#concreteburialplot works

[concreteburialplot]

Draped Across

pairing: noah x fem!reader x nicholas

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 2.8k

warnings: established thruple, dom nick. switch noah, sub brat reader, spanking, degrading?, brat taming, cuckolding??, noah being nick's little helper, nick is so angry he doesn't speak?, piv (unprotected). creampie, porn without plot?, oral (f recieving), contactless orgasm? kinda?, cute tooth-rotting aftercare/sub space, the boys love cringey petnames here SORRY in advance, noah is obedient for once in his fucking life, 18+ MDNI

summary: you act up and end up draped over noah's lap while nick uses you :)

a/n; i rarely do porn w/o plot or really anything this short, but i just needed to get this out. pls enjoy 💗 [as with anything i write involving nick this got really grossly soft at the end I'M SORRY]

Your sassy mouth and disobedient behavior had landed you draped across Noah’s lap with your shorts and panties drawn down around your thighs.

His large hand lands a smack hard on the meat of your ass sending a sizzling jolt of pain up your spine causing you to buck up a bit. His spanks always hurt the worst with the size of his hand.

Nicholas had grown silent from his seething, knowing that if he said anything it would be out of line, so he let Noah take over for him.

“Now, you’ve really upset him, flower.” Noah uses his favorite nickname for you in a sweet but patronizing tone.

Noah roughly shoves your shorts further down your legs until Nick all but rips them off your body. His hand lands another smack on your ass followed by a hard grip that helps to pull your cheeks apart. His slender fingers slither between your legs, parting your lips.

Faster than you can process, Nick uses his boot to spread your feet apart, baring you open for him completely.

Noah’s fingertips linger by your near dripping entrance, “Oh what’s wrong did that make you wetter? Having your pretty pussy on display for him?”

You whine and squirm in his lap, knowing that his words were embarrassingly true.

Another hard smack causes you to yelp, “I asked you a question. Now answer me,” His fingertips circling your entrance, putting the slightest pressure to tease. “Are you such a little slut that you get off on being on display for us?”

“Grrh, yes.” You admit a small defeat and buck your hips up towards his fingers. “Yes, I like being on display for you.”

Noah’s middle and ring fingers dip inside you, just the tips though, gently scissoring you open. Your eyes widen knowing exactly what that meant.

The sharp sound of zipper rings from behind you, filling the room.

Noah fingertips spread your pussy open as much as it would allow. You hear Nicholas spit, followed the squelching of his hand around his cock.

Fear and anticipation pools in your tummy for the delicious burn his cock would bring.

His large, swollen tip slides between your folds and you shudder at his size. Butterflies unleash in your belly when he grazes your buzzing clit.

You wiggle around Noah’s lap both in excitement and terror, earning you another hard smack with his free hand. “Stay fucking still.” He demands, then harshly grasping your hip to stabilize you. “Be good and take it.”

A loud gasp leaves your mouth when you feel Nick press into you, stretching you around his cock. You hiss at the sting of it. He takes his time just getting into you but not much after, using his full force to dive straight into you. A sharp cry leaves your mouth when his tip lands hard into the deepest part of you. The direct impact into your core shoots pain up through your stomach; your eyes screw closed and suck in a harsh breath through your teeth.

Your whole body stills when you feel a pair of hands that aren’t Noah’s snake around your hips. The feeling of it simultaneously soothes and frightens you. Nick’s thumbs rub circles into the divots of your lower back. He’s angry with you, you know. But the small gesture grounds you a bit.

He pulls from you almost completely before landing hard into you again and starts building momentum rutting in and out of you. The pain of the stretch slowly melts away the more you adjust to him and you’re able to savor in him filling you entirely. It’s hard to even clench around his girth.

“Fuck.” You mutter out and his hands curl into your hips sternly, holding you firmly in place as he nearly splits you in half.

Noah gently tucks a chunk of hair behind your ear, “You take him so well.”

Rosy pink coats your cheeks at his compliment.

Noah’s length had been poking at your tummy the whole time you’d been on his lap but now he very subtly readjusts beneath you to let his own cock free. He lets it rest in the dip of your waist, just enjoying the movement of your entire body being fucked in his lap.

His fingers find their way back between your legs, his index and middle parting around Nicholas, just feeling where he enters you. You hear a groan rumble in Noah’s chest and feel his member throb and bounce against your exposed skin. He loves feeling him fucking you, getting some sort of twisted pleasure in being deprived of both of you.

“Now, say you’re sorry for being a disobedient little brat.” Noah commands.

You whine and wriggle in his lap keeping your mouth shut. As with most times, you wanted to see how far you could push their buttons.

“I said, say you’re sorry.” Another hard smack lands on your ass from Noah, this one harder than before. “Now you’re gonna have to count.”

You knew better than to not comply to that demand.

“One.”

“We’re still not hearing the words I asked.”

Another smack.

“Two.”

The burn of it lets you know that your ass is definitely bright red by now – which explains Nick’s acceleration, he loves seeing marks on you.

Two more hard spanks – Noah’s obviously getting frustrated with you.

“Three – ah – four.” You hiss.

A hand firmly and swiftly wraps your hair around his fist – with the veraciousness of it you know it’s Nicholas. While the gesture is painful and jarring, it releases a flurry of butterflies in your core. Your back arches up to Nick as much as it can.

“Don’t make him ask.” Noah warns with another smack.

You could defy Noah all day, easy, but Nicholas makes you weaker and breaks you down faster.

“Ah – fuck.” You suck in a breath. “Fuck, fine, I’m sorry!”

Noah glances up at Nick verifying if he’s satisfied with your answer although he already knows the response.

“Not good enough. Try again.” Noah’s hand grasps your hip to readjust you into a firmer position. “And you missed one, start over.” Followed by a new first spank.

“Fuck.” You mutter, the sting on your ass beginning to cross your pain threshold – but not quite enough yet. “One.”

Another, this one prickling tears in your eyes.

“Fuck!” You yelp. “Two.”

“I said, try again.”

Another, this one being the hardest and most painful one yet, definitely leaving a hand-shaped bruise.

“Ah! Three! Fuck!” You cry. “I’m sorry!”

Noah’s sizable hand gently rubs over the marks forming across your cheeks. “For what babydoll?” He pries.

“For being disobedient!” Tears welling in your eyes.

You feel his hand lift and hover over you again. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“Gah – fuck, fine – I’m sorry for being a disobedient little brat!” You repeat back the full statement with your voice cracking.

“Good girl.” He hums. The praise makes your heart swell. He again tucks your hair behind your ear, noticing the tears streaming down your face. “Oh, what’s wrong darling? Can’t handle the punishment for your behavior?”

His mean words worsen the buzzing in your clit and the ceased spanking lets you focus on Nick’s fat cock destroying you.

“Mmm.” You moan involuntarily.

“Oh,” Noah smirks, his fingers finding where Nick meets you again. “Or is it his big fucking cock spreading you open that’s making you cry?”

“Mhm.” You hum, reveling in the burn of it.

“Here let me help.” His fingers wrapping around the base of Nick’s cock and even with the added size of Noah’s fist, Nick is still able to reach into your deepest point. Noah’s cock bouncing against your waist tells you that he likes that fact as much as you do.

Nick seems to love the extra stimulation too, his thrusts getting viciously fast, fucking you dizzy.

“I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” He mutters, seemingly entranced with the size as well.

“Uh huh.” You pathetically spit out, your body just a vessel for their pleasure.

Noah pushes your hair to the other side of your neck with his free hand. “Tell me baby, who’s little slut are you?” He asks. “Who do you belong to?”

“F-fuck.” You’re so turned on and so wet that you feel like the slightest pressure on your clit could unravel you. “You.”

His fingers unwrap from Nick and glide down through your folds, halting just before your bud.

“Wrong.”

Your eyes widen realizing your mistake when the fingers around your hips dig into your hipbone painfully.

“Fuck – His.”

“Oh baby, c’mon, you know better than that. Who owns your pretty pussy hm? Who do you belong to?”

“Nick!”

“Good girl.” He praises, his fingertips now grazing your clit. “Again. Louder.”

“Nick.” You moan out louder than before, this time coming from your chest, between heaving breaths.

“Good girl.” He repeats with his fingers beginning tight circles into your swollen nub. “Louder. Again.”

A tight knot begins to form in your tummy, the feeling of being just a plaything to them sets your skin ablaze. “Nick!”

“Louder, c’mon you can be louder than that. You know he loves it when you scream.”

“Fuck! - Nick! Nick!”

Noah’s fingers speed up alongside of Nick’s thrusts. His momentum getting quick and sloppy, clearly just as close as you.

“Nick. Nick. Nick.” You mindlessly repeat with your head so fuzzy and full of him that he’s all you could think of.

“That’s it baby, just like that.” Noah spits down on his own member, still just getting stimulation from your fucked body moving against him. “He’s close, you just gotta wait, okay? Can you do that?”

You nod, still just repeating his name like a prayer, the brink of your orgasm clearing your mind of anything else.

Finally, Nick groans deeply and lands hard in you with his cock twitching, painting your walls white and filling you completely.

“Okay baby, let go for us, will you?” Noah doesn’t even finish his statement before you’re blinded by your own orgasm.

Screams and curses of Nick’s name rip from your throat as euphoria washes over you, your skin buzzing as Nick continues to fuck you through his climax.

Whiny, desperate moans tumble from Noah’s lips as you feel his warm cum splay all over your back, completely hands free.

You fall limp across Noah’s lap, your breathing in sync with each other. While Noah was in control this session, it’s always Nicholas behind the wheel.

He belongs to him as much as you do.

There’s a bit of an exchange between them you can’t quite make out since you’re still coming down from your high but all you feel is them moving you around like a ragdoll. Suddenly you realize you’re now draped across Nick’s lap.

“Knees.” He instructs Noah, the first thing he’d said this whole time.

Noah obeys, landing on his knees behind your dripping core.

“Clean her up.”

Your eyes widen at his words and almost instantly his tongue brushes through your folds and dips into your entrance.

“Good boy.”

Noah hums happily against you at the praise.

Nick’s fingers tracing through your hair tenderly. “You did so good angel. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Mhm.”  

You’re torn between humming and melting into his touch or releasing the moan building in your tummy. Noah seemingly enjoys his task, eating you like he’s been starving for a lifetime, practically sucking Nick’s cum right out of you.

“I know he hurt you quite a bit didn’t he bunny?” He asks quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. His voice is soft and gentle, much different than how he was just talking to Noah or anything he would’ve said if he had spoken while he was inside of you.

You begin to nod but hiss in pain when Noah’s tongue grazes the base of your entrance where Nick stretched you out the most. Noah pauses for a second before pressing his lips to the sensitive area.

“Maybe we should go wash up huh? Get you guys in a nice warm bath.” Nick’s hand finds your cheek to support your head. “Does that sound good?”

“Mhm.” You hum tiredly and nuzzle into his palm.

“Okay. When he’s done, we’ll get you both nice and clean. Maybe put an ice pack on your pretty, red ass?”

“Please.”

“You both did so good for me. Noah did a good job taking control didn’t he?” Nick asks.

“Mhm.” You nod with a lazy smile, barely able to keep your eyes open as the chemical rush begins to crash and take its toll on you.

Once Noah finishes cleaning you up, Nick carries you over to a large corner bathtub. Noah takes the initiative to start filling the tub at a good temperature. He even takes a scoop of bath salts with dried rose petals and spreads them across the filling tub to help with the pain.

“You want some bubbles bunny?” Nick asks Noah sweetly. The nickname directed at him this time makes his cheeks turn bubblegum pink. “Or maybe a bath bomb?”

He nods quickly at the bath bomb suggestion, very clearly slipping into a deep sub space of his own.

Nicholas gently places you in the tub while Noah goes to a container filled with bath supplies. He returns with a blue spaceship cupped in both hands, the edges of it bubble and fizz in his palms since his hands were still wet from testing the water.

“Good choice.” Nick beams at him and gestures to the tub. “C’mon, don’t let it fizz all in your hands.” He teases.

Noah excitedly gets in the tub but slow enough to not disturb you. Nick nods when Noah goes to ask if he’s allowed to set it down yet.

The spaceship sizzles in the warm water and spins slowly in the waves. Dark blue, purple, pink, and even a bit of shimmery gold start to fizzle out from the ship soon staining the water a dark galaxy.

Nick sits at the edge of the tub with just his legs in the water with you nestled between them. While soaking, he carefully washes and conditions your hair. His fingers skillfully comb through your locks, gently breaking up any knots. Once he’s washed out all the soap he moves to your scalp, softly massaging it as you rest your head on his thigh. You hum in contentment.

Once he’s made sure you’re satisfied, he moves on to Noah, taking his long hair between his hands just as he did with yours.

Your eyelids are heavy as you watch Noah pick three rubber duckies – one pink, one yellow, one blue – from the edge of the tub and precariously place them into the water. His eyes are soft and mesmerized as he watches them spin alongside the drifting bath bomb remnants. The twirling colors and duckies lull him into a comforting, hyper-fixated trance. Noah hums against Nick’s thigh, his eyes matching yours in their sleepiness.

The space between you three is quiet but peaceful, comfortable, and full of love.

Nicholas unplugs the tub, and the water begins to drain slowly. If you had anymore fight left in you, you’d push to stay in longer but all you want to do is get nuzzled between your boys in bed.

He brings you both plush towels and helps you dry off. Before you’re able to get dressed, you’re once again across Nick’s lap off the edge of the bed, but this time for a much different reason. He squeezes out some healing gel-cream into the palm of his inked hand and carefully spreads it across your bruised cheeks. The coolness of the cream helps ease and numb the pain. It brings you comfort knowing that while both of them can be quite mean in the moment, they will always be soft with you like this afterwards.

“Does that feel better?” He asks and you nod. “Good.” He smiles softly. “I picked out some PJs for you on the dresser if you wanna bring them over?”

You carefully peel yourself from his lap and bring over the silk PJs. He holds open the shorts for you to step into and helps slip the top over your head. His hands cup your cheeks and tilts your face up to him. “I love you.”

His eyes lean more grey in the dim light of your bedroom. You beam sweetly up at him and nuzzle into his palm. “Love you more.”

Abruptly, Noah pulls himself on his knees to the edge of the bed and throws his lanky arms around both of your necks. “Love you most!”

You giggle at Noah’s silliness and how the squeeze squished you into Nick’s chest. You’d stay squished there forever by them if you could.

Shortly after, you three get cozy in bed – you curled around knocked-out Noah and Nick curled around you. Being smushed between their bodies means that the smell of their mixed colognes cocoons you in your favorite scent. With a deep inhale, you take in the moment. You were exactly where you belong.

No one could ever take away how perfectly you three fit together.

tag list; @darksigns-exe @deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @blackveilomens @somebodyels3 @shilohrosechicken @th4t-em0-k1d @midnight-eternals @hedonists

a/n; thank you for reading if you did! smut isn’t really my strong suit so i apologize if it wasn't that good 😬 and IM SORRY IT WAS MUSHY AT THE END OKAY………

Thank you for any support you guys ever give me on any of my works, it truly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my words and lil plots.

let me know if you liked it! i love hearing your thoughts

#don't think about the logistics too much ok #sorry about the names okAY #concreteburialplot works #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo rpf #nick ruffilo x reader #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x reader #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nick ruffilo smut #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

[ladyveronikawrites]

Bad Omens Sweet and Cute Fic Recs for Valentine's Day

in no particular order of course, just some of my favs and some shared in the server. Please enjoy🩷 (dividers by @saradika-graphics)

@darksigns-exe

Sweet Like Honey - Caught In The Rain

Anywhere I Go - Nick x Noah x Laurie (OFC)

Just Like Heaven! (prequel to All Things Yet to Come)

All The Things Yet To Come - Nicholas Ruffilo x OFC

My Endless Distraction - Nicholas Ruffilo/Noah Sebastian/OFC

Then We Were Three

@deathblacksmoke

call me when you get the chance

@circle-with-me

it’s golden, like daylight

@malice-ov-mercy

Sickly

Waking Up in Vegas

@to-be-written

Will You Marry Me One Last Time?

Caffeine and Chemistry masterlist

@ravieisunhinged

Valentine’s Day

@crimson-calligraphyx

Teach Me

@concreteburialplot

Delicate Beginning Rush

@sinkingteethinwhitenoise

Limoncello Masterlist

@measuredingold

safety net

Falling For You

@thefallennightmare

Rest

My Work

Winter Storm

"You Can Barely Speak, So Cute"

#bad omens fanfiction #fic recs #author recs #happy valentine's day

[burninlovebutler]

update

i've changed the blog name that i follow/comment/message/etc from to -> @recycledn0stalgia

so if you see that name it's me

i changed it since i've created several sideblogs over the past couple months for other interests & wanted a more neutral blog to follow/comment/etc from

in case anyone has similar interests, here are other said sideblogs;

noah sebastian/bad omens -> @concreteburialplot 🗡️⛓️

[in case you also like noah/bad omens/my writing, i have a fic in the works with noah -- i’ve been spending the most time here lately]

harry styles -> @strawberrymilk-styles 🍓🥛

matty healy/the 1975 -> @donotlikementhols 🚬🐀

my mental health/life haven’t been that good or stable so i apologize if i’m a mess / am late on everything / more active other places - i’m sucking dopamine out of every little thing i can

#the way noah grabs the mic is sick and twisted #i love him #i have vast interests and needed places to scream about them #so #yeah #with award season being over & the lack of new austin content i've found myself spending more time in those blogs #and making more content for them #anyway if u don't like any of those thats fine im still here #but i would recommend checking them out if you havent #if you fall or are in love w any of them pls feel free to scream about them in my DMs #okay bye ily #sorry i been inactive #austin butler #elvis presley

[concreteburialplot]

Delicate Beginning Rush

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!reader

masterlist: here | crossposted; ao3 | word count: 4.8k

warnings: alcohol, fluff??? who am i ????¿, shy nerdy nicholas, awkward fumbling drunk sex, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, nick has a big massive fat-, cum play ??, subby nick if you squint, reader doesn’t know anything about star wars / pop culture ? lol, au; college omens, 18+ MDNI

summary; your friend drags you to a house party you never wanted to be at but end up being grateful when a cute shy boy changes the course of your night

a/n: this is a work of fiction, don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

Around you rages a random college house party that your roommate dragged you to. The house itself was huge and almost dollhouse-like. You weren’t sure who’s party it was or who all lived there, all you did know was that your friend was on a mission. You’ve met the group of boys your friend was interested in a couple times. She’s been trying to get with one… or two of them? You aren’t quite sure anymore. But they were some boys from your English class that happened to be in a band – at least that’s what you’d gathered with various random study dates with them. They were chill, but you could tell that they were mostly interested in your roommate. At least that’s what it seemed like, with the way they’d usually only pay mind to her while you’d be working on assignments.

But now, you sit on the kitchen counter of this giant house with a raven-haired tattooed boy standing between your legs. You both are tipsy, giggly messes.

Your hands intertwined with his and playfully sway back and forth at his sides; the warm alcohol running through your veins makes you both more touchy-feely than normal. The drink coats your body in a tingly warmth.

“How come I didn’t know you were so funny huh?” You nudge his shoulder with the right set of your connected hands. Your fingers slip from the hold and brings the plastic cup full of neon blue to your lips. You take a sip looking up at him through glassy eyes over the white ridge of the cup. The sickeningly sweet beverage burns your throat with at least 3 different liquors mixed.

His tan cheeks are tinted peachy pink from the alcohol and a sweet smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t know.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t really talk much I guess.”

Which was true. Now thinking about it, in all your group hangouts he was mostly silent, only speaking when spoken to. The other three boys were loud and quite talkative. Especially the two your roommate was pining after, both with long hair and one with an accent. It really depended on the day which she was leaning towards more. Tonight, it was Jolly, the one with the accent.

“Yeah, I noticed that.” You say softly, “But you seem much more talkative now with some of…” You hold up the horrid concoction you were given, “Whatever this is.”

He smiles, “Yeah, I guess it helps me out of my shell a little.”

It seemed to help him out of his shell a lot, with him talking to you for the past hour and making you laugh harder than you had in a while. You barely even knew what his voice sounded like before tonight. But you found that you really enjoyed it, it was deep and raspy but upticks when he’s excited about something. It swirls a flurry of butterflies in your tummy that you write off as just the alcohol’s doing.

“Well, I quite like you out of your shell Nicholas.” You beam sitting up. One arm wrapping around your own midsection and the other feeding more sips of drink to your mouth. You find the edges of your lips curling at how the blue liquid tinted the inside of his lips. You wonder if the stain on his mouth tastes just as sweet as the drink.

A blush coats his cheeks, and his eyes fall to his cup, “Oh, you can call me Nick.”

“Alright, Nick.” You grin and take the last sip of your drink. “You know it’s awfully loud in here.” You use a tried-and-true line.

“Oh, well, we could um,” He knocks back the last of his own drink. “We could go up to my room?” He offers kindly.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

“Sure, I think that’s a great idea.”

You hop off the counter and he takes your hand, weaving you through the crowded party and up the stairs. He pulls you into his room, the second door to the right. The room was cleaner and more decorated than you’d expect from a random college boy.

Your eyes wander across the shelves of figurines, books, and posters on the walls. It was all quite… “nerdy”, the only thing you could really recognize was Star Wars while the rest just seemed like miscellaneous anime memorabilia. It didn’t make it any less pretty or interesting, quite the opposite, you were awestruck.

Another wall was covered in framed records that hung above a bookshelf filled with vinyls and topped with a record player. Your gaze flows down to where propped guitars litter the floor.

“It’s lame I know.” He scratches the back of his neck with a subtle embarrassment on his face.

The mandatory college boy light strips around the room were set to purple and moving the light in a pattern – alternating between blocks of bright violent and dim violet. Your eyes followed the blocks as they trailed along the ceiling. The light strips and a warm yellow lamp on his night were the only sources of illumination.  

“No, no.” Your eyes finally land on Nick again. “I think it’s really cool.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, it’s definitely not that.”

“Most boys’ rooms are bare with a mattress on the floor. Your room is so full of personality… and you have a bed frame.” You laugh. “It’s cool. I promise.”

The more you looked at his personality-filled room, the more you wondered how he kept all of this contained. You would’ve never guessed this is what his room would look like. But you sure were happy you were found out.

“Well, I’m glad you think so.” He says and sort of shifts on his heels. He picks up some random fidget toy and begins playing with it, it’s obvious he’s a little nervous.

You carefully sat on the bed, making sure not to disrupt the nicely made sheets.

“I don’t know anything about that stuff.” You say naively. You’ve been around enough nerdy boys to know that always gets them going.

“Of what? Star Wars?” His glassy eyes grow wide and shocked.

You giggle at his reaction, “Yeah, any of it really. Like all this stuff in here. Except the music, obviously.”

“No way.” He scoffs. “There’s no way you’ve never even seen one Star Wars movie?”

“Nope.” You lift your shoulders to a shrug, “But I’m sure you’re about to tell me about it.”

“Well, I mean, it’s only my civil duty to inform you about them.” The edge of his mouth pulls into a playful grin.

You bite down on your lip to stifle another liquor-soaked giggle. “Alright. Well, let’s hear it then.”

The way the corners of his lips curl directly into his cheekbones is so adorable you don’t even mind that he’s derailed your mission of hooking up.  You pull yourself further back into his bed making room for him.

“Okay, so.” He says excitedly with an uptick in his voice and scrambles to sit next to you on the bed. He takes an inhale before beginning to speak, almost like he doesn’t even know where to start.

Even though you were originally in this for something completely different, now you don’t mind just sitting here and listening to him excitedly talk about … whatever he’s talking about.

You let him drunkenly ramble without interrupting him, nodding at any points he was making. He lost you fairly early on, when he started to explain how the movies are chronologically not in order or something along those lines. But that didn’t stop you from just listening to him speak or admire how animated he got with his hands while explaining things.

He was just so cute – the way when he smiled, really smiled, it lit up his whole face. This smile reached his eyes, lighting them up with so much life. This was the first time you really noticed his eyes, with the purple lights reflecting in them you couldn’t even tell what color they truly were – they looked grey, then blue, then green all at once. When you were really lost in them is when he caught you.

He reeled his arms back to his body, giving you a little embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.” His gaze fell before bashfully meeting you again.

“No, no, no.” You quickly answer, immediately feeling guilty for not paying enough attention. “I liked listening to you.”

“Oh, you don’t gotta say that.” A light pink coats his cheeks before his eyes fall to his fiddling fingers. “I’m used to it. Most people don’t tend to listen to me anyway.”

Your chest twists at the thought of anyone ever making him feel unheard or ignored.

“Hey, no.” You reach between you and grab his wrist, then meet his eyes. “I was listening to you. I really like hearing you talk. Okay? You can keep going if you want.”

He blushes a little more and gives a small nod. “Okay.”

He continues on some tangent he left hanging, and you return to your place with your chin on your palm supported by an elbow to your knee.

You didn’t lie, you really do like listening to him – you said nothing about understanding anything he said. Especially with how fuzzy your head is right now, you don’t understand a single word he’s saying. All you can pay attention to is the smooth waves of his cadence and his adorable mannerisms.

He pauses and chuckles nervously, “What? Did I lose you again?”

The edges of your lips curl up, and you shake your head.

“No.” You hum and press your lips together as you reach up to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I’m just wondering if you tell every girl you bring up here about Star Wars.” You giggle.

He nearly scoffs at even the idea. “No, definitely not.” He reaches up to scratch his arm “Mostly because I never really bring anyone up here. I usually stay here during their parties. They’re not really my thing.” He shrugs and fidgets with his thumbs as he speaks, transfixed on them while occasionally looking up to meet your eyes. “I don’t really like the loud music, or the people… or the alcohol usually. Really none of it is for me.”

“Well, I’m really glad you were down there tonight.” You smile sweetly, just admiring how pretty and delicate he is. You move your hand just a bit forward so that the tips of your fingers interlace with his and lean towards him.

A shy grin spreads across his lips, “Yeah me too.” He replies softly while matching your actions and moving closer to you. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and you can’t help but mirror it. His lips were perfect and plump and all you wanted to do was be on them.

From all the pieces of him you’ve gathered tonight, it’s easy to assume that he’s probably pretty anxious and can’t read social cues that well. So, you decide to spell it out for him.

“I want you to kiss me, Nick.” You breathe into the gap between your lips.

He gives you a quick but urgent nod before softly crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss ignites sparks all over your body, firecrackers exploding within each cell. Your hand finds his cheek to pull him in closer. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip asking for entrance and you oblige without a second thought.

His tongue hesitantly flicks at yours which begins a playful dance between them. It’s not rough or dominance-seeking, it’s needy and soft.

You tangle both hands into his long long locks and lean back on his bed, pulling him on top of you between your legs without ever breaking the kiss.

He’s so gentle with you. His hands stationed at each end of your body, one soft on your face and the other resting tenderly on your side. His tongue was skillful but mellow, just enjoying the kiss with you. It’s not often a guy wants to take his time and not rush, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he was setting the pace.

It’s exciting and delicious all at once.

Your hand meets his face to bring him even closer before reaching up and tangling your fingers into his dark hair again. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s something woodsy and… spicy? Sweet, but peppery. The smell of his cologne goes straight down between your legs and worsens the throbbing there.

You continue the lazy kissing but take the lead again and slowly guide his hand to your tit, letting him know that it’s okay to touch you. He doesn’t need much convincing; his hand begins needing the soft tissue of your breast over thin t-shirt fabric. His fingertips lightly pinch your pebbled nipple. You can’t help but let out a tiny whine into his mouth.

You’re reminded of just how drunk you are when your numbed fingertips trail down his shirt to his belt and fumble with it. You struggle with the button and the zipper, but you finally reach his hardening cock. He lets out a small groan once you start palming him over his boxers. While you can’t even see it, you can tell it’s big – which surprises you, especially with his shy demeanor and the tight-ass pants he usually wears.

He follows suit, letting his hand trail down your side until it’s between your thighs beneath your skirt, running a finger between your panty-covered lips. You moan into the kiss; you need him like air – more than just his finger over cotton.

Since he seems to base his actions and pace on yours, probably out of courtesy to make sure he’s not crossing any lines, you dip your hand past the wide band of his boxer briefs. His cock is thick and heavy in your hand as you begin pumping him within his boxers.

It works, he dips into your panties and lets his fingers explore you. He rounds your clit nearly causing your entire body to convulse. Then he slowly brings them down to your entrance which makes you immediately roll your hips up towards his hand – your core aching to have something, anything inside you. A louder moan escapes once you feel two fingers slip inside you.

You pump his large member in your hand, and you can feel his pulse in it. The walls around his fingers tighten once he starts rutting into your fist – he needs you just as badly. You break the kiss, and your chests rise and fall rapidly together. He doesn’t pull away, instead, he presses his forehead against yours.

“Jesus fucking christ you’re so fucking big.” You breathe out heavily between you two.

Pink flushes across his cheeks in the cutest way. “Thanks.” He replies shortly almost as if he’s ashamed to receive the compliment.

Your brows knit together and your head tilts to the side. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I-”

“No, no, it’s not that it’s just…” He presses his lips together for a moment. “It’s big.”

You chuckle, “I mean yeah, every guy says that right?”

“It’s just… I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He says sheepishly. “If you want to go further that is, of course.”

You watch him with a skeptical gaze trying to analyze his features to see if he’s joking but, he seems serious. Of course, he feels big in your hand, but you don’t have a full gauge of it – you can’t see it. Surely it can’t be that big. He’s probably just exaggerating. Regardless, you find it endearing that he’s so concerned about hurting you.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” You wave off the conversation because you enthusiastically want to get back to the journey you were on before.

His lips urgently find yours again and his fingers continue their plight inside you – two curling right into your sweet spot and his thumb rolling small circles into your swollen clit. You’re grateful for the loud party downstairs that masks some of the noises you’re making.

Your hand works on him at the same pace as his fingers do on you. Deep groans rumble in his chest and in the back of his throat.

Breathlessly, you pull from the kiss looking up at him like he’s a glass of water after a trek through the desert. “Fuck- I” A moan slips from you. “Fuck I need you. I need your cock.”

“Are you sure?” He asks and pulls away, “Because I–“

The pulsing in your core outweighs your patience and you hastily tug down his pants, letting his cock spring out fully.

Your eyes widen at his size. He wasn’t joking - he’s fucking massive. So massive in fact that it almost terrifies you and makes you question if it could even fit inside you. It’s almost as long as your arm and thicker than a can of RedBull.

Nick must’ve picked up on your fear because his cheeks grow rosy in embarrassment. “See. I told you.” He says dishearteningly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to try, I really understand. Just let me eat you instead?”

You blink at him, somewhat taken aback by the whole situation. As much as you wanted to try – and you really wanted to try, the worry of you both being too drunk to properly prep you was imminent and you really didn’t want to risk him hurting you.

“Okay…” You agree timidly. “Sure.”

He smiles seeming happy to just be able to make you feel good regardless. His lips meet yours again and repeat the same soft dance as earlier for a moment before beginning to pepper kisses down your body. First, your neck, giving you open-mouth kisses with an occasional suck. Then, down your torso and tummy until he’s finally between your legs. He swiftly slips your panties off.

His inked fingers help to spread you open, using your own arousal to easily slide between your lips.

“So pretty.” He mumbles before diving in causing an abrupt whine from you at the sudden stimulation.

His lips and tongue work as delicately and meticulously between your folds as they did with your mouth. You could swear his tongue was made of some sort of magic from how good he was making you feel already. His tongue was masterful in how it would flatten and then curve around your swollen clit.

You peer down at him at work, and he was so beautiful, eating you like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looks up at you with lustful but sweet green-grey eyes. They make your breath hitch in your throat.

It was artistic how he’d move his tongue up and down in swirly wavy patterns serving you a perfect rhythm of stimulation then rest then repeat. Not too fast, not too slow, not too hard, not too light. His tongue was immaculate.

“Fuck Nick,” You groan, letting your head fall harshly back on the pillow and your hand dives into his hair again. “Fuck don’t stop, that feels so fucking good- Fuck.”

The knot in your tummy grew more with each twist of his tongue and when he started incorporating his fingers again, hitting just the right spot, you knew you were done for.

“God, fuck!” You moan out loudly, tugging at his roots and rutting your hips up into his mouth. The knot threatening to snap at any given flick of his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, Nick, fuck I’m gonna cum!”

He speeds his pace up ever so slightly, not enough to ruin your ride but just enough to push you over the edge. He even lets out a moan against your cunt letting you know that really fucking likes the way you’re reacting to him.

Your grip on his hair is tight and probably painful but the screams that leave your throat distract you from staying gentle. Your legs clamp around his head and your back arches from the bed as you release fully onto him. He groans deeply against you again, seemingly even more turned on than before.

He doesn’t stop, no matter how tight your legs suffocate him or how hard you pull at his hair. He doesn’t stop for a second. His speed is perfect, enough to keep you going but not enough to overstimulate you. He keeps you riding a delicate tightrope, stretching your climax out as far as he can.

Your tummy fills with rampant butterflies and a buzzing spreads across your skin as he gently carries you into another orgasm. Pleasure crashes into you like a tidal wave to shore. Every inch of your body reacts to him, bending to his skillful craft.

Screams erupt from the base of your throat, your body not able to contain the rush of euphoria that he’s sent you into. Your hips rut up into his mouth and your walls spasm around his fingers but he keeps his actions steady and consistent. His fingers curl and thrust into you harmoniously with his tongue, letting you ride out your high on his face.

You pat his head a bit to indicate you were done. He looks up at you so happy, so grateful to serve you. His eyes are bright and full of pride that he was able to make you feel that good.

He pulls away, revealing him working his still-hard cock in his hand. Watching him move his fist up and down his veiny shaft and roll around his head has you buzzing again. He slips his fingers from you and replaces his working hand with the one covered in your juices, using your orgasm as lubricant.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, his eyes still fixated on your dripping cunt.

Your hand slithers down between your legs and use two fingers to spread yourself open for him. His tongue swipes between his lips as you begin playing with yourself – dipping into your entrance to gather some arousal to bring up to your pulsing clit.

You bite down on your bottom lip while his hand speeds up on his member, the sight of it turning you on beyond belief – especially since he was using your slick to work himself. He pumps his member faster and faster, his chest heaving accordingly. You’re both transfixed on each other’s actions, just getting off at the sight of the other fucking themselves.

The head of his cock is so swollen and dark red and leaking precum. It’s massive and could probably fill your entire mouth if you were to suck him off. His hand grows erratic and sloppy as his other keeps him propped up on the bed.  

You feel a 3rd climax creeping up on you, filling your bud with nerves begging for relief again. Your free hand slides up your torso to squeeze your breast, watching him start to unravel. Your fingers work precise circles around your nub, occasionally moving down into your entrance. You never knew how powerful it could feel watching a man get off on just the sight of you. You loved the way his eyes tracked your fingers, how they’d widen if you spread your folds for him, how his hand would speed up if you fucked yourself.

“F-fuck.” He mutters, letting himself rest down on his elbow. “Ah-uh- fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He quickly lifts his shirt to reveal his tummy just before milky white ribbons decorate the tattoos there. His eyes flutter close, and his head lulls back as he works every bit of cum out of himself. His lips part slightly, letting delicious groans and whimpers pour from his mouth.

Thankfully, you’re just as close and his moans along with the sight of him coating himself in cum push you over the edge. Flashing white blinds your sight and your thighs clamp around your hand. Your fingers don’t stop moving until his hand does.

You ride out your highs together before your bodies relax back into the bed. You lay there breathless beside him, your chests rising and falling rhythmically. He hadn’t even fucked you but that was still some of the hottest sex you’d ever had. God, his tongue was nothing short of magical.

The silence between you both is awkward but endearing, unfamiliar but delicate. Your tummy fills with fluttering butterflies just at his proximity. Finding a guy who made you feel like this was the last thing you expected to happen tonight.

A chill from the air conditioning reminds you that you’re still bare from the waist down. Strawberry pink flushes your cheeks as you lower your skirt back down. He follows suit and tucks himself back into his boxers.

You nervously chuckle and go to speak but he starts at the same time as you. The blush on your cheek only worsens.

“Oh sorry I-“ You both fumble over each other’s words again.

“You go.” He offers.

“No, no you go.” You reply, motioning for him to speak.

He chuckles with his eyes adverting yours. “Um, sorry if – if, you didn’t want, erm, this.” Referencing his jerking off.

“No – no it was –“

“You just – you sounded so pretty.” He blurts out. “And you tasted so good… I just, got worked up.” His cheeks and the tip of his nose coated in a deep pink. “Sorry.”

You try to keep yourself from smiling too big because you find his embarrassment so cute.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You reassure, and for some reason, it tints your cheeks too.

“You did?” He asks almost shocked.

“Mhm.” You reply, digging your teeth into your lip and nod. You liked it more than wanted to admit. “A lot.”

“Okay.” He nods bashfully. “I, um, I’m gonna clean up now. Can I get you anything?”

“Hmm, maybe a water when you’re done?”

“Okay.” He sits up a bit. “Um, do you mind just kind of, looking away?”

Your eyes furrow and your head tilts at him in confusion but you comply. “Sure.” You cover your eyes with your hands. “Why am I looking away?” You question, seeing as you just saw a lot of him.

He shifts in the bed, and you hear him slip his shirt off, probably to use it to clean up his mess.

“I don’t know. I just don’t like to be shirtless around people, I guess.” He answers shyly.

“Oh, I’m sure you look good!”

“No.” He scoffs adamantly, “Definitely not.”

“I don’t believe you.” You hum, wiggling a bit while still covering your eyes. “But I’ll take your word for… for now.”

You sense him get off the bed and open some drawers. After a few moments, he lets you know it’s okay to look again. You open your eyes to see that he’s changed into a graphic tee and a pair of shorts that have some kind of wolf design on them. He somehow looks even better than before.

He returns with two bottles of water, one for you and one for him. He shuts the bedroom door so gently like he’s trying not to wake anyone, as if there isn’t a raging party downstairs. He hands you a water bottle before he cracks his own open and takes a gulp.

“Thanks.” You say with a small smile. As you steal your first sip, you take note of his shirt. “Deft-tones?” You sound out the word trying to make out what it means. “Is that a band or something?”

The look that washes over his face as he’s drinking is pure shock and confusion. You may as well have told him you didn’t know who Mickey Mouse was. He abruptly pulls the bottle from his lips with furrowed brows, “You’ve never heard of Deftones?”

You press your lips together and shake your head, “Nope.”

“You’ve never watched Star Wars and you’ve never listened to Deftones? What rock have you been hiding under?” He teases.

“I don’t know, a heavy one I guess.” You giggle and give him a shrug.

“Oh man. If I wasn’t still so drunk right now, I’d play you something.” He laughs and sits on the bed beside you. “But anything I play right now is gonna sound like ass.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” You smirk and shake your head. You hadn’t heard his band play, but judging by how skilled his fingers were, he had to be good.

“No, no. It’s true. But you’ve gotta let me play something for you sometime.” His grin begins wide then shortens. “If you want that is.”

Right then, you couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.

“I’d love that.”

tag list; i don't currently have a general tag list for all my fics so if you'd like to be added to that pls lmk!

a/n; thank you for reading if you did! i'm not that good at writing smut so sorry if it wasn't that great! i really enjoyed writing this one bc was just so fluffy and awkward and sweet, which is so different than anything else that i normally ever write LOL

Thank you for any support you guys ever give me on any of my works, it truly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my words and lil plots.

let me know if you liked it! i love hearing your thoughts 🩷

#i never write fluff this was so odd for me #but nick just makes me so soft #i love putting the omens in college lol #i love a good college au #i once again threw out my thesaurus for this lol sorry #concreteburialplot works #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo x reader #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #bad omens smut #nicholas ruffilo smut #nick ruffilo smut #nick ruffilo rpf

[concreteburialplot]

Cool About It // 01

01 - Breaking & Entering

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 6.3k

summary; Noah runs into an old friend while visiting his hometown for the holidays. Noah convinces Amelia to meet him on the playground they grew up on to catch up. Reminiscing leads them to a midnight adventure that reminds them all too much of the past.

warnings; alcohol consumption, breaking & entering? stealing? kinda?, hallmark-y, nostalgic, talks of family trauma, cops (acab!), vaguely sad & distraught Noah, uses 'Sebastian' as his last name, 18+ MDNI

disclaimer; welcome to my new short series! reminder that this is hallmark-y bc i began writing it in December lol i decided to challenge myself w this fic in multiple ways, one of the biggest ones was writing it in 3rd person vs my comfy world of 1st or 2nd person. I’ve never written in 3rd person so, if it’s not my best, i apologize, i’m sure it will improve lol

a/n: this is au and follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

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

It had been quite a busy morning, and Amelia was slowly making her way through the longest line she’d had in a while. She finished heating up a cinnamon roll and snapped a lid on what felt like the 75th peppermint mocha she’d made that day.

“Thanks.” Mumbled the distracted patron and stepped off to the side to grab extra napkins.

“Next.” She said while shuffling dollar bills into the clangy register, then looked up motioning to the last customer. Her hazel eyes landed on a man covered in tattoos pre-occupied on his phone. “Next!” Her call was louder than before and this time edged with impatient annoyance.

A familiar pair of dark brown eyes snapped up at her, his gaze more startled than angry.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together and as if on cue, the register dinged closed in time with her realization.

She’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Noah?”

The soft velvet of her voice yanked each edge of Noah’s mouth into a wide toothy smile. “Scout?” He asked in the same caught-off-guard tone. His voice was much deeper than she remembered, and he seemed taller, if that was even possible.

She chuckled at the fact that he used his old nickname for her and felt a tinge of warmth bloom on her cheeks. The ends of her pink lips curled up into an adorably genuine smile. “What are you doing here?” She pressed her palms flat against the cold counter leaning forward and letting soft chocolate curls spill over her shoulder.

“Oh, uh, I’m here with Nicholas.” He thumbed over his shoulder towards the town. “He’s here visiting his family, I just tagged along.”

Tagged along.

She should’ve known, of course Noah would be down here with Nick’s family for Christmas. Where else would he be?

“Oh,” She smiled tenderly at his words and nodded. “Of course.”

Every now and then she’d run into Nicholas whenever he came back to town or ran into his parents while out and about, but it was never anything of significance. Whenever it was Nicholas, she wanted more than anything to inquire about Noah or the band but always kept the interactions short, sweet and reserved. The last thing she wanted was to come off as wanting to “catch up” after they gained a larger audience for clout.

He grinned back at her and there was a quiet moment shared between them, as if they both didn’t know what to say. The feeling in the air swung from having nothing to say to having so many words that it was overwhelming to speak.

The gentle moment was broken by the bell dinging above the door as a new customer walked in.

Her first impulse was to make his usual but stopped herself. “Oh um, whatcha want?” She asked, realizing that his tastes had probably changed since he was 16.

“Just a vanilla cold brew is fine, thank you.” He said with a tight-lipped smile, feeling awkward that she was serving him.

She went ahead and filled his cup with the dark amber liquid. “Do you want a snickerdoodle cookie? They’re freshly baked.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Yes please, they’re my favorite.”

She remembered.

Of course, she did.

How could one forget staying up til 2 am at Nick’s house baking cookies and having Top Chef-level trials trying to achieve the perfect spice mixture for what Noah called, “The Most Snick-of-Doodles that could ever Doodle.”

“You got it.” She smiled placing some pastries into a brown paper bag before handing it to him. “I threw in a cinnamon roll for Nicholas, I made sure to give him the one with the most icing.”

“Oh, he’ll love that.” He chuckled gently taking the bag along with his drink. “We should um, catch up soon?”

“Sure.” She pressed her lips together to keep her grin from growing too wide.

Cold fallen leaves crunched beneath Amelia’s feet as she navigated through a park that she hadn’t stepped foot on in a good ten years. A cool chill made her tug her thick knit cardigan tight around her thin frame.

“Noah?” She delicately whisper-yelled into the darkness, the meet-up destination barely lit by the full ivory moon. She should’ve known that Noah wouldn’t be content with catching up at a restaurant or at her house or anywhere normal.

“Scout!” He replied from the swings a bit to her left. A chuckle left his lips, and he quickly clicked the flashlight on his phone, waving it in the air like a search light.

A deep shade of embarrassment coated her pale cheeks, “There’s no streetlights over here!” She walked over and lightly smacked his arm. “It’s dangerous you know.” The weight of her body creaked the metal frame when she fell into the blue swing seat.

“Or you’re just getting old and need glasses.” He teased with a slight slur riding the end of his words.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” She responded with a playful glare.

She looked over at him thinking how funny it was seeing him so large and full grown in such a tiny, low swing. It looked extremely disproportionate and goofy, like a Great Dane in a shopping cart.

He handed her a bottle of cheap red wine, half drank already.

“Oh, got started without me huh?” She sassed before stealing the bottle from his fingers. “Couldn’t have done beer?” She tips the glass bottle until bitter, dry alcohol infiltrates every tastebud, reminding her why she’d switched to martinis or seltzers in her later years.

He waved her off with a tsk, “Too much hassle. Wine was easier. And you took fuckin’ forever!”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes playfully, it wasn’t like she was all that upset over the wine over beer, just that he drank so much of it already. She pressed the mouth of the bottle to her lips once more taking another hefty swig and handed it back to him. “Where’s Nick?”

“Ah,” He swiped the bottle back and took a long gulp. “You know, family stuff.” He wiped the back of hand across his mouth. “I can only handle – so much of it.” His hands motion off his words. “They mean well I just… can’t do too much of it at once.”

Growing up with parents that were as dismissive and absent, then gone all at once like his, knowing how to “family” was odd and foreign to him. As Noah got older, he began to realize that basic family etiquette was a trait he fundamentally lacked, as if he played hooky on some Family 101 course in his formative years. It wasn’t something he inherently prioritized and, at least when he was younger, it would irritate him when friends or colleagues put family above things that he deemed more important, like band related obligations. He never had to deal with family of his own, put it on his schedule or allot energy for it. He simply didn’t understand it.

Sure, he came off as rude at times, leaving friend’s family events early or mentally checking out mid-day. It wasn’t his fault that it was exhausting and overstimulating for him. To him it seemed natural, as if everyone felt that way, something akin to the universal experience of trying to escape school or work. It never crossed his mind that people might actually enjoy their families, nor could he comprehend the necessity for it.

It depended on who, what and when but for the most part it was exhausting to him. Some groups were better than others, like Nick’s family. Over the years they’d housed him for weeks at a time, months even sometimes. As far as Noah was concerned, the Ruffilo’s were his family. He always came and went as he pleased, always an open-door policy to the Ruffilo refuge. But that didn’t exclude Nick’s family from his unintended ignorance and tendency to run. He just could only take so much at once. Lucky for him, they never seemed to mind his behavior much. They never batted an eye; they understood him for who he was and why. Their house was one of the only places he felt comfortable, one of the only places he ever called home.

“I know.” She nodded, wrapping her hands around the thick swing chains. “I remember.”

“Right.” He replies solemnly, taking another sip before swapping it back.

Vivid memories filled Amelia’s brain of 14-year-old Noah tapping on her window like a freshly escaped felon looking for asylum. The heavy, panicked breathing and glassy eyes never matched the mischievous grin plastered across his face. Holidays were the worst; she recalls keeping her window unlocked during the winter months, so he’d always have an alternative escape. The Ruffilo’s were a festive bunch that took any excuse to celebrate. Naturally, Nicholas also only possessed so much adolescent tolerance to endure so many familial festivities so, he too would sneak away with Noah at times but, for the most part it was just him and Amelia celebrating holidays together on her bedroom floor.  

The air was still between them while she took a couple sips of sanguine liquid trying to catch up to him.

“So, you’re a big ol’ rockstar now huh?” The girl smiled, nudging him with her elbow trying to lighten the mood. Even though the words are positive and light, they tasted so sad on her tongue.

He laughed, something she hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. She nearly forgot what it sounded like, but it hadn’t changed really, just a little deeper now. His now tattooed hands grasped both metal swing chains and leaned back a little, using the tension to suspend his body while he observed the stars above them. “Not big. Just opening for some real bands now. Finally able to headline our own little tour soon. Fuckin’ took long enough.” He dismissed the compliment immediately, snuffing it into the ground like a shriveled-up cigarette butt.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his response. He might’ve not seen it as notable accomplishments, but she knew better than to place the validity of success in the hands of someone riddled with imposter syndrome.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty fucking cool.” She leaned against the chain closest to the long-haired boy.

His lips pulled to a smile while his eyes stayed focused on the sky. “Thanks.”

She followed his gaze and chuckled, “Sky’s pretty interesting huh?” She teased.

“It is when you barely get to see stars. I never really get to see them in LA. Sometimes I forget they’re even up there.” He replied sadly before sitting back up.

Amelia took another sip of the almost empty bottle, starting to feel the warmth of alcohol spread through her body. Something about the stars and Noah made a memory cross her mind that made her burst out into a cackle. “Do you remember when you put SO much work into your astronomy project for the science fair and fucking Nicholas won with his fucking-”

“Moldy bread!” They said loudly in unison before erupting into booming laughter.

“God I was so pissed.” Noah shook his head, “And then I had to eat his fucking moldy bread.”

“Oh yeah because you lost the bet! I forgot all about that!” Laughter filled her ribcage in a way it hadn’t in years, and it felt really fucking good.

“I was so fucking sure I’d win! I should’ve known, Nick has always been the golden boy. Teacher’s-pet swindling ass.” He kicked the sand just as he would’ve at 8 years old. It’s funny how people’s mannerisms don’t really change all that much as they age. Being there with him on their old playground felt like being in a time machine. “Worst food poisoning I ever had.”

“Didn’t you borrow the telescope you used from Nick too?” She questioned, wondering if she just made that part up in her head.

“Yeah, yeah I think I did actually.” His brows furrowed as he dug through his memories. “You know what? It’s probably still in their garage!”

“Really? Maybe you can find it tomorrow.” She poured the rest of the wine into her mouth, savoring the cheap bitterness of it pooling on her tongue.

“But the stars are so pretty tonight!” He whined in classic Noah fashion.

“Yeah so? What are you gonna do? Break into their garage?” She chuckled jokingly.

He straightened up and looked over at her with wide eyes like a lightbulb just lit above his head - a look she remembered all too well.

“No.” She warned, just like she would’ve back then at whatever scheme Noah concocted in his devious little brain.

He gave her a familiar mischievous toothy grin before pushing harshly off the swing.

“No, no, no.” She sighed as he already left his seat swinging and made his way towards the street.

“Noah!” She called after him. When he showed no sign of stopping, she let out a long sigh, questioning how she ended up having to stop a 6’4 man from breaking into houses in the middle of the night. She pushed off the swing, leaving it clanging and swaying behind her.

“Noah I’m not br-“ Her yell dulled down to a hush when she caught up to him. “I’m not breaking into the Ruffilo house at midnight!” Her words were stern but to Noah they just sounded like a child’s warning against curse words.

“We’re not breaking in ‘melia.” He didn’t match her whisper, his voice was loud and proud for anyone in the night to hear. “I remember the garage code.” He announced with drunken pride.

She scoffed, “And what if someone hears the garage, Noah? Then what?”

He shrugged, “Nick is staying there, we’ll just say we were trying to see him or something. You know I have free reign there anyway.”

“This is a really shitty plan, Noah.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a displeased frown.

“It’s a great plan.” He stated confidently, walking in long strides that she could barely keep up with. “You know all my plans are great.”

“Hmm.” She hummed skeptically. “Statistically, I don’t think that’s true.”

Walking down the street with Noah to Nick’s family home in the dead of the night felt so… familiar, as if she was walking in the same exact footsteps as 15-year-old Amelia had, like her memories were tangible in her hands again. She tightened her fists slightly to remind herself that the past was not solid in her hands again. She wasn’t 15 again on some spontaneous, teenage adventure – but the alcohol-fueled adrenaline prickling at her fingertips begged to differ.

Even past midnight, the small neighborhood’s Christmas lights shined bright. Normally, she’d find them obnoxious, but tonight they seemed much sweeter, only adding to the nostalgia.

“Oh no? All of my plans worked out one way or another.” He defended as if it was factual with a straightened back and pointed finger. “All but one.”

Her brows knitted tightly together at his words, because in her memory, there was a good chunk of her life spent stuck in detention because of his schemes.

“And which one would that be?” She sassed back, watching as his speed picked up even more after her question.

“Not important.” He waved the brunette off, “C’mon, we’re here.”

Unexpectedly, his hand slips around her wrist, and it wraps tingly electricity up her arm then across her entire body. All at once the butterflies that used to be so perpetually embedded in her stomach returned in a rampant flurry. Her gaze slowly snapped up to meet his face. His smile hadn’t changed in the near 10 years apart and neither did the bright glint in his espresso eyes. Time seemed to slow around them for that split second where the electricity sizzled beneath both their fingertips and their eyes found each other’s just as easily as they used to. In that brief moment she could’ve sworn she was looking into the eyes of rail thin, tattooless teenage Noah.

“I know they got a Ring doorbell, so we gotta hide between the cars.” He whispered and ducked them both down as he weaved her through the vehicles in the driveway.

“I can’t fucking believe you talked me into this Noah!” She whisper-yelled at him, wanting nothing more than to properly reprimand him.

“Sh!”

They finally found themselves in front of the garage keypad conveniently out of view of the doorbell camera. Noah blinked blankly at plastic number pad without moving. His inked fingers tapped on his own crossed arm while his tongue stayed lodged between his lips in thought.

“Well? Go ahead! Get it over with.” She insisted, motioning urgently to the garage wanting it to be over as fast as possible. She tucked her hands across her body and into her sides giving her some semblance of comfort. The last thing she wanted was for their childish midnight antics to wake up the entire house.

“Hey! Give me time.” He rushed back, lifting a finger in her direction to shush her.

“Time? I thought you said you remembered it!”

“I do! …I think… if they haven’t changed it.” His tone much less confident than before.

“Noah!”

“Hush!” He pressed a finger to his lips at her and took a hesitant step towards the keypad. With a couple semi-sure clicks, the garage door slid open slowly. Amelia exhaled in relief at how the metal clangs of the garage were much quieter than she remembered. Still though, they creaked too loud for her liking, feeling embarrassment and anxiety flood her body.

“Yes!” Noah squeezed his fists up in victory. “See, told you I remembered.”

“Lucky guess.” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

Her eyes widened as the garage door unveiled a gorgeous white car. It was by no means a luxury car, not a Lexus or anything of the sort, but a high enough model to make you look twice. “Damn Mama Ruffilo, ridin’ in style now.”

Noah grinned as he scoots around the car. His smile was reserved, like she had discovered some award he was keeping hidden out of modesty. “Yeah, that’s the one we got her for Mother’s Day.”

“We?” She questioned, her head cocking to the side a bit.

“Yeah, Nick and me. We each paid half.”

“Oh wow, that’s really nice of you.” She replied softly. It didn’t take a genius to calculate just how much it would cost two broke DIY touring bandmates to pay for a new car, even in halves. The vehicle was shiny and spotless, evidently well taken care of – the type of care you’d put into a possession you never thought you’d own, the type of care that came from deep gratitude.

“It’s the least I could do for ya know… everything she’s done for me.”

Amelia nodded knowing exactly what he meant. It was no secret that he was more than a family friend to them, but it was nice to see that he recognized it too. While Noah might not have attended every family event or stayed for long, he showed his love and appreciation in his own small ways. Gifts were one of his favorite ways of doing so. Yeah, Noah might’ve only stayed at a Thanksgiving for an hour or two for food, but he was there long enough to make mental notes for next year, to bring extra cranberry sauce because Nick’s abuela loves it or extra croutons since Nick’s mom tends to snack on them while she cooks. He paid attention and he loved deeply, even if it didn’t seem that way on the surface.

He rustled around some miscellaneous garage junk in the corner, making more noise than Amelia felt comfortable with. She stood up on her tip toes to watch carefully him over the pristine car with her heart beating in her chest begging to rush him again.

“Ah! I knew it’d be here!” He said a little too loud out of excitement and promptly covered his mouth. His wide brown eyes met hers in a silent ‘oops, shit, sorry!’ plea.

In desperate need to escape the anxiety inducing mission, Amelia ran to the end of the driveway the second she saw the telescope in Noah’s hand. It took him longer than it should’ve just to snatch the item, but she didn’t question it or investigate much when he sped right past her after the garage began squeaking closed.

They made it out in record time, holding in their laughter until they reached the end of the street. It only took one look at each other to send them into a cackling fit. Amelia’s delicate hands found his thin arm and used him for stability, while the laughter shook her entire frame.

When they make it back to the park, he set down the telescope and unravels something she somehow didn’t notice he was carrying before.

“Did you steal that from their garage?!”

He grinned and proudly pulled another bottle of wine, white this time, from the blanket he also borrowed. “Yeah? And I’ll just replace them when I bring the telescope back tomorrow.” He carefully sat the wine down at her feet and spread out the buffalo-print blanket over the grass.

“You are so bad!” She chuckled, smacking him playfully with the excess of her long cardigan sleeve.

“Isn’t that what girls want? A bad boy?” He smirked jokingly, getting down on his knees to angle the telescope just right so that they didn’t need to stand up to use it.

She pressed her lips together as she watched him. Sure, that’s what some girls want, but not her. Even when he was landing them in detention every other day and keeping them out way past curfew – even when everyone else considered him a “bad boy” – she knew he wasn’t, not really.

Even now, whenever he got on stage, covered in ink, growling like a demon – she knew he wasn’t, and has never been, “bad”. Not the way she knew him. Amelia had a talent for seeing through people and she always saw right through Noah, from the first time she ever saw him in the back of her 3rd grade class. And all through adolescence, she saw him clearly through all his stormy confliction and thick brick walls.

Noah never saw it of course; how could he believe that someone as sugary sweet as Amelia could possibly ever see him as anything more than comical the social mask he wore with friends. In fact, he would even go as far to believe his mask was thickest and most opaque around her. Whether or not that was factual, didn’t lessen her ability to see him, really see him.

Being told you’re so wrong for so long, makes you believe that no one could ever see you as right. No matter how many friends Noah had at his parties, or fans in his crowds or girls in his bed, he never felt as though anyone saw him as enough. He got so exhausted from constantly trying to outdo himself that sometimes he forgot what exactly he was trying to accomplish.

Amelia never once believed the “bad influence, bad boy” propaganda their parents or teachers ever accused him of. To her, he was just Noah; the weird emo kid in the back of her classes, the neighbor down the street, the other older “brother” of the youngest girl scout in her troop. Amelia knew Noah at his core.

“Ah, bad boys are overrated.” She waved off his words casually.

He turned and gave her an unconvinced look, “Yeah, sure.” he glared playfully before sitting back on his legs. “Well, it’s ready if you wanna look.”

Amelia crawled across the blanket to meet him and peered through the telescope. Billions of tiny stars flooded the glass lens with twinkles and glimmers you’d never be able to see normally. Fluffy white clouds interrupted the view every so often, but it didn’t take away from the breathtaking scene.

“Whoa.” She mouthed quietly, just taking in the sight. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Sure is.” Noah agreed quietly, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them while he watched her.

They took some turns looking out of the telescope and passing the wine bottle back and forth before finally resting side by side on the picnic fabric. The air around them both was full of dwindling laughter over Noah telling silly stories about him and Nicholas and their roommates in LA. At surface level, he seemed to be doing well, despite claiming to hate LA, he appeared to be thriving there. Perhaps it was just the roommates that he enjoyed living with. Noah was never one to enjoy solitude, at least not for long periods of time. When he lived in their hometown, he was rarely wherever he was staying at the time. Getting comfortable anywhere was never his goal or motive. For the most part, it seemed like he enjoyed the constant change, the running. However, the way he talked about their home in California, all the stories he shared that brought the grandest smile to his face or the loudest boom from his chest all took place at their home. Amelia wondered what it must feel like for him to be back in their dreary little town, and if he rattled off all those stories was because he was homesick.

As the space between them flooded with a silence that was equally comfortable and uncomfortable, a question bubbled up that had been eating at Amelia from the moment she laid eyes on the tired darkness hanging beneath Noah’s eyes. His grin for most of the night was wide and toothy but she knew him better than that.

“So,” She turned her head towards him. “How are you, really?”

His eyes stayed transfixed on the stars above and he let a dense quiet settle over them before speaking.

“It must get so exhausting.” He stated, ignoring her question all together.

Her brows furrowed at his words, “What does?”

“Being so bright all the time.” He stated flatly, with a low dejected tone lacing his words.

“The stars?” She questioned with her brows still knitted.

“Sure. The Moon, the cosmos, all of it.” He brought his hands to interlace over his tummy. “Sure, the moon gets a break during the day and gets to disappear for a bit every month. And the stars get to die eventually.

“Right…?”

“But a star’s entire existence is to be bright - they only exist to be bright and then die. The moon works every night to serve as a giant nightlight and to shift some waves around. It must be so exhausting, all of it – being so bright all the time just to burn out into nothing.”

Noah had always been good at avoiding both his feelings and Amelia’s prying questions. It seemed age and time hadn’t changed that specific skill set. Maybe it’s true what they say, people never really change. It worried her that he might’ve not changed at all in that way.

“I mean,” She shifted her head to face the stars again trying to find the answers in the same place he was getting the questions. “You’re not wrong… but, think about the good that they do. The moon does so much on its own for us, you know the tides, the earth’s axis and all that. But we wouldn’t even be here staring at the sky without it all. They’re pretty and,” She shrugs. “And maybe, sometimes, that’s enough.”

“Right.” He responded curtly, pausing a long while before speaking again. “If the moon had consciousness… do you think it would care that most people know it for being pretty and not for being good at its job?” He pondered, not once looking over at the girl, perhaps afraid that his façade would crumble, and he’d spill the truth if he met her eyes.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together once more as she processed his words, doing mental gymnastics to decipher the underlying meaning. Another skill set Noah possessed was being dramatically cryptic, especially when it came to his internal turmoil. Whenever he had some battle waging within him, he suddenly transformed into a makeshift philosopher.

Looking the way he does, it’s fair to assume that his band had garnered recent attention due to his looks – most men would revel in the fleeting female attention, but not Noah. At least not enough to keep him from being contemplative on the lawn of their old park.

Girls or not, Noah had always been particular about his craft. He was lucky he found Nicholas first since he really let Noah take reigns of the entire operation. Like a true perfectionist, Noah carefully curated every song, every show, every rehearsal – even back when they were just playing in Nick’s garage with shitty amps.

Amelia analyzed his words, thinking over her response carefully. “I think the moon would be grateful for the attention either way.” She commented gently. “As long as she’s doing the job she’s meant to do, her beauty getting noticed is just a bonus. As long as she’s doing what she’s destined to do, I think she’d be content doing whatever she needs to, regardless of the affection towards her.”

“Yeah, I guess she would.”

Looking up at the sky, Amelia noticed just how round the moon was that night and how perfectly it was centered in the sky. It looked like the inside of a circus tent, like the star littered sky was just a patterned fabric pierced right in the middle by a giant moon-shaped hole. It felt like it too – as if they were the only ones in some carnival tent far away from anything bad. Below such a vast cosmos, they were just tiny specs of dust in the universe, and she was grateful for the temporary solitude. After years of not even being around Noah, he still made her feel the same. He had a knack for dissolving any real-life problems when they were alone together. When she was with him, she was in a world of their own making. She wondered if she did the same for him, and for his sake, she really hoped she did.

But alas, the bubble they created together that night was not one that could exist forever, and the big top tent must come down after a grand show.

Amelia and Noah ran out of words, at least ones meant to be said that night. They laid side by side with her right hand and his left not even a centimeter apart.

Noah was unaware of whether it was fear, nerves or sadness that fueled the drumming beneath his brittle ribs, but that same force also tugged an invisible string to lift his pinky.

Amelia’s eyes rounded and every muscle in her body tensed up the millisecond she felt him move up and hover over her own pinky.

But before he got the chance to lock over her finger, there was a frightening rustling behind some playground equipment followed by a bright light aimed right at them, blinding the pair.

“Hey! You kids aren’t allowed in here!” Boomed a deep, authoritative voice.

Amelia propped herself up on an elbow and immediately used her arm as a shield to keep the blinding light from burning her retinas any further.

Noah closed his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose. It was one of the many familiar sounds from the town Noah hoped to never hear again.

“Sebastian? What an unpleasant surprise.” The voice taunted with a vicious edge.

“Officer Hawke.” The eyeroll was thick in Noah’s voice. “So great to see you.”

The big burly man shifted the flashlight beam to Noah directly. “Not shocking that the first time I see you back in town you’re up to no good.” He moved the light back to Amelia’s face. “Also, not shocking that you’ve reunited with your old partner in crime. Corrupting Miss. Alastor again, are we?”

“Officer, we just fell asleep earlier, we didn’t mean to be here so late.” Amelia lied for Noah like she always had. Her and Nick had been the goodie-two-shoes that were always bailing or covering for the long-haired boy. Well, Amelia was truly good, Nick was just skilled at masking his deviant tendencies, using his sweet golden-boy allure to fool everyone. As much as she hated breaking the rules, she secretly loved when Noah enabled it. Her teenage years wouldn’t have been nearly as fun or memorable without the two mischievous boys. Even just lying in the park with Noah after dark made her feel the most alive she’d had in years. It was exhilarating, no matter how much she reprimanded the boy for his reckless rebellion.

“Mhm. Sounds about right, you covering for Mr. Sebastian here, for god knows why.” He speculated, unconvinced. “It’s like I stepped back in time. It seems you both haven’t changed much.”

While the cop had been berating the two, Noah had already began packing up the picnic trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible.

“Sorry officer, it won’t happen again.” She lied.

“Sure.” He retorted. “Get you and your boyfriend out of here. Don’t let me catch you in here again.”

With that he turned and headed back to his vehicle. It was surprising that he just left the pair– not surprising that he just sat and watched them from the comfort of his cop car across the street.

Amelia helped Noah pack everything up before they made their escape from the park. Shortly after they were down the street, the cop car finally drove off. She walked in the direction of her house, thinking that Noah would part ways to maybe head towards Nick’s house to return the stolen items or to Vince’s where he was staying for the time being, but he stayed walking alongside her. He was quiet, which for Noah was strange, especially with her.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home? I know you’re staying in the opposite direction.” She said, stuffing her cold hands in her pockets.

“I want to. It’s dangerous for you to walk alone.” He replied flatly, kicking a pebble across the sidewalk concrete.

Her house wasn’t particularly far from the other two’s, nothing in the tiny town was necessarily far from each other. With a town as small as theirs, a night walk home wouldn’t usually be considered dangerous.

“Well, thanks.” She replied cautiously.

She let her mind wander to the interaction they had at the park with Officer Hawke. Noah’s mood had been fairly consistent all night up until then. She mentally scolded herself for not realizing that running into the overly familiar cop would affect his demeanor. Maybe she just assumed that after so many years into adulthood he’d be over it, but evidently, it was foolish and incredibly mindless for her to believe so.

The rest of the walk was silent, just filled with the sounds of nature in the winter. The crisp cool air zipping with the wind, crashing into every solid object available while owls coo-ed into the darkness.

Finally, they arrived at the chain-link gate of Amelia’s small home. She rested her arm atop the pointy wires of the fence. Any other night she’d probably invite him in, but it was so late and all of the night’s events had already been enough to overfill her tummy with static-y nerves.

“Well, I-“ They fumble over each other’s words. Warmth blooms across Amelia’s cheeks at the joint misstep.

“You go.” She urged.

“No, you go.” He pushed back with a sheepish grin.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and dropped her attention down to her feet. “I was just gonna say that this was… nice.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “It was really nice to see you again Noah.” Her tone soft and genuine, as her eyes meet his again.

He was unprepared for how her eyes looked with the moonlight shining directly into them. He couldn’t remember the last time he looked into them so clearly. He forgot how different they were from each other, well, they weren’t really – but they were when one spent looking at them as intently as Noah had since he was 8 years old. Her eyes were both a hazel but one much more brown while the other had a pretty emerald hue.

“Yeah, it was really nice.” His words sounded true, but his voice was still strained by the sadness from the walk there. “I’m really happy I went into the shop this morning.”

Her lips worked overtime to keep from pulling into a giant grin and suddenly she was grateful for the darkness hiding the red staining her cheeks. “Yeah, me too.”

Noah sucked in a breath to speak but pauses, before returning again, “Um - Nick’s family is throwing their annual Christmas party this weekend, I’m sure he and the Ruffilo clan would love to see you.” He stated with his words moving slightly faster than normal almost like he was nervous to even ask, which is silly isn’t it? Being anxious to invite an old friend to a holiday party you both attended every year growing up? It shouldn’t be that nerve wreaking, right? He scratched the back of his neck. “If you want that is.”

Her eyes nearly light up enough to cut through the darkness. “Yeah,” She beamed a sweet smile up at him.  “I think I’d really like that.”

taglist; @lma1986 @alastriaa @missduffsblog @xxkittenkissesxx @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @measuredingold @jilliemiw86

[comment to be added to taglist<3]

A/N; thank you so much for reading - again this is my first time writing in 3rd person so i hope it was decent! i hope you enjoyed even though it is definitely not christmas time lmao - lmk what you think! 💗

#hope you liked it! #concreteburialplot works #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #nosh sebastian x fem!oc #noah sebastian series

[concreteburialplot]

New series:

Cool About It

Meet: Amelia Alastor

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x OFC

A/N; I began writing this in December because it was meant to be a light, fluffy, hallmark-y one shot but the more I wrote the more it begged to be a sadder longer, more involved fic. I kept going back and forth between just scrapping it but ultimately I chose to continue. To not derail the original framework of the plot, I’ve decided to keep the holiday setting so… just roll with it & enjoy christmas in the spring ig 😅

Summary: When Noah comes home for the holidays with Nicholas, he runs into an old friend. While catching up, they fall back into the shoes of the children they used to be. Amelia quickly realizes that even after nearly 10 years apart, she still knows Noah like the back of her hand. Their reunion raises questions about Noah’s abrupt and secretive disappearance at 16.

Themes/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, ‘I know you better than anyone else’, hallmark-y? kinda?, [AU] family/childhood trauma, eventual smut, and as always, incredibly sad lol, 18+ MDNI

Disclaimer: this is an au that follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

Comment if you’d like to be tagged❄️☕️

chapters with smut with have a *

CHAPTERS:

-> 01 - Breaking & Entering

#i’m very excited to finally put this out :) #this post will become the masterlist #will prob be a shorter series compared to my other ones<3 #i know me writing noah only is so scandalous #new series #concreteburialplot works #WIP #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian rpf #noah sebastian x oc #Spotify

[concreteburialplot]

(Don't Cry Over) Spilled Wine

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!reader x noah sebastian

word count; 6.1k | crossposted: ao3

other work masterlists; here

warnings; filthy lol, sub!reader/sub!noah, angry mean brat tamer!nicholas, established thruple relationship, dom/sub/sub, thigh riding, handjobs, cum play/eating, degrading, teasing, hair pulling, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), creampie, orgasm denial/delay, 18++ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

summary; you decide that Nicholas is paying more attention to a stupid magazine than you and Noah, so you try to get his attention the only way you know how.

a/n: this is a work of fiction, don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

p.s. pls don't hate me for this 🥲

Your boyfriend thumbs mindlessly through the most recent magazine that has his face plastered all over. Your eyes track his every movement like a lion stalking a gazelle. Long tattooed fingers crease the edges of glossy pages on the left and on the right, his fingertips interrupt the condensation on a wine filled glass.

On the other side of the suede couch sits your partner, Noah, the other face plastered across the cover. Long chocolate locks and potent ink that never ceases to mesmerize you. He sits playing on his phone while you’re glued to the marble bar across from them.

Things had been busy and quiet lately with tour coming and press, and it’s a while since you’d stirred up any trouble. But this particularly calm night inspiration struck you and you decide you want attention.

You begin to slowly cross the plush carpeted floor when his eyes catch on to your movements. His gaze stays on you while the other catches on to your ruse, quietly locking his phone and setting it faced down.

“What are ya doin?” Nicholas’s voice rasps, propping up a thick eyebrow watching your every step.

“Nothin’.” You shrug finally reaching him, “It’s just you’re givin’ that dumb magazine more attention than me.” In a swift movement before he could even stop you, your knees land on each side of his knee, your ass planted right on the magazine.

He clears his throat, “You’ve crushed my magazine.” Anger clearly bubbling in him, but it only fuels your actions, you want more. Noah’s innate reflex mimics your actions, sliding closer to where you both are.

“Well, it seemed like the only way I’d get to sit on your face.” You shrug, spreading your legs further apart on him to get closer in his lap, the magazine crunching beneath you. A glimmer of pride stretches across your face from the visible clench in his jaw.

“Well, you’re not doin’ yourself any favors by pulling this shit.” His voice raspy and restrained, yet it pushes you even further. Your hips begin slowly rutting back and forth on the magazine in his lap, your panty-covered cunt sliding across the pages covered with both your boyfriend’s faces. “So, this is what we’re doin’ huh? Just because you want my tongue in your pussy you get to ruin my magazine?”

His words only worsen the wetness pooling in the panties pressing against the magazine. Your ruts speed up ever so slightly and the faster you go the further your lips spread over his propped thigh. Your sneaking brunette sidekick slithers his way next to Nicholas yet, his focus never leaves you. Noah’s hand makes its way up his free thigh and began palming the strain in his black jeans. Nicholas’ eyes finally snap over at him almost as a warning. “So, you both wanna test me today huh?”

You let out a tiny whimper from how much momentum you’ve escalated to. “I don’t know Nick…are we?” Noah teases as he slides his way onto Nick’s other thigh matching your movements, grinding himself against his leg. “Y/n is right…you were paying more attention to that dumb magazine than us.” His hands slide up Nick’s plain black shirt before leaning down into his neck starting sloppy kisses over his tan, tattooed skin. Your eyes trail down Noah’s lean body, and the bit of chest that’s exposed from his sleeveless shirt makes you more ravenous.

Nicholas lets out a groan, shifting further down the couch to accommodate both of you in his lap. “Look how needy you both are for me, it’s borderline pathetic.” His free hand slides up his outer thigh while the other remains holding the wine glass on your side. He slips a finger into the band of Noah’s sweats, tugging them down to reveal the erection in his boxers. “You know y/n…you started this, I think you should wait your turn.”

“That’s not fair!” You whine and grind harder against his thigh, “I needed you first.” You scrunch his shirt in your fist.

“Oh Darlin’, that’s just too bad. You shoulda thought of that before actin’ like a little slut.” He taunts. Nicholas slips the brunette’s boxers down, his long cock springing free. It’s almost embarrassing how your mouth waters at the mere sight of it. He spits into his hand and begins to work his hand on Noah and causes whimpers to escape his mouth. As much as you’re needy for Nick, Noah’s noises turn you on even more. He ruts into his fist, his lips still sucking on his neck.

You want his attention back on you, so you pull your flowy dress over your head, the cold air peaking your nipples. Nicholas’s gaze returns to you, falling to your bare breasts, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight of you. The attempt not only catches the attention from him but Noah as well. He sits up while Nick is still pumping him and leans over to wrap his lips around your nipple, circling the nub with his tongue. Your eyes meet his as he sucks on your tit, his own hand sneaking up your thigh. The anticipation of his touch rages a buzzing in your core. But before he could reach where you needed him most, Nicholas snatches his wrist. “Nu uh, did I say you were allowed to touch her?” He scolds. “She’s waiting her turn remember?”

Noah tugs off your tit with a pop and gives Nicholas a frown, “Sorry.” You let out a tiny sob at the loss of stimulation.

“It’s alright babydoll.” He coos up at him, “Just don’t fucking do it again.” He warns then swipes his thumb across Noah’s tip to gather any precum before pulling his hand from his cock.

“I’m just tryin’ to teach y/n a lesson.” Nicholas’ eyes focus back on you with a devious look swirling in his grey eyes. His wet hand drifts to your lips, spreading a bit of both his spit and Noah’s precum on your lips, “Open.” He commands. You blink at him as if to beg not to – you don’t know how much more you can take and you know tasting both of them would only make you even more needy. But you oblige, not wanting to find out the punishment if you defy him. You delicately wrap your hand around his wrist as you take his drenched fingers into your mouth and suck on them. Your eyes close at their taste, echoing a moan around his digits.

“Aw what’s wrong Darlin’? You like the way he tastes? Does it make you wanna suck his pretty cock?” He ridicules in the cruelest tone, letting you know that he isn’t playing around.

Your eyes widen at his words but only muster out an, “Mhm.” pathetically around his fingers, sucking them just as you would his cock. Your actions speed up on his thigh, your own wetness seeping from your panties and onto the glossy pages. It seems though, that you got so lost in the friction that your desperate rutting knocked the wine glass onto the couch, spilling white wine all over the fabric. Luckily none landing on either of you or breaking the glass.

A chilling fear immediately runs down your spine once you realize your mistake and his darkened eyes confirms it. You glance over at Noah, his brown eyes as wide as saucers, just as terrified. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” He growls. While fear of the inevitable punishment terrifies you, it also worsened the rampant pulsing in your clit.

A hard smack landed on your partner’s ass causing a sharp yelp to leave his lips, “Up.” He commanded and he listened, pulling from his thigh. “Clothes off. Now.”

He got up and slinked out of his sweats and boxers, then tugged his shirt up over his head, tossing it to the ground. Before moving any further, he places a quick kiss on your cheek, a small tradition you have to comfort each other during punishing situations such as these. He looks at Nick for instruction and he just pointed back onto his thigh. He nods and reclaims his position.

He lets out a whine the minute Nicholas is jerking him off again. The scene is absolute torture, your mind is scrambling from how worked up and wet you are. Nicholas uses his other hand to unzip his jeans to pull out his own hard member. Noah’s cock might make your mouth water, but Nick’s makes your pussy ache. He seizes your wrist, his hold almost painful as he brings your hand to his mouth. While keeping eye contact with you as he spits into your palm then brings it to his length. You obey his silent demand and begin palming his cock.

His hand is still on yours almost guiding your movements on him. “You see what you do to me?” His words make you melt in his hands and your walls clench around nothing. “This is your fault.” His thick brows lower menacingly. “And you’re gonna fix it.”

The threat causes you to gulp and arousal to pool in your panties. Just touching it drives you mad with thoughts of him being inside you – the way you can barely fully wrap your hand around it reminds you how much it’ll hurt when he stretches you out.

He lets out a low groan as you worked on him and Noah is a whimpering, rutting pathetic mess. From the increase in Noah’s sobs and his twitching cock, you know they are both close, which hopefully means it will be your turn soon. Though, from your little fuck up a turn wasn’t quite guaranteed. He rolls his hips into Nick’s fist desperately, his hand gripped tightly onto his shirt. You want nothing more than to be on either of their mouths, their fingers, anything.

As Noah draws to his precipice, you notice Nicholas pick up the empty wine glass. You furrowed your brows as he brings it to just below where Noah’s swollen tip is. Your eyes widen when he begins moaning loudly as his orgasm rips through him, his hands tugging at Nick’s shirt while he erupts. Your eyes follow his juices pour into the wine glass; Nick is diligent to get every drop while he rides out Noah’s high. Once he’s spent, he pulls from his hand and falls onto the cushion next to him, his hooded eyes giving away just how fucked out he is.

Nicholas’ stern look finally land on you again, his hand finding yours that had stilled on his length. “Did I say you could stop?” He asks. You shake your head and promptly continue, your fist around his veiny girth. He brings the newly filled wine glass to his cock and tilts it to you, instructing you to take it. “Make sure you don’t miss any.” He says simply, his voice deep and raspy with desire.

Your rounded eyes meet his, still processing his orders.

“Did I fucking stutter?” He spat back and you quickly take the glass from him without another word and hold it just in range. His right hand swiftly finds its way into your loose hair, wrapping it around his fist tugging on it slightly. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” He snarls. “Got it?”

“Y-Yes.” You mutter not even wanting to look at him and continue to stroke his member.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.” You correct yourself.

He lets go of your hair and trails his down your side, landing a hard smack on your ass. “Good girl.”

You wince at the spank, but it doesn’t distract you from your mission. His cock’s twitching in your hand, pre-cum leaking from his head. “Fuck.” He groans out. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He groans, tightly gripping your ass as white milky ribbons shoot from his tip and into the glass. You continue to pump his member until he was completely done.

You sit up and hold the wine glass, not quite sure what to do with it. He helps your confusion by taking it from you, bringing it up to your eyeline and swirling the contents the way connoisseurs would do with fine wine. The cum from both your partners mixing before your eyes.

Nicholas’s hand returns to your hair again, this time gripping it even tighter around his fist. He uses his grasp to tug your head back and brings the cup to your lips. Your eyes wider than you ever thought they could go, looking at him in absolute surprise. “C’mon, open up.” Tapping your bottom lip with the edge of the glass, “You’re gonna swallow every drop.”

You timidly open for him, “If you take this like a good little slut, I might just let you cum.” He slowly began to trickle the mixed orgasm into your mouth. You are so fucking desperate and so fucking horny that the liquid tastes like pure heaven. You let out a small moan and close your eyes as you swallow their juices completely, every last drop.

Nick grins proudly. “Good girl.” He says lowly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip gathering any residue and moving it back into my mouth. You’re so desperate for anything that you’re absolute putty in his hands. You suck his thumb clean with your eyes locked on his. He’s putting up a good front, but you can tell his own desire is still hunting you. He slides his thumb out of your mouth slowly and hooks it into your bottom lip, “All you want is a cock in your pretty mouth don’t you babydoll?”

You nod silently.

A high-pitched moan from beside you gets the attention of you and Nick, only to find Noah slowly stroking his hardened member. His top teeth are dug into his bottom lip just watching you both.

It’s immediately clear that Nicholas is not happy about this. “I don’t remember telling you that you’re allowed to touch yourself.”

Noah just lets out a small whine but doesn’t stop palming himself.

Nicholas sucks on his teeth in thought before speaking. “Alright, here’s what gonna happen. “You up.” He commands you, “Switch with him, face down.” He looks over at Noah, quickly snatching his wrist. “You’re done with this.” His grip tightens around his wrist. “On your knees behind her.”

Your eyes meet Noah’s, your scared looks mirroring each other. It’s your turn to place a kiss on his cheek for support.

You quickly slip from your panties and get on all fours with your ass perked up in front of Noah and your face is in the couch. The thought of Noah’s cock even slightly near you is making your pussy throb and clench around nothing. You need him so fucking bad.

“You wanna be defiant little brat then you’re going to treated like one.” Nicholas growls at Noah. “You wanna be such a little slut? Go ahead, fuck her.”

“W-What?” Noah lets out a whine. “‘Don’t think I can.” He whimpers out pathetically. “‘Too sensitive.”

You can always tell when Noah is deep in sub space when he starts dropping words.

“I didn’t ask.” He says sternly. “Fuck her.”

He gently presses the head of his cock at your folds just above your entrance and the sheer proximity is enough to make you nearly vibrate in need. He sobs at the small bit of contact. But you can’t wait anymore, you need him. So, you take action for him and back up pushing yourself onto him. Noah lets out the loudest, most painful whine but for you, it feels so good to finally a cock in you, even if it’s only halfway.

Nicholas leans down and tucks some hair behind your ear. “Ah, good job baby. Making him suffer for me.”

He turns his attention back on the long-haired boy. “I told you to fuck her, not fuck around with your dick sitting inside her. Move.”

You’ve nearly lost all your patience and every single cell in your body is begging to move on him, but you know Nicholas wants this done his way.

Nicholas always gets his way.

He finally listens, moving in and out of you painfully slow. Whimpers and whines pour out of Noah’s mouth, pained from the overstimulation. Even his hands are delicate on your hips, as if he touched you too hard, he’d explode on the spot.

You feel the rough pad of Nicholas’ finger glide down your spine, following the arch of your back. Just the graze of his touch is enough to have goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“Oh, isn’t this pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” Nicholas’ voice is deep and so mean it makes you tighten around Noah, only making him sob more. “You can’t even fuck her properly.” He circles around from him to be in front of you. “How about I show you how you should be fucking her?” He bends one knee on the cushion in front of you and pulls his cock out from his jeans still undone from earlier.

You look up at him with wide eyes and your mouth can’t help but fall open for him. He chuckles lowly and cups your jaw in his sizeable hand, his fingers delicately tilting you face up. “That’s my girl.” He gleams and it fills your tummy with butterflies. The way he’s looking at you right now could make you do anything he wanted.

He pumps his own member a couple times before sliding into your mouth. Just the head of it nearly fills your mouth completely and he’s heavy on your tongue. But you’re hungry and you need more, from both of them. You push your head down further onto his cock until it hits the back of your throat. His fingers rake through your hair and lets out a deep groan from the pit of his chest. It only fuels you to take the lead, beginning to bob on his length, gagging a bit every so often just from the sheer size. While you work on Nick, your hips are backing up on Noah more aggressively.

You have both of your boys letting out noises that make your heart soar and somehow amplifies the almost painful buzzing in your clit. But you’re getting filled on both ends, so who are you to complain?

“Is this what you wanted princess?” Nick asks, “You wanted to be used like a little whore? You wanted a cock in your mouth and another in your pussy?”

You screw your eyes shut and answer with a muffled, “Mhm.”

“Thank you for using your words for me baby.” He moves some hair out of your face and looks down at you proudly. Your cheeks burn from how hard you blush at his praise.

From how desperate you are, Nicholas tastes like candy in your mouth, you can’t get enough of it. Each time your tongue passes over his slit, he shivers under you, and it gives you some semblance of power.

His fingers rake through your hair again, this time gently gripping it back to get you to look at him. “You’re being so fucking good for me baby, but I need to teach our boy how to fuck you properly.”

You nod as best you can, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. He keeps his grip tight in your hair, keeping your head in place for him. He starts slow, just to work his way into the back of your throat. Each inch is more painful than the last and your gag reflex is hanging on by a thread. It’s not until you think you can feel his head halfway down your esophagus that he speeds up. His hips begin thrusting into your mouth quick and hard. Tears build up in your eyes and look up at him because you know he loves making you cry like this.

“Fuck baby, you look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He grunts as tears stream down your face.

He’s fucking your mouth so fast and so mercilessly that it’s backing your entire body back, helping you to fuck Noah. He whines and grips your hips hard in a weak attempt to slow you down but there is no stopping Nicholas’ ruthless assault on your throat. It finally pushes you to where Noah’s cock is at the deepest part of you. And nothing could ever top the feeling of having both of them being equally as deep inside you at the same time. You let out whimpers and moans as much as you can around Nick.

Nicholas finally dislodges from your throat, taking thick strings of saliva with him still tethering you to his cock. He picks up your chin, “God you’re so beautiful like this.” He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, looking down into your eyes. “You’re being so good for me, I almost forgot about the wine all over my couch.” His inflection at the end slips back to cruel.

He drops your jaw, leaving you heaving and breathless. He makes his way over to Noah who is very precariously fucking you. You peek over your shoulder to see Nick taking a strand of Noah’s long hair and draping it over his shoulder. “My pretty boy, you like using our girl like the little slut she is?”

Noah gives no answer and his movements slow down even more than they were already.

“You like fucking her tight cunt?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, like thunder rolling. And yet Noah says nothing but just a nod. “It doesn’t look like you’re enjoying it, maybe you need some help.” Nicholas’ hands slide down the boy’s thin tattooed sides landing on his hips and gripping them harshly, causing Noah to let out a yelp. Your eyes widen as you watch Nick moving Noah’s hips for him, essentially using him as a toy to fuck you with.

“Fuck.” You let out loudly and drop your head when Noah’s cock finally begins ramming right where you need him. Pathetic and high-pitched sobs come from Noah, he sounds more in pain than pleasure. You catch a brief moment to look back and watch Nick placing open mouth kisses on the boy’s neck while using him to fuck you. Noah’s eyes are bursting with tears as he’s pushed to his limit, but you know he’s at least enjoying it enough to not use the safe word.

Nick lets go of Noah’s hips obviously done with him. “You’re pitiful. If you can’t fuck her then I’ll do it for you.”

Noah meekly pulls out of you and lets Nick take his place. Like a good boy, Noah waits patiently for instruction.

“Go sit in front of her. I want her to look at how pathetic you and your cock look.” He directs and Noah listens, sitting facing you. His member is glistening and so red it looks excruciating. It only makes you want it in your mouth more.

You let out a sharp gasp when Nicholas thrusts his cock deep into you. Since he has more girth than Noah, he just makes you feel fuller. It’s everything you’ve wanted all day. Moans pour out of you each time he lands deep in your core.

“Does that feel better baby? You like my cock better, don’t you?”

The pleasure building in your stomach is too much for you to even think a coherent thought — the only thing you can even comprehend right now is the way he’s fucking you senseless.

You should’ve known he wouldn’t like silence as an answer. He gathers your hair and wraps it around his fist, yanking your head up.

“Darling, I thought we talked about using your words.” He patronizes. “So, tell me, he can’t fuck you like I do huh?”

“No.” You squeak out.

“Hm. I fill you up better than he does, don’t I baby?”

“Yes.” You say weakly, just trying to hang on to your sanity.

He tugs at your hair to force your eyes onto Noah. “Well if you think so, go ahead, tell him.”

Your eyes round at his demand. “W-What?”

“Tell him how he can’t fuck you like I do. How my cock is bigger than his. How only I can fuck you the way your pretty pussy deserves to be fucked.”

Pleasure builds in your tummy with every word that he says. Your fingertips are aching to touch your sensitive nub so you can actually cum – but you know better than to do so, especially without asking. So now you want to please Nick any way you can.

You gulp and lock eyes with Noah. “Nicholas fucks me better than you.” You blurt out.

Nick gives your hip a small squeeze, silently telling you good job, keep going.

“His cock feels so much fucking better than yours.” You say bolder this time.

While what you’re saying are half lies and seem mean, the twitch in Noah’s cock tells you he loves it.

You feel Nicholas’ stare burning over your shoulder watching Noah intently.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Does your little cock get harder when she says that? Do you like it when we tell you how you’re just a little brat who only deserves to watch?” Nick teases him while he’s buried inside you. Noah’s face flushes strawberry pink and his cock bounces on its own with each word he says, precum dripping from his tip.

You always love seeing this unfold, Nick loves watching Noah suffer, it turns him on more than anything.

Nick’s fingertips are curled into your hipbones so hard you wonder if he’d ever be able to let go. Not that you’d want him to. His thrusts escalate and deep guttural groans escape his lips. His cock is hitting you directly in your sensitive spot.

“I asked you a fucking question. Do you like being a pathetic little bitch who only gets to watch?”

Noah squeezes his eyes shut and nods his head. “Yes.” He squeaks. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, sir. Can I touch myself please?”

“No.” Nick replies before Noah can even finish his sentence.

He whines and wiggles in his place, “Please it hurts, I need to cum.”

The whinier Noah gets, the faster and rougher Nick’s thrusts are. It’s clear that Noah’s desperation only fuels him.

“Hm. Maybe y/n could help you out, how does that sound? Maybe she could put her pretty mouth on your pathetic cock.”

He nods quickly, “Yes, please, I’ll take anything.”

You look back at Nick to confirm the plan. There is so much need and excitement in Noah’s eyes it makes you feel pity for him. You lean down and stick out your tongue but just before you could land, your head is yanked back by your hair again.

“Oh, too bad darling, seems like she’s a little preoccupied to touch your pitiful cock.” He feigns a genuine apology.

Noah’s eyebrows immediately turn upwards, and his jaw falls slack. His eyes look so desperate and panicked it makes you feel guilty even though it wasn’t your fault.

Nicholas’ thrusts become sloppy and quick. His actions move your entire body easily. Your clit throbs at how well he fills you up, how well he fucks you. His hands grip firmly onto your hips, his fingers digging into the bone. Your head hangs as he slams directly into your sweet spot. You’re aware of Noah’s presence obviously, but in that moment, you can't think about anything other than Nick’s cock buried inside you. You can tell he’s close from how erratic his movements are. And while you want to reach your own finish line, right now your body is merely an instrument for his pleasure. You want him to feel good and know it is because of you. So, you match his rhythm and bounce back into his thrusts.

He lets out a gruff groan from deep in his chest. “If you keep this up, you’re gonna have a cunt full of my cum.”

The words spin a flurry of butterflies in your core and only drives you more. You speed up your hips, going even faster than his sloppy thrusts.

“Fuck.” He draws out the word, just savoring in you taking control of his pleasure. That doesn’t last long as he grips your hips hard and slams into you so fast it makes you dizzy. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” He curses out and buries himself so deep in you that you know you’re going to be so sore after. His cock twitches and his hot seed fills you up, just like he promised.

“Thank you.” You pathetically whimper out into the couch cushion.

He runs his hand up your back and tangles his fingers into the roots of your hair, tugging your head up just slightly. “Thank you for what?”

You sob, “Using me.”

You don’t even need to see him to know he’s smirking. “Good girl.”

He lets your head fall gently. “You.” Nick speaks to Noah. “Come here.”

Noah’s chocolate eyes are round and so deep into submission that he just melts at whatever Nicholas says to him. He nods and meekly walks over to him.

Nicholas slowly pulls from you, making sure not to let any cum spill out unnecessarily. You don’t dare move without his direction, so you stay with your ass up and his seed still pooled in the deepest part of you.

He turns to Noah, “Here, make yourself useful and clean this up.”

Noah’s eyes widen at his command then at Nick’s still hard member covered in both your slick and his cum.

“Don’t be ungrateful. Get on your knees.”

“Yes sir.” The long-haired boy squeaks and follows the orders, kneeling in front of him. He’s hesitant when he wraps his lips around the man’s tip then slowly takes the rest of him into his mouth.

Nick runs his fingers through the boy’s hair as he works, “That’s it baby, just like that.”

He swirls his tongue as close to the base as he can get then all the way back up his length to come off with a pop. He sits back on his legs and looks up at Nicholas like he’s the most generous man on earth. “Thank you.” He says quietly.

“Oh, you’re not done cleaning.” He says before smacking your ass. “Lay down.”

Your stomach is full of excitement, need, and hope. You flip onto your back and before you even have the chance to settle in, Nicholas grabs a knee and spreads you open, baring your cum-dripping cunt to Noah.

Your cheeks heat up at the way Noah’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of you.

Nicholas then pulls himself from the couch and circles over to be in front of you both. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Get to work.”

Noah dips his head between your legs but still hesitates, probably because of his affinity for eating pussy and his tendency to accidentally orgasm from it alone. If Nicholas is set on not letting Noah finish again, this might get him in trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas patronizes. His fingers reach between your legs and uses two tattooed fingers to spread your folds open. “Don’t you like her pretty pussy?”

Both your and Noah’s cheeks grow bright cherry red. His cock is still painfully hard and twitching at just the sight of you.

“I do.” He squeaks out.

Nicholas’ hand finds its way into Noah hair, gripping it at its roots and roughly shoves his head down into your core. “Then fucking act like it.”

He begins by kitten licking at your clit and even though they are just little licks, you’re so sensitive that they’re driving you crazy. The tiniest flick from the tip of his tongue causes tingles to spread across your skin and a knot to form in your stomach already. You let out a tiny whimper and Nicholas’ devilish smirk stretches across his face. He crouches down next to you and tucks a bit of hair behind your ear.

“Isn’t this what you wanted babydoll? Didn’t you want all our attention? Well now you’ve got it.” He hisses.

His eyes rake down your naked body down to where Noah is very cautiously licking at your sensitivity. “No, no, no.” His hand grips his hair again, this time forcing him further down to your entrance and pushing him deeper. “I want you to get every fucking drop of my cum out of her pretty little cunt.”

The way he degrades Noah in front of you turns you on more than you’d like to admit. But the results are even better. Noah begins his task, dipping his tongue deep inside you, instantly moaning at the taste. His noises reverberate through your entire core causing you to tighten your walls around his working tongue. Noah begins to rut himself against the couch as he devours you and you can’t help but lift your hips up slightly to let him get an even better, deeper angle.

Nicholas smiles and combs through your hair a bit, “That’s it baby, let him taste all of you.” His fingertips trail down your body and just his touch is enough for your heart to start thumping in your ears. Your breath hitches in your throat when they find your aching, swollen clit. He begins slow circles on you and the feeling of his fingers and Noah’s tongue fucking you has you on the edge of bliss. Your hips rut up into Noah’s tongue and into Nick’s fingers deliciously.

“Please, please let me cum.” You beg as a very thin string is holding you back from your orgasm. “Fuck, I’ll cum just from this just please let me cum, please let me cum.” You repeat pathetically. “Please, please, please.”

Nicholas lowly chuckles and speeds up his fingertips ever so slightly. “Sure darling, and I guess our little pet here can cum too, if he can without touching himself.”

Before he even finishes speaking, euphoria hits you full force nearly blinding you. Bliss washes over your entire body, your legs clamp around Noah’s head and Nick’s working fingers. Screams, moans and curses spill from your lips. The pressure that’s been built up this entire time squirts all over Noah’s face. He must’ve really liked that because loud whimpery moans tumble from his lips and you feel him freeze, then feel his warm cum shoot on your thigh.

You both are whiny, soaked messes below Nicholas’ gaze. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Well, isn’t this pathetic,” Nicholas coos lovingly, “You both came so hard barely being touched.”

Once completely spent, Noah rests his head on your thigh with your chests rising and falling rapidly. It’s nice to have Noah as your partner in crime because you always end up here together. Being punished isn’t nearly as fun without him and it’s comforting to have someone to cling to while Nick fully sets up aftercare.

“You both were so good for me.” Nicholas smiles proudly down at you two, “C’mon let’s go take a bath and get you guys cleaned up.”

He leans down when you both nod at him and presses his forehead against both of yours. “Are we okay?” He asks gently.

You and Noah respond in unison with a sleepy, “Mhm.”

He takes each of your jaws into his hands, tilting your faces up at him. “You know I need to hear it.” He says tenderly, using his thumbs to graze your cheeks. “Are we okay?” He repeats.

“Yes.” You reply together.

Nick smiles lovingly, “Thank you.” He holds each of our faces softly in his hands, “I love you.”

Tired smiles stretch across both your faces, “I love you too.” You reply.

Noah’s cheeks are blushed but he stays quiet causing Nick to sit next to him on the couch. “I know I was hard on you this time baby. Are you okay?” His hand finding Noah’s and holding it.

Noah tugs on his lip, his eyes shy and staying on their touching hands. “You sure I was a good boy for you?” He asks quietly.

“Aw baby,” He wraps his arm around and pulls him close, “Here’s a little secret.” He whispers between the three of you. “No matter what. You’re always my bestest boy.” Noah blushes and nuzzles into Nick’s chest.

“Same goes for y/n.” He reaches out a hand for you and you take it, getting pulled into the mush pile. “Always my bestest girl.”

You copy Noah and nuzzle into Nick’s chest. There’s no place you’d rather be than on that couch with your boys.

a/n; thank you for reading this if you did. i didn't plan on posting this here but i teased it a while ago and the response was good so here you go, i hope you enjoy it. pls lmk if you do, pls don't hate me🥲

#i can't look at myself in the mirror after writing this if im being honest #pls dont hate me 🥲 #concreteburialplot works #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader x nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo x reader #noah sebastian rpf #bad omens rpf #y'all scare me 🥲

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

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

-NICHOLAS- 

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable. 

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

--

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before. 

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high? 

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was. 

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off. 

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too. 

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.” 

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs. 

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand. 

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words. 

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?” 

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement. 

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question. 

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?” 

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock. 

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago. 

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth. 

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too. 

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline. 

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue. 

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to. 

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now. 

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.” 

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…” 

-Next Day- 

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago. 

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission. 

-

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her. 

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer. 

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.  

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster. 

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

--

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine. 

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

My

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

-

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

 “Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again. 

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe?  shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

--

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me. 

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line. 

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us. 

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk. 

 --

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.  

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. 

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

--

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it. 

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

--

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble. 

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?” 

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers? 

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

-

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky. 

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you. 

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once? 

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy. 

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle. 

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be. 

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body. 

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space. 

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot. 

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out. 

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness. 

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one. 

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush. 

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one. 

“It’s empty.” 

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#i have edited this so many times and it got so long #sorry if there’s errors or is bad idk 😭 #im honestly just really sick of editing and looking at it #longest chapter i’ve ever written for any of my series-es ever #as always lots of plot lots of dialogue #concreteburialplot works #intertwined series #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah x nicholas #noah x nicholas fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 09

-> 09 - Lavender Haze

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc (vallie)

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 7.1k

warnings: mention of alcohol/dependency, weed, arguing, angry/jealous/dom ruffilo, business talk, oral (f receiving), p n v (unprotected), dirty talk, cream pie, fingering, d/s dynamics if you squint, almost getting caught, kinda messy ?, mention of std testing/birth control, fluff ?????????¿ cuddling, important plot stuff, 18+ ONLY MDNI

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

When we get to their house, I’m grateful for the empty driveway, which means no Jolly and no Folio. Nobody else to know about this.

I round Nicholas’ car to open the passenger door for Noah.

“Hey, hey.” I pat his cheek to wake him up.

The singer looks up at me with glazed over, sleepy eyes. His drinks finally caught up to him, especially the last ones before we left which he claimed, “helped with the pain”.

The whole bar fight was quite sobering for me, but a small bit of alcohol is still running through me, and that tiny bit is not helping me with this 6’3 drunken baby. His slim face is so beat up and while my patience is waning, I still feel guilty. While he’s paper thin, when I pull on his skinny arm, he feels so heavy.

“C’mon Sebastian let’s go.” Nicholas finally makes his way around, snapping at Noah to get up. I’m glad Nick is here but he wasn’t much fun on the way home either. He kind of reminded me of a father having to pick up his drunken teenager. It makes me wonder how many times he’s done this song and dance with Noah.

Nicholas dips into the car and pulls the long-haired boy out easily. He comes to just a bit, enough to notice who’s holding him and seems to relax. I notice how sleepy Noah leans into Nick and nudges his head into the crook of his neck. I can tell Nicholas isn’t happy with the situation but even still, he wraps an arm tight around Noah’s waist. The scene is so delicate considering the circumstances of how we got here.

Nick gestures to me to sling his right arm around my shoulders to help carry a mumbling and incoherent Noah inside. We hobble him through the front door of the empty house and by a miracle we got him upstairs to his room in one piece.

The actions of babying a drunk Noah and throwing him into bed felt all too much like déjà vu. His room was the same, if not worse, than from that night of the party. There are so many clothes and so much trash on the ground that I can barely see the floor. Nicholas and I basically used our feet to push a path through to his bed. There was only a tiny sliver of mattress even visible, the rest was piled up with just… garbage. At least, it looks like garbage. We plop him on the bit of mattress just like last time and try to navigate our way out. Just as we reach the door, there’s a stir behind us followed by a sleepy groan.

“Nicky?” Noah’s voice cracks.

Nicky

Nicky?

Nicholas tenses up immediately, I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t like the name or if he doesn’t like me hearing it.

“Nicky.” He whines again, calling him over.

Nick sighs and looks at me gesturing me to go on without him. I make my way to the door and watch from behind the doorframe while he makes his way back over to the boy.

When Nicholas reaches the bed, Noah’s tattooed arms swing around his waist, pressing the side of his face into Nick’s tummy while he’s still laying down. I squint my eyes to see what Nicholas is doing to find that he’s brushing Noah’s hair out of his face.

“Thank you.” Noah mumbles against his shirt.

“I know.” Nick replies softly.

I step out of the doorway before Nicholas turns to leave to make it seem like I hadn’t just witnessed that.

Once I’m alone with Nicholas, I sense that he’s fuming which is a much different vibe that the one that was just stroking Noah’s hair.

“Why the fuck would you take him out drinking in the middle of the day?” He asks through grinding teeth. The way he poses the question implies that it was my idea, like it was my fault. Which I guess it half was.

“I don’t know? He made me go to this meeting with Bryan and-”

“He took you to meet Bryan?” He interrupts.

“Yeah? To brainstorm for the music video?” I answer as if it was obvious.

“Music video?” He sucks at his teeth, taking an aggravated step back. “Funny how this is the first time I’m hearing about a fucking music video.” He drags his fingers across his forehead in a pinch. “I need a drink, or a blunt or… something.” He sighs then turns away from me heading towards his room down the hall.

I decide to follow him, “Why is a music video bad?” I ask, confused.

He glares at me from his open bedroom door, “If you’re gonna pry you might as well help me with this blunt.”

I tug at my bottom lip in thought. I shouldn’t stay here with him, and I definitely shouldn’t be smoking with him while still a bit tipsy, but curiosity gets the best of me. “Fine.”

His room is dark and lit with LED, neon, and decorative lights on almost every surface. Opposed to Noah’s, his room is neat, tidy, and spotless. His bed is pressed against the wall and perfectly made with grey sheets, a black duvet and coordinating pillows. I set my bag down on the ground in front of his bedside table and sit on the end of the bed right behind his desk chair. He has a similar gaming set up to Noah’s, two monitors, a long light-up mousepad, and some other neon lights. There’s even some plushies in the corner of his desk that I recognize to be some animals from video games. He sits on his gaming chair which is black and blue opposed to Noah’s black and red. Reaching across the desk, he grabs a jar, a lighter and part of a wrapping leaf.

“I thought you said you can’t roll?” I ask as he starts filling the brown wrapper with ground weed.

It isn’t until the smell of green hits my nose that I realize there’s also a sweet smell filling the room, something like butterscotch. I track the smell to find a burning candle sitting on a bookshelf across the small room.

“I can’t. But Folio’s been trying to teach me.” His focus is on evening out the grounds across the leaf. His tongue begins to carefully dampen the edges of the wrap and the sight of it sends a buzzing down between my legs. He was so good with just his cock… I can’t imagine what his tongue would do to me.

I press my thighs together and shift in my seat then clear my throat, “So, what’s so bad about Noah wanting to make a music video?”

He sighs harshly, “It’s not about the music video, it’s about him making decisions without us.” His tongue does one last swipe before sealing the roll completely. “And because of,” Gesturing towards Noah’s room with the blunt between his fingers, “That.”

I furrow my brows, “Because of what?”

The lighter sizzles the end of the roll and burns a cherry red when he inhales. “The drinking.”

The words flash me back when I overheard them in the kitchen when Nicholas asked him about meetings. Guilt swells in my chest knowing I contributed to it today. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault he’s a fucking drunk.” He exhales thick smoke above us. “He gets like this then does a bunch of shit without talking to us first. That’s how Just Pretend got released as a single before we even have an album finished.”

He’s getting riled up but seems to stop himself from continuing, choosing to take another hit, maybe in the hopes of it calming him down.

I take the blunt from his offering hand and put it to my glossy lips, leaving a rim of light pink when I pull away to exhale. “He really did that?”

“Vallie, our album is barely halfway done. We haven’t even chosen a title yet.” He says watching me inhale again. “That is who you wanna put the focus of the band on, that is who you wanna draw people in with: a drunken fucking mess.” He hisses and snatches the roll the second I offer it back. His tone and actions are getting increasingly more aggressive, in a way I’ve never seen him before – not that I’ve really known him for that long, but it makes me nervous either way.

“I mean… he is the lead singer.” I counter, even though I know he’s not going to like it.

Nicholas’ thick brow hangs low over his eye, “He’s a liability. Since you’re so concerned with money and numbers, that should be very clear to you.”

He’s right.

If Noah can get as unhinged and unpredictable as he’s saying and as I saw today, he is a liability.

I’m a fool for not realizing it sooner, but maybe the glimmer of hope from his small cooperation blinded me.

Regardless, Noah’s reckless behavior is something to think about… when I’m not cross faded with the band member I already fucked.

“It doesn’t really matter if he’s a drunk, Nicholas.” I steal the blunt back and perch it between my index and middle fingers. “If we do this correctly the girls will be flocking to him.” I take in a short puff and let it out. “And to you, to the band as a whole.”

He rolls his eyes so hard I think they might fall out. “Oh, cut the business jargon Vallie. We get it, everyone wants to fuck Noah fucking Sebastian.” He shoots up from his seat in aggravation.

So much for the weed calming him down.

My brows knit together confused at the inherent jealousy. If I was more foolish, I’d think this jealousy was over just me, but it seems much more complex than that. It’s murky and conflicted and I feel a piece or two missing in the puzzle.

It’s not uncommon for band members to be jealous of their frontman and to an extent, I feel this is true for them as well. But there’s still something more than that.

Something more complicated.

More confusing.

Could it be…

No, of course not. Right?

Perhaps it’s not just me he’s jealous over.

I shake the thoughts from my head, today is not the day to unpack any of that. Maybe it’s the weed that’s making me overanalyze things.

The smoke over filling my nose reminds me that I’m in possession of the still lit blunt, so I take it and smash its sizzling end into the ashtray.

“This isn’t about whether or not people want to fuck Noah, this is about the success of the band Nick.” I stand to meet his face, so he’ll actually listen to me. Well, look up at his face anyway.

Never in my entire career have I ever had to convince anyone this much to make more money.

“The band is already successful.” He snaps back, his eyes stone cold grey looking down at me.

I’m not about to insult his band again so I shift the topic, “As I said before, fangirls don’t mean just for Noah. Sure, he’ll get the most, that’s natural. But they’ll be there for you too. Don’t you want that?”

“No.” He says shortly.

“You don’t want your own group of girls that you get to pick and choose from at every show?” I say, leaning heavy on the clichés of it all. “Girls that are begging to be backstage and are willing to give you anything you want?”

But it’s not until then, as it’s coming out of my mouth, that I realize the idea of it settles a weird pit in my own stomach. It’s something also reminiscent of jealousy but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Odd.

“No, I don’t want fucking fangirls Vallie.” He says through gritted teeth.

“What kind of fucking rockstar doesn’t want fangirls?” I can tell he’s being purposely difficult and it’s making me begin to lose my composure.

“Oh my god, are you really this fucking dense? This isn’t about fucking groupies.” He nearly spits the word.

I’m trying to put puzzle pieces together in my head but they’re not fitting. I don’t understand his anger, where it’s coming from or the reason.

“Then what the fuck is this about then? Because I called him hot at our meeting the other day? Because we went out drinking today?”

Bingo.

His eyes narrow down at me and I’m suddenly extremely aware of his height. He’s not as tall as Noah, but he still towers over me. “I just think it’s funny that you’re trying to make a sex symbol out of a man who couldn’t make you cum if he tried.” He hisses, his steel eyes warn me not to push.

But I do, I always push.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

He gives a breathy chuckle and brings his hand to hold my chin up by the tips of his fingers. “If he wasn’t a passed out drunken mess right now, I’d drag him in here to prove me right.”

My eyes widen not just at his words but at his deep voice that shifted into something sinister. He has to be joking right? He wouldn’t actually bring Noah in here to do…that, would he? And why is the thought of it… of both of them causing a throbbing between my legs.

Regardless, fear creeps up my chest one rib at a time and gets lodged in my throat. My mind can’t comprehend how Nicholas can go from his normal sweetness to something that scares the shit out of me.

“Why do you care if he couldn’t make me cum?” I ask for some stupid reason. “And you only made me come once, how do I know it wasn’t just some miracle? I was drunk after all.” I pop a brow and cross my arms over my chest.

I never was one for cooperation.

His hand seamlessly slides down from my chin to around my throat. There’s no pressure beneath his fingertips but they’re taunting a good squeeze.

“If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll have to prove you wrong.” I swallow hard under his grip and squeeze my thighs together. I shouldn’t be this turned on by him talking to me like this. “Did it feel like a miracle? Did it feel like I don’t know how to make you feel good?”

My eyes glance at the barely cracked open door nervous that someone would see, and he catches me. “Noah is passed out. Nobody else is home, nobody to help you out of this.” He growls and presses a tad on the sides of my neck. My eyes widen at him, at how easily he can control me from just one hand on my body. The rest of my body is begging to bow to him. “Answer the question.”

I gulp slightly and question my options. I could take the safe route, the route I should be taking, and tell him what he wants to hear so I can leave. However, that’s not what the pooling in my panties is telling me to do. I readjust under his grasp with still crossed arms and a straightened back. “I’ve had plenty of guys who’ve only been able to make me cum maybe once. You’re probably the same.”

I didn’t think his brows could lower any further and his eyes turn a dark stormy gray. Long, messy strands of black hair shadow across his face menacingly and there’s a tinge of true terror in my stomach. In one fell swoop, he slams me onto the bed with his hand still stapled around my neck. He nestles his head by my ear while his hand trails down my body, “I know you’re used to talking to the others like that, but you’ll learn not to talk to me that way.” He whispers lowly and the grip on my throat tightens ever so slightly. His hand lingers around the waistband of my skirt and somehow already found the hidden zipper. He roughly tugs it down past my ankles and forcefully spreads my thighs open with his leg. His hand moves up from my throat to grip my jaw hard and looks straight into my eyes, “I can fuck you better than that pathetic mess ever could.”

I’m melting under his touch; he looks nearly angelic despite his devilish demeanor. His raven hair is long, wild, and framing his face perfectly. His necklace with the thorny circular band symbol hangs just above my face and it takes every ounce of self-control not to pull it into my mouth. I want all of him, every part.

 Though everything right now is really intense, all I want to do is kiss him. So, I do just that. Quickly, before he has a chance to stop me, I gently take his face into my hands and meet his lips with mine. He gives in immediately and matches my energy making the kiss soft and tender even though he’s about to tear me apart. I really enjoy this about him, this duality he contains, and I can’t tell which side of it I like more.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate and for our tongues to be fighting for dominance, but his hand never leaves my jaw. He draws a finger up my drenched covered slit then circles around my swollen nub. A small whimper escapes me into the kiss and a smirk tugs across his face. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already making a mess.”

I squeeze my eyes shut trying my best not to fall apart in his hands already. My hands are burning for him and all I want to do is touch him. I feebly go to palm the visible strain in his sweatpants, but his hand leaves my throat and snatches my wrist, pinning it to the bed. “You’ll touch me when I want you to touch me.” He growls. My eyes widen at his words and renders me speechless. “Is that understood?” He demands and I nod quickly.

His hands rake down my body until he’s on his knees between my legs, his fingers hook into the band of my panties and rip them down. Fingertips ghost-trail up my inner thigh which only worsens the pulsing in my clit begging for him. He then gently runs two fingers up my folds using my arousal to easily glide up and down slowly, from my bud to my entrance. I’ve never had any other man take his time like this, it’s almost like he’s taking the time to learn my body and how I react to anything he does. Like a predator learns its prey. His fingers spread me apart, causing every muscle in my body to tense up from being so exposed to him.

“So pretty.” He mutters. The sides of his fingertips begin to slowly scissoring around my clit and I unintentionally let out a small whine. I feel him smirk into a kiss he presses onto my inner thigh. “Maybe making you cum will fix your little attitude problem.”

The comment pisses me off, but it’s not enough to risk not getting his mouth on me, so I let it slide. I’m nearly vibrating under any touch he gives me and I’m so desperate for more.

He leaves a trail of kisses up my thigh until he reaches my core, each kiss reminds me how much my lips miss his. Time is moving too slow for my growing impatience. The second his tongue meets where I need him most, pleasure blooms across my body. He then slides two fingers inside, curling them directly into my sweet spot. I bite down on my bottom lip to contain my noises. In delicious unison, his tongue and fingers work together perfectly. His tongue is circling and rolling against my sensitivity and making me feel a knot in my stomach begin to grow already. There’s so much pleasure and tension built up in my body that all it wants to do is let it out in noises. I bring a hand to cover my mouth to stifle any moans that threaten to escape.

He rolls his tongue flat against me and pulls away just a bit. “Nobody’s home and Noah’s passed out.” He reminds me. “You can be as loud as you want for me.” He says before going to lightly kitten lick at my clit. “I wanna hear how I good I make you feel.” I look down to see him giving me a prideful smirk that makes me want to ravage him back.

That’s all the invitation I need to let my moans pour out with every roll of his tongue or curve of his fingers. My hand flies down to grip his hair, raking it through and gripping the root. “Fuck!”

“C’mon baby let it out,” He says against my core. “I know you can be louder than that.”

A loud moan rips out of my chest and my hips roll up into his mouth, “Fuck Nick!”

I’m so close already it’s embarrassing. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and I’m tingly all over, down to my toes. My body is overwhelmed with his tongue rolling and swiping at my sensitive clit and his fingers knowing exactly where my g-spot is. I’m so needy and so desperate, I feel like I could just explode.

I grip on tight to his locks and rut my pussy into his mouth. He is the only thing in my head. In this moment, my mind belongs wholly to him. He lets me know that he loves the way I’m reacting to him by using his free hand to grip onto my thigh tug me closer. The louder I get the harder he works and the harder his fingers dig into my thigh.

The tight knot in my stomach feels like it’s about to snap. “Fuck, Fuck!” I cry, my legs involuntarily closing in around his head.

“Give in to me baby, cum for me, will you?” He says between licks. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

I’m nearly blinded by his words. I’ve never been called anything like that before nor have I ever thought I’d like it. But that was it, that tipped me over the edge.

My back arched violently from the bed and my fingers curled tightly into his hair. Euphoria washes over my entire body and I’m seeing only fuzzy white. I can’t control the noises that leave my mouth but I’m sure if anybody heard them, they’d assume this was an exorcism.

He doesn’t stop until I fall limp under him and twitch at every tiny flick of his tongue. He finishes by cleaning all my juices up with one fat stripe up my slit. He looks up and chuckles at me, “You did such a good job for me.” He presses a kiss on my knee. For some reason his words make me feel warm all over.

He pulls his fingers from me and the emptiness they leave behind makes me crave his cock even more. He brings them to his lips, taking each tattooed finger into his mouth, sucking them clean. He smirks at the taste and at how I’m looking at him like I could devour him whole. The violet glow from the lights around us illuminate his features beautifully. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there’s starlight draped across his skin, sprinkled above his brow, across his cheek bone and down the perfect slope of his nose. The purple reflects into his silver eyes making them look as though they encapsulate some lavender cosmos. Everything about him is so delicious, it’s hard to focus on just one part of him. He’s gorgeous.

He tethers me back to earth when runs his hands up and down my thighs as if to soothe me. “Are you okay?” The front of his brows tilted up.

“Yeah, yeah.” I nod my head.

“Do you want to continue?” He asks.

I inadvertently smile at the question. “Yeah, I do.”

The ends of his lips curl into a happy grin then leans down to gently cup my cheek and presses a soft kiss to my lips. He feels like ice water on a scorching summer day. I know I’m going to regret this when it’s over, but right now, it feels too good to pass up.

“Hold on let me get a condom.” He goes to reach behind him into his nightstand.

“Oh um, we don’t need one. I’m on birth control.” I say shyly. “If you want to that is, of course.”

He gives me a skeptical look, maybe surprised that I even said anything. “Are you sure?”

I stare at him just for a second contemplating if it’s a smart idea but the insatiable need for him convinces me it’s fine. I nod.

He pats my outer thigh telling me to make room for him. I scooch backwards in the bed as he slides his sweats down, letting his cock spring free. My mouth waters at the sight of it – the first time on the couch I only felt it in the darkness, but now I see it, every ridge and vein. I’m throbbing at the mere idea of him inside me. “Please fuck me.” I ask desperately, looking up at him.

He grips my cheeks and looks directly into my eyes. “It’s cute that you think you can tell me what to do.” He hisses and I’m suddenly once again afraid of what he could do to me.

He teases my entrance with his tip rolling it up and down my slit excruciatingly slow. While he is deliberately taking his time, the lustful glint in his eyes tell me that he’s just as needy as me. Finally, he slides in, stretching me out a bit painfully. I don’t remember him being so thick, but it was probably the alcohol that helped me to adjust to his size.

He lets out a deep groan once he’s bottomed out. “Fuck you’re so tight.”

Heat fills my cheeks at his comment and I’m putty in his hands again. I go to grab his face but quickly pull away remembering his instruction to not touch without permission. He looks at me confused with knitted brows.

“I just um, I just,” My stomach is suddenly filled with butterflies with razor wings, “Could you kiss me again?” I ask with a timid, almost embarrassed voice.

A smile tugs at his lips like it’s the easiest task he’s ever been asked to do. He leans down, cups my cheek in his hand and meets our lips once more. It’s gentle and sweet while he rubs his thumb across my cheekbone tenderly. “You were so good for me.” He says quietly within a small gap between our lips.

The praise makes my heart swell, only making me want to be better for him. I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer into the kiss and wrap my legs around his hips pulling him deeper inside me. Slowly he begins rolling his hips into me, his length filling me over and over.

“Fuck.” I breathe out as he speeds up, “Fuck you feel so good.”

His head falls into my neck and begins peppering open mouth kisses into it while he buries himself into me. He kisses on all my sweet spots only increases the buzzing in my clit. His cock is so big that it fills me up completely and then some. He stretches me more than I thought was possible – it stings, but in the best way. I blink the tears from eyes from the pain.

“So good baby, taking fucking all of it.” He grunts as he thrusts into me hard and fast.

I’m so fucked out, my body has basically gone limp below him as he fucks me senseless. I’m on a pink fluffy cloud of building pleasure and my eyesight blurs everything around me. I can’t think about anything other than him. Right now, I am his, wholly, completely, entirely.

I let out a strangled moan as my hands reach around him to his back, digging my nails into it. He hisses at the pain of it.

“What did I tell you about touching?” He asks in a low whisper beneath my ear and fear climbs up my spine.

“I’m sorry.” I squeak.

His thrusts increase when he pulls back. I whine at the loss of contact on my neck. His hands roughly grab each of my wrists and pin them above my head while his length drives into my sweet spot.

His grip tightens around my wrists while the other slithers down my body. His fingers ever so lightly graze my skin and leaves a trail of goosebumps behind. The pads of his fingers find my aching clit and begins kneading slow circles into it. I wriggle beneath him from the sudden stimulation and let out a whimper.

“What did I say about touching?” He repeats and I dare not stay silent again.

“I’m not allowed to touch you.” I struggle to say past the noises threatening to leave me.

In contrast to earlier, his face now is angular and sharp. His thick, dark brows are low and menacing.

“Why can’t I touch you?” I ask meekly, although perhaps not the smartest idea.

He dips his head into the crook of my neck while his hips continue to crash against mine like waves to sand. “Because when you touch me, I can’t be responsible for what I’ll do.” He whispers low and raspy. “It makes me want to fuck you like that pussy is all mine. It makes me want to fuck you until you’re so sore that you can’t stop thinking about my cock, not even for a second.”

My eyes widen flutter closed and roll my hips up into him. His words are driving a rampant pulsing in my clit that he’s so deliciously helping with his fingers.

I blink up at him, “Maybe I want that.”

His face his twisted in concentration and now confusion. “What?”

“Well, I… maybe I want those things. Maybe I want you to take my pussy as yours. Maybe I don’t want to stop thinking about your big fucking cock. “I straighten out my shoulders. “Maybe I want to feel empty without you inside me.”

“Fuck.” He breathes out and speeds up, both in his thrusts but his fingers on my nub.

My body fills with tingling, budding excitement. He rails into me mercilessl, and I love every second, every inch of him – no matter how much it hurts.

His face falls into the crook of my neck and fills my ears with raspy breaths. “Fuck I’m close.”

“Me too.” I breathe out. “Cum inside me, please.”

He lets out a deep groan below my ear. “Fuck.” His thrusts become quick and hasty, but still precise and deliberate. The added speed to his momentum tips me over the edge.

“Fuck!” I yell out as my orgasm crashes into me like tidal wave. I feel the need to anchor myself to something, anything. One arm hooks around his neck, holding on for dear life. My other arm is tangled in the duvet and yanks on it so hard that it rips the sheet off the corner. My eyes roll back in bliss as he drills into me ruthlessly. Moans, curses and his name all tumble from my mouth.

It seems that enough to push him over the edge too. “Fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He grunts just before he stills for a moment, and I feel his cock twitch and spill his seed deep inside me. He lets out a long groan as he continues to rut into me through his orgasm.

When we come down from our high, Nick pulls from me and lands next to me in bed. He leaves me with an emptiness between my legs that apparently only his cock can satiate. But being filled to the brim with his cum definitely helps with that.

My eyelids are heavy as they slow blink up at the ceiling where the glow of his lights illuminate the edges of the room. Our mutual heavy breathing is the only noise filling up the room.

“You alright?” He asks, looking at me in the dimness.

“Mhm.” I turn my head slowly towards him, he’s glistening in sweat, the baby hairs that frame his face are stuck against his skin. He looks beautiful like this.

I never really thought a man could be beautiful. Handsome? Sure.

Cute? Yeah.

Hot? Of course.

But he supersedes them all. He’s stunning, angelic, nearly ethereal.

Of course, this gorgeous man has to be my client. I shouldn’t even be in his bed right now.

The warmth of his body next to me isn’t doing me any favors. After the whole Noah/bar situation earlier and all of me and Nicholas’ … activities, I’m drained completely. I can’t help but nuzzle into him, laying a bit on his arm.

I half expect him to pull away or make some snappy remark, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls his arm out from under me and wraps it around my shoulders.

My first instinct was to run but my exhausted body refuses. I cuddle onto his chest sleepily. My arm stretches across his front.

I am far too tired to be worried about the consequences. Through in my half-awake state I mumble, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t be doing any of this.” He clarifies while raking though my hair gently. “But I can’t help it, I don’t know. I can’t help what you do to me.”

My cheeks burn hot at the compliment. “Shut up.”

I think about it for a moment longer and it sets an odd, confused, sad pit in my stomach. “No but really we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He’s silent. “I know.”

I gulp staring at the wall.

I don’t even really know what “this” is, but I don’t want to think about it now. And I certainly don’t want to ask. I’m not even sure if it is anything or if it’s anything I want more of.

“If the others find out…”

“I know.” He stops me.

Another factor slips into my mind. “If they find out, they won’t take me seriously.”

I see his face twist in thought, maybe trying to calculate if that’s true. “Yeah, maybe… I guess.”

I don’t have the energy to explain the implications of it all, so I leave it. I sigh and hide my face in his chest.

Suddenly there’s a stir from outside the room that disrupts the calm peace between us.

A door opens from down the hall.

Nicholas’ eyes shoot open, “Fuck it’s Noah.” He whispers urgently. “Get under the covers.” He directs and I listen.

I quickly flip the duvet over the top of both of us and lay as flat as possible beside him. He places an extra pillow on top of me.

There’s a soft knuckle knock at the bedroom door that’s been cracked open this entire time.

“Uh, come in!” Nick calls.

The door creaks open. “Hey.” Croaks a still somewhat drunk Noah.

“Hey dude… what’s up?” Nick asks.

Discreetly, he slips his hand beneath the covers and taps his finger gently against the bed. I take the hint and intertwine the tips of our fingers together. My tummy flips at the way he gives my fingers a little squeeze. It’s a small gesture, but it’s one that says some version of ‘partners in crime’.

“Were you… were you watching porn or something?” He asks, no doubt with a propped brow.

“What?” Nicks voice cracks. “No, no, I’ve just been watching…” He takes note of whatever’s on the TV. “Bob’s Burgers.”

“Oh…” Noah trails off unconvinced. “I just heard loud… noises coming from your room.”

My cheeks flush cherry red in embarrassment that I had been that loud. Nicholas gives my fingers another tiny reassuring squeeze.

“Nope, nope.” Nick shakes his head. “Nope, just Bob’s Burgers.”

“Right…” Noah replies. “Also, um, I just wanted to say thank you for rescuing me… us, from our mess.”

Us.

Our.

Nicholas nods, “Yeah of course, no problem.” He says hurriedly.

There’s an awkward silence between them. I can only assume it’s Noah giving Nick an odd look.

“Okay well… I’ll let you get back to… Bob’s Burgers then I guess.” Noah tapers out.

As the door begins to keep closed Nicholas blurts out, “Drink water!”

Noah pauses at the door, “I will. Thanks.” Before closing it behind him.

Both Nicholas and I are frozen in place until we hear Noah’s door close. I pop my head out from the duvet and the moment our eyes meet we bust out laughing. I press my forehead against my arm flat on the mattress laughing probably the hardest I have in a while.

Nick hits my shoulder playfully. “Shhh!” He whispers between his own giggles. “He’s gonna hear us!”

I swat his arm, “You’re laughing too you asshole!”

My chest hurts from both how hard I’m laughing and how much I’m trying to stop.

“’Were you watching porn?’” I imitate Noah which causes another fit of laughter.

“God.” Nick shakes his head. “That was pretty bad.”

I sigh and drag my hands down my face. “God I’m so fucking embarrassed.” I whine and land my face down into my folded arms.

“Yeah, I guess that’s kinda my fault. I thought he was knocked out.” Nicholas rakes through my hair softly. “I would say I’m sorry… but I’m not. I loved making you sound like that.”

I prop my head on my arm to scowl at him. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended to be compared to a pornstar. Jesus.”

He chuckles and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear then trails his fingertips across my jaw, tilting my chin up. “I’ve never heard a pornstar sound as good as you did with my tongue in your-“

I reach up and cover his mouth before he can finish because I know if he does, I won’t be able to leave without having him again. “Shush!”

He rolls his eyes with a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

Quiet falls over us before panic courses through me and I perk straight up. Oh my god I’m such a fucking idiot.

Nick wiggles his brows at me, “You good?”

“Jesus I’m so stupid. I was only concerned about the birth control but I didn’t even fucking ask if you’re clean?” I ask, the reality of my horny decisions hit me all at once.

Truthfully, I was selfish, and I wanted to feel him fully. Though it didn’t occur to me until just now that he is a musician after all.

“Yeah?” He answers without hesitation. “Are you?”

“Yes. Of course.” I reply like it’s obvious. “But are you sure? Because I know, like, being in a band and everything…”

“Yeah, I got tested recently. I’m clean.” He leans over and pulls out a folded paper from somewhere in his bedside table, and hands it to me. “Here. Proof.”

I unfold the paper to reveal exactly what he said, negative test results. But then I notice the date. “Recently? This is over a year old?” I flip the page towards him.

“Yeah,” He clears his throat. “I haven’t slept with anyone since then.”

I scoff, “You? Haven’t slept with anyone in over a year?”

“Except you? No.” He shakes his head.

I squint at him skeptically and cautiously hand he paper back to him. “I find that hard to believe. I mean you’re…well you.”

“I’m not quite sure what that’s supposed to mean but,” He sighs and sits up a bit, “My ex and I broke up just before that.”

“Got it.” I nod. I wonder if that’s the ex Noah mentioned in the kitchen weeks ago, Alice. But I’m certainly not going to ask and then have to explain how I know that.

I lay back down and reclaim my spot from earlier, cuddling into him with my head on his chest — even though I definitely should be trying to escape before the rest of them get home. It’s been a long while since I’ve had someone to cuddle like this, it’s nice and warm. I probably shouldn’t feel safe with someone I barely know, but I do, and I can already feel it starting to lull me to sleep. Sleep is not something that comes easy to me, most nights I only get about 4 hours of it.

His fingers begin to play with my hair and my heart swells. I can’t help but nuzzle into him further, he makes a small comfortable noise. The pads of his fingers start to massage my scalp.

I’m not sure if he just assumed I fell asleep, but a quiet hummed melody comes from his chest. It’s familiar and comforting but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I know this song

What is it

Without lifting my head, “Is that twinkle twinkle little star?”

He chuckles, sounding a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was cute.” I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to hold back a smile even though he can’t see me. “I liked it. Keep going?”

He’s quiet.

“Do you ever sing? I don’t hear a lot of other vocals on your tracks besides backups.”

He laughs, “No, no. I can’t sing. Not really anyway. The only thing I think I’m half decent is twinkle twinkle little star, that’s why I hum it. I don’t really know why. Maybe I sang it a lot as kid or something? But I hum it sometimes if I’m stressed or nervous.”

I stay silent for a bit. “Are you nervous right now?”

Quiet.

“Yeah, I guess a bit. But mostly I thought it’d help you sleep.” His finger tucks a hit of hair behind my ear.

“Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t know.”

But I know.

“Me too.” I reply quietly.

He seems to understand as I do.

I hear his heart rate pick up under my head. My own heartbeat matches his and suddenly I feel like I’m in high school hanging out with a crush for the first time. I’m so grateful that I’m not facing him because my face is burning hot.

“Can you sing it to me?” I ask.

He chuckles anxiously, “No, no, no. My voice isn’t that good, and the song is so lame.”

“C’mon,” I search for his hand and hesitantly intertwine our fingers. “Please I wanna hear it?”

He lets out a small, flustered groan, “Fine. But you can’t make fun of me. And this doesn’t,” He gives my fingers a tight squeeze. “This does not leave this room. Ever. Got it?”

I giggle. “Got it.”

He timidly begins singing and his voice is light, soft, and smooth. Which isn’t really what I expected from his deep, grainy voice. It’s beautiful and soothing, nonetheless.

Between his voice and his fingers massaging my head, I don’t last long enough to even hear the second verse.

Next Chapter -> 10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit [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 😅 i'm so sorry)

ALSO! Thank you so much for the love on my new series, Intertwined 💗 New chapter coming soon! 💗

#love triangle a brewin if u squint #i never write fluff so sorry it's not the best it is not my strong suit lol #but i've been so soft lately IDDDDDKKKKK #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nicholas ruffilo x oc #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nick ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x ofc #bad omens rpf #nicholas ruffilo smut #nicholas ruffilo fluff #concreteburialplot works

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 11

11 - Peak Fashion

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc [vallie] 👀

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5k

warnings: angsty? but cute?, jealous nicholas, sassy but goofy noah, something revealed, very short time skips, 18+ MDNI

summary: vallie abruptly wakes to a million texts to meet for a last minute music video. upon arriving she discovers that the band is not at all prepared which sets her and noah on a mission.

Reminder: This contains the very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from Chase Atlantic ...... and introduces another extremely mild crossover 🫣 they are both merely for side character/reference purposes. Nothing huge, don’t worry lol just for fun

Disclaimer - This story is semi-AU since it does not follow actual timelines or events. The band is still fairly small & does things entirely on their own with no other support.

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

VALLIE

Sunlight warms my eyelids and gently lulls me awake. My eyes shoot open at the realization that I have once again fallen asleep somewhere that isn’t my home – well my pseudo-home anyway. It seems that anywhere else feels homier than my showroom-esque Airbnb.

This time I don’t wake up in a panic, the smell of Christian’s woodsy cologne reassures me that I’m somewhere safe. The last time stamp I saw on my phone last night was 4:30 am. We had spent the whole night catching up, watching our favorite comfort shows, and binging all his favorite American snacks that he can’t get in Australia.

I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone. A groan escapes me when I see that the time reads 8:47 am. My brows curve up at the ridiculous amount of notifications that fill my screen. While my job doesn’t really have “days off”, I had no specific plans or meetings booked for the day. So, it’s unexpected.

Most of them were from Bryan, the Omens’ photographer that I met at the warehouse with Noah. The messages flood my screen with missed calls and texts.

Bryan: Warehouse. 8 am.

Bryan: Hello? Are you awake?

Bryan: Music video. Today.

Bryan: I think you should be there.

Bryan: Hey!!! Music video !! Today !! 8 am !!

Bryan: Dude

Bryan: We’re starting. Show up whenever, if you want.

Fuck.

Kras continues to snooze next to me and I know that not even a plane crash could wake him up. So, I press a quick peck on his cheek before I roll out of bed and quickly begin gathering my belongings.

I’m rushing because well… Bryan seems like the only Omen who wants to cooperate or include me in any actual band activities. So, I have to be here. And I’m already an hour late.

I leave a small note on Christian’s dining table, saying how nice it was to see him, thanking him for the pep talk, and that I’ll see him and the rest of his band in a zoom meeting next Monday morning.

I’m still not sure if saying yes to his job offer was the right choice. I’m already stretched thin enough between my main client and now Omens, adding Chase might be more than I can handle. While my main client’s fanbase is much more… intensive, Chase Atlantic is still larger than both of them. And that swirls a terrifying pit of anxiety in my stomach because I’m not quite sure I’m equipped with enough experience to handle it all.

Gravel cracks beneath my tires as I pull up to the warehouse. I gather my bed head hair into the closest thing to a bun I can get it and try to rub off the slept in mascara smudged under my eyes.

My engine isn’t fully off for half a second before I’m out and locking my door.

I smooth out the exact same outfit I wore to Christian’s yesterday since I didn’t have time to stop home. Usually, I would never show up to a work event in sweatpants, a cropped cami, sneakers, and a flannel, but here we are. It’s not like the band is particularly formal anyway.

I see Folio and Jolly first, who both give me strange looks, like they’re surprised I’m here. Then, Noah and Nicholas once I get to the entrance. They seem equally as shocked too.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asks, lined with his usual snarky tone, seeming almost offended by my presence.

“I invited her.” Bryan speaks up from the background, adjusting the camera around his neck. “And you’re about an hour late by the way.”

Regardless of his criticism, he gives me a smile and a side hug – which surprises me.

Aside from Nicholas – for…obvious reasons – Bryan is the one who meets me with the most warmth out of the five of them.

I offer a closed lipped smile and a small awkward wave to the band. I wasn’t prepared to accidentally crash a music video shoot.

“Nice outfit, you just get out of bed?” Noah quips.

I roll my sleep-deprived eyes, “Nice to see you too, Noah.”

The rest of the band disperses into whatever they were doing before I arrived.

Nick walks up to me and I can tell he’s trying his best to act casual.

“Hey.” He says simply but quietly between us.

“Hey.” I match his somewhat awkward tone.

My gaze reluctantly meets his and I immediately regret it. His hair is pulled up into a fluffy ponytail with his hair flat against his head and he looks so good.

This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

“Val?” He asks trying to get my attention.

“Huh?” I shake my head from the fuzz sitting in my brain.

“Oh, I just said it’s nice to see you.” He says demurely. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I take note of the dullness of his normally bright eyes, and the dark bags beneath them. It makes me wonder if he got as little sleep as I did.

The energy of this whole ordeal is so… odd. It makes me feel as though I’m once again missing parts of a puzzle that I’m not aware of.

His gives me a once over and lingers a bit on my flannel.

“Oh! Right!” I set my bag down on a nearby table before slipping the flannel off my arms, giving it a lazy fold, and offering it over to him. “Here have it back.”

He instinctively takes the folded garment, looking at it like I just handed him the wrong Chipotle order. His brows furrow, initially in confusion then into something much different.

Before he responds it hits me.

I fucked up.

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

“This isn’t mine.” He states in a slighted tone.

“Oh- Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night–“ I immediately realize that probably wasn’t the best thing to follow that up with. “I just need a coffee.”

“Right.” He lands the flannel back in my hands. He goes to pass me and stops as he’s grazing my shoulder. “And who’s ever it is, has shitty taste in cologne.”

My eyes widen.

Did I just put Kras’ proposed scheme into action by accident?

It’s fine.

It’s perfectly fine.

I’m fine.

I discreetly shake out the tips of my fingers and glance up to finally take in my surroundings fully. The floor is covered in a massive tarp, covered in… dirt?

I steal the phone from my tote pocket and carefully walk over to where Bryan is messing with some equipment. I shuffle right up next to him and whisper, “What…exactly is happening here?”

“I don’t know. Noah just woke us all up at the ass crack of dawn and said we needed to do this today.” Bryan shrugs, not stopping his actions for me, and continues walking carrying a large umbrella light.

“…and you all just went along with it?”

“Listen. I just work here man.” He sets down the heavy light and sighs dramatically.

I can’t help but chuckle at his verbiage.

“Okay… and why did you have to drag me into this?”

“Well, you have a job to do, don’t you?” He questions as if he doesn’t know the answer.

“I mean y-“ I begin but he cuts me off.

“Exactly.” He walks back over to a pile of equipment on a plastic table, and I follow him around like a puppy while he talks. “And you want them to like you, yes?”

“Well, I mean,” My eyes glance over at Nicholas who’s sat on a stool tuning a teal bass. The memories of our bodies entwined graze over my tongue and his working fingers sends a tingle between my legs.

Well, one of them likes me.

Is my first reflex to say.

But I’m not even sure if that’s true, especially not now. I should know better than to trust band boys anyway. I manage them, I’ve been around them since the start of my career. I’ve been best friends with Kras for nearly a decade. I’ve seen what band men do. How they treat the women they use to get off, even the ones they love.

“Look. They need you.” He says, his tone more serious than before and leans against the wall beside him with crossed arms. “Whether they believe it or not, they need you. You and I both know that. If Noah wants to be an arrogant, stubborn asshole, then let him. But don’t give up on them. They just need time.” His eyes drift to the four of them messing around with their instruments. “You’re stuck with them one way or another. And they’re not a bad bunch to be stuck with. Trust me.” He gives me a half smile before nudging my arm. “Loosen up a little, you might find that you like ‘em.”

Bryan pushes himself off the wall going to find some other task and I’m left with this peptalk I wasn’t expecting, especially from him.

I take the time to watch them, really watch them. Noah is well … Noah, so there’s some grumpy tension that follows him – but the rest of them, even while grumpy and irritated, flow together effortlessly.

Noah ripped everyone from their sleep and yet, they’re still all here. Sure, you could write that off as good work ethic, but I think it’s more than that. As unpredictable as he is, they let Noah lead them. At least for the most part.

They all showed up for him today and the whole time I’ve known them.

‘This band is all he has.’ Nicholas’ words echo in my ears from that rainy night in his car.

Maybe they all know that, and maybe they all honor it.

They all love him enough to show up and keep showing up.

Christian is right. I can’t let my feelings cloud this. If not for me, then for them.

As I clear from my dissociation, I realize I must’ve hyper fixated on their bustling about because the only thing I see now is their attire… or the lack thereof.

“Wait, wait, wait.” I cautiously step around the piles of dirt on a brown tarp to reach Noah. “Is this the whole outfit? This is what you’re wearing for the video?”

Noah sighs in exasperation and drops the corner of tarp he’s holding to face me. “Yes? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Problem with it? It is the problem.” I give him a once over, just black jeans and plain grey shirt with a faded CocaCola logo on it. I reach to his sides and give the seems a small tug to pull the logo taught against his thin chest. “You see that? What does that look like to you?”

Noah raises a snarky brow at me, “A Coke logo?”

“Wrong. That-” I drop the edges of his shirt and stab his sternum with my finger. “That is unpaid brand advertising.”

I can tell he immediately wants to roll his eyes but doesn’t when he realizes I’m right.

The rest of the boys wear similar outfits, jeans, t-shirts, hoodies.

“Okay, well this is all we brought last minute, and the house is like an hour away, I’m not driving back there.”

There’s no way I’m letting them shoot an entire video in dirt with such casual outfits. I tug at my lip and tap my fingertips on my arm in thought.

As if a lightbulb appears above my head, a possible solution crosses my mind.

“I think I saw a thrift shop in that strip where the bar is.” I shrug, “I can try to find something there. But I can’t just let you play around in dirt like this.”

Noah raises his brows and crosses his tattooed arms across his chest, “Well I’m sure as fuck not letting you pick out outfits for us.”

I walk over to my bag, picking up easily and walking towards the warehouse opening. “Then you better hurry up and get in my car.”

Noah and I had been looking through racks of dusty clothes for about 10 minutes without speaking to each other. I knew a thrift shop was somewhat of a risky choice, but after not seeing anything worth shit for a bit had me nervous.

I’m not sure why I’m nervous – but I shouldn’t be making risky bold decisions with them.

Across the racks I catch Noah picking up a thick peacoat. At first glance, I find it absolutely repulsive, but for a music video? It could be exactly what we need. At least it’d be better than a Coca-Cola shirt. For the vibe I think he’s going for, it might be perfect.

He lifts up the hanger and flips it around, his brows knitting intently at it. He likes it.

I haven’t known him that long, but he’s pretty transparent, no matter how mysterious he thinks he is.

I quickly divert my eyes back down when he goes to return the coat to its place on the rack. I know that if I say I like it, he’ll immediately be against it, so I keep my mouth shut.

“So, what kinda vibe are you going for?” I ask casually.

He glares over at me, “What do you care? Changing our clothes was your idea remember?”

“Whoa.” I put my hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I’m sure you wanna put us in the same preppy clothes you put your other big mysterious client in. Which I’m still convinced is Harry Styles by the way.”

I roll my eyes knowing which “client” he’s referring to since I haven’t mentioned that I took on a third one yet. He means the first one, the one that landed me here in the first place, my ‘big success’. At least that’s what they kept telling me when sitting in meeting after meeting getting pitched different ‘next big artists’. And somehow, I got stuck with Noah & friends™️.  

“No, it’s not Harry and I don’t put them in preppy clothes.” I reply absentmindedly sifting through hangers.

“Them?” He picks up on my slip immediately and my eyes widen slightly. “It’s a band?”

I clear my throat and shake my head. “No – no that’s not what I–“

“It is, isn’t it?” His brows lower at me. “It better not be a conflict of interest, that would be a breach of contract and I-“

“Relax. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have signed contract if it was a conflict of interest.” I glare over at him with annoyed, tired eyes.

I sigh then allow my tense shoulders to roll back. “Yes. It’s a band. But they aren’t a heavy band they’re ehm…. more classic rock, hippie-ish?” I shake my head. “And trust me, I would NOT put you or the rest of you in any of their clothes.”

I press my lips together trying to stifle a giggle that threatens to escape at the thought of Noah in a glitzy jumpsuit.

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his brows at me in offense. “You don’t think I could pull off some hippie clothes?” He asks seriously, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it either, he’s just trying to be difficult.

Then it occurs to me that this reverse-psychology defiant behavior may work to my advantage.

“No, actually. I don’t think you could.” I shrug, sliding some clothes over. “Just like I don’t think you could pull off that hideous peacoat.”

His brows rise higher than I’ve ever seen them. “Oh really? Maybe that’ll be the one I choose then.”

Checkmate.

I ignore it to not put too much emphasis on it. “You never told me what’s the vibe you want.”

“Hm.” He pauses, maybe he doesn’t even know. “I’m not sure. Cult-y? Business-y? Underground elite secret society-y?”

“Wow.” I say with wide, surprised eyes and exaggerating my mouth around the word. “That’s… specific. And you planned to achieve that with graphic tees?”

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

“Would I know your other band?” He inquires, the curiosity obviously eating at him.

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

We continue to mind our own business in our individual searches while early 2000’s pop plays through the small, dingy shop.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Noah lifting up an obviously homemade PitBull t-shirt.

I can’t help but let out a loud laugh.

He snaps his head over at me with a goofy grin, “What you don’t think Mr. Worldwide is peak fashion?”

I shake my head laughing, “No, I definitely wouldn’t say he is.”

“I think this might be the most badass piece of clothing I’ve ever seen.” He seems half serious and half trying to hold back a cackle.

“It’s a… choice. But you know what? It might be perfect for you.”

He feigns offense, “Why because you think I’m so badass?”

A laugh erupts from me. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Well, I’m getting it. I might wear it in the video.” He throws the white shirt into his cart.

“Great.” I reply sarcastically.

The search seemed to be going a bit better the further we dig. I found a couple pieces that might work for the rest of the band to fit into Noah’s vaguely hyper-specific theme. He’s done the same, just not as successfully.

Across the aisle I notice his hands grasping the sides of a hideous white puffy jacket with patches of sherpa all over it and an oversized hood. The nylon material rasps as he rubs it between his inked fingertips. My brows curve at how he looks at it like it’s some lost treasure.

He pauses before turning to me, lifting it up to showcase its entirety.

“What do you think about this?” He asks genuinely, which throws me off. It sounds so authentic, so real, and not hidden behind any sort of sassy, crude walls, or ulterior motives. I don’t know if he’s ever truly talked to me like that before, especially not sober.

I’m still cautious since he’s fooled me before, so I stay neutral by lifting my shoulders to a shrug. “I don’t know. Why don’t you try it on?”

He eagerly scoots past his cart that takes up the entire aisle and walks to the mirror. The thick zipper hisses at how quickly he undoes it, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

I watch him in some form of awe, maybe it’s more curiosity of his behavior. The more I get to know him, the stranger he seems.

He slips his skinny arms through the sleeves, and it fits him loosely but just right, like it’s made for him – though that doesn’t detract from how it still looks a little ridiculous, just less so now that it’s on him.

He turns back to me and spreads out his arms like a child showing off a Halloween costume.

“Well?” He questions.

“I mean the jacket is still pretty silly.” I chuckle. “But it looks nice on you.” I compliment honestly.

A toothy grin spreads across his mouth and turns back to the mirror, “Yeah, I think so too.”

Quiet falls between us again and we move on to different sections. I get so focused on rifling through the clothes that I realize I’ve lost track of Noah. I scan the small store and can’t spot him.

“Noah?” I call and as if right on cue, I feel something dropped around my head followed by a scurrying Noah.

“What the hell?” I reach up and catch the edges of the large hat pulling it off and finding that he’s dropped a massive sombrero on my head. “Hey!”

He chuckles and pulls his shoulders to a shrug, “Might be perfect for you.” He mocks my words from before about the Pitbull shirt.

“Ha-ha very funny.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I’ll get you back.”

“Bring it on.”

What follows is a series of us trying to find the most ridiculous shit to throw on or at each other.

First, I got an ugly, dusty, grandma shawl that I threw on Noah’s shoulders as best as I could before quickly walking in the other direction.

Then, when I wasn’t paying attention and with great stealth, he was able to drop a yellowing Disney rain poncho over my body.

Now, he’s stood in front of a full-length mirror holding up various different pieces of black clothing. In my stroll through the hat section, I found a leopard print fedora perfect for his big head. I sneak up behind him, making sure not to get in frame of the mirror. I reach up on my tip toes to somewhat reach his head, tossing the hat up to bridge the rest, hoping that it would land.

It does land, crooked atop his head.

I cover my mouth to hide a chuckle before backing away slowly. Before I can make my escape, he snaps his head over in my direction, jostling the hat to fly off his head. In a swift move, he catches it with fumbling hands.

“Hey that’s not fair! You’re tiny and fast!” He plops the leopard fedora back on his head and anchors a fist at each hip playfully.

The goofy sight of it all makes me double over nearly cackling. “It’s not my fault you’re big and clunky!”

He pulls the flimsy hat off his head, squishing it thin between his fingers pointing at me. “You better watch your back, Thornhill.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary, Sebastian.” I tease with raised hands feigning fear.

“You think you’re so funny huh?” He speaks directly at me probably trying to distract me, but I catch him snatching another random hat off the rack while he slowly makes his way towards me.

My eyes glance at down at his actions and I make a run for it. I don’t know what I expected but, he chases me around the thrift shop like we’re little kids in a toy store. I stealthily weave through metal racks full of musty clothes trying to lose him, giggles pouring from both our mouths.

I ignore the judging looks from the employees and the few patrons shopping around us. It’s a blessing that I can’t hear the murmuring around us. My ears are full of only my own heartbeat and the sound of his playful and competitive laughter.

It’s then that I realize I hadn’t fully heard him laugh before, not sober anyway, and it’s so… endearing. It’s one of those laughs that’s contagious and only makes you laugh harder. Which isn’t something I expected from him. None of this is really what I expected.

He finally corners me in the scarf section. I spin around in the tiny space between us and within that split second he’s snatched a bizarrely colored thin scarf and throws it around my neck like a towel, keeping hold of each end.

Just as fast, I grasp a similar scarf and match his actions, throwing the scarf up around his neck. With the speed and rush of the motion, I accidentally tugged him closer and lower to me.

My eyes flutter up and the edges of his laughing grin shorten when his eyes meet mine. Unexpectedly, my breath hitches in my throat. I never noticed just how chocolate-y brown his eyes were until now. Normally his eyes are so serious or angry or… drunk, but right now, they’re wide and warm and just as confused as mine. His eyes shift side to side seemingly searching mine for something I’m not quite sure of.

Being this close to him really emphasizes just how tall he is, the top of my head barely meets his shoulders and for some reason, that realization makes my heart thump harder against my ribcage.  

I’m frozen where I stand, I should pull away, but I can’t. I shouldn’t enjoy the butterflies that run rampant in my tummy. It’s just Noah after all. The asshole that somehow always ends up drunk on the floor. The one that tells me how to do my job and how not to manage him. The one that told Nick that I’m a ‘stuck-up corporate bitch’.

But, that’s the same Noah that’s chasing me around this store like we’re playing tag on a playground.

My tummy twists and my breath sharply lodges itself in my throat when I catch his eyes dart to my lips – once.

Twice.

He moves closer, just marginally, and then again – eyes, lips.

I mimic his actions, my eyes flicker from his brown eyes to light pink lips.

Then he’s even closer – so close I can feel his exhaled breath brush past my nose.

Again.

Eyes, lips.

I feel his knuckles just graze my shirt where he’s still holding the scarf at either end and it sends electricity down to my fingertips.

Then, a strand of his long brown hair falls from behind his ear, and it seems to snap him from our daze. He lets out an awkward chuckle, steps back and slides the scarf off my neck by one end.

“We should probably wrap up here… I’m sure the guys are sick of waiting for us.” He scratches the back of his neck and diverts his eyes from me.

It seems like the right thing to do, but for some reason it leaves me a little disappointed.

Disappointed in what exactly?

What the fuck just happened?

I pull the scarf off of him in the same manner and hang it back up on its hook. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Checking out is hushed and awkward as we stand next to each other in front of the workers that had to watch us nearly destroy the store.

We walk out silently until I notice that he’s walking out with the leopard print fedora proudly plopped on his head.

“You really bought that stupid hat?” I chuckle calling after him carrying 2 heavy, giant bags full of clothes.

“Yeah duh-“ He begins looking back but trips over his feet across the exit door frame.

I bring a plastic bag-occupied hand up to cover my mouth to hide a giggle.

“Shut up.” He directs me with a pointed hand even though I hadn’t said anything.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kinda goofy?” I laugh, shaking my head and clicking my key fob to unlock the car.

“Goofy?” He gasps as if he’s offended. “Valerie this is peak fashion.”

I chuckle and roll my eyes, “Get in the fucking car, will you?”

He laughs and matches my actions of throwing the heavy bags in the backseat. He slides in the passenger of my blue Mercedes rental and the clunky weight of his lanky body shakes the small car. He stuffs his legs into the tiny, allotted space for them. I would make a comment about how large he is, but I’m not in the business of boosting men’s egos.

I press the push-to-start and begin navigating my way out of the parking lot. It takes a bit for my phone to connect and begin playing music, but when it does it fills the car with a familiar tune.

Noah reaches over and spins the dial to turn up the music. It doesn’t fully register in my mind what song it is until Noah speaks up.

“Is this the hippie rock band you’re representing?” He asks, a bit of sharpness to his voice.

“I-I well, no, I just-“ I’m caught off guard and stutter. I’m new to handling more than one client and having them not know about each other seemed like the best course of action. But I particularly didn’t want Noah to know since I knew he’d compare what I do with others with what I do with them.

“It is, isn’t it?” He snaps. “You manage Greta Van Fleet?”

“I… well,” I pause then sigh out of pure exhaustion. “Yes. I manage them.” I say flatly, somewhat annoyed. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business though.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly just taking in the song – Lover, Leaver.

“You’re right. They’re nothing like us.” He announces simply. “The voice on that singer is insane though.”

I can’t stop my brows from furrowing, and from one abruptly propping up.

He’s not upset.

He’s not upset?

“Yeah… I know.” I reply cautiously, glancing over at him to decipher the unbothered look on his face.

“Well, don’t look so surprised, they’re good. I can appreciate good music, can’t I?” He lets a few moments pass. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. They sound so familiar…” He trails off in thought.

“I know, you were expecting Harry Styles.” I joke. “But it’s not, so you can chill.” I tap my fingertips across the leather steering wheel.

“I knew it wasn’t Harry.” He shifts in his seat, crossing his arms across his skinny waist with his hands draping over his sides. He rests his head on the door looking out the window. “If it was, you wouldn’t have taken us.”

“I bet you wish it was Harry Styles then huh?” I say as a somewhat half joke and glance over at him while mindlessly tapping my fingertips on the steering wheel. He stays silent, just watching the trees go by. I can’t tell if the silence is intentional or if he’s just zoned out.

Some time passes before he returns to the conversation.

“Well, I don’t care if you represent them. Just know that I’m not dressing up like some wizard man like your other singer.” He warns firmly with a playful pointed finger.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sebastian.”

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: Thank you if you've made all the way to chp 11! lol thank you for reading anything i write. 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 🥺)

#can i get a w in the chat for noah character development finally #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian fluff #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #noah sebastian fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian rpf #bad omens rpf #concreteburialplot works #virality update #virality series #noah sebastian x fem!oc

[concreteburialplot]

-> 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘; 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲/𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Noah Sebastian x Fem!OC [Vallie]

Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!OC [Vallie]

-> 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙏𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙀𝘿; 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

Noah Sebastian x Nicholas Ruffilo

-> 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙸𝚃; 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢/𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Noah Sebastian x Fem!OC [Amelia]

* = smut

-> (Don’t Cry Over) Spilled Wine*

Noah Sebastian x Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!Reader

-> Draped Across*

Noah Sebastian x Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!Reader

-> Delicate Beginning Rush*

Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!Reader

-> The Wonder Of You*

Birthday Boy!Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!Reader

-> Anything Else?

Nicholas Ruffilo x Sick!Reader

-> We’ll Get You There*

Morning Sex!Nicholas x Fem!Reader

#thought it was time to post a MASTER masterlist #seeing as i have wip one shots coming #text dividers by: cafekitsune #sparkly divider by: real-afterglow #shitty banners by me :) #my perfectionist ass worked very hard on this #concreteburialplot masterlist #maybe i will post an about me next 💗 #concreteburialplot works #fic masterlist #bad omens fanfic #virality series #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #intertwined series #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x reader #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo fanfic

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 04

04 - Snapped Neck

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlists: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.1k

warnings; VERY SAD 🥲, mild yelling/verbal abuse?, hints at past abuse, reference to past character death, noah is a devastated horrible depressed mess, short time skips, don’t say i didn’t warn you - sorry in advance, don’t hate me 🥲

reminder; THIS IS AU, nothing is meant to be accurate, including family history/events/dynamics/members/names !!

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

i’d like to offer a small playlist for this chapter:

seven - taylor swift

matilda - harry styles

winner - conan gray

hard times - ethel cain

anything 4 u - LANY

if it keeps you up at night - the swoons

-NOAH-

After much-needed water bottles, I’m finally starting to feel somewhat normal again. Folio’s asleep in bed next to me while I lay on a laughably thin blanket on the floor. My eyes fully adjusted to the darkness and all I’m focused on is the popcorn ceiling and counting each plaster peak.

The party rages on the other side of the room and I wonder if anyone out there is sober enough to take me home. It’s almost 1 am and the party hasn’t slowed down. I sigh roughly and roll over to wrap the thin pillow around my head to cover both ears. Even through the cotton I can still vaguely hear the music and a song starts that Nicholas and I were obsessed with a couple months ago.

I chuckle quietly at the lyrics,

“That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch…”

Such a silly song, even though it’s nothing like what we play or what we regularly listen to – we somehow always get the same pop-y songs stuck in our heads at the same time, then end up loving them unironically.

I shake my head with a stupid grin, thinking about the time we were in the kitchen doing a proper, ridiculous performance while we blasted it through a Google speaker. It started with that song but then snowballed into an entire concert at 2 am – all while his little sister just made fun of us, until she eventually caved in and joined our set.

We were all mic-ed up: me a dustpan, Nicholas a broom, and Stella a spatula.

I dig my front teeth into my bottom lip to stifle a laugh that would definitely wake up Folio.

The memory makes the ground below me that much more rigid.

I’ve already tried sleeping every which way on this god-forsaken carpet, but I can’t seem to get comfy.

The hard floor must be the reason I can’t fall asleep.

I flip back to lay flat.

I don’t really understand why Nick got so upset, but it’s been a long night, so I guess I get it. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled about getting in the lake. Fucking Folio.

And I know he doesn’t like parties.

I don’t really like them either. I think? Maybe I do now? I don’t know.

But I didn’t want to do this without him.

And I just let him leave like that…

God why did I let him leave.

I want to go home.

I need to go home.

There’s a sharp twist in my stomach when I unlock my dying phone and find no texts from him.

I open my bank app to check my balance. $33.87.

I exit and click on the Uber app, put in our address to see the price. $27.59.

I hit request.

I get home after an Uber ride from a questionable middle-aged man with ridiculous combover.

I fumble with my keys at the front door only to find that it’s not locked. I press my weight against the creaky wooden door to push it open. The house is quiet, if Nick’s car wasn’t in the driveway, I’d think the house was completely empty.

I quietly set my keys down on the wooden dining table across from the kitchen. The bedroom door in the hallway is closed, which I expected. I cross the linoleum and very gently twist the doorknob to peer inside. The small room is illuminated solely by moonlight beaming in through the large window by the bed. I step into the room and click the door closed behind me. When I walk over to the bed, the shimmering white light acts like a spotlight on his face and what I notice churns something deep in my chest. Dried streaks coat his face and look almost like rivers from puffy red eyes.

Surely, he didn’t come home that upset because of the argument we had, right?

I tug at my lip and very gently slip into bed beside him beneath the puffy duvet. The movement causes Nicholas to stir and turn away from me. I stay completely still, not even moving a muscle until he’s completely settled then turn in the same direction as him, just inches away from his back.

If he’s that upset with me, would he even want me here?

Am I intruding?

Is it really intruding if I live here too?

Maybe I should’ve stayed on Folio’s floor.

It’s only then that it really sets in that I really moved out, well more like kicked out, and I live here now. Mostly anyway.

But just because you live somewhere doesn’t mean it’s your home. While I love living with my best friend, and I love his family, and they feel like family – they’re not. As much as they try to not make me feel like one, I am an outsider here.

Even Folio in his frat house, sure he just got hazed and whatever, but he belongs there.

I don’t belong anywhere.

The closest thing I’ve gotten to what I imagine belonging feels like, is with Nicholas. But again, he has no tie to me. We’re friends of course, but if I pissed him off and he wanted me gone… well I’d have nothing. I’d have nowhere to go.

I hate this feeling, this feeling of relying on people.

It’s weird taking up space somewhere you have to walk on eggshells because it’s not yours. Because you don’t belong.  

It’s not like I felt like I belonged at home either, not after Mom passed.

So here is better than there at least.

At least there’s no yelling or slamming doors here.

My eyes drift through the moonlit darkness to the small pile of my belongings in the corner of the room. The sight sends a chill up my spine and my heart rate noticeably rises. I’m reminded that there are still some things waiting for me at my stepdad’s.

I want the ability to truly get on my own, if I don’t want to rely on people, I need to get my stuff so that I can actually make something of myself.

I need to at least try.

And to do that, I need my guitar and my keyboard. I’m nothing without them – and I won’t be able to be anything without them.

-NICHOLAS-

My eyes shoot open when shrill screams fill my eardrums. I nearly jump out of my skin at the noise, especially since I had gone to bed alone.

I don’t have the luxury of trying to figure out how Noah got home, just that he is and he’s having another night terror.

“Fuck.” I mutter.

Because I did such a great fucking job dealing with this last time.

I tug at his freezing cold arm and shake him vigorously but of course, it didn’t do much the first time, why would it have a different result now.

I replicate what I did the last time and straddle his lap, grabbing his wrists and pinning them at his sides to restrain his jerky movements.

“NOAH!” I repeat his name with increasing volume.

He wakes up slowly after a couple times of calling his name.

“Nicholas?” He asks groggily, with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

I sigh, “Night terror.” I state curtly and pull off him, landing beside him with my back towards him.

“Oh.” He says softly and his eyes falter. “Sorry.”

There’s a twist of guilt in my gut because I should be softer with him after his terror, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. The teary soreness in my eyes reminds me just how much I don’t have it in me. I tug the sheets closer to my body.

He rustles around a bit trying to get comfortable, but I fall back asleep quickly. For a bit.

It’s not long after, maybe an hour or two, that I’m awoken once again but this time to a bunch of noise and the overhead light on at full brightness.

“What the fuck.” I mumble, sitting up and rubbing one eye while keeping the other mostly shut.

I turn to find Noah sitting on folded knees, manically rummaging through the couple bags he moved in with. He’s ripping through each one, tossing pieces of clothing out left and right, shaking out the empty bags as if they have hidden compartments.

“What the fuck are you doing Noah.” I ask, my tone soaked in annoyance, exhaustion, and anger.

“I can’t find some of my shirts. I need to get the rest of my shit out. Today.” He replies, his words rushed.

My brows knit together at his sudden – and poorly timed – bout of bravery and motivation. He’d been putting this off and avoiding it for weeks. And now he’s tearing apart his stuff, throwing shit all over our room at 4:30 in the morning… after a night of drinking?

I yawn and shake my head in confusion, “Wait, wait, wait, how did you even get home?”

“Uber.” He replies simply, his gaze still focused on his third bag not even looking up at me.

“You took an Uber home?” I ask somewhat skeptically, “Why didn’t you just call me?”

His rummaging movements pause with a bundle of shirts in hand, “Didn’t wanna bother you.” Then continues digging through the bag.

Normally I would go on a tangent about how I’d rather call me to pick him up instead of doing something stupid like possibly be driven home by someone inebriated – but I’m much too depleted, both physically and emotionally to do so.

“Well, you should’ve called me.” I tug the cotton sheets closer to my body and bunch the material to my chest. “What is this really about? You’re acting so strange.”

I reach over to the light switch and turn the knob to dim the white-yellow hue of the light above us.

“I just need to get my shit, Nicholas.” He huffs, seeming aggravated by my questions.

“Well, you’re gonna go alone if you keep snapping at me like that.” I retort, even though I’d never let him go alone.

He exhales and deflates with a balled-up band tee in his hands. “I just need to do it today. If I don’t do it today, I might not ever be able to.”

Honestly, this is the last thing I fucking needed after earlier tonight. I just wanted to fucking sleep. And not be around Noah.

Yet here I am, awake, around too much Noah.

“Fine.” I sigh. “Fine, we can go today – but only if you fucking wrap up whatever the fuck you’re doing and come to bed. If we’re really doing this today, you don’t need to be sleep-deprived for it.”

“Fine.” He agrees reluctantly and begins gathering the clothes to shove back into the bags. “But I probably won’t be able to sleep.”

“Well, you should at least try.” I scoot back into my left side to make room for him.

The box spring squeaks under the weight of him when slides in and immediately turns away from me. Normally I would be a tad offended, but tonight, I’m grateful.

Surprisingly, small snoozy noises escape him not long after his head hit the pillow. I lay facing him, watching the rise and fall of his ribcage like a metronome.

Concern and fear suddenly flood my bloodstream like a bad drug. Getting most of his stuff out the first time was no picnic and I just know this last time is going to be even worse. Frankly, I’m a tad worried about the things he’d left behind, I wouldn’t put it past his stepdad to throw them out.

I shake my head and try to focus on my breathing to calm me down. When that doesn’t work, I try counting.

I drift off to sleep before 30.  

My faux-leather steering wheel cover cracks under my fidgeting fingers. Noah can’t seem to sit still, running his hands up and down his thighs probably to self soothe. The anxiety is thick and tangible in the car. He would never admit it to me, but I know he’s scared shitless about going back home. Noah always tried to hide it from me, but I’m not stupid. It doesn’t matter how “anemic” or thin you are, you don’t amass that many bruises that frequently. I always wondered if that’s why he started wanting so many tattoos so suddenly. Maybe, on some level, that’s what made me want to start tattooing in the first place.

The normally 20-minute-long car ride felt like three hours, but when we arrived, I could’ve sworn it had only been 3 minutes.

I park on the curb at the end of the driveway and shut off the car. Just being on the tiny patch of lawn has my heart thumping through my chest and it’s not even my battle.

But I guess if I’m here with him,

If it’s his, it’s mine too.

As much as he wasn’t prepared to do this, neither was I. My gaze lands on the rectangular windows of the small yellow house. From the outside, it looks so normal, so happy even. It’s almost eerie how far from the truth that is.

I look over at him, just now realizing he hadn’t said a word the whole ride. He’s slumped in the passenger seat, one lanky arm wrapped around his own waist and the other stationed at his mouth. His eyes glued to the house behind me as he chews on his thumbnail.

“We can still go back home, Noah. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready.” I offer gently, mostly because I don’t think either of us are fully equipped to do this.  

“No. I have to do this.” His eyes finally falter away from the house and land on me.

“Okay. You sure you’re ready?” I ask quietly.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip. “No. But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay?” I hold out my pinky. “Always, remember?”

He nods and hooks onto my pinky. “Always.”

As expected, I’ve landed myself in the middle of a brawl between Noah and his stepdad. I feel guilty and useless standing there as a bystander not interfering, but my feet can’t seem to move and my vocal cords have ceased to function.

Noah started off strong, full of adrenaline and blind bravery, but it didn’t take long for George to wear him down.

My heart beats loud in my ears and I can’t hear a word they’re saying. All I see is him waving around Noah’s guitar like it’s a toy, using it as an extension of his exaggerated furious expressions. Noah’s tall, but George is much taller and stronger than him, so Noah just looks like a mouse running around an elephant, scrambling trying to snatch the instrument back.

I’m not sure what they’re even screaming about but the argument escalates further than I ever expected it to. My eyes round as I witness each of George’s hands slide to either end of the guitar’s neck.

No

He wouldn’t

As if in slow motion, I watch the light pale from Noah’s face. His eyes wide and teary, and his brows curled up. I can see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes in real time as he watches his stepdad easily snap the neck of his beloved guitar.

The break is quick and sharp and fills the room with the sound of cords plucking and wood splintering. The noise after is even louder though, just jarring silence.

Until George opens his mouth again. “Get your sad, pathetic little toys and your little boyfriend out of my goddamn house.” Rasps his deep Western accent.

He forcefully tosses the broken instrument at Noah, hitting him so hard it knocks him backwards. The livid man storms across the house and slams the master bedroom door behind him.

Noah’s knees buckle and land harshly on the carpeted floor, holding the guitar in his arms as if it’s a wounded soldier in battle. His face scrunches up around his eyes and tears just begin pouring from him. His chest hiccups with each sob that escapes. He curls the wooden pieces in his arms into his chest and rests his forehead against the curve of the guitar. His cries heave his entire body.

I’m frozen where I stand. What I just witnessed might as well have been a murder. I’ve seen Noah cry, of course, but this is something I’ve only ever seen once before. Besides that one time, I’ve never seen him this bad. At least, he’s never letme see him this bad.

I gently meet him on the floor. For some reason, I feel hesitant to touch him, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.

I don’t dare even touch the arms that are gripped onto his guitar so, I rest my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t even react to my touch at all, as if he can’t even feel it.

“Noah…” I say cautiously. “Let’s just get you out of here, okay? We just need to grab your stuff and get out. We can figure this out later… later when we’re not here.”

He doesn’t respond and when I try to nudge him even a little bit, he’s solid like concrete where he’s kneeled.

“C’mon Noah we gotta go.” I stretch up to double-check that the bedroom door is still closed. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff. We just need to get you out of here.” I urge and squeeze his shoulder a bit.

His fingers dig into the instrument as he takes a deep sniffle and screws his eyes shut tight, shoving the salty tears out. He just gives me a little nod against the guitar, letting me know that he understands but doesn’t move.

“Please, Noah.” I beg and try pulling at his arm again. “Please get up. I need you to get up for me.”

He gives a little of his arm to me and not much more. But I take what I can get and use both of my arms to weakly lift him up from the floor by his underarms. I basically carry him out of the house, his body limp as I drag him backwards across the overgrown lawn. Shards of dying grass cling to our clothes and dust kicks up all over the back of his jeans.

I feebly open my back door and let him crawl into the backseat with the guitar tight in his grip. He immediately lays with it across the cushions and some boxes.

Luckily, we had gotten most of his belongings already so there was just the final sweep left to do.

Thankfully, George is still holed up in his room, though that doesn’t ease my panicked heart-pounding in my ears. Noah’s room is completely bare except for a half-filled trash bag of miscellaneous belongings. I drag the heavy bag across the stained beige carpet, but I stop at something that catches my eye.

In one cubicle of many that make up a huge bookshelf are a couple of photo albums in chronological order spanning over a few years. From the peek-through covers I can tell that they’re filled with pictures of his parents, or maybe at least his mom.

My head snaps at a stir that comes from behind the bedroom door and in a split-second decision, I scoop all the photo albums and throw them into the black trash bag. I use all my strength to heave the now extra bulky bag across the yard as I run towards the car.

I toss the bag into the trunk and slam the door before rounding the car, throwing myself so hard into the driver’s seat that I nearly tip the car over. I take a glance in my rear-view to check on Noah and find his body tightly curled around the instrument sobbing even worse than how I left him. Seeing him like this… gives me an ache in my chest that I didn’t even know could hurt so much. It’s so excruciating that I could almost vomit from it.

I quickly shift the car into drive and speed off so fast that my wheels squeal.

I’m unsure what to do or what to say. It feels like saying anything would only make things worse at risk of saying something wrong. I always feel guilty when situations like this happen with his family because I can’t imagine what he feels. I don’t know what I’d do without my family, and I can’t even fathom someone treating their child like that, especially him. Noah is the last person on earth that deserves that.

I bite my nail as I walk back and forth in the living room lost in my thoughts.

“Honey, why don’t you come sit down?” My mom suggests patting the couch cushion next to her. “Pacing around the living room isn’t going to help anything.”

I sigh and meet her on the couch, “You should’ve seen him, Mamá.” I run my fingers through my sweat-coated roots. “Oh my god, it was horrible.”

She begins rubbing small circles into my back, “I know Gatito.” She tries to soothe, using her Spanish nickname for me – she always told me I resembled a small cat. “But we know what his family is like, I’m surprised something like this hadn’t happened sooner.”

“Yeah…” I trail off, biting down hard on my thumbnail thinking of all the things we never told her his stepdad had done. If she knew the things he’d done to him – especially in front of me – who knows what she’d do. She’s a Hispanic single mother, nothing would be able to stop her – and a George vs. Mom battle royal is the last thing we need.

“I’ve just never seen anyone that… defeated before. That guitar was everything to him.” I hang my head and use both hands to cover my face.

“Well, you know, maybe we could pull together some extra money by Christmas?” She offers. “I could pick up some extra shifts at the hospital.”

“No, no, Mom, you don’t understand.” I sigh and turn my head to her against my propped palm. “His mom gave him that guitar.”

“Oh.” She replies solemnly in understanding.

“There’s a music store in town where I get my vinyls, they do repairs there.” My sister speaks up from across the room, resting on the column that separates the living room from the kitchen. “Maybe you could see if they could fix it?”

I blink blankly as I process her words and it’s like a lightbulb illuminates above my head. “You actually might have a good idea for once Stell.”

 She rolls her eyes, “I’m trying to be helpful, you don’t have to be rude.”

“I’m your brother, it’s kind of my job to be rude.”

“Whatever.” She takes a sip from her obnoxiously sized water bottle. “There’s a really cute guy that works there, I think he does most of the repairs. His name is Jolly, tell him Stella sent you.” She winks.

“Augh.” I groan in disgust and wave her boy craze away. “I’ll be sure to do that.” I add sarcastically.

A serious stillness falls over the room like everyone is equally unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you gonna do about Noah?” Stella asks softly, her voice laced with concern.

My leg bounces in anxious uncertainty as my eyes drift over to my closed bedroom door.

“I don’t know.”

I gently knock on my door and slowly creek it open. The room is pitch black with just Noah on the bed curled up around his guitar, his shoulder length hair splayed across the pillows, and the duvet wrapped around him like a cocoon. He’d been hidden away in my room like this since we got home.

“You awake?” I question timidly, readjusting the tray in my hands.

It takes a moment, but he replies with a tiny, short groan.

“I brought you soup. You know, the chicken noodle my mom makes that you like so much?”

Another brief pause followed by a slightly more intrigued grumble.

I take it as permission to enter and precariously make my way over to him. There’s a sliver of mattress left behind him, and I fit half my ass on it.

I allow him the space to be quiet with me for a bit.

“How are you doing?” I ask, even though it’s an asinine question.

He just sniffles.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I sigh quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”

He sniffles again and scooches further into the bed, onto my side.

I silently tap my index finger on the plastic tray, pondering what that could mean before I speak. “You want me to lay with you?”

He gives a small ‘mhm’ groan.

“Okay, I can do that. But can you eat for me?”

He replies with a ‘nuh-uh’ whine.  

I exhale knowing this was going to be an uphill battle. “Noah, you’ve gotta eat.”

He shakes his head in resistance again.

“C’mon, just a couple bites…for me?”

A pause before he lets out a defiant but agreeing sigh.

“You’re not gonna move, are you?”

He shakes his head.

I breathe out trying not to sound annoyed because I should be grateful that he even cooperated this much.

Maneuvering around him from behind, I hold the bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other. Thankfully, the soup had cooled down to just a bit warmer than room temperature. I scoop a spoonful of it, making sure to get a little bit of everything: noodle, chicken, and carrot – if he’s only going to take a couple bites, I have to make sure they count.  I carefully bring the spoon over to his lips, he lifts his head just a bit and takes the spoonful into his mouth. He let me give him 4 or 5 bites, which was more than I expected, before rejecting the rest.

I set the bowl on the nightstand, lift the sheets, and nestle into the space he made for me.

“Thanks for eating.” I say quietly. “I know you didn’t want to.”

He nods mutely.

I press my lips together. “I’m sorry about what happened today.”

He’s silent. Slowly but surely sniffles and sobs begin to pour from him again. I immediately feel the twist of guilt in my stomach for being the one to trigger his tears again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-I can leave if you want some priv–“

His hand reaches behind him and firmly captures my wrist.

“Stay.” He begs in a coarse whisper, the first thing he’s said since we came home. “Please?”

His voice is so cracked and hoarse, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was sick.

I falter a second to respond but he must’ve felt the hesitation.

“It helps.” He croaks. “Remember?”

The churn in my chest returns and there’s an ache in my heart that accompanies it. If I could somehow magically take all of this away, I would, even if it meant trading places with him. Even if it meant I’d be the one hurting instead.

I feel so fucking useless, not being able to do much for him.

But at least I can do this.

“Okay.” I respond cautiously and settle further into the bed, now essentially spooned around his body.

His grip on my wrist never left so I let our joined arms rest on his hip. I can’t seem to gather with the right words to say to him, I mean what can you really say after something like that?

So, I offer him the only words that feel suitable.

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. You know that right?”

There’s a long quiet, so long that I think he may have fallen asleep.

But then he squeezes my wrist.

“Thank you.”

I sense the urge to do something, but I’m not sure how he’ll react. I don’t know, maybe it would help?

I tug at where his hand meets mine and he gives me an upset grumble, like he doesn’t want me to leave.

“I just… is it okay if - can I try something?” I ask shyly, suddenly very nervous, nervous enough to have my heart racing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his brows furrowing. I can tell he wants to be stubborn and keep me latched there, but curiosity always gets the best of him. He slowly loosens his grip on my wrist.

I didn’t notice that my palms were sweating until I’ve retrieved my hand. I press my lips flat and feel like my ribcage could burst open at any minute from how hard my heart beats against it.

My body is screaming at me to do it and as much as I want to fight it, I can’t.

Maybe it would help

I let my arm go where it wants to go. It slithers beneath the covers and through the space between Noah’s arm and his side. I wrap my arm around his waist and pull flush against him.

We both freeze. My ears grow warm as the hour-long seconds pass.

Maybe he’s uncomfortable

Maybe he thinks this is weird

Maybe it is weird?

Is this weird?

Maybe he doesn’t like it

Maybe I’m making it worse

Maybe–

Unexpectedly, he just melts into me. His body molds into my arms like they were made just for him.

He finds my arm and brings it to his face, pressing his damp, swollen eyes against it. Small sobs fall into my arm and his grip on me is so tight I could turn blue.

Maybe he feels safe, and maybe he just needed to feel safe to let the rest out.

My own eyes well up at the sound of him, at the feeling of his body heaving in my arms. I press my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna be here.” I reassure him again through my own held-back tears.

He wipes his tears off with the collar of his shirt before pulling my arm back around his chest. He nuzzles into me, and I feel my heart swell so big it fills my entire chest.

I think I already know the answer, but I wanna hear it anyway.

“Does this help?”

He lets out a sleepy sigh as he nestles his back into my chest.

“You always help, Nicholas.”

Next Chapter -> 05 - Girl Crush*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; I know this was a heavy one 😅 i'm sorry, i hope you were able to enjoy it regardless.

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#sorry i know this was sad 😬 #or maybe not idk #noah cries a lot im sorry #he won’t always be such a crybaby i promise #i have edited this so many fucking times bro so sorry if it sucks 🥲 #intertwined series #concreteburialplot works #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #noah sebastian fic #noah x nicholas #noah x nick #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah x nick fanfic

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 03

03 - when the party’s over

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 5.6k

warnings; alcohol, frat house parties, angst, frat!folio/frat!miserable bryan, inaccurate depictions of college experiences lmao, slight panic attack/ [nonsexual] overstimulation, frat hazing, drowning? but it’s kinda funny, confused jealous sad nicholas, awkward noah trying to rizz, folio has a silly nickname, crying, fighting, lots of internal dialogue, etc, 18+ MDNI

reminder; this is AU, nothing is meant to be accurate or realistic, including family members/names

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

NICHOLAS

In the bathroom across the hall, Noah messes with the pieces of his flippy hair that poke out and around his beanie.

In my room, I switch out the jewelry in my gauged ears and smooth out the short-sleeve button up shirt I chose.

The air between us had been somewhat distant and weird for the past 2 weeks since our… mutual activities. Though, I could tell that he was ready to go back to normal, which I do too.

It must just be harder for me to get past it, I guess.

We aren’t even out the door yet and I already regret agreeing to this stupid ass frat party.

He steps into the doorway and leans against the frame. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I just gotta brush my hair and then we can go.” I say, still turned away from him.

“Cool…” He trails off, “I’m just gonna chill in the living room.” He thumbs over his shoulder.

“Okay. Sounds good.” I reply instantly, almost before he’s even done talking.

Once I’ve quickly brushed through my shoulder length hair, I grab my keys from the wooden hooks near the front door. “Alright I’m ready to–”

My eyes land on Noah, who’s wearing a black sleeveless muscle tee-like shirt and tight jeans. I’ve seen him in similar outfits a million times before but for some reason right now he looks so different.

“You good?” He chuckles and shoves his phone in his back pocket.

I shake my head from whatever fog is lingering there. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I must’ve just dissociated there for a sec.” Followed with a fake laugh.

When we pull up to the frat house, it’s packed with cars practically stacked on top of each other. Thankfully I find a spot not too far and claim it as my own.

As Noah and I walk up, I’m in absolute awe. I’ve only driven past this house; I’ve never been this close to it. It’s one of the various neighboring fraternities and sororities that border a huge lake. I can see the lake peeking out from behind the house and it makes me wonder what it’s like during the warmer months. A rush of cold fall wind reminds me that summer break is actually over. I stuff my hands into my jeans and continue towards the entrance.

The house itself is beautiful, it’s massive, white with columns and giant black Greek letters just below the roof. Colorful lights flash through the windows and follow the beat of thumping house music. People pour in and out of the front door and from around the backyard.

Everything about it screams college. It’s exactly what Noah wanted. It’s exactly what Folio wanted. But I hate it already and we haven’t even stepped foot in there.

We step up to the front door that’s being guarded by two muscular men who look like if they flicked us, we’d fall over. They very dramatically step together blocking the entrance. “Who invited you?” They ask sternly.

My heart rate immediately spikes from the interaction. I grab the hem of Noah’s shirt discreetly and tug at it to pull him away, but he surprises me.

“Folio.” He speaks up with the most obvious forced confidence and straightens out his back, pushing his chest out a bit.

Their serious faces break into hearty laughs. The one on the left leans back to see past the right one, “Trout! Your invites are here!”

Noah and I look at each other with stitched mouths not wanting to burst out laughing at Folio’s new nickname. Fishing is about 75% of what comes out of his mouth, it’s no surprise his new roommates have already heard all about it. The other 25% is dedicated to girls, weed, drums, and bikes, naturally. I am sure he’s stoked about the lake that’s quite literally in his backyard for him to fish from any time he wants.

Nick rips through the crowd and he looks… well just like a freshman in a fraternity. He’s wearing some ridiculous helmet with beer cans attached to the sides and a tube to drink from. His tank top is neon green plastered with frat symbols across his chest. The smile on his face is the biggest I’ve ever seen it, even bigger than when he somehow managed to get a 73% on his final where he blindly guessed on every question.

“Yesss! My bros!” He yells excitedly and pummels us in a giant hug. It’s only then that I realize he’s completely soaked in sticky beer.

“Ew, Folio.” I scrunch my face in disgust and peel myself away from him.

Noah just laughs, even though I know the beer on his clean clothes is driving him mad.

“Oh, don’t be a downer Ruffilo.” His words already strung together gives away how drunk he already is.

I pull my phone from my back pocket to check the time. “Nick it’s only 9, how much have you drank already?” I ask loudly over the music.

“It’s part of the like,” He lets out a slurred burp, “The initiation, or whatever. Freshmen have to drink a certain amount. And… I did.”  He drunkenly chuckles. Folio never drank much before this and if he did, he was always a lightweight. If he really did drink that much, it’s a miracle he’s even talking somewhat coherently right now.

“Well you really should’ve paced yourself–“ I begin but he cuts me off.

He rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known you’d be like this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My brows furrow defensively.

“I would’ve had Noah leave you at home if I knew you’d be like this.”

I know he’s joking but it doesn’t make the tightness in my chest any less.

“C’mon Nicholas,” Noah grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Loosen up!”

I hate everything about this. It’s so confusing to see Noah this way, he was never like this before. Parties were his worst nightmare – until now apparently.

“Yeah, you guys need to catch up to me! Maybe you’ll have more fun!” Folio gestures for us to follow him to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, there’s a couple frat guys playing bartender, one I recognize to be Bryan, Folio’s mentor.

“Bryan!” Nick runs up to him like a child asking for a toy. “My friends are here and they wanna get just as drunk as meee.”

The dark under eye bags on Bryan are borderline comical. The look in his eyes reminds me of the look that middle aged underpaid cashiers give you when you ask if you can use a coupon. He says nothing and mixes up a concoction that looks like battery acid.

“Here.” He slides two radioactive drinks towards us over a marble countertop. “That should get you pretty fucked up quick.” Then goes off taking orders from other people.

I dip close to Folio’s side, “Why does it look like he works here?”

“The sophomores have to ‘work the party’.” Nick hiccups, “So they stationed him there.”

“Oh.” Noah and I mouth in unison.

“It’s part of the initiation.” He repeats proudly, as if being indoctrinated into some sort of academic cult is something to be so proud of.

I take the time to actually look over the party – it’s packed to the brim. There’s every single kind of college student you could think of, even kids that seem “nerdier” than me and Noah.

Rockstar by Post Malone began blasting through the speakers and a grin instantly spreads over my mouth. A couple summers ago Rockstar was me and Noah’s song, we would blare it on repeat in my shitty car almost every day. We played it so much we got sick of it, and this was the first time I’ve heard it since then. I turn excitedly to Noah but find that he’s gone. I look around where I’m standing, suddenly feeling exposed. Everyone surrounding me is preoccupied one way or another, including Folio which I’ve just realized disappeared too.

Directly in front of me stands the only other person I even marginally know at this party.

I lean across the counter and tap at Bryan’s tattooed forearm. He looks at me and it’s different than he does when I’m with Folio. Thankfully, it’s a lot kinder.

“What’s up?” He asks over the music, leaning closer to me with his ear first.

“Did you see where Noah went?” I nearly shout at him.

He nods over to the couch across the room where Noah is sat talking to a group of what looks like sorority girls – no worse, wannabe sorority girls.

“Trout introduced them.”

What a comically horrible nickname.

My lips fall to a frown, and it feels like my heart has dropped into my stomach. I watch as one bottle blonde traces her fingertips over a tattoo on his arm that I did –  the first tattoo I’ve ever done on somebody else and the first tattoo he ever got. For some reason, the sight of it makes me feel sick, like I could throw up right where I stand.

When my gaze finally reaches back to Bryan, he’s ready to tell me the answer to a question I haven’t asked.

“I don’t know where Folio went.”

“Great.” I nod and push away from the counter. “Just…great.”  

I figured that we’d come here for a bit for Nick then leave. I didn’t expect us to actually interact – which seems naïve to think about now. Noah practically begged me to come with him to this incredibly obnoxious party, of course he’d wanna stay and participate.

I deflate, grab my cup of toxic chemicals and reluctantly walk over to Noah. I nudge his arm and when he turns, he looks surprised to see me, like he forgot I was here.

“Oh, hey I was just about to find you.” He slurs and throws an arm over my shoulders. “This is Kassidy.” He gestures to the small blonde girl he’s been talking to then gestures to another very similar looking girl. “And this,” He gives me a discreet extra nudge. “is Brooke.”

The girls give me over enthusiastic smiles and I give them a half-wave because that’s all I have left to offer. “Hey.”

“Whatever Bryan made us, is fuckin’ workin’.” He knocks back the rest of his drink. “Do you mind asking him for another for me?”

My brows raise involuntarily at his demand like I’m some butler.

“Here take mine.” I grumble and drop my full solo cup into his empty one.

“You didn’t like it?” He doesn’t wait to already take a sip.

“No.”

“I’m sure they have beer or something else-“

“I’m good. I have to drive your ass home anyway.” I snap and walk past him through the path between the couch and the coffee table. I plop right next to Brooke because I know that’s what Noah was trying to orchestrate, and where else would I go.

Brooke is blonde with what I assume are hair extensions poorly placed over her scalp. Her lips are overly full, like she drew around her lips with a lead pencil. Her exposed cleavage from a lowcut crop top would normally entice me, if she wasn’t so…her.

She tried talking to me, but I must’ve been too boring since she just hung onto every word Noah said instead. When Kassidy and Noah started making out was when she finally left and went to find new prey.

I’m stuck on the opposite side of the couch watching my best friend get his face eaten off by someone who doesn’t even know how to brush her hair properly. It’s been about an hour and a half since we got here, and it’s the exact opposite of “fun”. Maybe it’s because I’m not drinking that I don’t understand the appeal.

Noah or not, I’d rather be home playing Pokémon or Call of Duty or literally anything other than this. Between the blaring music and the belligerent people, the thumping in my chest returns. I run my hands up and down my thighs slowly in an attempt to calm down but the faster my heart races the quicker my hands go. The air seems to be thinning around me and the crowded people feel closer than before. But then when I look over and see Noah kissing Kassidy, I’m suddenly furious.

I’m not sure why I’m furious, maybe it’s because he dragged me here, or because he ditched me after dragging me here, or because both of my supposed best friends ditched me after dragging me to a place I didn’t want to be to begin with.

It’s anger and anger alone that forces me from my seat and quickly past by Noah, knocking his shoulder back abruptly. It’s clear that he doesn’t even fucking care that I’m here or that I’m miserable.

I brush past various sweaty party goers, hitting each shoulder on my way.

“Nick!” I hear a drunken Noah calling after me. He’s gaining on me quickly as his thin body easily passes through the crowd.

“I’m going home Noah.” I yell over my shoulder as I stomp through the crowd.

“What! Why!”

“Because I want to go fucking home.” I turn a corner I think might be an exit, but it turns out to just be another hallway in this massive fucking house.

“C’mooon Nicholaaas.” Noah drags out the words in the most annoying whine. The alcohol is blatantly tinging each word.

“I’m not talking to you when you’re like this.” I shout back harshly through gritted teeth.

I push on a door that I thought was a bathroom just to get away from him, but I stumble into what looks like a movie room. The room is dark with just a flat screen on the wall playing some random Netflix movie and a large couch.

Of course, only in a frat house would they have a dedicated Netflix and Chill room.

Noah staggers in behind me and takes in the room just as I do. He pushes past me, slams the door shut and locks it.

He crosses his arms, “Now you can’t leave.”

I sigh, extremely irritated. “Oh, I’m leaving.” I go to move past him to get to the door, but he steps over and blocks me.

My heart is racing so fast it’s really all I can think about. Everything is too much for me; the earsplitting music, my fuming anger, Noah, how dark the room is, the heavy brick sitting on my chest, how warm the house is, the fucking stupid movie on the tv, all of it is making me lose my fucking mind. My skin’s crawling just being here, everything in me just wants to book it out the front door. I can barely fucking breathe.

All I want to do is leave.

I need to fucking leave.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks and his tone has a hint of sadness that suddenly makes me feel guilty for wanting to leave.

“Because I’m not having a good fucking time Noah. I want to go home. One of these girly bitches you’re talking to can take you home. Or you can get an Uber, I really don’t care. But I. am. leaving.” I say sternly to his face, my hands fisted at my sides.

Confusion washes over him, as if he hadn’t realized I wasn’t enjoying myself until just now. The confusion only angers me more because if he had even paid a single ounce of attention, he would’ve known I wasn’t having a good time.

He always knows when I’m not having a good time. I don’t know how he knows but usually I can just look at him and he’d just know.

Until now, apparently.

“Oh.” The edges of his mouth wilt downwards. “I just figured you’d hit it off with whats-her-name and…”

“Well, I didn’t. And I want to get the fuck out of here.” I cross my arms over my chest, using my heel to scuff at my opposite shoe.

Noah’s eyes divert to any place other than me in the room and shift back and forth on the balls of his feet. His fingertips fidget with his knuckles as the silence between us grows louder than the music outside.

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

The words feel just like a dagger straight through my chest, piercing my lungs and deflating me completely. I literally just told him I was leaving without him but for some reason hearing him say it aloud is more painful.

“Okay…” I can’t help the way my eyes drop to the ground. “Well, you can stay here then, I guess.”

“I mean if that’s-” Noah stops mid-sentence to pause and tilt his ear to the party noises behind the door. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah, it’s just party shit.” I wave him off quickly so I can get out sooner.

His brows scrunch up trying to focus harder, “No, No, listen.”

It takes a bit but then I hear it too. “It sounds like chanting? What are they chanting?”

Noah leans towards the door and carefully cracks the door just a smidge in order to hear the crowd better.

“Are they chanting…”

“Trout.” We say in unison and look at each other with widening eyes.

It’s not unlike Folio to get into some sort of competition but this just doesn’t sound right.

“What the fuck?” I crack the door open further and watch as the entirety of the party makes its way through the back door.

We make it out of the room and follow the crowd into the backyard. Noah notices it before I do and grabs my arm, his eyes round and glued on the crowd.

“Oh no.”

“What? I don’t see-” Then I do. “Oh no.”

An extremely drunk Folio being carried over to the lake, frigid in the autumn cold.

“Well, I mean, it’s just a lake, right? It’s probably just part of the initiation shit.” I speculate, annoyed that I have to babysit not one but two of my friends at this party.

“No, no, you don’t understand, we have to stop them.” Noah says urgently. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the dock.

“Stop! Stop!” He yells though his voice isn’t strong enough to reach.

“Wait why!” I call after him, his longer legs crossing the vast backyard faster than I can keep up. My feet crunch various red solo cups that just thrown across the grass. “It’s just water, he’ll be fine.”

“Stop!” He halts where the lake meets the land, and his eyes don’t leave Folio for one second.

 “No, no, no.” He mutters between us.

I’m so out of breath I can’t even ask any further questions and double over just to breathe holding onto my knees. When I finally catch my breath and look back up to Noah, he’s shedding his clothes. He yanks off each of his Vans, tossing them into the grass.

“Hey whoa! What are you doing? You can’t go in there!” I stand there useless with the vague feeling of needing to copy his actions. “What’s wrong Noah, can you fucking talk to me?”

“He doesn’t know how to swim Nicholas! We have to get him.” His skinny jeans are already halfway off of him.

“What! What the fuck do you mean he can’t swim?” I hastily slip off my own shoes and begin unbuttoning my shirt. “All he fucking talks about is fishing. What kind of fisherman doesn’t know how to swim!”

“I don’t know, he’s a fucking idiot!” He’s at the edge, waving his arms and whistling but the roar of the crowd drowns him out “But he’s definitely not gonna be able to swim with how drunk he is. Hurry up!”

“I’m fucking going as fast as I can!”

I regret everything about this night.

I’m never going to another party ever again.

As if in slow motion Folio gets thrown in the water with the dock full of people calling out his stupid fucking nickname. Knowing him, he probably had no idea what was going on until he was midair. He lands into the cold water and the party carelessly makes its way back to the house.

We try getting their attention but they’re all so fucked up that not a single one listens. It’s completely still where he was dropped before a struggle erupts with flailing arms and splashing.

“I’m going.” Noah states urgently, regardless of how quickly I can get these tight pants off my legs. He runs in then jumps into full strokes towards Nick.

Once I’m down to my underwear, I follow Noah. I brace myself for the water and it’s even worse than expected. I hiss at the cold but hurriedly begin swimming after Noah. The water is green and murky and all I feel are long, slimy tendrils of seaweed tangling around my legs. I struggle to make it through without getting lake water in my mouth or my eyes but it's pointless.

Noah finally reaches Folio and even from the far distance I’m at, it doesn’t look good. Nick is heavier and stockier than Noah, and Noah can barely lift a gallon of milk. I’m not quite sure what he was thinking, maybe he was relying on some crazy adrenaline strength.

Noah’s got him but he’s a heavy, thrashing, coughing weight in his arms.

“God fucking damnit.” I mutter and push myself to swim even faster. “Is he good?” I yell from yards away.

“No! I need your help, Nicholas!” Noah’s voice is slurred, strained and breathless. That’s when I realize that I’m supposed to be the sober backbone of this operation.

When I reach them, Noah is just barely keeping Folio’s head above water. I assess the surroundings and decide getting him up on the dock would be the quickest option.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” I say, manhandling Folio from Noah. “You’re gonna get up on the dock and I’m gonna try to lift him up to you and then you can pull him up. Got it?”

“Got it.” He nods and swims over the ladder, climbs up and kneels at the edge. “Okay, ready.”

With every bit of strength in my body, I swim both of us over and lift Folio up towards Noah. He hooks his arms under his armpits and by some miracle gets him up on the dock.

I cling to the metal ladder letting myself take a breath for a brief second. When I finally get up to the platform, Folio is on his side violently coughing, desperately trying to get out any water.

Once his hacking calmed down, he wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand and squints at us. “What the fuck happened?”

“You were drowning dumbass.” I snap with an eye roll crossing my cold, wet arms over my freezing chest. “Your ‘frat bros’ threw you into the lake.”

I’m suddenly very aware that I’m nearly naked on this dock and while it’s just the two of them, I still feel extremely exposed. I’m not fond of even having my shirt off on a beach day, nonetheless a dip in a frigid lake with a whole house full of strangers just a couple of feet away.

Noah rests back on his folded legs and places his hands on his boney knees.

“Are you okay?” His voice is light, soft, and airy. “We were really worried about you.”

Noah is gentle with Folio even though we just dove into freezing water for him. He’s kind and concerned and it’s the Noah I’m used to. Seeing him this way again swirls a flutter in my chest. I can’t tell if that’s happened before or if it’s new. Maybe it’s something that’s always happened, and I just hadn’t noticed until now? It feels both comforting and extremely daunting.

Maybe it’s just my body trying to heat itself up.

Folio continues to hack several dry coughs but ultimately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I think.”

I can tell he’s still wasted and frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t just throw up Bryan’s mystery concoction when he was coughing up water.

“Okay can we go put our clothes back on now? I’m fucking freezing.” My teeth chatter as a cold gust of wind washes over my body.

We quickly ran over to the shore to put our mostly dry clothes back on, then came back to Folio on the dock. Noah got him to his feet and had him hold onto our shoulders so we could steady him back inside.

The party hollers as we make our way through with a cold and shivering Nick. It strikes an anger right through my spine. It’s a rage I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my life but it’s spreading through me like a bad infection.

I’m in a room of people ridiculing my friend who just almost drowned.

The same people who almost caused it.

And he still wants to be here.

These are the people he wants to be with.

These are the people Noah wanted so badly to come here for.

Folio guides us up the rounded staircase to his room. Since the house is so big and the frat is so exclusive, each member gets their own room. So, luckily for him, nobody else has to see this.

I drop his arm abruptly once inside but he’s too drunk to even notice. He sloppily rustles through his drawers to find clothes to take for a lake-cleansing shower.

“Well, if you’re going to take 5 million years to find a shirt, I’m just gonna dip.” I say more aggressively than intended.

Or maybe it was intended.

They both look at me with confused, furrowed brows.

“Whoa,” Nick slurs, “What fucking crawled up your ass?”

“Fucking nothing, I just want to fucking leave. I’ve been trying to fucking leave for the past hour.”

Noah looks more confused than him, if I wasn’t so angry, I’d even call it concerned.

“You weren’t having fun?”

“Oh my god, I already fucking told you I wasn’t having fun. If you had just been a half-decent friend for two seconds tonight, you might’ve seen that I was not having fun at all.”

My patience had long left me.

“Oh so, I’m a bad friend now?” Noah raises a brow and takes an offended step back.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips, “I just don’t understand why you both want to be here with these people.” I point in the direction of the party. “Those are who did that to you Folio. And you still wanna party with them?”

Nick looks at me like I have two heads.

“Yes? I’m part of this fraternity Ruffilo. This is like… my purpose or whatever.” He says, stringing along his words like they have long pauses between.

My eyes couldn’t roll hard enough. That was quite possibly the most frat-boy thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe this is the right place for him.

“Your ‘purpose’? Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?”

“They weren’t all bad…” Noah trails off while he scratches his arm, and his eyes fall to the ground.

“Oh who? Those whores you were talking to?”

A quiet hush falls across the dimly lit room and Noah’s face looks distraught, his eyes fluttering back down to the carpeted floor.

“What is your fucking problem, Nick?” Folio breaks the silence. He’s still shivering, dripping water everywhere, and holding a pile of sweats to change into after his shower.

“If you didn’t wanna fucking be here, you shouldn’t have come.” He pushes past both of us and exits the room.

Noah’s brown eyes land back on me once we’re alone. There’s a sadness to them that I can’t decipher.  

“Well, this is what you wanted isn’t it?” I question facetiously and spread my arms out grandiosely. “This big college experience?”

He blinks at me blankly. “Why are you being like this Nicholas?” He asks softly and it twists some invisible knife in my gut.

“Being like what? You dragged me here!” I drop my arms harshly back to my sides.

“Yeah, I thought you’d have fun.” He scratches his arm anxiously.

“What’s fun about sitting around watching you hook up with dumb sorority bitches?”

The words surprise me the minute they leave my mouth. I don’t even know exactly what they’re supposed to mean and I sure as hell don’t want to unpack it right now.

His brows curve up where they start and knit together. He notices the odd verbiage too.

Fuck.

“Is this because we-“ He begins but my accelerating heart rate can’t bear to even entertain what was about to come out of his mouth. Nor can I bear to hear it.

I can’t hear him say what we did together that morning those weeks ago. I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was just a dream - even though my mind hasn’t been able to let me forget it, nor has it stopped me from wishing it would happen again.

But I can’t hear him say it. That would make it real. And I so desperately want it to not be real.

“You know what?” I suck my teeth. “I’m done. I’m fucking over this. I’m actually leaving now.” I march over to the open doorframe and turn back to him once more.

His hand moves up and down his arm repeatedly as if he’s trying to self-soothe.

“Okay.” He replies quietly and finally looks up at me from where his eyes were locked on the floor. “I guess um. I guess I’m gonna stay and make sure Folio is all right.” He thumbs over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “I doubt anyone’s sober to drive so, I’ll just stay here tonight.”

It feels as though my ribs caved in on my chest; sharp boney splinters piercing the organs they house.

I guess a part of me wanted him to beg me to stay.

But he didn’t.

“Okay.” I nod and head out of the horrendous frat house.

I fight the lump in my throat and the burning in my eyes all the way down the grandiose stairs, through the bustling crowd, down the front steps, over the green lawn, through all the parked cars, until the door slams behind me in my own car. All at once it hits me and the tears unleash. I cross my arms over my steering wheel pressing my crying eyes against them, heaving my sobs against them.

“Fuck!” I scream within the small confines of my car.

I’m crying and frustrated and angry all at the same time. I don’t even really know what I’m upset about. All I know is that my chest aches in a way it never has before, which frustrates me even more. The feeling reminds me of when you’ve been doing math for an hour but no matter how many times you try, you just don’t fucking understand it.

I just didn’t want to party, why am I fucking crying?

Why do I fucking care if my friends are staying and I’m going home?

I try to calm down before leaving but the tears keep pouring out of me. Everything’s blurry on the drive home and I’m grateful I didn’t take a sip of alcohol.

When I arrive home, the house is quiet. Every light is flipped off and there’s not even water droplet of noise. My mom is at her night shift at the hospital and my sister, Stella, is at a sleepover. Whenever I feel like this, I always go sit on one of their beds and talk to them. They always make me feel better even when there’s not much to say. Even though Stella is younger than me, she somehow always knows what to say. In a lot of ways, she’s smarter than I ever will be.

I don’t bother turning on a light and shuffle off my shoes at the door. I circle to the kitchen. When I open the fridge for a water, the light burns my already raw eyes. I take the cold bottle and press it on my under-eye bags then practically slam the fridge door closed. The cold plastic helps soothe some of the swelling.

I scuffle across the hall to my room and the minute the door clicks in place behind me, I let out a deep sigh. I feel water threatening to prickle into my eyes again, but my head is pounding and I’m so fucking sick of crying. I shed all my clothes since they faintly smell like lake and alcohol, and even though I should shower to wash off nasty lake residue, I just can’t walk out the door again. My chest aches too much for me to leave this room.

So, I slip on new boxers and a random Star Wars shirt and get into bed. I slip in from the right side and it immediately feels wrong.

And it sinks in.

My bed is not my own anymore.

It is half mine.

Half Noah’s.

I scooch back onto the left and try to sleep but I toss and turn for an hour and a half. My mind is racing, and it is only filled with Noah. Stuff that shouldn’t even matter.

Is he okay?

Is he still drinking?

Where is he sleeping?

Is he with her?

Does he wish I stayed?

Does he regret not leaving with me?

Does he want to come home?

Is he going to try to get a ride home? Would it be safe?

Did I overreact?

I should’ve stayed to help Folio sober up.

I should’ve just gotten drunk.

Maybe I could’ve had fun if I drank.

I wouldn’t be so upset if I had just drank, right?

I’m only upset because I wasn’t having a good time, right?

Maybe my two best friends wouldn’t fucking hate me right now if I just pretended to have fun.

Is this just what it is now?

Am I going to get dragged to a party every weekend and have to pretend to enjoy it?

Will I lose them if I don’t?

I flip on my side, facing the door and my back to the window. Between me and the door there’s the vast emptiness of Noah’s spot.

The bed feels so… empty without him in it.

I tug the comforter close around me as I’m suddenly aware of the low temperature in the room.

I hadn’t realized just how accustomed I’ve gotten to him being here in the short amount of time been moved in.

It’s nice having someone take up space next to me in bed.

It’s nice having warmth where there used to be none.

It’s nice laughing until my stomach hurts before bed every night.

It’s nice having someone to shut off the lamp when I’m already half asleep.

It’s nice not being alone.

I like not being alone.

I like not being alone with him.

And I don’t know what to do with that feeling.

Next Chapter -> 04 - Snapped Neck

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

a/n; Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks, they really validate and fuel me lol. Even though I'm not the best at replying 😅 but i am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

I hope you guys like this one, please lmk if you do💘

#noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #noah x nick #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #intertwined series #concreteburialplot works #nicholas ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian rpf

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 08

08 - Play Along

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc / nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

word count: 5.3k

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

warnings; irritating moody noah lol, angry/jealous nicholas, alcohol, noah teaching how to play pool, creepy guy at bar, implied past SA experiences, physical fight, blood, love triangle a brewin', 18+ ONLY MDNI

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

Noah somehow convinced me to drive us to a bar down the street from the warehouse where we were brainstorming with Bryan.

“So, remind me why you couldn’t have just driven here yourself?” I asked, looking over at him in the passenger seat of my rental car.

“I don’t have a car.” He replies flatly.

“You’re a world famous rockstar, and you don’t have a car?”

I hadn’t notice just how tattooed his hands are until I catch them moving up and down his thighs. The small action reminds me of ways I soothe my anxiety, especially in stressful work meetings.

“Not ‘world famous’, nobody even knew who we were til last month.” He’s quick to correct me and his grumpy tone makes it transparent that he’s still annoyed about getting kicked out by Bryan.

“Right.” I reply shortly.

I pull up to the small seedy bar Noah directed me to. It’s nestled within a larger strip of restaurants and shops. The random tiny city we’re in is not nearly as busy as LA and the buildings are all rustic and brick.

I’m not even parked a whole minute before Noah has already slammed his door behind him and headed towards the front door. At this point I should just expect to have to babysit every single grown man in this fucking band.

When I walk into the establishment, I’m smacked in the face by thick cigarette smoke and my face twists in disgust. It’s packed for 2pm on a Tuesday and almost every single patron is accompanied by a lit cigarette. I spot Noah at the bar already, just receiving his first full beer.

“A cosmopolitan please.” The words can’t come out fast enough, I need alcohol more than air itself right now. The bartender nods and starts curating my order.

Noah scoffs, “A cosmopolitan really? Could you get any more pretentious?”

“Oh my god.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Could you just shut up for literally like 5 minutes?” Right on cue the bartender places down a stemless martini glass with transparent red liquid. “At least it’s better that some basic ass beer.” I take a long sip of my ice-cold drink and alleviation begins the moment the alcohol meets my tongue.

He finishes the last of his beer and lands it hard on the wooden tabletop. “Fine. Whiskey and Coke please.”

“What is your deal huh, why are we here? What exactly are we doing?” I ask the obvious, finishing my own drink already and gesturing to the bartender for another.

He lifts his new glass, “You’re looking at it, Thornhill.”

My brows immediately scrunch together, “How do you know my last name?”

“You think you’re the only one who does their homework?” He asks ironically. “You do work with us after all.”

Both of our new drinks are halfway gone already with replacements on the way. Getting plastered midday on a Tuesday with my most infuriating client in some hole in the wall California bar was not on my bingo card for the week. But these boys keep surprising me, it’s almost refreshing. Almost.

Noah is quick to get started on the fresh drink in front of him, maybe too fast. The glass hadn’t even hit the table before it was half gone.

The numbing already growing in my fingers reminds me that all I had for breakfast was a green juice. Noah’s eyes travel over the bar and land on something across the room then back on me. His eyes are mischievous and playful, “You know how to play pool?” His lips spread into a competitive smirk.

I raise my brows at him. The man that was just 30 minutes ago arguing with me about music video lighting now wants to play pool?

“You want to play pool… right now?”

He laughs, which makes me realize I’d never heard him laugh. It’s nice. If I wasn’t already so exhausted by his bullshit already, it might’ve even made me smile.

“So, you don’t know how to play is what you’re telling me.” He slips off the stool and grabs my arm dragging me off my own.

“Hey, hey!” I smack his hand off my burgundy blazer, “This is designer, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get your bourbon-y fingers all over it.”

His eyes roll so hard I think they might fall out. “Oh, so sorry princess.” He raised his hands up in defense. “Wouldn’t want to get your Prada dirty.”

While derogatory, the nickname makes my cheeks heat up but I’m not quite sure why. “It’s YSL actually.” I correct him, not that it matters but I guess when you pay almost $4000 for a jacket, it seems like it matters.

“See? Pretentious.” He points at me before going over to the table to set up the game.

I brought our drinks and my bag over to a wooden chair just behind the tables so I could keep a close eye on them. I decide that between the weak airflow in the bar and the sticky surfaces that it would be best to shed the jacket. I slip it off my arms and immediately remember that the blazer was essential to the look, since I only have a black lace corset underneath. But with the 4? 5? drinks I’ve had, I don’t care right now.

“Okay so since you don’t know how to-” Noah turns to look at me and seems to forget his words, he just blinks at me with a deer-in-headlights look.

I step closer to him, “Ya know, it’s not polite to stare.” I say in a hushed tone and poke his pointy nose. Whether or not he is actually looking at me like that, doesn’t matter, my confidence is boosted regardless. Surviving in an industry like the one we’re means walking a fine line between power and control. Men are easy to control when you know how to use assets correctly. And right now, he’s looking at the assets on my lace-covered chest.

“What were you saying again?” I ask, putting my weight on my palms at the edge of the table and leaning forward.

He clears his throat and diverts his eyes away from my cleavage. He directs me to a triangle filled with variously colored balls, some solid, some striped and all with numbers on them. “So basically, you want to get all your designated balls into the holes.” He hands me a long stick, “This is a cue, this is what you’ll use.”

“Got it.”

He perks up a brow above an eye, “You’ve really never played before?”

“Nope.” I take a sip of my potent drink without breaking eye contact with him. “Never thought I’d like it. I’ve watched exes play though. Seemed lame.” I say, sounding more apathetic than I actually am.

“Alright well,” He tugs at the hem of his long band shirt, “You might like it.” He knocks back the last of his drink and holds out a hand to me, “You want a refill?”

I drink the last bit of my own, letting the ice slide down the glass and sit on my numbing lips for just a second before handing it to him. “Please, thank you.”

The minute he leaves me, I become very aware that I’m the only female in the dark bar and every set of eyes is on me. I cross my arms over my chest and retract into myself.

Not long after Noah returns, we start playing. He explained how he “broke” the triangle and he ended up being solids which meant that I’m stripes. After a very bad attempt at hitting a ball, he decided I wasn’t doing well.

“No, no, no.” He waves me off before my stick touches the white cue ball. “Here, I can help.” He rounds the table and stands behind me. I obviously knew he was taller than me, but it isn’t until just now that I realize just how much taller he is than me – the top of my head barely meets his shoulders. And the boots I’m wearing have heels, making me even taller than normal. His sizeable hand runs down my spine and hooks it around my hip to readjust my position. His other arm goes to help adjust my arm that’s holding the stick. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, but my skin is burning anywhere he’s touching me and the way his hand engulfs my hip completely sends a buzzing between my legs. His fingertips are mere centimeters away from my core and I am extremely aware of it.

“See, not so bad.” He smiles, pulling away from me and it’s only then that I notice he actually helped me hit the ball.

My eyes linger on him longer than they should’ve. It must be this dim bar lighting and the copious alcohol I’ve had that is making see him through a new filter. His smile meets his eyes and he’s just so…bright. His chocolate eyes are so welcoming and kind, a stark contrast to how harsh and cold they are normally. He’s so much more attractive when he’s not scowling at everything I say.

“What?” He wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

“No, no.” I shake the thoughts from my head. “I just don’t think I’ve ever really seen you smile.” I blurt out stupidly. “It’s pretty.”

He rolls his eyes walking over to the other edge, “Shut up.”

“What?” I ask walking over to where he’s lining up his cue to the ball. His tongue his tightly held in thought between his lips.

The cue ball clashes into a grouping and sends balls flying across the table, some landing in holes. “You’re still on your boyband bullshit.” His voice gained his usual attitude once again with a bit of drunken slur.

“What?” I shake my head, “No, no. I’m not talking about that.” I chase after him around the table. “I mean it.”

Though I should’ve taken the excuse he provided himself as to why I was even paying attention to his smile in the first place.

The long-haired boy holds his cue stick like staff looking at me with an unconvinced look. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Vallie.” He says in a deep gravelly voice that almost sounds like a threat.

My eyes widen slightly when I look up at him. “I meant it.” I repeat softly, this time with a somewhat intimidated undertone.

He eyes me beneath a skeptical propped brow like I just told him something completely out of the realm of possibility. “Let’s just get back to playing.” He grumbles and walks over to finish off drink.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Similar to Nicholas, Noah also has a sort of whiplash duality, just different. I see tiny peeks of a sunshine-y Noah hidden beneath his grouchy storm-cloud persona. It makes me wonder what it would take to see more of the Noah that was just joking and smiling with me.

After another round or two and various refills later, I’m winning. Again.

“How are you winning when you just learned how to play?” Noah asks, pushing himself off the pool table. “Are you conning me or something?” His voice now has a thick, noticeable slur to it, but I don’t think much of it.

I giggle, “No. I just like to win.”

He scoffs playfully and grabs his own glass with my empty one. “You sure you don’t want another?”

I bite down on my thumbnail thinking, but ultimately refuse. “Nah I’m good for now.” I’ve hit the fine line of if I have another, I could get sloppy. Sloppy mixed with what I felt earlier with his hand on my hip could get me in trouble.

He nods and heads to the bar. I pull my phone from where I tucked it in the waistband of skirt and rest against the table as I scroll through emails I’d missed. Suddenly, I feel a presence that definitely isn’t Noah’s. It’s larger, meaner, and darker.

“That your boyfriend with you darlin?” Speaks a low southern accent. His words seem harmless, but I can tell by his tone that he’s not.

My eyes rise to meet him, he towers over me about as tall as Noah maybe an inch or two more. He might be as tall as Noah, but he’s about double his size, wide and muscular. His face is angular and sharp, adorned with middle-aged wrinkles. My gaze glances down to notice that he’s holding two drinks, one that looks like the one I’ve been drinking all day.

I keep an arm around my waist, my phone open facing me and prop a brow at him. “Maybe. What’s it to you?” I neither confirm nor deny out of caution.

“Well, I was thinkin’ you could have a drink with me.” He holds out the similar-looking drink. “The bartender told me you’ve been drinking cosmopolitans.”

I analyze the martini glass within a quarter of a second – the red liquid is dull, murky and the ice is bobbing at the bottom. I’ve lived alone in big cities long enough to know not to take drinks from strange men, especially when they look suspicious. I’ve dated enough men to know what this familiar uneasy feeling in my stomach means. My thumb maneuvers slowly and discreetly to my camera app and hit record. I would send my location to someone, if I had someone to send it to.

I smile politely, “I’m okay but thank you.”

As I predicted his energy shifts and he steps towards me, “Oh c’mon pretty girl, it’s not very nice to refuse a free drink.”

The fear coiling around my spine forces me to fake a laugh, “I’ve really had enough, but thank you.”

He steps even closer backing me into the pool table, the curved wooden corner digs into my lower back. The bar is so busy that nobody is taking notice of what he’s doing.

“I don’t think you heard me, it’s not nice to refuse a free drink.” He says lowly within the small space between us. “We could just play a round of pool and have a good time.”

The walls begin to cave in on me and air is vacating my lungs. I’m paralyzed, panicking and my heart is racing so fast I fear it may tear through my ribcage.

From the moment he was just near me I knew, I just knew.

I always know.

“I’m just not interested, I’m sorry.” The words slip from me quickly and I brace for verbal impact.

He bridges the little gap that’s left between us and sets each drink at each side of my hips, caging me in with my arms wrapped around my body and my phone still recording. “You think you’re better off with that toothpick of a date you have?” He hisses.

Right on cue Noah returns, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I must’ve really been working off survival muscle memory because I had completely forgotten Noah was with me until just now.

The mystery man pulls back from me with the biggest bullshit smile on his harsh face. “Oh, I was just offerin’ your friend here a drink.” He raises the drink to him.

I chuckle nervously and wave him away, “It’s alright Noah, it’s fine, he was just being nice.” I scratch my arm anxiously. I want the interaction to be over and I’m not expecting Noah to defend me, he barely likes me as a person.

“No Vallie, I saw him.” He sets down his beer and points a finger at him. “You were being fucking creepy.” His drunken voice is rising, and I’m scared that it’s only going to make the situation worse.

The man chuckles at Noah like he’s a puppy barking at mountain lion. “What is this your girlfriend or something?” He asks as though that it’s something he hadn’t already suspected.

Noah briefly glances at me then back at him, “Yes, as a matter a fact she is.” He states assertively but his poker face isn’t that good. I’m surprised that he’s even gone this far to defend me but I’m appreciative.

He laughs even harder, “Oh you really expect me to think a girly twig like you can pull a girl like her?”

Noah doesn’t skip a beat, “You think a meathead asshole like you could pull a woman like her?”

While Noah is scrawny compared to this traditionally “macho man”, I think that was the manliest thing I’ve ever seen a man do for me.

However, it is painfully clear how drunk Noah is by the way he chooses to get in this huge man’s face.

“You’d better fucking watch it, Toothpick.” He growls in his face, then breaks eye contact with Noah to look over at me. “This pathetic joke of a man is your boyfriend?”

Noah doesn’t waver, doesn’t back down with tight fists at his sides but I can’t take it anymore. I may not get along with him, but he doesn’t deserve to be insulted like this on my behalf.

“Yes.” I say confidently with a straightened back, even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Yes, actually, he is. And I’ll prove it.”

I instantly realize that I have no idea how exactly to prove it. So, I go with the first thing I think of within a split second.

I give Noah a brief look that says play along – though, I’m not sure he had enough time to understand the message because when I stand on my tippy toes, take his face in my hands, and land my lips into his, he freezes.

It feels like time freezes too as my eyes flutter closed and I melt into the kiss. Drunk in this shady bar, in this shitty scary situation, right now, it feels like it’s just me and Noah. In this moment, with our lips locked, the bar is quiet, everything is calm, and it feels really fucking good to win at pool. I can’t tell if the swirling in my tummy is from the panic or from something else entirely.

When I finally pull from him, my brows can’t help but furrow together in confusion. He looks back at me with a similar expression – though it’s hard to really decipher any real reactions in his glazed over eyes.

What the fuck was that?

The asshole is visibly over the charade. “What the fuck ever. Maybe next time you shouldn’t let your slut of a girlfriend leave the house looking like a whore.”

Before I even have time to process what he just said, Noah’s fist swings and crashes into Mystery Man’s face.

“Oh my god.” I gasp and bring a hand over to cover my mouth in shock.

It takes a second for the muscular man to react, his hand immediately going to his now bleeding nose. He doesn’t fully realize his condition until he holds out his fingers covered in blood.

His mean eyes then land on Noah like he’s a bullseye target. “You little fucking shit.” The man charges at him and in the blink of an eye, he’s on top of Noah on the ground just pummeling into his face.

“Noah!” I run over to him, not really knowing exactly what I could do.

Luckily, we’d already garnered the attention of the whole bar, so other similar sized patrons were able to pull the man off Noah before he had time to do worse damage. They drag him to the opposite corner of the bar and they fade into the background with my focus now being on Noah.

“Fuck Noah.” I mutter as I land on my knees near his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I stammer frantically looking around at what I could use to help him. The workers near us must’ve read my mind because they brought over a huge stack of napkins. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He says nothing and flutters his glossy eyes closed when I start to clean him up. He winces when I dab the blood gushing from his nose. “I’m sorry.” I repeat breathlessly, trying my hardest to keep a panic attack away. He flinches a bit when I try to gently wipe his busted lip. “Sorry.” I repeat again, because what else am I supposed to say to someone who just got beaten up because of me. I don’t dare go near his already swollen eye until I get access to some ice… or maybe some frozen peas.

“Should I call Nicholas? Or Jolly?” I ask meekly, folding the napkin within my hands.

Noah groans. “Nicholas.” He brings his hand to his forehead. “Don’t call Jolly. He’ll kill us.”

Us

There’s something about that word in that statement. I can’t explain it, but it seems so much bigger than just Noah and I.

Before he finishes his statement, I’ve already texted Nicholas. I’m surprised at how quickly he responded and even more surprised when he says that he’s not even 5 minutes away.

“Nicholas is here? He said he’s visiting a friend at a tattoo shop in this strip.”

“How convenient.” He grumbles sarcastically and uses his hand to cover his eyes.

When I return my gaze to him, I notice his bloody and bruising knuckles. “Oh my god your hand!” I gasp and take his hand in mine. I urgently steal the condensation off a nearby beer glass to wet a clean napkin and use it to delicately clean each knuckle. An overwhelming sense of guilt fills my chest, and another even worse feeling wraps itself around my throat with thorns. My heartbeat begins thumping so hard I can hear it in my ears and I’m trying my hardest to steady my now trembling hands.

He peeks an eye at me while keeping the other scrunched closed. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft with an inflection reminiscent of concern.

My eyes begin to burn the minute he acknowledges my panic and only makes everything worse. I focus intently on where the napkin is meeting his skin. “Mhm.” I know the moment I open my mouth to speak any semblance of emotional control would disappear. I discreetly attempt to stabilize my breathing so that it might tether me back to earth.

“Hey,” His brows knit together and lifts himself up onto his elbows. I never let go of his hand. His other hand finds my chin and gently redirects my gaze to him. “What’s wrong?”

My eyes fill with tears but immediately screw shut in a last-ditch effort to keep my composure. I rarely cry and even more seldom do I cry in front of others. And here am I, about to cry in front of the person I least want to.

The lump in my throat is painful and I try to swallow it down in an attempt to keep my tears at bay. “I’m fine, just let me keep cleaning you up.” My cracking voice gives away just how close I am to unraveling. A tear escapes me and I’m quick to wipe it off with the back of my hand.

He sternly but gently grasps my wrist to stop me from continuing. “I’m not letting you keep going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know… a panic attack maybe?” A couple more tears escape, and I swiftly wipe them away. “You don’t deserve this, this is all my fault.” My eyes fall back down to his bloody hand in my own. “You look like this, because of me.”

He sits up more, analyzing. I can feel him dissecting me – even though we’re both drunk, it feels like he can see right through me. “I think it’s more than that Val. What’s up?”

That’s the first time I’ve heard my name come out of his mouth without some sort of insult attached to it. It sounds nice. I wouldn’t mind hearing it that way again.

My breathing is slowing down marginally, and I choose to ignore that his touch might have something to do with it. Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with it, right?

I take a deep inhale in preparation to speak without crying. I hold his bruised hand carefully with both of mine. I keep my attention on my thumb that is grazing across the black ink on his fingers. “Um.” I press my lips together and take another breath through my nose. He gives me my time, doesn’t rush or interrupt. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I hear my own voice crack and it feels like I’m somehow betraying myself by crying. “But, it’s not the first time something like…that has happened.” I blink some tears from my eyes and still focus on his hand. My voice is small and quiet, not the way I ever like to hear it. “It’s not even the second or third. And they’ve all been so much worse.” I let out a sad, sobby chuckle. “Which is why me crying about this is so fucking stupid because this was nothing. Worse things happen to people all the time and this was just some guy being a creep and–“

“Hey,” He rests his free hand on top of my own that were fidgeting more than I’d realized. “It wasn’t nothing. It was something. Something worth getting in a fight for. Okay?”

“It just shouldn’t be this upset over something so small.” My voice is not even a whisper. “It’s my fault.”

Weak

Is the only thing that is repeating in my head over and over.

I could’ve gotten myself out of the situation sooner.

I shouldn’t have frozen up.

I should’ve just taken the drink.

It didn’t have to escalate to that point.

I could’ve handled it on my own.

I shouldn’t be crying.

I was weak.

I am weak.

Weak.

Weak.

Weak.

He sits up and takes my chin into his fingers, titling my face up to meet his. The growing swelling all over his face only makes me feel worse. “You’re not stupid and it’s not your fault.” I know he’s trying to keep it together for me, but I can tell he’s struggling to form and deliver coherent sentences. “I don’t need to know any of the other instances to know that you were never stupid or that anything was your fault. Okay?”

I nod but it’s not enough for him. “I need to hear it.” The look in his chocolate eyes is one I haven’t seen in him before. Even behind his drunken daze and black eye, his eyes are genuine, kind, and concerned. A warmth blooms in my chest – it reminds me of when you’re running from the rain, and you rush into the safety of your car. That feeling of reaching a warm, safe place, that’s what I feel.

“Okay.” I reply quietly. “Thank you.”

While Noah is mere inches away from my face with his hand on my cheek, I hear a familiar voice. “What the fuck.” States an already irritated Nicholas.

Our eyes snap up at him and Noah instantly pulls away as if he has something to hide. Nicholas’ eyes shift between us, seemingly trying to decide which to address first.

“What the fuck did you do Noah.” His tone is immediately defensive.

Noah sloppily falls back onto the floor. His eyes go back to focusing on the ceiling. With Nicholas here, he looks unimpressed, maybe aggravated – definitely aggravated. For the person he told me to call, he seems quite unhappy that he’s here.

“No, no, it’s my fault.” I stop him before he continues to blame Noah. “He was protecting me.” I lower my voice into a whisper for the second half, “He helped me.”

“Bull fucking shit.” He sighs then the crouches down to inspect Noah further. He carefully pushes some bloody hairs away from his face, Nicholas’ touch on him is gentler than even mine. He gets a clear view of Noah’s face, it’s adorned with a black eye, a bruised nose covered in dried blood and a gashed open bottom lip.

“Do you think he’ll have to get that stitched up?” I bring up my thumb and chew on a freshly manicured nail.

He tugs at the injured boy’s lip looking at it closer, “No he’s fucking fine.”

While Nicholas is visibly angry, he seems oddly calm, at least calmer that I expected. I suppose it makes sense though, I’m sure this isn’t his first rodeo with a drunken Noah in a bar fight.

He lets go of his lip letting it harshly snap back into place earning a whine from Noah. “Hey!”

Nicholas stands up straight and offers me a hand to get myself up. Once I’m up in front of him, he gives me a once over, probably questioning my outfit of a lace corset and a skirt. “What were you guys doing here?” He questions angrily and closes a bit of the space between us.

“It’s a long story.” Between the alcohol, the fight, and my fading panic attack, I don’t have the energy to go through it all. He goes to argue with me, and I shut him down, mirroring his low grumbly voice. “I’ll explain later.”

His thick brows fall straight, evidently not liking my answer. He takes a moment, as if he’s trying to decide on the next thing to say without pissing me off. “He could’ve gotten you hurt. He could’ve hurt you.”

I scrunch my brows up at him. Sure, I’ve seen Noah storm out of numerous doors, and I saw him get a little abrasive with Bryan earlier, but would he actually hurt someone? Would he have hurt me?

“He didn’t, Nicholas.” I place my hand softly on his chest in an effort to calm him down. “Believe it or not… he saved me.” The sentence surprises even me as I say it.

Skepticism plasters itself across his face. “Saved you from what exactly?”

My eyes flutter to the ground and the same panicky feeling from before spins behind my ribcage. “It doesn’t matter.” I wave away the technicalities. “Point is, he didn’t do anything wrong. You should let up on him.”

He gives me a you’ve-gotta-be-shitting-me look.

The man from before – which I learned from the guys that pulled him away earlier, that his name was Mike – is being escorted out of the bar by two men who look like security guards.

“Oh, so you didn’t just need one scrawny bitch you needed two?” He practically spits at me while wiggling beneath the guard’s grip.

“Excuse me?” Nicholas snaps immediately turning to narrow his eyes at the man.

He laughs, “This one’s even more pathetic.”

I’m not sure why that, out of everything, fills me with the most rage of all. Anger spreads through me like electricity and every cell in my body propels me towards him.

An arm hooks around my waist and recoils me backwards before my fists can reach his body. Even though Nicholas is shorter than Noah, he still towers over me, and I must look tiny in his arms.

Mike mocks me while the guards try to urge him towards the door.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t fucking talk about them like that!” I struggle trying to escape from Nick’s surprisingly strong arms.

“Hey, hey calm down,” Nicholas hushes me with a little chuckle. “I got you.” His hand gives my side a reassuring little squeeze. “It’s okay.”

Once Mike is completely out of the bar a heavy weight is lifted from my chest and I can finally breathe again. Whether on purpose or by chance, Nicholas’ arm is still wrapped around me, but I don’t mind it. His warmth is comfortable against the frigid air of the bar. It feels nice, like a shelter.

Only then does it occur to me that any sort of panic or fear I was feeling before was soothed by him. In his arms I feel safe, and it reminds me of the way I felt with Noah earlier.

“C’mon asshole,” Nicholas snaps at Noah who’s looking half dead, still laying on the ground.

Noah covers his mouth and squeezes his eyes closed, “I’m gonna need a fucking trashcan.”

“Enough with the dramatics.” Nicholas rolls his eyes, and I can practically feel the impatience and aggravation radiating from his body. “Get the fuck up so I can get us home.”

There is that word again: us.

Us.

It’s a just small detail of wording but for whatever reason, I cling onto it like it means something.

Maybe my time with them won’t be as fleeting as I thought it would be.

next chapter -> 09 - Lavender Haze

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo [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 asks but i still love them 😅 i'm so sorry)

ALSO! Thank you so much for the love on my new series, Intertwined 💗 New chapter coming soon! 💗

#i s2g i’ve edited this so many time i can’t even look at it anymore #so here have it already 😭 #cheers to this being the longest chapter of the series so far 🥂 #i feel like vallie’s personality really shines through in this one #concreteburialplot works #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #nicholas ruffilo x oc #bad omens x oc #virality series

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 01

01 - It Helps Too

pairing: noah x nicholas

summary/masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 1.6k

cw; night terrors, mentions of medical emergencies, crying, sad boys lol, 18+ MDNI

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

NICHOLAS

I wake to shrill screams coming from the ground beside the bed. I rub my eyes as my sleepy consciousness is still trying make sense of what’s happening. Then it clicks and I scramble to the edge of the bed to peer down to where Noah is supposed to be sleeping.

The sight I’m met with is horrifying to say the least. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs like a banshee and his body is moving in an alarming way, but his eyes are closed.

“Noah.” I urgently pat his shoulder to wake him, but it seems useless, he’s not even reacting to me. I hop out of bed and click on the lamp on my bedside table.

“Noah.” I drop to my knees beside his makeshift blanket-bed. “Noah!” I take hold of his shoulders and shake my best friend trying rip him from sleep.

His screams remind me of the kind you only hear in horror movies, full of pure terror. No matter how hard I shake him, his teary eyes won’t crack open. His body is thrashing violently in a way I’ve only ever seen on TV when people have seizures.

Is this a seizure? Do people normally scream when they have seizures? 

Of course something like this would happen when my family is away for the weekend. My mom would know what to do.

But she’s not here and I have no idea how the fuck to deal with this… whatever this is.

Do I call 911? What am I supposed to tell them? My friend is screaming and crying and won’t wake up?

“Noah!” I shout trying to be louder than his own yells and yank on his arm so hard I think it might fall off. Still nothing.

“Fuck.” I grumble assessing my options, but Noah’s convulsing is making everything so much worse. I decide the flailing is the first thing I need to get under control. So, I hop on top of him, a knee at each side of his hips, grab hold of his wrists and pin them to the carpet. “Noah!” The weak muscles in his toothpick arms are working overtime to break free from my grasp and his legs resemble someone who’s running a marathon. “NOAH!”

Mid-scream Noah’s eyes shoot open and is immediately visibly confused by his own yelling. His eyes blink to adjust to the light of lamp above him. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and tears are still streaming down his pale face. He seems to be analyzing the entire situation, first the room, then himself, then finally me. His brows furrow up at me, “What’s going on?” He asks slowly, putting a perplexed pause between each word.

“Um…I’m not really sure.” I reply quietly, my own heart racing from the panic. “I think you were having a nightmare?” I quickly but carefully pull my hands away from him when I realize that I’m still restraining his arms.

There’s a brief pause where he’s trying to put the pieces together in his mind, but he must’ve stumbled across a terrible answer because dams suddenly break in his eyes. His hands immediately hide his face from me.

I’ve only ever seen Noah cry a handful of times before and each time has been horrific.

I pull off of him and gently hold his arm, “Hey, what’s wrong? Was it the dream?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer and just continues to sob into his hands. Seeing him this way makes my insides twist into pretzels, I want to save him from whatever torment he’s going through.

“How can I help Noah? I want to help.” I say a bit more confidently because maybe if I sound sterner, he’ll actually answer me.

He says nothing but flips away from me, using his pillow to partially cry into. I hate seeing him like this and I’m not just going to go back to sleep when he’s on the floor next to me sobbing.

So, I do the only thing I can think of. I use every bit of strength in my body to lift him up by his arm. I’m shorter than him but he’s rail thin and lighter than he looks. He fights me by trying to yank his arm away from me, but I’m stronger than that and get him somewhat upright. There’s no more fight left in his body when I hook my own arms underneath his armpits and he lets me manhandle him into my bed.

Breathlessly I flop over him to the other side of the bed. He’s already curled into himself away from me and wailing into the pillow closest to him. I’m not quite sure what he’s crying about but I know he’s got an arsenal of things to choose from.

I feel awkward, like I’m intruding on something in my own room. But I know I can’t just lay here doing nothing while he’s sobbing next to me.

I turn towards him and reach out to rub his arm. He tenses beneath my touch for half a second before his hand goes to squeeze mine hard. My thumb gives his fingers a reassuring rub and don’t dare move my hand from his grasp.

With my free hand, I go to do something that always soothes me. I gently run my fingers through Noah’s brunette hair, tucking it behind his ear and smoothing it out. He nearly purrs at the touches and it noticeably calms his cries. I try to take my hand from his hold and he’s hesitant but ultimately lets go. I begin to gather all the stray pieces of his hair and rake through his long hair with both hands. My fingers smoothly glide through his shoulder length locks.

Noah’s cries finally die down and the only noise in the room comes from the gentle rain hitting my window. “I’m sorry about your dream.”

He says nothing but readjusts his head to give me more access to his hair.

My eyes glance over to the small pile of duffle bags in the corner of my room. “Was it about the move?” I ask cautiously.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.” He says sternly but still soft. I nod as if he can see me from behind. He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his arm.

“Is this helping?” I question genuinely. I don’t think it would do much good for either of us for me to continue if it’s not helpful. Soothing him like this feels somehow both comforting yet uncomfortable at the same time.

He pauses, “I think so.” Another quiet sniffle. “Yes. It helps.” He confirms.

“Cool.” I’m not sure why I said that, this is definitely not the place to use the word cool.

Thankfully he ignores it. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He states meekly and wraps his arms around his frail body.

I tug the fluffy duvet over us but making sure to tuck him in a bit. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you for… helping me.” He drags out the words like he’s not sure what exactly he should be thanking me for.

“Sure.” Three of my fingers split his hair into three parts and I start overlapping each piece over each other into a messy, uneven braid. “It’s not my best work, but it’s something.” I tuck the braid onto the front of his shoulder for him to be able to touch.

His fingers go to feel the braid’s ridges between his fingers and a tiny smile forms on his lips, “I like it. It helps too.”

It helps too

I don’t know why but his comment fills my chest with pride and coats my cheeks with rosy warmth.

“I like it too. I’m happy to help.” That reply seems to narrow and shallow for the situation at hand but it’s all I have to offer.

He yawns, obviously exhausted since his sleep was anything but restful. “Um,” He starts, then plays with the braid a bit. “Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” He asks referencing the bed.

“Oh, yeah sure. That’s why I brought you up here.” I suddenly realize how close I am to him and scooch back. “I can, um, sleep on the floor.” I go to jump over him, but he catches my arm and grips it firmly.

“I want you to– Can you stay?” He asks, looking up at me with puffy brown eyes. “It helps.” He repeats from earlier.

It helps

“It helps?” I question.

“Yeah. You help.” He clarifies.

My heart swells in my chest so unexpectedly that it almost makes me dizzy.

It’s got to be from the lack of sleep.

He takes notice of my hesitation and grows impatient. “Please?” His chocolate eyes are large, round and glossy - how am I supposed to say no to them?

“Oh, uh, yeah sure.” I nod and take note of how my voice inadvertently pitched higher than normal.

I return to my original spot beside Noah, lying flat on my back staring at the popcorn ceiling. Noah leans forward and clicks the lamp off, leaving the only light in the room be from the bright moon outside my window. He reaches behind himself and searches for my hand by patting around the duvet. I catch his roaming hand and he holds it partially by just our palms, no interlacing fingers.

So, I let my hand be an anchor for him. He needs someone and I’m here to help. I’m his best friend, that’s what friends do, they help.

It doesn’t take long for soft, small sleepy noises to come from Noah. The room is cold and suddenly darker than I remember it being moments ago. While I could pull my hand from his now that he’s asleep, I don’t want to.

It’s dark and chilly and maybe I like the anchor of his hand too.

Next Chapter -> 02 - No Judging*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; thank you so much for all the love on my other series Virality. i was very hesitant to post that one originally but since it's been so well received it's let me branch out, hence Intertwined.

I hope you guys like this one, please lmk if you do💘

#i love writing in first person sorry not sorry<3 #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo rpf #concreteburialplot works

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 07

07 - Heartthrob Strategy

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc / noah sebastian x fem!oc

word count: 3.5k

masterlist/intro: here / crossposted: ao3

warnings: annoying pissy noah lol, bryan ?? 👀, important plot shit, short time skips, reminder that this is a semi-au which means nothing is meant to be accurate lol especially real event timelines, 18+

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

Mumbling voices trickle into my sleeping ears and I scrunch my face in annoyance then flip on my side. My eyes shoot open once my consciousness reminds me that I live alone. My corneas burn at the sudden influx of sunlight and I use my forearm to shield the brightness. Immediately assessing my surroundings, I recognize it’s the boys’ living room. I’m about to sit up when I hear my name from the kitchen. I pull up the blanket to cover my face a bit and stay completely still to listen.

“I can’t believe you pulled that shit with Vallie last night.” Scolds a voice I recognize to be Nicholas’.

“Nick you can’t be serious. We were drunk.” Replies Folio with his distinctive attitude.

“She’s our manager.” Nicholas clarifies, sternly.

“She’s a manager, one of the many we have.” Jolly’s distinguishable accent chimes in. “But Nicholas is right, we can’t act like she’s some groupie.”

“We can’t treat her like some groupie, but Nick can eye-fuck her all night?” Snaps Folio.

My brows furrow at his comment then my eyes widen when the memories of last night flood in and the soreness between my legs confirms my fears.

I slept with Nicholas

Fuck

Nicholas sighs, annoyed, “I wasn’t eye-fucking her, you ass, I was being fucking nice.”

For some reason it feels like an insult, but I’m not sure why.

“Right.” Folio and Jolly reply skeptically at the same time.

“Really, this is your fault Ruffilo.” Accuses Folio, “You were the one that suggested a party. What did you think was going to happen with all five of us drunk? With her looking like that?”

“Alright that sounded a little assault-y Nick.” Jolly interjects, no doubt accompanied with a glare.

“I didn’t mean it like that Joakim, you know that.” I can practically hear his eyeroll. “I just meant she’s a grown adult too, and she was eye-fucking Nicholas just as much.”

My cheeks grow warm at the idea of it being that obvious.

“It doesn’t fucking matter who’s eye fucking who. Nobody,” He pauses, I assume he’s pointing at both of them, “Nobody is sleeping with her. The label will have our asses if we fuck this up and you know it.”

I hear one of them begin but is interrupted by an overbearing hush and even though I’m not in the room, I feel the tension rise.

“Hey.” Squeaks a meek watered-down version of Noah’s voice. It flashes the memory of him on the floor with my pinky wrapped around his. A lot of last night is still a blur, but that moment with him on the ground is crystal clear.

The silence is loud as two sets of feet shuffle away, no doubt being Folio and Jolly. There’s brief stillness before Nicholas disrupts the quiet, “I can’t fucking believe you showed up here like that.”

“I know Nick, we don’t have to do this.” He sounds exhausted.

“’Don’t have to do this’? Noah you told me you’ve been doing better.”

“I know, I know.”

“Have you been going to meetings?”

Noah is quiet for a long second, “Rehearsals have been kicking my ass Nick.” The words slip from him quick, like he’d been holding them in for too long.

Nicholas sighs in disappointment, “Noah.”

“And now with this shit now with Valerie, it’s too much.” Aggravation spikes in his tone around my name.

“Oh my god, can you literally shut up about Vallie.” A bit of silence hangs in the air before Nicholas continues, his voice deepens and holds more grit, “She’s not this monster you think she is.”

“’Vallie’ huh? Didn’t I hear you call her Val last night too?” Noah slides back into his regular angry inflection. “I was right, you do wanna fuck her.”

“You can’t be serious with this again. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh, are you sure?” He questions condescendingly, “Because last time I checked, you haven’t fucked anything since Alice left.”

Alice?

Must be some ex girlfriend I have no business knowing about via eavesdropping.

“You’re way out of line.” Growls Nicholas with the sound of a heavy boot stepping forward probably backing Noah back into the counter.

“Am I? Because I think you know I’m right. And we both know that you fall for anyone who gives you the time of day.” His words are sharp like a blade. There is something sinister tangled in his voice when he’s cornered like that, like he’s a wounded animal striking out.

“Noah.” He warns in a deep rasp from the back of his throat.

“She’s just a greedy, corporate, stuck-up bitch from New York,” Noah hisses lowly. “The only reason you can’t see it is because you’re too busy staring at her tits.”

The names don’t surprise me, I know that’s how people perceive me. Sometimes having people be weary of you is more valuable than being loved.

“Well, that ‘greedy stuck-up bitch’ saved your ass last night. I was ready to leave you on the kitchen floor in your own fucking vomit.” Nicholas snarls. “You owe her a thank you and a fucking apology.”

The weighty thud of footsteps reverberates throughout the small two-story home as they walked out of the kitchen and into a room behind an aggressively slammed door.

Whoever stayed in the kitchen, who I assumed was Noah, began filling the still house with tiny clanks of dishware and cabinets as he cleaned up.

I weigh my options on how to escape and I ultimately choose to wait ‘til the coast is clear because dealing with angsty hungover boys wasn’t on my agenda today. It didn’t take long for Noah to finish up in the kitchen and departing into his own room. I immediately throw the fleece blanket off me, gather all my belongings and make a straight b-line for the front door.

When I finally make it home, I unlock my phone while I'm still sat in my car. There’s a text from a new contact named “Nicholas” accompanied with a guitar emoji and a cat emoji. I don’t remember swapping numbers with him, but we must’ve last night at some point.

Nicholas:

“You didn’t say goodbye”

For some reason, the little text makes my cheeks burn hot and my stomach tickle with butterflies. It’s sweet, like he normally is, but the memory of his dominance trickles heat down to where he left me sore.

I bite into my bottom lip contemplating on how I could respond.

Me:

“How did your number get in my phone?” Accompanied with the raised brow emoji.

Him:

“Magic”

Typing bubble, stop.

Typing bubble, stop.

Typing bubble,

“I hope you had at least a little fun.”

I did have fun, maybe too much fun. But it’s clear that we’re going to just pretend it never happened, which is probably for the best. Though, there is a quiet whispering part of me that wants it to happen again.

Typing bubble, stop.

Typing bubble,

“The guys liked you.”

I roll my eyes and want to reply with “except Noah” but I figure with the altercation between them earlier, it’s best to leave it alone.

Me:

“I’m glad you think so. I did have fun, thanks for putting it together :)”

I type then delete

Type then delete,

“So, what you up to today?”

I hate myself the minute I hit send. I can’t let the flood of butterflies get the best of me, but they’re already nestled in the walls of my stomach as I await his reply.

It’s been about 3 weeks since I saw the guys while I was away dealing with a publicity disaster with my main client.

The entire time I was gone all I could think about was Nicholas…

And the pinky swear with Noah.

I couldn’t get them out of my head, and I couldn’t figure out why. I hated the way my stomach would flip every time Nicholas texted me. So, I forced myself to ignore him completely unless it was about work. My life is too busy to be worried about butterflies, nonetheless over him. Sleeping with him was a mistake and it’s already complicated my job enough.

The minute I landed at LAX, I texted them saying that I wanted to hold a meeting to go over their marketing strategy.

I stroll into the rehearsing studio during the tail end of their set. I chose a short black dress beneath a large coat paired with sheer black tights and knee-high boots – an outfit much too warm for LA. As I walk towards the seating area, I feel eyes on me. My cheeks burn babydoll pink with a small grin that I dug my top teeth into to stop. Each of them acknowledges me with either a head nod or small wave, except Nicholas. Which I take as kind of odd, but I just ignore it.

Not much after that, they wrapped up rehearsal and walked over to meet me. I shouldn’t be surprised at the uncomfortable energy between us, but I figured the party had bridged that gap.

They stand in front of me in a semicircle around the high-top round table, looking at me as if they’re in detention: annoyed and impatient.

“So, I’ve done some research into your fanbase.” Noah’s brow peaked up, the most interested in what I’m about to say. “Your fanbase is strong. But it’s small.”

“Are you just here to insult us Valerie?” Noah questions, irritated like he has somewhere better to be.

I ignore the usage of my full name, “There’s a pretty easy way to gain more fans.”

“Well?” Folio presses from the background, “Are you gonna tell us or you just gonna dick around?”

I press my lips flat together and take a moment before I state my solution. My hands fidget with the Apple pencil in my hand, rolling it between my fingers. I know I need to state this firmly and confidently.

“We have to put more focus on Noah.”

Noah’s face is blank while he processes the words and the other three are getting more offended the longer the words sit in their heads.

“Why.” Asked Nicholas in more of a statement than a question.

I debate whether to be truthful or not, to cover it with more jargon about how he’s the lead singer, but I choose to be honest. “He’s hot.”

A jarringly loud silence falls across the space between us. Each of their faces tells a different story. Noah’s face is flat with shock it seems, maybe anger beginning to pour in. Jolly seems to have already acknowledged this strategy previously, and as the most mature one, it makes sense. Folio looks like a little kid who is pissed off over someone stealing his toy. And finally, Nicholas looks the most upset out of all of them. His expression is a mix of sadness and anger with his brows downturned to match the edges of his lips.

“The fans think Noah is hot.” I clarify, though it’s too late. “As well as the rest of you. But he is the lead singer.”

“I’m not a part of some boyband Valerie.” Noah begins and he narrows his eyes at me, “I want people to like our band for the music, not because they think we’re dreamy.”

“Why not both.” I counter immediately.

“Because – well, because that’s just not the band I want.” He struggles to come up with a solid reason.

“Girls are what’s going to grow your audiences. Male dominated shows aren’t going to sell out your concerts and buy all your merch. Your profit margins will always be higher with a female audience.” I explain evenly and technically. I find myself avoiding Nicholas’ eyes as I speak, something about the way he’s looking at me makes my intestines twist like I’d done something wrong.

“Drooling fangirls is not what I want for this band.” Noah is stern and defensive in his inflection. The band beside him seem to share the same sentiment.

“Drooling fangirls is where the money is.”

“Maybe Noah was right.” Nods a pissed off Nicholas, “This was a fucking mistake.” And with that he pushes himself from the table and walks straight out the door.

I can’t tell if Folio and Jolly are actually upset about it too, maybe it’s confusion they feel. Regardless they thumb over their shoulders indicating that they’re going to get Nicholas. They scurry from the awkward tension of the room, leaving me alone with Noah. The minute his nearly black eyes reach my own, anxiety spreads through me like spilled ink.

But the fear fades when he opens his mouth. “You really think that would work?” He asks calmly – probably the most normal voice he’s ever talked to me with.

Relief washes over me at his words, “Yes absolutely. Sex sells, and you’re sexy.” I state flatly.

His eyes track me, every slight body gesture. “Maybe we could try it.” His voice is laced with apprehension and vulnerability. “We’ve worked too hard to just now start to get some recognition.”

“I thought you didn’t want to sell out?” I question, though it’s something I shouldn’t have asked.

“I don’t… I won’t. But I want the attention we deserve. We’ve worked so fucking hard for this.” His eyes focus on some spot on the chair behind me, dissociating for a short second before tracking my eyes again. “Is that something you could do for us? Get us the attention we want without selling out?”

“That’s what I’m here to do. I’ll try my best to position the strategy to work in a way that keeps the integrity of the band. But once the fans start storming in, controlling the media is an entirely other beast.”

“Well, that’s what you get paid for isn’t it? Handling the media?” He’s quick to catch any sort of weakness. It’s extremely clear just how serious he is about the band’s “look”.

“Publicity falls under my umbrella to an extent, yes.” For some reason, divulging that information to him makes me nervous.

 “Okay.” He says shortly and rounds the table to face me directly, “Do your job, do it well and we won’t have a problem.”

I can tell he meant for those words to intimidate me. “I’ll do my job well if you do yours.” I offer my hand as some sort of truce.

He looks at my hand, probably shocked that I didn’t fold under his weak threat, then meets me in a firm handshake. “I’ll do mine if you do yours.”  

I haven’t seen the boys in a week or two since the meeting, which I’m grateful for. I wish I could say I regret sleeping with Nicholas – I guess I do to a degree because of work, but I don’t really. That was the best sex I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever. But it made everything so complicated, especially now that he hates me because I called his frontman hot. It seems so childish, I’ve never been a jealous person, I never understood it. And we just fucked, it’s not even like we were together.

Thankfully this next meeting is just going to be me, Noah and the band photographer. I pull up to a random location that Noah sent me and it’s just a small, abandoned warehouse in a rural part of the city. I slam the door of my blue Mercedes and the gravel crunches beneath my boots as I walk up the path to the giant open garage style entrance. “Hello?” I call looking around and anxiously smoothing out my blazer.

“In here.” Calls a voice I don’t recognize from a far corner. I follow the voice and find Noah and another brunette, this one with a beard. Immediately his energy towards me is vastly different than the others. The corners of his lips curl into a charismatic grin and holds out a hand like a gentleman, “Hi I’m Bryan.”

I match his energy with a similar smile and shake his hand, “Nice to meet you Bryan. I’m Vallie.”

“Vallie.” He repeats smoothly, “Such a pretty name.”

A slight warmth spreads across my cheeks at the compliment, “Thank you.”

Noah is sat at a plastic table in front of a laptop, scrolling through whatever he’s working on and Bryan is standing over his shoulder. I pull a plastic chair out and sit across from Noah at the makeshift desk. I look around for a place to set down my bag, but everything including the tabletop is so dirty that I just sit it on my lap.

“So, what’s this ridiculous revolutionary idea that Noah says you have?” Bryan asks, using the back of Noah’s chair to lean forward against.

I sigh, mentally preparing for an uphill battle. “I said we should focus on him. Like his looks.”

“Like a boyband.” He confirms.

I nod, “Kind of. Yes.”

A grin spreads across his face, “I’ve been tellin’ you Sebastian!” Bryan lightly smacks the back of the long-haired singer. “Because he’s sooo dreaaammy.” He tangles Noah’s brunette locks around his fingers to imitate a fangirl and I bring my hand up to cover a giggle.

Noah rolls his eyes and smacks his arms away, “Don’t fuckin’ touch me Kirks.”

“As you can see, our fearless leader is feeling a little grumpy today.” Bryan makes a pouty face over at him. Out of all the boys, Bryan is the only one I’d seen that didn’t act like he’s below Noah. “I’ve been telling him that they should lean into that. Whether they actually are attractive or not-” Earning a glare from Noah and chuckle from Bryan, “Doesn’t matter. The fangirls will eat it up regardless.”

I grinned wide, feeling so relieved that there was someone else that had some sense of how this business works. “Yes, exactly!”

“See, not everyone in Bad Omens is a big grumpy pants who doesn’t want money.” Bryan says jokingly.

“I don’t want the money.” Noah says firmly, curling his hand into a fist, without looking up at us from the laptop. “I just…want to do what we do but, better.”

“Okay but that’s exactly what she’s here for.”

“Yeah, I know.” Noah grumbles under his breath.

“Okay so, what exactly are we doing in a warehouse?” I ask after a crow flies through the opening.

“Well, right now we’re just kinda brainstorming.” Bryan explains, “We’re planning to shoot a music video in here for their latest single.”

“For Just Pretend?” I ask and they both look at me like I have two heads.

“You listened to Just Pretend?” Noah inquires with a raised brow.

“Well yeah. You think I take on clients without listening to their discography?” I reply back with the same attitude.

“Right, but you listened to all of it?” He presses.

“Well, I listened to Just Pretend and your latest album, Finding God Before God Finds Me.” I press my lips together before speaking again, “Which is a ridiculous name by the way.”

Bryan laughs and shakes his head, “She’s funny, I like her.”

Noah waves away his nonsense and narrows his eyes at me, “You really listened to it?”

“Yeah. I liked it.” I answered simply.

“Alright now that your ego’s been stroked Noah, can we get started?” Bryan clapped his hands together to get our attention.

-

About an hour into “brainstorming”, Noah and I are bickering over every little decision.

“I don’t fucking understand why’re so pressed about everything.” I snap at Noah who is making a big deal about anything I suggest.

“Because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Noah retorts back harshly and steps forward to me.

The only intimidating thing about him is his height towering over me, but I’m not about to back down some egotistical lead singer. I mimic him and move forward. “I would go as far to say that I know more than you-”

“Hey hey,” Bryan interjects, stabbing his arm through the air between me and Noah. “I’m so fucking sick of hearing you both bicker like little schoolgirls.” His funny, goofy personality had been chipped away. “This is ridiculous, you have to get past this. You guys are gonna go do something together – I don’t fucking know what, but I know you can’t work like this. I can’t work like this.”

“I’m not doing anything with her.” Noah walks backwards with crossed arms.

“Yes, you are.” Bryan blocks Noah from my view with his back, “Because I know your bosses and they’ll hear about this if you don’t fix it.” He warns lowly, obviously trying to hush it from me.

Noah steps forward, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Don’t fuckin’ forget who your boss is.” He hissed then brushed passed him, knocking his shoulder back. He paces quickly out through the opening with heavy stomps. I take a short moment to look around the scene and at Bryan who gives me a look that says “do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t know”. I swiftly throw all my belongings into my large tote and chase after the fuming singer.

I spot him at the end of the gravely driveway, lighting the end of a cigarette. “Hey! Don’t leave without me!” I shout after him.

He looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes, “Just go home.”

“Fuck, you move fast.” I say breathlessly when I catch up to him. “What the fuck do you mean go home? We have shit to do Noah, we’re doing it.”

“God you’re insufferable.” He groans and rolls his eyes once more, “Fine.” He agrees and takes one more drag of his cig before dropping it on the concrete and stepping on it with the heel of his leather boot. “But we’re doing it my way.”

Next Chapter -> 08 - Play Along

taglist; @ladyveronikawrites [comment if you'd like to be added?]

a/n: thank you so much if you took the time to read this! I'm extremely appreciative of those of you who are liking, reblogging or commenting on this story 🥺

ik this chp wasn't the most exciting but next one is juicy i promise🫡

lmk if you liked it 🖤

p.s. new series coming soon...

Up now -> Intertwined; Noah x Nicholas

Best friends since middle school, Noah and Nicholas are now freshmen in college. Their friendship begins to shift when Noah gets kicked out and needs to move in with Nicholas. The pair have to navigate their friendship while trying to get their band off the ground, Noah battling his mind, and Nicholas trying to understand his confusing jealousy.

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