, bringing her right into his arms. His face tightens as he glances at Matson’s body and back to Ruzek who’s tending to Hailey and Voight, he dips his head for him to get Seraphina out of here.

“I’ve got you,” he says to her after repeating a nod to Ruzek, “let me get you out of here, alright?”

Scooping her into his arms, he spins around taking her away from the violence that was inflicted. Hating that he didn’t try harder enough to keep her out of this. Kim nods her head at them on their way by, empathy was heavy in her large eyes as she watched her team member take the love of his life as far as he could.

“I wouldn’t call.” She whispers to Dante in the ambulance, one hand holding his while the paramedic is bandaging her right hand.

Dante hums as he brings her in tact hand to his lips, “I know Mi Corazón…you’re the toughest person I know, next to mi ma.”

Seraphina snorts before her eyes widen, “…you didn’t tell her anything did you?”

“She’s knows we’re going through our bullshit again,” he mocks his mother, knowing that Seraphina’s reaction was valid because as soon as Momma Catalina found out that her babies were up to some bullshit, she was ready to bring out the chancla after embracing them and making sure they were okay first, “but not the specifics.”

“Good.”

Dante scoffs, “good? Not good. I know what happened and you should be more concerned with that than anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seraphina closes her eyes but Dante nudges her with their clasped hands, “…can we do this later? I’m tired.”

Dante peeks at the paramedic who shakes their head, which lets Dante know that there could be signs of a concussion. “How about this? Let’s talk about the rest of our summer plans?”

“Are you sure you even want to spend the summer with me?” Seraphina wiggles around trying to get comfortable on the stretcher, “I know you’re going to beat yourself up over this and it’s not necessary. I’m a big girl and made myself part of this, not you.”

He exhales through his nostrils, laughing internally that she knew him so well. How could he not beat himself up over this? It was his job to look after her, something they both vowed once they became friends at thirteen. Once he got into the gang in juvi, he made sure he had people on the outside looking out; not only for Seraphina but also his mother until he got out.

“Yeah it is necessary,” he starts but Seraphina doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’m tired of Chicago, Tay.” She shifts the conversation, although the green-eyed man knows he can bring it right back there if he wanted to but he decides to listen on their ride to the hospital, “My parents went to Kansas City as soon as I moved out full time to get rid of all the bad memories so why can’t I do the same…even if it’s for a little bit? My cousin Behati’s been begging me to visit the New England area with her husband and two year old daughter.”

Dante is quiet at this but he shows he’s listening as he lightly squeezes her hand.

“B and Makari always extended the invitation to you too, you know?” She’s hinting as Dante leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

He’s met Seraphina’s cousin Behati and cousin-in-law Makari many of times over video calls and the pair seems so full of joy. So positive and compassionate with the intentions of showing that they were good people. Seraphina’s always talked about Behati and hated that she always lived far and cant remember the last time she’s seen her in person.

“You should go.” Is all Dante says, sending a small smile to Seraphina who goes silent at that.

Dante lets out a long exhale after cutting the engine. He knows they’re pressed for time as he’s in the line up, and glances over at Seraphina who peers out the window in excitement. Dante dips his head as they both move to exit the car, she’s fixing the carry-on that’s on her shoulder while Dante pulls out the hard-cover suitcase from the trunk. Reaching out for the handle, they both meet each other’s eyes.

Seraphina offers Dante a smile and he takes it, a soft grin splitting over his lips that she gets a view of the tiny gap in between his front two teeth before he’s pulling her into his arms. He always loved holding her. The feathered haired woman rubs at his back in his embrace as he holds onto her like he’s going to lose her forever.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you and I’m gonna miss you, Nina.” He says as their heads rest side by side.

She laughs, “I know.”

Dante snorts as he pulls back to look at the amusement in her eyes. It’s been a tough time after the events with the serial killer but Seraphina always knew how to keep going and this trip was part of that. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to relocate but she kept talking it over with her therapist—something new she was trying—and with Dante. What kind of friend would he be if he told her to stay after everything?

“How sweet of you.” Dante is sarcastic as he gently rubs the sides of her arms while Seraphina winks.

“I’ll be back after Labor Day.”

Dante nods.

Seraphina uses her pointer fingers to lift the corner of Dante’s mouth who rolls his eyes in return, a smile breaking through on its own, “And if you change your mind or want a little break from this…from Chicago, you know where to find me.”

He places a lingering kiss on both cheeks before hugging her again, lifting her off her feet, “yeah, I do. I love you, have a great flight. Now get out of here.”

She kisses one of his cheek’s back, “I love you more and I’ll text you when I land!”

“You better.” He puts her down on her feet, letting her take her things and watching as she makes her way into the airport.

Once she sends another wave and he can’t see her anymore, Dante circles back around his car to get into the drivers seat. The hammering starts in his chest as he starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and he’s struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

See Dante wouldn’t blame Seraphina if she decided that she didn’t want to come back. They always talked about seeing what the world had to offer but Chicago was all that they knew. He was glad that she was getting out, although she claimed it was only for a little while, the back of his mind was saying something different.

His eyes flicked to the new ornament that he hung from his mirror. It was a old Polaroid photo, on Seraphina’s fifteenth birthday during a late December, she held up a deck of cards which shielded the lower half of her face, arm tossed over Dante’s shoulder as he appeared unimpressed wearing a red headdress that was Vegas themed and forced on his head for the photo.

Written on the white space in Seraphina’s chicken scratch of handwriting she always had it says: I’ll always celebrate my bday and ur bday enough for the both of us! —Forever your road dog, Nina :)

Dante sucks in some air after glancing at it, blocking his mouth with a shaky hand in attempt to quit the cry that wants to burst out as he puts on a smile.

He really was happy that Seraphina got out, for real this time.

This didn’t have to be goodbye but it was certainly feeling like it and Dante would be lying if he said it wasn’t breaking him.

Guess he’s a sucker for pain and evolving it into something better, which he’s competent of.

When Dante truly sinks into this new found emptiness, a separate shade of darkness, he comes to terms with: not having the reassurance of Seraphina by his side or a simple drive across town where she resides, he’s not entirely sure how this will all play out and that petrified him.

“Torres,” he answers his phone, after realizing that it’s been ringing for a while.

The familiar gruff voice replies, “I need you down at the district.”

Crime was never ending as Dante put his foot to the pedal, flying down the highway to dive into the life he’s built for himself.

And continues to buries the rest.

For now.

𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐

FIN.

JK -> Here’s a bonus chapter!

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

#Spotify #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #dante torres #Dante Torres x reader #chicago pd fanfic #kevin atwater #adam ruzek #summer writing #benjamin levy aguilar

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cherubcameron · 13 days ago

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Songs that reminds me of Rafia

Author’s note: A lot has changed for me in these couple of days. With my cat giving birth, I’ve been helping her take care of her little kittens. I’ve been also trying to not be on my phone as much and start reading more. I’ve been wanting to finish the 80+ books I have on my shelf and my ass keeps buying more. But also I hit a bit of writers block. So here’s this for now. I know there’s only two chapters left of Igual Que Un Angel. But I’m kind of anxious of ending it on a really bad note. Writing wise not plot. Just a little update.

I don’t imagine that Sofia moves on from Rafe quickly. Nor he moves on from her quickly. So this song perfectly encapsulates that. She can’t imagine anyone else holding her in the way he did. And he can’t help but be the same way.

I analyzed the song further and holy shit. Yeah. “There's no one like you/Baby, I promise/(I could tell you, but it wouldn't be right)/Nadie como tú/(We cried together when we said our goodbyes)/Yes, I'm being honest/(I'd like to hold you, God, I wish we could talk)/There's no one like you/(Down by the water where we used to get lost).”

The we cried together when we said our goodbyes reminds me of their proposal scene. When he leaves her to find Groff. And they literally cried in each others arms. The I wish we could talk reminds me of Sofia and her guilt. We probably might see her still in that state. Then the down by the water where we used to get lost. Maybe this is just me being corny. But most of their scenes are near bodies of water. I mean duh. But I thought this was a cute point to make.

“If you see me alone and sad/ don’t talk to me/ if you see me alone and sad/ it’s my fault/ life is a party that one day ends/ and you were my unforgettable dance” I translated it.

Like this is how I imagine Sofia feels about it. I feel like she’ll feel so guilty about it. She will just claim blame to everything she’s done. I know it’s eating her alive still. Even if he knows now. But I feel also once Rafe finds out why Sofia did what she did. He’ll feel the same way. Like oh so I was also a big reason why this ended so badly.

“At night, I can’t even sleep anymore/ all i do is dream of you.” I’ve made a blurb of Rafe dreaming about Sofia and this reminded me of that. Just wanted to circle back to that.

this song is so sexual and during their relationship. I can imagine they were always having sex. Like let’s be real. They were hooking up the moment she came on screen. I know they’re freaky. It’s more of the vibe of the song. I know he was like beginning to become sober around this time. So it’s more of the sexual nature of this song. Then that.

“Give me reasons we should be complete/You should be with him, I can’t compete.”

I feel like this is how Sofia felt with Rafe and the Kooks. She felt so left out. Even if she was always around them. She just didn’t feel like she fit in. We always saw her with Rafe, clinging to him. Unsure how to navigate this new world she was thrust into. I don’t think she liked it. She was doing it for him. To make him happy. The him in this case is the Kooks lol. I don’t think Rafe ever felt that way towards her. Not saying he was sure about her. But on his end he wasn’t insecure about being with her. More like people trying to define their relationship? I hope you get what I’m saying.

I do feel like Sofia was really insecure about her relationship with him. I don’t think they really spoke about their relationship much. Before he proposed. And before he confessed that he sees a future with her. She looked surprised when he mentions it. So before, I feel like she was a bit insecure. Like am I even good enough for this guy? Does he even really want me? I wouldn’t say she overcompensated by being really flirty. We saw from the jump that’s just how she is. But I think internally she was insecure about her relationship with him. That’s why she kept hovering with Hollis. And why she took that deal.

“It’s not true/ tell me I’ve been lied to/ crying isn’t like you.”

Oh I know Rafe, if he listens to Billie’s music felt that first line hard. I feel like this encapsulates how Rafe feels about Sofia. I feel like at first he feared how he felt about her. I wish we got to see him battling more with how he felt towards her. Because there did seem to be a struggle of him trying to save face. But also being in love with her. Like he hated Pogues. And then now he’s in love with one. It should have been explored more in my humble opinion.

#Spotify #SoundCloud #rafe cameron #rafe x sofia #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe and sofia #sofia and rafe #sofia x rafe #rafe x sofia headcanons #outerbanks

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concreteburialplot · 1 year ago

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VIRALITY // 10

10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.8k

summary: after waking up next to each other vallie & nicholas go their separate ways. vallie goes to visit an old friend who may be more than friendly. nicholas goes to sober up noah but doesn’t expect him to pull the curtain back on his resentment.

warnings: mentions about alcoholism/AA meetings/cheating, arguing, noah being annoying but what's new, tea is spilled !!, vallie is vulnerable for once in her life, lots of dialogue, alternating POVs sorry 🥲

A/N: Sorry it's been like 2 months since I’ve updated, it literally did not feel like it 🥲 school & life are kicking my ass lol + this chapter ended up being so complicated / difficult

Also! This chapter introduces a very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from the band Chase Atlantic - he's being used as a fun little temporary reoccurring side character. Don't worry, knowing who he is isn't necessary to understand his character lol i just think he's cute🥰

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

A jarring buzzing jolts me awake. I sit up a bit with scrunched eyes trying to follow the noise with a wandering patting hand. The noise leads to Vallie’s phone rattling on my bedside table next to her. I grab it and sleepily ignore the call out of habit.

In my still half-sleep state, I don’t want to be anywhere else besides where my body was curled up against her. I return to my spot with my arm around the brunette, tugging her closer. Her scent fills my nostrils when I nuzzle into her neck. The smell of her hair is peppermint-y and the scent on her skin reminds me of marshmallows and… matcha?

Whatever it is, it’s warm, cozy, and smells so yummy it makes me want to eat her again.

Before I have the pleasure of manifesting that thought into reality, her phone goes off vibrating again, this time making me significantly more aggravated.

I snatch the phone looking at her caller ID – the name plastered across the screen:

Christian

with some emojis I’m far too sleepy to decipher.

Christian?

I decide not to ignore her phone call from an evidently urgent caller.

“Hey, Hey.” I gently nudge her shoulder. “Your phone has been going off.”

She lets out a sleepy groan that is probably the cutest noise I’ve ever heard.

She takes one look at the ID and immediately ignores it and shoves it under the pillow.

Odd.

She yawns and rubs her eye, “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure.” I try to look at the edges of my window covered with blackout curtains trying to gauge even the time of day. “You have your phone, check it?”

Her fingers tap against the mattress. “It’s not that important.”

“Who’s Christian?” I blurt out without thinking.

From the angle I’m at, I can see her eyes widen a bit at the question.

She clears her throat. “What?”

“The person who kept calling you. It was someone named Christian?”

“Oh um,” She bites down on my lip, seemingly contemplating her answer. “He’s a friend.”

I’m filled with a feeling I’m not sure I enjoy nor one I should be feeling.

“A friend?” I ask, unconvinced.

It’s none of my business. It doesn’t matter who he is.

“Yeah, a friend.” She scrunches her brows at the wall. “Why do you care who’s calling me?”

“I-I don’t.” I reply but I know I’m a shit liar and I probably don’t sound very convinced. “I was just wondering.”

“Right.” She yawns then gets up in a panic like she just realized where she is. “Oh my god we fell asleep.”

“Yeah…I figured you gathered that by now.” I said falling down flat beside her.

“Fuck Nick, how am I gonna get out of here?” She scrambles for her phone beneath the pillow to finally check the time. “Fuck, fuck, I have to leave.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Let me just check out the house, I can take you to get your car.” I pull myself out of bed and let myself stretch out my arms above my head.

“Fuck.” She mutters, readjusting her entire torso in her tight top. “Remind me to never sleep in a corset ever again. I need to get out of this, can I borrow something?”

Her attention lands on me and at first, her forest greens are inquisitive and calm but when she actually looks at me, they widen. Her eyes slowly trail down my body and land where my shirt hangs above the exposed skin of my hips.

Watching her tongue slide between her lips makes my heart thump in my ear drums so loud I can barely hear what she’s saying.

“Also, can you um,” She clears her throat and looks back up at me, “Help me get this off?”

“Sure.” I nod and drop my arms back down.

She shifts in the bed so the zipper in the back of the faux-corset faces me. My fingers delicately gather her dark chocolate locks and drape them over her shoulder to get them out of my way. Her tan skin curves so beautifully from her neck to her shoulder that I feel as though if I don’t kiss her there it would somehow be insulting.

The need to kiss her there feels as necessary as air, so lean down and press a hesitant kiss to the crook of her neck as I begin unzipping her top.

She doesn’t stop me, which I was sure she would stop me now in the daylight.

Another kiss up, I linger more there.

Then another in the same spot, then another, and another, and another – until I am fully peppering her skin with open mouth kisses and my hands roam her curves.

She lets out little noises the closer I get to her ear that remind me of the ones she gave me when my tongue was inside her.

It’s not until I’m nipping and sucking at her skin that she speaks.

“Nick…” She whines in a tone that says ‘you know better’.

I tug down the rest of her zipper.

My lips still lazily drag up her neck.

I hum against her and let my hands wander down her sides to her hips. “Let me make you feel good.”

She lets out a shuddered whine but not a red or green light.

My hands round her hips giving them a gentle back and forth rub, “I need to taste you again.” I press another kiss against the sensitive skin below her ear and I can feel goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

My fingers burn everywhere they meet her skin and beg to be everywhere they shouldn’t be.

She closes her eyes and lets herself breathe for a second.

“Nicholas.” She repeats, more sternly this time. “I have to leave before anyone sees me.”

“I know.” I say simply and pull away, strategically resting both hands over my semi.

I know I shouldn’t press more. I know shouldn’t try to convince more. But god do I want to. All I’m thinking about is fucking her senseless.

She keeps a hand on the front of the corset to keep it flush on her skin. “Could I please borrow something?” She reminds me of her original request.

“Oh yeah sure, sorry.” I quickly scan the room for the closest item.

I spot a barely worn Deftones shirt and hand it to her.

“Thanks.”

She just sort of stares at me then makes a ‘turn-around’ motion with her hand.

“Oh, sorry.” I shift away from her. “It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up.”

I hear her let out a sigh of relief, probably from finally being freed from the constricting top.

“Okay you can turn around now.”

I turn back to her and find what I expected: her in my shirt.

What I didn’t expect was to somehow find her even more attractive in my shirt than even a lace corset.

As much as I’d like for her to stay, I fear that if I don’t get her out now, I’ll devour her whole.

“I’ll just… go scope out the area.” I thumb over my shoulder towards the door.

“Good idea.” She nods.

I very quietly sneak out of my room into the empty hallway, gently closing the bedroom door behind me.

After tiptoeing around the house, I find everyone asleep as it seems still quite early, at least for them.

The drive back to the bar is quiet and somewhat awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because of what we did or if I crossed some sort of invisible line and made her upset.

Or maybe both,

Maybe neither.

Maybe I’m over thinking it.

We haven’t talked about anything, no rules, no boundaries. I don’t know how I would bring that up to begin with. What the hell are we doing? And how do I feel about it. How do I want to feel about it?

We say goodbye and it’s stiff and odd. I’m not sure if I should kiss her? Or treat her like my colleague?

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

That one feels more like a maybe neither.

The way she acted this morning makes me think that whatever… this is, is over.

I know it should be done, but there is a part of me that doesn’t want to stop. At least not yet. Maybe if I got one more fix.

Regardless how I feel about it, it was a mistake. I knew that the first time, I knew it last night and I know it now.

Why did I let this happen. How did I let this happen?

I tap my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel once I’ve parked at home.

I know Folio wouldn’t really care but if Noah or Jolly found out about this?

Oh my god.

I don’t even want to think about what would happen.

All I know is two things.

One, I can’t keep fucking thinking about this – I can’t keep thinking about her.

Two, I unfortunately know what I need to do when I walk back through our front door.

-VALLIE-

As soon as my car door shuts behind me, I let out a long sigh that I wasn’t aware I was holding.

I fold my arms around my steering wheel and rest my forehead against it.

“Fuck.”

The entire ride home there was this nausea festering in the pit of my stomach.

I like being with Nicholas.

I like being with Nicholas too much.

And this stupid fucking Deftones shirt is too comfortable and smells too much like him – and I like it more than I should. And I need to get home as soon as possible to get it off me.

This is absolutely the last thing I needed – catching feelings or whatever the fuck is filling my chest with butterflies from someone I’m representing.

This is the band that I shouldn’t have even taken on in the first place, and now I’m here on the verge of vomiting because I miss the way his bed feels. This was not the plan.

I shake my head from the the thoughts as I walk through my front door. It’s just the dickmatization talking. That’s it. I like his dick and that’s all.

His huge fucking…

No.

And god his fucking tongue...

No.

This absolutely cannot be happening.

I won’t let this happen.

I need to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

I chuck my phone and keys on my dresser and use my palms to lean against the edge.

An abrupt buzzing of my iPhone against the hard wood shocks me from my dissociation.

Christian

…could be exactly what I need.

I slide the answer bar across the screen and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hey Kras.” I smile, using his nickname.

“Val!” He chimes cheerfully on the other line. “I’ve been trying to get ya all day!”

“I’m busy Kras, you know that.” I roll my eyes playfully. “What’s up, what do you want so badly?”

“Tour ended last week and I’m staying in LA for a bit for some band stuff before I head back home to Sydney.” He pauses. “I wanna see you. I need to talk to you about something.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath, suddenly stressed about what exactly that meant.

“Okay. When and where do you wanna meet up?”

“Today? My place?”

“Okay, see you then.”

After a much-needed shower I’m finally at the door of his temporary apartment. I smooth out my outfit, which wasn’t much really, just some sweats with a cropped tank. With as long as I’ve known Kras, it didn’t really matter what I looked like, but I still wanted to look cute. I use my hand to flatten my tied up hair to make sure there’s no ridges before I knock on his door. It doesn’t take long for him to answer it.

“Val.” He greets with his signature big goofy smile.

The tall, long-haired blonde envelopes me into giant hug and I embrace it. His scent fills my nose with memories; it’s soft, comforting, and most of all, fun.

Christian and I have always been close, he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. Our friendship has always been…interesting to say the least. I think most people would consider our dynamic complicated, but to us it’s quite simple.

I give him a good, hard squeeze around his midsection. “Augh, Kras I’ve missed you.”

He reciprocates the squeeze and places a kiss atop my head. “I missed you too.”

I pull away with a smile and smack his arm, “You don’t text me enough! I didn’t even know your tour ended.”

“Me? The phone works both ways Miss ‘You know I’m busy’” He mocks me jokingly.

“God, I forget how strong your Aussie accent is in person.” I chuckle, diverting the conversation.

I shiver at the ice-cold chill I get from his AC and rub my arms for warmth.

“Fuck it’s cold as shit in here.” It’s so frigid even my teeth chatter.

“Yeah, sorry I like it freezing. You want a jacket or something?” He offers then crosses the room when I nod.

He picks through some clothes in an open suitcase and hands me a multicolored flannel. I pull the flannel over my arms letting the material engulf my body.

After a brief catching up about tour and life, I lean against the wall and cross my arms.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about.” I cut straight to it.

He bites down on his lip, and I can’t tell if he’s excited or nervous.

Maybe both, maybe neither.

“We need a manager.” He blurts out.

“Oh? I thought you were working with-”

“We want you Val.”

I laugh, because surely, he can’t be serious. I don’t belong to an agency and work my two clients freelance, all on my own. There’s no way I could take on another band, especially one as successful as Chase on top of the other two.

“What? No, no, I absolutely couldn’t manage you guys…”

He steps towards me and trails his fingers down my arms and hooks onto my hands. “Sure you can. You used to, remember?”

I shake my head, “Oh, you know that doesn’t count Christian. We were nobodies – you were nobodies. Of course I could manage your measly little 10,000 Instagram followers.”

He squeezes my hands and tugs on my arms. “C’mon Val. It’ll be like the good old days. It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know about you, but living in a tiny LA apartment with three men struggling to afford food wasn’t really that good or fun.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs on my arms again. “For old times’ sake?”

I shake my head, “No, no, I already have enough on my plate. I just took on another band not that long ago.”

“Please Val, for us?” His brows curve up, and he gives me the biggest hazel puppy dog eyes that he knows I can’t say no to. “For me?”

I groan and rest my head back against the wall. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

His hands leave mine and find their way to my hips, slipping under the flannel so his hands are holding onto bare skin between my tank and my sweats. His forehead presses against mine.

“Is there anything I can do to help change that answer?” He asks between the small space separating us while his finger traces my jaw line tilting my chin up a bit.

I tug at my lip – this is partially why I came here right? To nip my Nick problem in the bud, to break the dickmatization spell.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I tease up at him with round eyes.

“Hm.” He hums and leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips and I freeze.

Even though we’ve done this a million times before, it just feels wrong now. Nicholas and I aren’t even… anything, we’re just fucking, right? But it still feels odd.

I know this feeling.

And I know what it means.

Fuck.

I pull away and give a little head shake.

“Plum?” He asks using our code word for when we’re interested in or dating someone else.

I groan loudly, shuffle past him to his bed in the studio apartment and dramatically fall flat, face down onto it. Then let out an even louder, longer groan.

He walks over and gently sits criss-cross on the bed next to me.

“Must be a pretty good Plum to have you like this.”

Our friendship was simple. We’re the rare example that a friends-with-benefits can be truly, purely platonic and casual. Kras is a generally affectionate guy, even with his bandmates. And he is one of the only people I feel comfortable being affectionate with, so I let myself be affectionate with him.

We are platonically affectionate best friends who fuck when we’re single. It sounds impossible but it’s who we are and who we have been for almost 10 years.

It’s nice, cozy, and convenient. Easy.

He’s safe, familiar, and reliable.

Which is more than I can say for any friendship or relationship I’ve ever had.

I turn my head towards him still flat against the bed.

“It’s bad Kras.”

“How bad?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “I work with him.”

His eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“…In the band you were talking about?”

I turn back to hide my face in his duvet. “Oh yeah.”

“Val noooo.”

I chuckle at how his ‘no’s sound like ‘naaauur’s.

“I knooow.” I whine into the sheets.

“Singer?”

I shake my head against the duvet.

“Guitarist?”

“Bassist.” I reply muffled in bedding.

“Oof.”

A laugh escapes me at his reaction. I pop my head up at him, “Stop, I know.”

I pull myself up and cross the bed to sit next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

“Maybe I just really like his dick.” I state confidently staring out the large window across the room. I blankly watch the daytime city lights flicker across the highrise-littered skyline.

“You think so?” He asks looking down at me a little. “I’ve never seen you get like this over just good dick. You’re pretty cut and dry about like…emotions. You’re good at separating sex from feelings.” He laughs and nudges me. “That’s why we work so well.”

I groan and hide my face in his shoulder because I know he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to shit like this.

“He sang to me Kras.”

“Oh god…was he any good?”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I nod against his arm, “It was so pretty.”

He laughs and tickles my side, “Look at you! You’re smitten! I never thought I’d see the day.”

I grab the nearest pillow and smack him with it, “Shut up!” then fall back flat and cover my face with it.

There’s a silence between us for a bit, a million things running through my mind, but Kras speaks for me.

“You know you can’t love him, right?” He says gently.

My brows furrow immediately, I slam the pillow down and shoot straight up.

“WHOA, whoa whoa.” I cut through the air with my hand. “Nobody ever said anything about…the L word. I do not…love him.” I can barely get the word out as if it’s something forbidden. “I barely fucking know him. I just like his dick.”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “You can’t like him. You know that right?”

“I don’t even know if I like him. We’re just fucking. That’s all.”

He glares at me with a face that screams, ‘yeah right’. “Well, fine, you know you can’t keep fucking him.”

I let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I thought coming here to fuck you would help.”

He laughs then tapers off in thought.

“Maybe we don’t actually have to fuck in order to help.” He suggests.

I raise a brow at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… guys normally don’t just sing to girls they’re casually hooking up with.”

“Okay…?” I motion for him to keep going.

“So, if it comes up or anything, you could just lie.” He shrugs.

“Lie about what?”

“About like, fucking someone else. If he likes you enough to sing to you, he probably won’t be happy if you tell him you’re fucking someone else. So, he’ll stop trying to fuck you.”

I chew on my thumbnail in thought, he’s right. Like always.

“Maybe. I don’t really know if he’d even care. We never really talking about anything… I thought we just had a silent agreement about just fucking, he never said anything about-”

“He sang to you Val.”

I anxiously twirl the ends of my ponytail and chew on my bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

He gives me the most ‘are you for real’ glare.

“Okay, okay.” I deflate. “IF it comes up, I’ll mention something.”

“Just don’t say who I am. I don’t know him, he could beat my ass." He laughs. "Plus, it would be pretty awkward for him to find out that you’re fucking a hot guitarist from your other band.” He smirks cheekily.

“Shut up.” I elbow his side playfully, “I never said yes.”

“But you will.”

I chew on my lip thinking it over.

On one hand, I’m already insanely busy and overworked with the two artists I’m already managing.

On the other hand, as odd as they are, they are old and close friends of mine. It wouldn’t be like managing strangers or learning a whole new fanbase, I helped build the foundation of the one they have now back in 2014.

And it would be a good distraction.

If this plan works out with Nick, maybe I could move on from Plum status and I can actually focus on my job.

“Fine. I’ll do it. BUT,” I hold a finger pointed towards him menacingly, “ONLY temporarily.”

“Ah yes! I knew you would!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around me and tackling me to the bed, pressing various ‘thank you’ kisses to my cheek.

“Okay, okay enough.” I chuckle trying to escape his grasp.

-NICHOLAS-

I let a long sigh at the bottom of the stairs, shifting my weight between both feet. I tap my fingers on the wooden railing anxiously. I probably shouldn’t be this rattled over something I’ve done a million times before. But it doesn’t get any easier.

I push myself up the stairs in one driving force knowing that it has to be me. It’s always me.

Never Folio. Never Jolly.

It’s always been my job.

There’s no response when I knock on Noah’s bedroom door.

I knock again, no answer.

So, I let myself in.

As expected, Noah’s passed out with a fresh bottle of whiskey half drank on his nightstand. His room still in as much filth as it’s been for a while. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen his room even remotely messy a handful of times, and this is the worst I’ve ever seen it. In the past I’ve known the reasons behind the mess or the drinking – usually over a breakup or some depression spell – but this time he kept me in the dark. I have no fucking clue what's going on with him.

If I wasn’t so aggravated with him already, the mess of the room would worry me even more than I already am.

I cross the threshold of garbage between the door and his bed and pat his cheek awake.

“Noah.”

Sleepy snores tumble from his mouth and while one might find them endearing, right now, they’re pissing me the fuck off.

“Noah.” I say more sternly, nudging him more. No luck.

I try various other ways, and nothing works. He’s out cold.

So, I try a tried-and-true classic.

I climb on top of him and straddle his waist over the duvet, one knee at each side of his hips. His boney exposed shoulders offer a great anchor so I grab them, shaking him awake.

He comes-to slowly, droopy heavy lids struggling to open. His fist goes to rub his tired eye but winces when he’s reminded of the swollen black and blue that surrounds it.

“The fuck are you doing?” He groans, stealing a pillow from beside him to cover his face. “Get off of me.”

I snatch the pillow from his grasp and toss it across the room. “No. You’re going to get up. You’re going to shower. And I’m taking you to a meeting.”

He shields his eyes with his arm. “I’m-I’m fine Nick, don’t need a meeting.” His words slurring together.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I correct.

“I don’t need a meeting.” He hiccups and I can smell the alcohol radiating off him, seeping through his skin. “I’m not going. I'm just gonna sleep.”

I grab his wrists, pin them to the bed and get low to his face. “Oh you’re going. We’re gonna sober you up, starting with a shower.” I pull off him and stand beside the bed.

“Let’s go. C’mon.”

“No.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way has the same result. Let’s go.”

“No.”

I sigh, even though I knew it would end up like this. “Fine. Hard way it is.”

I yank the sheets off him and use two arms to scoop up his body by his midsection and throw him over my shoulder. He’s thin enough to where even I can lift and carry him easily – or maybe I’ve just gotten used to the weight of him in my arms.

“Nick let me fucking go.” He whines but doesn’t try to wiggle out of my grasp, probably too hungover to move that much.

With every bit of my strength, I carry his thin body to his guest bathroom.

I all but toss him into the shower, start the water, and fling the curtain closed.

“Hey! What the fuck!” He yells and shuts off the water immediately.

He slings the curtain open and snatches a towel off the nearest rack, wrapping it around his shirtless torso.

“What the fuck is your problem, Nicholas!” His hands frantically wipe the water from his face.

I let out a frustrated groan and turn to leave. "Stop being a baby."

He steps out of the tub and calls after me, “Hey, I’m not fucking done talking to you!”

The shower shock did exactly what I needed it to do, sober him up, but now I regret even waking him up.

“My problem is that you’re a fucking drunk Noah.” I snap turning back to him.

“I’m not a fucking drunk, I have it under control. You’re just fucking paranoid!” He steps into the hallway dripping water all over the carpet.

“I’m not fucking paranoid, Noah. I’m not letting you drink yourself to oblivion.”

His brows lift in offense, “Let me? What the fuck are you, my fucking keeper?”

“Sometimes it sure fucking feels like I am!” The words escape me before I can stop them.

He chuckles in disbelief, “Well, nobody fucking asked you to be.”

“It doesn’t matter if anyone asked me to, I have to because who the fuck else is gonna pick your sorry, bruised ass off a bar floor in the middle of the fucking day?” My hand helps exaggerate each word.

“Jolly or Folio would’ve.” He sasses, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah? And how long you think they’d put up with that?” I step closer to him. “Not for as long as I have, that’s for fucking sure.”

His eyes scrunch together like he’s hurt or offended.

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

“I won’t let you push out everyone in our lives Noah.”

His eyes land on me and he cocks his head to the right a bit like a dog processing a foreign noise.

“‘Push out everyone in our lives’ is that what this is actually about? Alice?”

My gaze locks on him and my hands curl into tight fists at my sides. There are many words I want to say but none seem able to leave my tongue.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious.” He steps back and points defensively at me. "I didn't push her out, you did!"

My blood boils and burns as it courses through my veins. My eyes narrow at him.

“I know you fucked her Noah.” I shove my finger so hard into his chest that it nearly knocks him back.

“I didn’t even like her Nick! Why the fuck would I fuck her?” He immediately denies.

“Because you always have to have everything you want, including the things that aren’t yours.”

“‘Things’” He scoffs. “Funny how you’re so upset about someone you only see as a thing.”

My teeth grind so hard it makes my jaw clench, “You know she was never a thing to me until you fucked her.”

“Oh, give it a break Nicholas! Stop blaming me for her leaving.” His hands exaggerate his words then points straight at me. “You are the reason your relationship failed. You are the reason she left.”

My eyes narrow as I step closer to his soaked body. “I would really watch what you fucking say if I were you.”

“Or what?” He asks but I have no answer. “When are you going to stop punishing me for something I never fucking did?”

I watch his eyes: dark brown, heavy, bloodshot, and one lined with a dark bruise from the bar fight. His words sound genuine, but I know his eyes, I know them like the back of my hand.

I know when he’s lying, and he’s lying to me right now. I can’t prove it, I haven’t been able to, but I know he’s been lying to me for the past year.

“For the love of god Noah, can you just stop fucking lying?” I snap. "You don't even have enough respect for me to tell me the truth?"

“Wow.” He presses his lips together for a moment. “You must think so low of me to really believe that I would do something like that.”

“I don’t have to think low of you to believe the truth.” I hiss, stepping towards him. “But you’re going to keep denying it so it’s irrelevant what I believe did or didn’t happen. What I do know, is that you have a fucking problem, and you need help.”

He steps towards me with low brows and narrow beady eyes, “I didn’t fuck Alice and I don’t need a fucking alcohol anonymous meeting just because I still like to get drunk sometimes. I am a fucking adult, and I don’t need you to ‘save me’.” He scoffs and runs his tongue across his teeth. “You know? Maybe that’s what actually drove Alice away, you and your fucking high-and-mighty, savior complex bullshit.”

Every inch of skin on my body feels like its burning and my heart races so loud I can barely even think clearly. I tighten my fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms painfully. I know that if I do anything, it will make me look like the villain.

“I can’t fucking hit you because if I do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” I growl lowly. “Get sober or don’t, I don’t fucking care anymore – but we have a chance, a real chance at making it now and if you ruin this for us Noah, I will never fucking forgive you. Do you understand me? I will fucking destroy you if you fuck this up for us.”

His brows curve up and he looks at me like I’m insane for insinuating that he would. “I won’t.” He replies through gritted teeth.

I glance over the railing when I hear the house beginning to stir with Jolly and Folio starting to wake up, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I don’t need them getting involved.

“Just,” I lower my voice between us. “Make it to rehearsals, meetings, shows – the rest I don’t give a fuck. Just make it to work. Sober.”

“Fine.” He says quickly, "If that will keep you out of my fucking business and leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine."

"Fine." He repeats, because of course he has to have the last word, before storming off to his room and slamming the door behind him.

I mirror him, making it to my room and slamming the door.

Once alone, the feeling that courses through my body is nauseating, painful and overwhelming. It is a visceral ache, I feel it twisting in my chest first, in my ribs, then flows and pools in the pit of my stomach.

I thought I moved on from the Alice situation. I tried to force myself to believe him, I tried to forget and push it so far down that it wouldn’t hurt. Tried to rationalize, maybe he didn’t sleep with her. Maybe he didn’t betray me. Maybe it really is just me projecting the weaknesses of our relationship onto him. But no matter how hard I push it down, it always bubbles back up.

And in my gut, I know he did it. Everything adds up, the timelines, the behavior, all of it.

I was just never prepared for a girlfriend to cheat on me with my best friend. I was never prepared to have him sleep with my girlfriend. Not after everything we’ve been through.

I was never prepared to have my heart broken by the two people I trusted and loved more than anything in my life.

In retrospect, I guess, I should’ve expected it. For as long as I can remember Noah always had girls fawning all over him. He always had that lead singer charm even though he never planned on being a frontman. Girls were never an issue for him, he seemed to get anyone he ever wanted.

Is it really that far-fetched that the one I had wanted him too?

Is that all that this is going to be from now on? Any girl the rest of us want, would just want Noah first?

I never pictured that this would be our future.

I never pictured my best friend of over a decade fucking my girlfriend then lying about it to my face.

I never pictured having to drag said lying, alcoholic best friend out of bed trying to get him to an AA meeting just so he could be sober enough for rehearsals.

I never imagined that out of the four of us, it would be me having to hold it all together. I never signed up for that. I signed up to play an instrument, to sign CDs, sleep in busses and sit in interviews. I never signed up to play manager, I never signed up to secretly scrape Noah off bar floors, be his personal caretaker and tentative AA sponsor. Doing all of that just to have it thrown in my face, to stand next to him – every day in rehearsals, in photoshoots, on stage, across the fucking dining table – knowing what he did and pretending that I’m okay with it.

I never thought I’d feel stuck in this band, this thing Noah and I have worked on and dreamed about since we were 15. I’ve poured so much of my life into this fucking band.

I can’t just up and leave. I’d have nothing left. I’d be nothing without them and I can’t be the bomb to blow us up. Especially not now when everything is just starting to take off. All this work would’ve been for nothing.

It’s not just my livelihood and dream, but theirs as well. I can’t do that to them.

And as much as I want to, as much as I’ve tried, I can’t leave Noah. We both know I’m right whether he wants to admit it or not. Nobody else would do what I do, nobody knows what I do, and nobody knows how to take care of him the way I do. He’s stubborn and stupid and won’t let anyone else in the way he’s let me in.

I don’t know why I’m the only one who has gotten the curse of his trust, but I have it and I can’t hand it off or set it down – no matter how heavy or suffocating it is.

Next Chapter -> 11 - Peak Fashion

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: The love for this story has honestly been so overwhelming (in a good way obv) and I couldn't be more grateful. I really thought this would flop lol so, thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

#2 POVs bc i was feeling SILLY #& by silly i mean the characters were not cooperating with the assignment #sorry if this chapter is all over the place i was having so much trouble with this one #this is the first time i’ve ever had multiple POVs in one chapter & i can’t tell if i like it or not #vallie wears princess by kilian perfume #i love how vallie's character is developing #i think vallie & kras' friendship came out so cute 😭#nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x oc #nick ruffilo x oc #nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc #bad omens x oc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x fem!oc #virality series #virality #christian anthony #christian kras anthony #christian anthony fanfic #kras anthony fanfic #chase atlantic #chase atlantic fanfic #concreteburialplot works

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