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🤭🥹💕✨😩😭

The ones with the white tank? What if she finds him like that after a practice or a fight and he just needs a hug?🤭

No sorry, I just can't wait for making little thoughts about them already🤭

my saved pins after writing the first chapter of fresh bruises

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His smile…

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Does it include the girl too?🤭

Can you tag me in it when you post it please?💕

Just Don't Lie to Me ~ n.s

Summary: Noah’s girlfriend gets hit on at a bar while he’s off to the bathroom. Possessive Noah feels like reminding her of her place once they get home.

Warnings: possessive-ish Noah, dom!Noah!!!, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, mention of threesome, general rough sex (let me know if i’m forgetting anything)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s note: Hello, this is my first “post” on my new page! Feedback and thoughts are encouraged as I have not published anything in a very, very long time. As always, this is a fictional work about real people. This is entirely made up and for fun only!

Smut below. Minors DNI.

You were leaned over by the front door of your apartment, shuffling off your platform boots. 

“Listen, I have to say it one more time. She was flirting with you and I don’t believe for a second that you were unaware of it.” Noah said, arms crossed leaning against the kitchen island wearing a playful smirk.

“I swear, I would’ve known if she was flirting and she was definitely just being a drunk girl spewing compliments while she waiting on her drink.” 

Although, you had really hoped she was flirting. Even though you shouldn’t have.

And honestly, it definitely had felt like she was flirting, hard.

*Earlier that night*

You were at one of your usual dive bar spots, waiting on Noah to get back from the bathroom. Feeling a little awkward and self-conscious about being alone for the interim, you kept pretending to check a message on your phone and stir your watered down drink.

“You know, if I had brought you here, there’s just no way I would leave you alone.” 

You looked to your left, and whether it was the alcohol catching up or the woman beside you, your head started to feel fuzzy. She had glossy, wavy, black hair to her hips, strong brown eyes decorated in winged black liner that bored into yours, and a radiating confidence about her. She smiled at you like she wanted to devour you and for a second, you thought about letting her.

“Hah, well that’s very cute but my boyfriend will be back in a second,” you slurped the last drop of your drink, sliding it to the other side of the bar.

“Well can’t I at least keep you company in the meantime? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a pretty girl taking care of his pretty girl while he left her alone. Plus, it looks like you need a drink.”

You hated yourself but you couldn’t help but feel flushed at this point. You’d always been attracted to everyone and were comfortable with attention from women. But this was wrong. You were ashamed that you were even entertaining her, but she was so captivating you couldn’t help but want to keep her around for as long as you could. 

As if she could sense the heat, she reached to tuck one of your ginger locks behind your ear so she could see you. It felt like you could melt at any second.

Shaking yourself out of your pathetic fantasy, you stepped away. “Listen, I really am flattered and you’re stunning and I’m sure a great person, but I really am waiting on my boyfriend to get back.”

She snickered and shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, heard loud and clear. I hope I wasn’t too pushy.” You shook your head at her as she started to turn to walk away. “But seriously, he better worship you like the goddess you are.”

You looked back down at the bar, similar to earlier but feeling antsy for an entirely different reason this time. You were feeling so many things: lust, guilt, shame. 

You sat there for another minute or two, lost in your thoughts until you jumped at that familiar hand on your back.

“What was that all about?” Noah leaned into your ear, the same ear that that mystery vixen had just touched a moment ago.

“Nothing. She was just making small talk while she waited on her drink.”

“She didn’t leave with a drink in her hand. She was flirting with you.” He smirked.

You felt like you got caught, even though you knew he was being playful. Feeling like lying to mask your shame, you spoke up. “No she was not. She walked up complimenting my back tattoo and wanted to know more about it because she’d been wanting to get hers done soon.

What a stupid, stupid lie. He’s gonna know you’re lying.

He huffed, “I’m sure she did compliment you, just looked like she was interested in more that tattoo artist recommendations.”

Oh God, how much had he seen? Of course he hadn’t been in the bathroom that entire time.

“C’mon babe you don’t have to be embarrassed to admit it if she was. I’m secure enough to know she can’t take you from me.” He put his hand under your chin and looked at you in a very possessive, but affirming way, 

“While I appreciate that, she wasn’t flirting with me, seriously. Look, can we just drop it? I’m ready for sweats and the couch.”

Noah smiled, pulling cash from his wallet, not wanting to bother waiting around for a copy of the tab, “Of course. Let’s get out of here.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the bar to wait outside for a ride-share home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baby, I saw the way she touched your hair, like the way I would touch your hair,” He raised his eyebrows, arms still crossed but stepping out closer to you now. “It’s okay that she was, I would too if I saw you alone, but why did you lie?”

Your guilt was eating you alive at this point. You and Noah had always allowed each other openness and transparency in all aspects in your relationship, and he knew that you had a history of primarily dating women romantically and sexually before meeting him.

“I’m sorry, but I just didn’t want to say anything about it because it kind of threw me off guard I guess.” You were starting to come around to the full truth but still feeling upset, crossing your arms now looking at your tights. 

He put one hand behind your neck, urging you to look up at him, and cupped his other hand on your upper arm.

“I don’t like when you lie to me, you know that. You can tell me anything, especially where it concerns your emotions.” He began to look at you with a more stern look in his eyes.

Sighing, you felt like you had disappointed him, which is what you had wanted to avoid altogether by avoiding the conversation. You rubbed your eyes for a second, then glanced back up, “What do you mean my emotions? It was a stranger giving me empty compliments.”

Noah took his hands off you, making you internally wince. “Angel, I don’t appreciate you pretending to be innocent in this. It’s obvious that you liked it. You won’t make eye contact with me and your skin is on fire.” He looks like he’s past the point of being patient, but you just can’t bring yourself to speak up.

“Just tell me what she said that got you so damn flustered baby.”

You grew hotter. Noah could call you any pet name in the book and it would make your skin heat up. You turned around, starting to walk past the living room toward the hall.

“She said that if she was with me that I would never be alone at a bar or something.” 

You kept walking to the bedroom, suddenly needing to change into more breathable clothing. You knew he was following you closely behind.

He laughed, he actually laughed at you. “And that’s what got you so hot and bothered?”

“Well it wasn’t just that, it- it was everything. She just came up to me, came on very strong, and kind of threw me for a loop. I guess I just haven’t been approached like that in a very long time and I’m sorry I reacted like that.” You sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, half expecting Noah to turn back around and walk out. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, resting one hand on his thigh and one hand on yours.

“Hey, I don’t want you to be ashamed for feeling anything that you feel. But I do need you to be honest with me if there’s anything on your mind. I don’t mind you having a fantasy, but don’t embarrass me by trying to keep it a secret from me, yes?” You knew he was right, and you felt even sillier now for trying to lie to him about anything in the first place.

“Yes,” you nodded at him. 

“Uh uh, yes what?” He began to tower back over you, his power looming around you, making you melt.

“Yes sir. I’ll never lie to you again. I was ashamed that I was flattered and I should have just been honest about it.” Tension was really starting to build up in you. You rubbed your thighs together, dying to relieve something. He moved to put one hand on your knee and then smiled down at you.

“Good girl. Now see, was that so hard to tell me?”

You shook your head and he pouted his lips and shook his too, mocking you.

“Now I would say that you and I have a very healthy relationship, wouldn’t you? But when you violate my trust by lying to me, it puts that health in jeopardy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, I do.” You knew what was next to soon come.

“You’re so sweet, my good girl. You know what I have to do now right?” He takes both of your wrists, pulling you to stand up. Then he moves his right hand to cup your face, holding you in place.

“I have to punish you for tonight. For lying to me, for embarrassing me. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do. I know I should be punished and I want you to punish me for what I did. I need you to take away all of the guilt and shame I have left. Please.”

You couldn’t believe you were being so vulnerable in this setting, even with Noah. You two had always had a very natural dominant/submissive relationship, first sexually and then in everyday life. But this time was weirdly more intimate, making you feel closer to him.

“Okay pup. You know what to do, take everything off.” He took his hands off of you, taking a step back and even putting his hands in his front pockets. God you loved when he wanted to take full control. He looked so sexy, jaw tensed, muscles bulged, hair rustled in his face.

You started sliding your top up over your ribs. The backless, black fitted top that had aided in your lies. You kept your eyes locked on him…God, he looked so fucking good like this. He looked back at you with blown pupils, his hands moving from his pockets to adjust his strained cock then meet at his front. There was something so carnal about that move and you couldn’t help but moan under your breath as you started to unzip and slide down your miniskirt. You knew when he finally put his hands on you he was going to destroy you, but you were becoming too impatient for touch to even care.

“Turn around.” As you turned, you felt his hand on your upper back, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed, urging you to catch yourself on your elbows. You looked back over your shoulders, his eyes burning holes through your back.

“Now turn over, let me see you.”

You complied immediately. You looked up at him doe-eyed, knees pulled up in some effort to hide from him. All of a sudden you were embarrassed, remembering you have forgotten about one little thing.

He smiled, flashing that wicked look. If he didn’t touch you soon, you were gonna fucking explode.

You were on your back, propped up on your elbows, just taking all of him in. In one swift move, his shirt was thrown over his head and onto the pile alongside your clothes. 

“Legs down. I said let me see you.”

Fuck. You slowly lowered your legs and let your feet rest on the wooden frame at the end of the bed.

“Spread them.”

Again, you obliged, instantly getting hot at the sight in front of you.

He unfolded his arms, reaching for both of your knees, looking right at your core.

“Flirting with someone at the bar, okay. That’s one thing. Not wearing any fucking panties in front of everyone and knowing how I feel about that. You’ve been a bad little pup tonight.” He starts to trail his right hand up your thigh, then his left hand. You knew the moment he got close enough he would feel how wet you were. Getting turned on because he was disappointed in you? How pathetic. 

“Promise I’ll get you more of these, yeah?” He had his hands on either side of the seam connecting the tights, hovering dangerously close to your folds. Being teased was worse punishment compared to whatever else he had planned.

“What did you just say?”

Oh fuck. Did you just say that out loud? He cocked an eyebrow at you, then suddenly ripped the tights apart. The cool air grazed your now exposed core, causing you to hiss just enough for him to hear it. 

“If teasing you is punishment, then why are you so fucking wet?” His fingers were dancing along your center now, lightly grazing your folds ever so often. “Is it because of me? Or are you thinking about her?”

What? You shook your head at him. “No don’t be ridiculous. It’s just… embarrassing sometimes.”

He tilted his head, urging you to keep talking, his fingers now daring to slide up and down your folds.

“You just- you just make me feel too good—Oh God.” You were cut off by an involuntary moan, caused by him slamming two fingers into you. As blissful as you felt, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for tonight.

“Can I?” You sat up as straight as you could manage and nodded to his belt.

“Mhm.” He smiled, smiled, down at you. “Thank you for asking, good girl.” You were so close to the edge, and just like that, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up close to his mouth. Even though a part of you knew you had that coming, your jaw still dropped completely open.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know you aren’t getting to cum tonight. Go ahead and take it out.” He took those fingers into his mouth, moaning around them.

You got to work, unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning his pants. You paused to look up at him, and you could have lost your mind at the sight. 

He was looking down at you, hands now behind his back, signaling he wasn’t going to help you with anything. But he also looked at you with admiration, like he was proud of you. Not breaking eye contact, you unzipped his pants, then pulled them down to above his knees. Like muscle memory, you went straight for the waistband of his boxers, pulling down with no hesitation. His cock sprung free, and you looked away only to take it in for a moment.

He was gorgeous, cock flush against his stomach, angry and red. You took full control, pushing him back far enough so that you could get off the bed and onto your knees on the floor. In the next moment you had one hand on him and your mouth on his head. You immediately started moving both together up and down on his hard length, and you could tell he was already worked up. Glancing up through your eyelashes at him, you hollowed your cheeks. knowing this would pull more moans from him. If you were being honest, you were trying to pull out all the stops early on in hopes he would fuck you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to cum but fuck did you need some relief. The way he was so domineering yet also falling apart into you was enough to make you explode at any second.

“Fuck baby, if you keep that up—fuck.” He grabs your shoulders and pulls himself out and lifts you up onto the bed.

“Stomach, now.” You took the order before he even finished speaking, smiling to yourself thinking about what would come next. As if sensing your mischief, he yanks a fistful of your back back, enough to see your face clearly. 

“I’m gonna use you and show you how much you belong to me. I’m gonna fill you up and the second that you even think about cumming, you tell me. Yes?”

“Yes.” He pulled your hair harder. “Yes sir, use me, please.”

He released your hair and brought the same hand down, hard across your left cheek, then grabbed it before placing his other hand on your right cheek. He slowly spread them apart, the cool air hitting your core once again. You felt him spit on your center—like you even needed it—but fuck did you love when he did that. You had a feeling he was gonna be sloppy and filthy and the thought alone almost brought you to your climax. In one swift motion, he spread his spit along your slit and rammed his cock in to the hilt. You moaned into the pillow beneath you, until he pulled in from underneath you, tossing it off the bed.

“Unh uh. Let me hear you.” So you did.

With every thrust you were moaning and babbling, so cock drunk you couldn’t string a full sentence together.

“Getting closer pup. Help Sir out.”

You knew the second you clenched yourself around him he would collapse. Still crying and moaning you squeezed around him, earning a hiss from his throat, making you giggle underneath him. 

He started moving faster, placing one hand on your ass and the other on the back of your head, pressing you further into the mattress. 

“Mmm. Gonna fill you up now.” You tried nodding in acknowledgment, telling him you were ready.

He started to fill you, pumping his cum deeper into you as he released. “Good girl, you take it so well for me.”

He stopped moving, staying inside of you for just a while longer. He came down to kiss the top of your head, pressing himself entirely on you.

You two laid like that for a minute until you broke the silence. “I really am sorry about earlier, you know?”

“I know. Just don’t lie to me, okay?” 

“I promise.”

“Okay, well let’s get cleaned up. I’ll run us a bath.” You groaned as he pulled out of you and got up, stopping to place a kiss on your hand before walking into the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This had to be one of your favorite places in the world. Your back to Noah’s chest with your head in the crook of his neck. You were fading in and out of it, a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You had long since washed each other off, and now you were just enjoying each other’s warmth.

“Hey baby?” His question was soft in your ear.

“Hmm?” You may have had your eyes closed and remained curled up, but he had your full attention. 

“I did get her number for your earlier, the one who flirted with you.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you shot up, turning to face him. “You what? No you didn’t?”

He looked down, nodding. “Yeah, I did. When I saw her walk off from you I walked over to introduce myself, and one thing led to another.” 

“What? What do you mean one thing led to another? How did you even do that without me noticing?” You felt so confused, not betrayed or mad, but puzzled his by actions.

“Well it’s no secret that there was something there—I saw the conversation from basically the beginning. And we’ve discussed the possibility of you bringing someone in. Forgive me but you aren’t exactly forward, so I went over to her.” 

You felt slightly defensive, but also insanely aroused again. “What did you say to her?”

“I introduced myself and told her I saw her talking to my girlfriend, she was immediately apologetic, then I was pretty up front about thinking that you might like to see her sometime if she was into it. She did seem a little caught off guard, but gave me her number anyway and said she’d love to hear from you if you ever wanted to get to know one another.” 

You couldn’t help but feel conflicted. You had been honest in the past that you wanted to bring another woman in from time to time and Noah would do just about anything to keep you satisfied. You also felt guilty, like in some way he was orchestrating your infidelity or something.

“Hey,” he grabbed both sides of your face, forcing you to focus in on him. “I can see your brain going 100 different directions. Don’t do that. I merely didn’t want you to lose out on a possible connection with someone so I interjected. I also don’t want you thinking I’ll be upset in any way. I’m here to be whatever you need me to be. There is no pressure to reach out at all if you don’t want to. After all, you are the one with all of the power.”

You nodded into his hands, he was right. “Well…. you are right I never would have done that on my own, and I did kind of like her, so thank you. I just can’t help but feel… gross? I know we’ve talked about bringing someone else in, whether it’s for us both or just me but I just don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Like I said, no pressure.” He brings you closer in to him, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “Just think about it before you shut it out.”

For some reason, that last push of reassurance gave you butterflies in your stomach. “Okay, I will. Thank you, I love you.”

He leaned in impossibly close, his lips ghosting over yours, “You have no idea.”

[flowery-mess]

Uh oh okay🤭

I just…🫠🫠🫠

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[flowery-mess]

I really hope there is going to be part 2🤭

Just Don't Lie to Me ~ n.s

Summary: Noah’s girlfriend gets hit on at a bar while he’s off to the bathroom. Possessive Noah feels like reminding her of her place once they get home.

Warnings: possessive-ish Noah, dom!Noah!!!, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, mention of threesome, general rough sex (let me know if i’m forgetting anything)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s note: Hello, this is my first “post” on my new page! Feedback and thoughts are encouraged as I have not published anything in a very, very long time. As always, this is a fictional work about real people. This is entirely made up and for fun only!

Smut below. Minors DNI.

You were leaned over by the front door of your apartment, shuffling off your platform boots. 

“Listen, I have to say it one more time. She was flirting with you and I don’t believe for a second that you were unaware of it.” Noah said, arms crossed leaning against the kitchen island wearing a playful smirk.

“I swear, I would’ve known if she was flirting and she was definitely just being a drunk girl spewing compliments while she waiting on her drink.” 

Although, you had really hoped she was flirting. Even though you shouldn’t have.

And honestly, it definitely had felt like she was flirting, hard.

*Earlier that night*

You were at one of your usual dive bar spots, waiting on Noah to get back from the bathroom. Feeling a little awkward and self-conscious about being alone for the interim, you kept pretending to check a message on your phone and stir your watered down drink.

“You know, if I had brought you here, there’s just no way I would leave you alone.” 

You looked to your left, and whether it was the alcohol catching up or the woman beside you, your head started to feel fuzzy. She had glossy, wavy, black hair to her hips, strong brown eyes decorated in winged black liner that bored into yours, and a radiating confidence about her. She smiled at you like she wanted to devour you and for a second, you thought about letting her.

“Hah, well that’s very cute but my boyfriend will be back in a second,” you slurped the last drop of your drink, sliding it to the other side of the bar.

“Well can’t I at least keep you company in the meantime? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a pretty girl taking care of his pretty girl while he left her alone. Plus, it looks like you need a drink.”

You hated yourself but you couldn’t help but feel flushed at this point. You’d always been attracted to everyone and were comfortable with attention from women. But this was wrong. You were ashamed that you were even entertaining her, but she was so captivating you couldn’t help but want to keep her around for as long as you could. 

As if she could sense the heat, she reached to tuck one of your ginger locks behind your ear so she could see you. It felt like you could melt at any second.

Shaking yourself out of your pathetic fantasy, you stepped away. “Listen, I really am flattered and you’re stunning and I’m sure a great person, but I really am waiting on my boyfriend to get back.”

She snickered and shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, heard loud and clear. I hope I wasn’t too pushy.” You shook your head at her as she started to turn to walk away. “But seriously, he better worship you like the goddess you are.”

You looked back down at the bar, similar to earlier but feeling antsy for an entirely different reason this time. You were feeling so many things: lust, guilt, shame. 

You sat there for another minute or two, lost in your thoughts until you jumped at that familiar hand on your back.

“What was that all about?” Noah leaned into your ear, the same ear that that mystery vixen had just touched a moment ago.

“Nothing. She was just making small talk while she waited on her drink.”

“She didn’t leave with a drink in her hand. She was flirting with you.” He smirked.

You felt like you got caught, even though you knew he was being playful. Feeling like lying to mask your shame, you spoke up. “No she was not. She walked up complimenting my back tattoo and wanted to know more about it because she’d been wanting to get hers done soon.

What a stupid, stupid lie. He’s gonna know you’re lying.

He huffed, “I’m sure she did compliment you, just looked like she was interested in more that tattoo artist recommendations.”

Oh God, how much had he seen? Of course he hadn’t been in the bathroom that entire time.

“C’mon babe you don’t have to be embarrassed to admit it if she was. I’m secure enough to know she can’t take you from me.” He put his hand under your chin and looked at you in a very possessive, but affirming way, 

“While I appreciate that, she wasn’t flirting with me, seriously. Look, can we just drop it? I’m ready for sweats and the couch.”

Noah smiled, pulling cash from his wallet, not wanting to bother waiting around for a copy of the tab, “Of course. Let’s get out of here.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the bar to wait outside for a ride-share home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baby, I saw the way she touched your hair, like the way I would touch your hair,” He raised his eyebrows, arms still crossed but stepping out closer to you now. “It’s okay that she was, I would too if I saw you alone, but why did you lie?”

Your guilt was eating you alive at this point. You and Noah had always allowed each other openness and transparency in all aspects in your relationship, and he knew that you had a history of primarily dating women romantically and sexually before meeting him.

“I’m sorry, but I just didn’t want to say anything about it because it kind of threw me off guard I guess.” You were starting to come around to the full truth but still feeling upset, crossing your arms now looking at your tights. 

He put one hand behind your neck, urging you to look up at him, and cupped his other hand on your upper arm.

“I don’t like when you lie to me, you know that. You can tell me anything, especially where it concerns your emotions.” He began to look at you with a more stern look in his eyes.

Sighing, you felt like you had disappointed him, which is what you had wanted to avoid altogether by avoiding the conversation. You rubbed your eyes for a second, then glanced back up, “What do you mean my emotions? It was a stranger giving me empty compliments.”

Noah took his hands off you, making you internally wince. “Angel, I don’t appreciate you pretending to be innocent in this. It’s obvious that you liked it. You won’t make eye contact with me and your skin is on fire.” He looks like he’s past the point of being patient, but you just can’t bring yourself to speak up.

“Just tell me what she said that got you so damn flustered baby.”

You grew hotter. Noah could call you any pet name in the book and it would make your skin heat up. You turned around, starting to walk past the living room toward the hall.

“She said that if she was with me that I would never be alone at a bar or something.” 

You kept walking to the bedroom, suddenly needing to change into more breathable clothing. You knew he was following you closely behind.

He laughed, he actually laughed at you. “And that’s what got you so hot and bothered?”

“Well it wasn’t just that, it- it was everything. She just came up to me, came on very strong, and kind of threw me for a loop. I guess I just haven’t been approached like that in a very long time and I’m sorry I reacted like that.” You sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, half expecting Noah to turn back around and walk out. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, resting one hand on his thigh and one hand on yours.

“Hey, I don’t want you to be ashamed for feeling anything that you feel. But I do need you to be honest with me if there’s anything on your mind. I don’t mind you having a fantasy, but don’t embarrass me by trying to keep it a secret from me, yes?” You knew he was right, and you felt even sillier now for trying to lie to him about anything in the first place.

“Yes,” you nodded at him. 

“Uh uh, yes what?” He began to tower back over you, his power looming around you, making you melt.

“Yes sir. I’ll never lie to you again. I was ashamed that I was flattered and I should have just been honest about it.” Tension was really starting to build up in you. You rubbed your thighs together, dying to relieve something. He moved to put one hand on your knee and then smiled down at you.

“Good girl. Now see, was that so hard to tell me?”

You shook your head and he pouted his lips and shook his too, mocking you.

“Now I would say that you and I have a very healthy relationship, wouldn’t you? But when you violate my trust by lying to me, it puts that health in jeopardy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, I do.” You knew what was next to soon come.

“You’re so sweet, my good girl. You know what I have to do now right?” He takes both of your wrists, pulling you to stand up. Then he moves his right hand to cup your face, holding you in place.

“I have to punish you for tonight. For lying to me, for embarrassing me. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do. I know I should be punished and I want you to punish me for what I did. I need you to take away all of the guilt and shame I have left. Please.”

You couldn’t believe you were being so vulnerable in this setting, even with Noah. You two had always had a very natural dominant/submissive relationship, first sexually and then in everyday life. But this time was weirdly more intimate, making you feel closer to him.

“Okay pup. You know what to do, take everything off.” He took his hands off of you, taking a step back and even putting his hands in his front pockets. God you loved when he wanted to take full control. He looked so sexy, jaw tensed, muscles bulged, hair rustled in his face.

You started sliding your top up over your ribs. The backless, black fitted top that had aided in your lies. You kept your eyes locked on him…God, he looked so fucking good like this. He looked back at you with blown pupils, his hands moving from his pockets to adjust his strained cock then meet at his front. There was something so carnal about that move and you couldn’t help but moan under your breath as you started to unzip and slide down your miniskirt. You knew when he finally put his hands on you he was going to destroy you, but you were becoming too impatient for touch to even care.

“Turn around.” As you turned, you felt his hand on your upper back, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed, urging you to catch yourself on your elbows. You looked back over your shoulders, his eyes burning holes through your back.

“Now turn over, let me see you.”

You complied immediately. You looked up at him doe-eyed, knees pulled up in some effort to hide from him. All of a sudden you were embarrassed, remembering you have forgotten about one little thing.

He smiled, flashing that wicked look. If he didn’t touch you soon, you were gonna fucking explode.

You were on your back, propped up on your elbows, just taking all of him in. In one swift move, his shirt was thrown over his head and onto the pile alongside your clothes. 

“Legs down. I said let me see you.”

Fuck. You slowly lowered your legs and let your feet rest on the wooden frame at the end of the bed.

“Spread them.”

Again, you obliged, instantly getting hot at the sight in front of you.

He unfolded his arms, reaching for both of your knees, looking right at your core.

“Flirting with someone at the bar, okay. That’s one thing. Not wearing any fucking panties in front of everyone and knowing how I feel about that. You’ve been a bad little pup tonight.” He starts to trail his right hand up your thigh, then his left hand. You knew the moment he got close enough he would feel how wet you were. Getting turned on because he was disappointed in you? How pathetic. 

“Promise I’ll get you more of these, yeah?” He had his hands on either side of the seam connecting the tights, hovering dangerously close to your folds. Being teased was worse punishment compared to whatever else he had planned.

“What did you just say?”

Oh fuck. Did you just say that out loud? He cocked an eyebrow at you, then suddenly ripped the tights apart. The cool air grazed your now exposed core, causing you to hiss just enough for him to hear it. 

“If teasing you is punishment, then why are you so fucking wet?” His fingers were dancing along your center now, lightly grazing your folds ever so often. “Is it because of me? Or are you thinking about her?”

What? You shook your head at him. “No don’t be ridiculous. It’s just… embarrassing sometimes.”

He tilted his head, urging you to keep talking, his fingers now daring to slide up and down your folds.

“You just- you just make me feel too good—Oh God.” You were cut off by an involuntary moan, caused by him slamming two fingers into you. As blissful as you felt, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for tonight.

“Can I?” You sat up as straight as you could manage and nodded to his belt.

“Mhm.” He smiled, smiled, down at you. “Thank you for asking, good girl.” You were so close to the edge, and just like that, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up close to his mouth. Even though a part of you knew you had that coming, your jaw still dropped completely open.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know you aren’t getting to cum tonight. Go ahead and take it out.” He took those fingers into his mouth, moaning around them.

You got to work, unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning his pants. You paused to look up at him, and you could have lost your mind at the sight. 

He was looking down at you, hands now behind his back, signaling he wasn’t going to help you with anything. But he also looked at you with admiration, like he was proud of you. Not breaking eye contact, you unzipped his pants, then pulled them down to above his knees. Like muscle memory, you went straight for the waistband of his boxers, pulling down with no hesitation. His cock sprung free, and you looked away only to take it in for a moment.

He was gorgeous, cock flush against his stomach, angry and red. You took full control, pushing him back far enough so that you could get off the bed and onto your knees on the floor. In the next moment you had one hand on him and your mouth on his head. You immediately started moving both together up and down on his hard length, and you could tell he was already worked up. Glancing up through your eyelashes at him, you hollowed your cheeks. knowing this would pull more moans from him. If you were being honest, you were trying to pull out all the stops early on in hopes he would fuck you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to cum but fuck did you need some relief. The way he was so domineering yet also falling apart into you was enough to make you explode at any second.

“Fuck baby, if you keep that up—fuck.” He grabs your shoulders and pulls himself out and lifts you up onto the bed.

“Stomach, now.” You took the order before he even finished speaking, smiling to yourself thinking about what would come next. As if sensing your mischief, he yanks a fistful of your back back, enough to see your face clearly. 

“I’m gonna use you and show you how much you belong to me. I’m gonna fill you up and the second that you even think about cumming, you tell me. Yes?”

“Yes.” He pulled your hair harder. “Yes sir, use me, please.”

He released your hair and brought the same hand down, hard across your left cheek, then grabbed it before placing his other hand on your right cheek. He slowly spread them apart, the cool air hitting your core once again. You felt him spit on your center—like you even needed it—but fuck did you love when he did that. You had a feeling he was gonna be sloppy and filthy and the thought alone almost brought you to your climax. In one swift motion, he spread his spit along your slit and rammed his cock in to the hilt. You moaned into the pillow beneath you, until he pulled in from underneath you, tossing it off the bed.

“Unh uh. Let me hear you.” So you did.

With every thrust you were moaning and babbling, so cock drunk you couldn’t string a full sentence together.

“Getting closer pup. Help Sir out.”

You knew the second you clenched yourself around him he would collapse. Still crying and moaning you squeezed around him, earning a hiss from his throat, making you giggle underneath him. 

He started moving faster, placing one hand on your ass and the other on the back of your head, pressing you further into the mattress. 

“Mmm. Gonna fill you up now.” You tried nodding in acknowledgment, telling him you were ready.

He started to fill you, pumping his cum deeper into you as he released. “Good girl, you take it so well for me.”

He stopped moving, staying inside of you for just a while longer. He came down to kiss the top of your head, pressing himself entirely on you.

You two laid like that for a minute until you broke the silence. “I really am sorry about earlier, you know?”

“I know. Just don’t lie to me, okay?” 

“I promise.”

“Okay, well let’s get cleaned up. I’ll run us a bath.” You groaned as he pulled out of you and got up, stopping to place a kiss on your hand before walking into the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This had to be one of your favorite places in the world. Your back to Noah’s chest with your head in the crook of his neck. You were fading in and out of it, a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You had long since washed each other off, and now you were just enjoying each other’s warmth.

“Hey baby?” His question was soft in your ear.

“Hmm?” You may have had your eyes closed and remained curled up, but he had your full attention. 

“I did get her number for your earlier, the one who flirted with you.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you shot up, turning to face him. “You what? No you didn’t?”

He looked down, nodding. “Yeah, I did. When I saw her walk off from you I walked over to introduce myself, and one thing led to another.” 

“What? What do you mean one thing led to another? How did you even do that without me noticing?” You felt so confused, not betrayed or mad, but puzzled his by actions.

“Well it’s no secret that there was something there—I saw the conversation from basically the beginning. And we’ve discussed the possibility of you bringing someone in. Forgive me but you aren’t exactly forward, so I went over to her.” 

You felt slightly defensive, but also insanely aroused again. “What did you say to her?”

“I introduced myself and told her I saw her talking to my girlfriend, she was immediately apologetic, then I was pretty up front about thinking that you might like to see her sometime if she was into it. She did seem a little caught off guard, but gave me her number anyway and said she’d love to hear from you if you ever wanted to get to know one another.” 

You couldn’t help but feel conflicted. You had been honest in the past that you wanted to bring another woman in from time to time and Noah would do just about anything to keep you satisfied. You also felt guilty, like in some way he was orchestrating your infidelity or something.

“Hey,” he grabbed both sides of your face, forcing you to focus in on him. “I can see your brain going 100 different directions. Don’t do that. I merely didn’t want you to lose out on a possible connection with someone so I interjected. I also don’t want you thinking I’ll be upset in any way. I’m here to be whatever you need me to be. There is no pressure to reach out at all if you don’t want to. After all, you are the one with all of the power.”

You nodded into his hands, he was right. “Well…. you are right I never would have done that on my own, and I did kind of like her, so thank you. I just can’t help but feel… gross? I know we’ve talked about bringing someone else in, whether it’s for us both or just me but I just don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Like I said, no pressure.” He brings you closer in to him, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “Just think about it before you shut it out.”

For some reason, that last push of reassurance gave you butterflies in your stomach. “Okay, I will. Thank you, I love you.”

He leaned in impossibly close, his lips ghosting over yours, “You have no idea.”

[flowery-mess]

“I didn’t know you could do that”

Why is that so funny😂

But reading this at work felt illegal🤭

The man would be obsessed and no doubt would make it his mission to get you to do it every single time and he wouldn’t come back up until he was covered and looked like he just stepped out the shower 👀💦

🫠

do you have any blurbs or hcs about N liking squirting? i need more of this 🥵

I don’t but here’s a little blurb for you now ☺️

The first time you squirt, he goes absolutely still for a second, just stares at the mess in between yours thighs with something close to awe.

“I didn’t know you could do that”

You’re panting, shaking and you try to pull away blushing.

But he catches your thighs and drags you back down and hooks his strong arms around you.

“No, no, no. Don’t run away from me angel”

It becomes his mission after that.

He needs to see it, feel it, drown in it. He’ll edge you over and over with his fingers, his tongue, the head of his cock, whispering encouragement while the sheets get ruined underneath you.

“That’s it. Just like that, fuck….soak me again. I want it all, baby”

Doesn’t care how messy it gets. In fact, he prefers it that way.

If he ends up with it dripping down his chest, chin, thighs? Even better, he’ll lick it off and groan like it’s his favourite meal.

By the end of it you’re dazed, thighs shaking, begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

And he just kisses your stomach and inner thighs while whispering “Just one more…I know you have it in you baby”

[flowery-mess]

This fic is for a fact driving me insane, I no longer know what the fuck is going on, just like the reader. But I love it

drive you insane | noah sebastian | 14

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. noah sebastian X psychiatrist!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships.

Wounds that go untouched also rot.

The armchair you sit in is lower than his. Deliberately. The leather creaks under your weight as you cross your legs, and the sound seems to echo through the room, as if the gesture carried something indecent — an intimacy even you can’t quite grasp.

Dr. Rune watches in silence. His eyes don’t look at you the way a psychiatrist looks at a patient. There’s something feral there, too contained to go unnoticed. As if every word he lets slip has already been filtered, weighed, censored — not by professional ethics, but by guilt.

You feel it. You feel it when he analyzes you. When his gaze drags over your hands — still stained with smudges of ink and bruises — and lingers on the line of your jaw, which you keep lifted as if daring the world to collapse first.

The office feels smaller than it should. Too warm, stifling.

You try to hide the tremble in your fingers as you rest your elbow on the armrest.

“Have you been sleeping?” he asks at last. The voice is deep. Precise. That unbearable calm of someone harboring too many secrets.

“More than I should,” you reply with a crooked smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Or less than I realize. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

Rune writes something in his notepad. His eyes never leave you. It’s as if he’s studying you with a restrained hunger. Not for you. But for what you represent. For what he knows.

For what you don’t yet know about yourself.

“And the... hallucinations? Are they still happening?”

You hesitate. Your hand moves restlessly across your covered thigh. The way your teeth catch your bottom lip, for a moment, is almost sensual — but also tragic. Almost as if pleasure and dread now share the same frequency in your body.

“If I say no... will you call me a liar?”

Rune leans forward slightly. The tension between you grows like steam trapped behind steel bars.

“I’m not here to judge. You know that.”

You let out a short, sharp laugh and look at him with a disconcerting intensity.

“No, Dr. Rune. You’re here because he wanted you here. Because deep down, Steve trusts you more than he trusts me. And maybe... maybe I do too.”

Silence. Heavy. He closes the notepad slowly.

“Do you know why he chose me?”

You smile. A sick kind of smile. You know.

Rune presses his lips together, eyes shadowed. The office is hot. Too quiet. And for the first time, you feel like you could slip. Like you’re being pushed — gently, mercilessly — inward.

Into yourself.

Into him.

You don’t look away. And neither does he. For a second — or maybe more — the room disappears. The whole world seems trapped in the space between your eyes and his. A silence not empty, but crowded with meaning.

Rune tilts his head slightly, as if studying a work of art about to crack.

“That feeling of being watched — does it still happen?” he asks, his voice like velvet folded over broken glass.

You inhale deeply, as if breathing in something dense, almost viscous.

“No. It’s different now.”

“Different how?”

“It used to feel like I was being watched. Now... it’s like someone is inside me. Like I’m... split.”

Rune doesn’t write. He just watches you, and that’s what unsettles you. He doesn’t react with surprise, doesn’t feign concern. It’s as if he knows.

As if he’s always known.

“Are you afraid?”

You smile again, but there’s something wrong with it. A smile cracked, melancholic.

“Fear is a house. Sometimes, we live in it for so long that it starts to feel comfortable.”

Rune leans back, fingers interlaced in front of his mouth, eyes fixed on your face. The way he breathes, slowly, suggests restraint — or maybe a desire to say what he shouldn’t.

“And when you’re alone... do you still feel like you’re you?”

Your body hesitates and your fingers touch your own pulse, as if checking if you’re still there, beating in the right rhythm.

“There are voices. But not like before. Now they’re... memories I’m not sure I lived. Thoughts that don’t feel like mine. Sensations that come out of nowhere, like chills on someone else’s skin. Sometimes I wake up with the taste of blood in my mouth. Sometimes with perfume on the pillow. And sometimes,” you lean forward, just a bit too much, “sometimes I wake up with a sadness so deep I’m sure it doesn’t belong to me.”

Rune doesn’t move. But there’s something in his eyes that flickers. An almost imperceptible moment — but you catch it.

“Have you ever felt that, doctor?” you whisper. “Like something inside you is breaking, but you don’t know what you’ve lost?”

The silence weighs like steel. His hand reaches for a glass of water on the table, but he doesn’t drink. He just holds it. Something in his posture screams restraint — or regret. Or fear.

You still don’t know.

“Sometimes,” he replies at last. “The mind creates voids to survive. But the void isn’t always a hole. Sometimes... it’s a mirror.”

You look at him. Lips tighten. The tension between you hits a point where it feels like something might break — not with a scream, but with a touch. With the brush of fingers. With a gesture far too wrong to be ethical.

“And what if the mirror shows me something I don’t want to see?” you murmur, almost a confession.

Rune leans forward, elbows on knees, and for the first time he seems less doctor and more man. A man exhausted.

A man about to drown with you.

“Then maybe... it’s time to stop running.”

You tilt your head. A strand of hair slips down your cheek and falls onto your collarbone. You don’t brush it away. You just feel it there, as if everything is being watched, absorbed.

“Is that what I’ve been doing? Running?”

“What you’ve been doing... is trying to survive what you don’t yet understand.”

You fall silent.

The sentence echoes inside you like a familiar whisper. Like a memory. Like something that may not have been said by him — but by another voice, in another time. Or another part of her. At last, you stand. And he doesn’t stop you. But he doesn’t say goodbye either.

Before leaving, you cast him one final glance over your shoulder.

“Thank you, Dr. Rune.”

“For what?”

You smile. A bitter, intimate smile, almost... conspiratorial.

“For not looking at me with fear. Not yet.”

And then you leave, leaving behind the echo of something that doesn’t have a name yet, but has already begun to move inside. The smell of old paper and disinfectant greeted you before the door even finished creaking open. It was early, earlier than usual.

Grimshade’s main hallway still yawned in shadows, as if the building hadn’t fully awakened — or maybe it never slept.

You crossed the hall with measured steps, trying to silence the echo, as if you were trespassing inside yourself. The weight of the session with Rune still pressed against your ribs, but you pretended it didn’t. That it was just another day.

The key turned with difficulty in the lock of your own office. The wood gave way with a dry crack. Everything seemed in order — chair in place, curtains half-drawn, your favorite pen resting in the center of the desk. But there was something... off. A subtle cold that didn’t come from the weather.

Your gaze fell on the beige folder resting on the desk.

Your file.

Open.

You hadn’t left it that way.

You swallowed hard. Your hands hesitated for a second, but moved on their own, flipping through pages you knew by heart until your eyes stopped on a sheet that shouldn’t exist.

It was a clinical assessment.

With your name at the top.

With your signature at the bottom.

Your stomach clenched before you even began to read. The text, written with almost surgical precision, read:

Clinical observations: Patient presents recurring signs of persecutory delusion, episodes of identity confusion, and significant memory lapses. Displays patterns of dissociative hypergraphia, filling notebooks and notes with incompatible handwriting.

Containment in a controlled environment is advised, with constant monitoring, due to the possibility of psychotic deterioration and self-harming behavior disguised as clinical rituals.

Responsible signature: Dra.

The blood drained from your fingers. You couldn’t take your eyes off the paper. The stamp was real. The handwriting — it was yours. But you hadn’t written it. You didn’t remember.

And then came the worst part:

You recognized the writing style.

Not just recognized — you yourself used similar phrases in other patients’ reports.

Technical terms, precise organization. And there was something else...

Something in the tone of that analysis that seemed to come from outside. As if someone had observed you from the inside.

Your hand moved to the edge of the sheet, slowly, as if it could tear it from time. But on the back of the page — in red — there was a single sentence:

“You’re not the only one living in there.”

The hallway seemed longer.

The overhead lights flickered in cold tones as you walked briskly, clutching the folder to your chest as if carrying forbidden evidence — or your own heart. You passed straight through the patients' wing, ignoring the restless gazes of a few who’d woken too early. Your focus was clear: the surveillance room.

You knocked on the metal door twice before turning the handle. The guard on duty looked up from his coffee and raised his eyebrows.

“Doctor? Do you need something?”

“I need to review last night’s footage. The hallway cameras in the psychiatric wing,” you said, dryly, directly, with a control that sounded forced even to yourself.

The man cleared his throat.

“Did something happen?”

You hesitated. You wanted to say “yes, someone broke into my office,” but that implied you’d lost control of your own space. You wanted to say “I think someone’s spying on me,” but that would sound exactly like the cases you treat.

“There’s an inconsistency in the records. I just want to check.” He watched you for a second longer than necessary — then shrugged.

“Alright. Just a moment.”

You watched him type something into the old terminal, the keyboard clacking like a warning. He pulled up the footage from the hallway camera on the second floor — the one facing your office door.

The screen flickered in black and white. Static, grainy images began to play.

11:45 PM. Empty hallway. 11:52 PM. Nothing. 12:08 AM. A figure approaching the door.

You leaned forward, blood pounding in your ears.

The figure came into full view. Slow steps. Hands in the pockets of a lab coat.

It was you.

“Pause it,” you said, swallowing hard. “Rewind a little... stop there.”

The image froze at the exact moment the woman on the screen looked straight at the camera, before opening the door with the key. You were alone.

Unhurried.

Without hesitation.

“Does the system log which card was used to open the door?” you asked, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“Yes. Just a second...”

The man typed a few commands. A new panel appeared, displaying the access card log.

Authenticated: 685922 Time: 00:08:14 Door: Office 2B

You recoiled as if slapped.

“Is there... is there a way to check another camera? An internal one, maybe?”

The guard nodded and pulled up the footage from the office camera — one you had requested yourself before, for security reasons. The image appeared in black and white.

The figure entered, dropped the folder on the desk, turned on the lamp. Pulled out a sheet. Wrote.

Minutes later, sat in the chair — the same one you were in now — and continued writing, in silence, for nearly forty minutes.

As if drafting another patient’s report.

As if it were just another ordinary night.

And in the end, stood up. Left the sheet face up. Turned off the lamp.

And left.

You didn’t remember any of it.

But there it was.

The proof. The image. The signature. The access. Everything. You had written your own file.

“Doctor...” the guard began, concerned.

“Could you step out of the room for a moment?” you whispered. He hesitated, but left.

You stayed there, staring at your frozen image on the screen. With your heart pounding and a terrible certainty pulsing in your temples.

If that was a fabrication, it was flawless.

And if it wasn’t... ...then maybe you really were starting to disappear inside yourself.

The late afternoon dragged on over Grimshade, spilling a sepia light across the sanatorium’s arid hills. You walked with dragging steps through the inner garden, a patch of dry earth surrounded by sickly ivy and benches corroded by time. It was supposed to be a resting area.

For you, it was the only place where the world seemed suspended — as if nothing there was real.

The air smelled of iron and rotting lavender.

You wandered aimlessly until you stopped before a hole dug in the farthest corner. The spot Noah used to visit often, kneeling in the dirt like a bored child, digging with bare hands as if searching for invisible roots.

You knelt too.

Something beneath the soil caught your attention — a dull glimmer, like tiny grey scales. You dug with your hands. The earth gave way easily, as if it were hollow underneath.

And then you saw it.

Hundreds of capsules. All colors. Some still clinging to damp soil, others split in half.

Your stomach turned. They were pills. Sedatives. Antipsychotics. Mood stabilizers.

Drugs you knew. That you prescribed.

You felt a wave of vertigo rising from your stomach to your skull. The world spun.

The garden distorted. The ground began to breathe. The trees shuddered as if laughing at you.

The pills multiplied.

And you fell backward.

The sky darkened in a blink. Your body lost its weight. Time split in half.

The world faded into silence.

There was no fall, no sound of impact. Just a dry shut-off, as if someone had pulled the plug of reality out of the socket, and it simply… ceased to exist.

When the eyes opened again, the white light blinded her for an instant. There were no shadows. There was no ceiling — at least none she could identify. Everything around was smooth, without marks or reference points — a pale, endless nothing.

The floor, cold beneath her back, was familiar. The icy texture of the tiles, the grooves between the pieces… she knew that floor. It took her a while to recognize she was lying on the floor of her own office.

But something was wrong. There was an artificial stillness in the air, as if the space were suspended inside a bubble, outside of time. You tried to get up, your trembling hands slipping on the damp floor.

The lab coat weighed on your shoulders, stuck to your body with an unpleasant stickiness. You looked down. The sleeves were stained with dark red. A thick red, almost black. Blood. Or paint. The smell was metallic and acrid, but not exactly human.

Instinctively, you brought your fingers to your face, smearing your own skin. The taste that reached your tongue was bitter. Rust and something else… old pen ink? Your mind wavered between explanations. But none seemed plausible. None seemed… real.

You stood up with effort, staggering toward the desk. The wall clock was frozen, the hands stuck between two seconds that never arrived. You turned to the mirror in the corner of the room, as if needing to confirm that you were still… you. What you saw made your stomach sink.

Your reflection wore the beige uniform of the sanatorium’s patients.

No lab coat. No authority.

Hair tied in a messy bun. Sunken, bloodshot eyes, like you hadn’t slept in days. Your hands, covered in paint or blood, held… nothing.

Empty.

But worse than the image was what came next: the reflection didn’t mimic you.

While you remained still, frozen, the figure in the mirror slowly tilted its head to the side, like someone observing a cornered animal. A nearly imperceptible smile curved the image’s lips, too subtle to be confident — and yet, terrifyingly intimate. As if saying: “I know.”

You jumped back. Blinked. The reflection returned to normal.

Lab coat. Open eyes. Hair aligned.

But the office didn’t.

The walls now trembled with a muffled whisper. A scratched sound that seemed to come from within the bricks. The window curtain swayed with a non-existent wind. And in the back, for a moment, you saw — or thought you saw — a shadow sitting in the chair where you received your patients.

Noah.

Or something that looked like him.

The silhouette was there, still, the face unfocused, blurred like an erased drawing. When you blinked, the chair was empty.

Your mind screamed to get out. To flee from that place that was once your refuge, now turned into a distorted version of itself. Your fingers dug into the roots of your hair and a shrill scream tore through your throat as if the confusion and the fever of your mind could match your agony.

But your legs were stuck to the floor.

Then came the voice.

Not external. Not in the air. But inside the skull, as if it sprouted from the walls of the bone itself:

“You’re not the only one living in there.”

The phrase dragged like an intrusive thought, a worm burrowing into the mind. The floor spun. The office dissolved at the edges of your vision.

And everything went dark again.

Night had fallen without you noticing.

There was no visible transition — just the sudden darkness that took over the sky through the windowpane. You realized it only when you were already sitting on the bed, wrapped in a concrete silence, almost viscous. The room, usually your refuge, now felt too small. The walls seemed curved, as if the space were slowly being compressed around you.

Your sweaty hands rested on your knees. Your fingers trembled with a strange electric impulse, as if on the verge of some action you didn’t yet understand. Your whole body was alert. But you didn’t know for what.

Breathing came in short waves.

The heart — racing.

The sound of the clock — nonexistent.

It had stopped. Again.

That’s when the impulse took over.

Without consciously deciding, you stood and walked to the desk with automatic steps. Sat down. Picked up the pen. Opened the notebook — the same one you had tried to discard the week before, but that always returned to the shelf, as if it had a will of its own.

And you began to write.

The words flowed like a trance. Fast, without apparent logic. It wasn’t you who was thinking. It was… something else. Another voice. An urgency that burned your fingers and guided the strokes. The handwriting was irregular, aggressive. Sometimes firm. Other times frantic, as if each letter had to be born tearing through the page. You didn’t know how much time had passed.

Only when you stopped — hand tired, throat dry, eyes heavy — did you look at what you had written.

A letter.

The paper trembled between your fingers, but the words were there, clear. Each line sounded like a farewell.

“If you’re reading this,

it’s because I’m back in control.”

Your hands slipped from the paper. Your stomach twisted. Your throat closed.

You scanned the text with your eyes, slowly, absorbing each syllable as if they were blades sinking into your skin. Phrases about giving up, exhaustion, confusion… apologies. Promises that you would be safe now. That this was to protect you. Words so intimate they hurt more than any scream.

“You fought so hard.

I saw.

But now… you need to rest.”

And then, at the end, beneath it all — where your name should have been — was his signature.

Noah.

It was his handwriting. Unmistakable.

She knew that slanted N. The way the “h” always intruded into the space of the line below.

The blood drained from your face. You stared at the signature as if facing an epitaph. And just below it, the final sentence:

“Please… don’t fight anymore.”

The words echoed inside your mind like a whisper spoken right against the nape of your neck.

Warm.

Intimate.

Final.

You pushed the chair back in shock, but something stopped you from screaming. There was no strength. No questions. No logic. Just the absolute silence of someone who realizes, deep down, that something was lost there.

And maybe… will never return.

⭑ @bloody-spades ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby ; @flowery-mess ; @youcanreadmy-mind ; @tikosblogg ; @gothic-pumpkin ; @badomensls ; @themorticians-world ; @99png ;

[flowery-mess]

You could see his face turn into a frown though, when he noticed his father was not sitting beside you.

🥺🥺🥺🥺

You: Not really. Just let him know he's missing his son's school play.

Oh damn

"Maybe it runs in the family, and you're probably wondering why you even had a kid with me in the first place"

Noo Noah baby noo🥺

Hello! I come with angst ideas for Ex Husband!Noah.

So.

For context they’re still married at this point.

Ezra’s school is putting on a show (like an end of the school year or a Christmas show?) and he’s like SUUUPER excited about it.

He’s been practicing his lines every day. He only has a small part but he doesn’t care.

Noah promises he’s going to be there but he’s not home yet when it’s time to leave to head to the school to watch it.

You take your seat and there’s an empty one beside you.

The show starts and Noah still isn’t there.

You can’t help but notice the devastation in Ezra’s face that’s mixed with hope as he watches the door at the back just in case he comes in.

You confront Noah when you’re home.

LOVE YOU! And love this au!

Wow, you really came through with this angst!!! I love this so much. I feel like even though Noah is a great dad, sometimes, parents just slip and end up doing not nice things. I'd say this is definitely something that haunts Noah to this day. Especially because he's had to miss more school plays and events due to his job.

Anyway, here's a little something about how this went down when they were still married. Thanks agains for sending this in <3 Love ya!!!!

Warnings: me not knowing how school plays work lol angst, exwife is a little angry, but things end as well as they can.

WC: 2.5k words. (not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

You were honestly grateful Ezra's school play was happening today. Even though you loved how excited and happy he was about it, getting to hear a play by play on how theater practice is going kind of took a toll on you. You'd never tell him this, though, so you'd just let the kid ramble on for hours on end.

"And that's because he's the tree. Which is unmovable and has no lines. Imagine if he gets a main role one day", Noah pointed out once, as you were laying in bed at the end of the day.

"At least he's dedicated. Main role or not", you said. "I bet he's gonna be the best unmovable tree, though"

"Of course he is. He's my son and we don't do things half assed", you snorted at this because it's absolutely true. Noah went above and beyond even for things with little significance at the and of the day, and you expected your son to be no different.

Right now, you were getting ready to attend the school play. You had dropped off Ezra early at school, so him, the other kids, and the teachers could get everything ready on time, and make sure all the kids were set.

You had agreed with Noah to meet him there, since he had band practice and it would run a little bit late and he wouldn't have time to come home and get ready with you.

It was nearing 6pm and you texted him saying you'd leave in about twenty minutes, and you'd save him a seat beside you for when he arrived.

When you got no answer, you thought it was odd, but didn't dwell on it too much. He must be busy at the moment and couldn't check his phone.

You grabbed your stuff and headed out, texting him on the way to the school once again.

Still no answer.

You waited until you were parked at the school parking lot to call him, instead of texting, but it just went straight to voicemail. You decided to leave him a message.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm already here. Are you on your way? Text me when you can"

Hanging up the phone, you had a strange feeling pooling in your belly, but you pushed it aside. He was gonna be here. He had to be here. Ezra was talking about this school play for weeks, there's no way Noah wouldn't be here for it.

Locking your car, you made your way to the school theater. Finding a place towards the front, you sat down and placed your bag on the seat beside you.

The play would start in about forty minutes, and during that time, you guess you've called Noah more than ten times. At this point, you were getting agitated, a nervousness settled deep in your stomach, and you started to get antsy.

When the lights dimmed, and the music started to play, it dawned on you. Noah wasn't coming.

Trying one more time, and still without success, you decided you wouldn't call him again.

Your mind went a hundred miles a minute, thinking about all of the things that could've happened that would prevent Noah from being here. You even though about the worst case scenarios, but brushed it off as soon as it came to your mind. Bad new traveled fast, and if something had happened to him, you'd surely know by now.

Ezra came into play, his little face poking through a hole in the tree costume, and you smiled when he spotted you in the crowd. You could see his face turn into a frown though, when he noticed his father was not sitting beside you. You just waved at him, trying to act nonchalant.

Throughout the play, you'd be lying to say you were paying attention. You didn't know if you felt anger, concern or disappointment. You guess it was a mixture of all three.

About thirty minutes into the play, you turned your phone brightness all the way down, so people wouldn't notice you on your phone, and decided to text Ruffilo.

You: Hey, Nick. You know where Noah is?

You waited a few minutes for his replay. Heart beating fast.

Ruff: Hey, Y/N.

Ruff: Yeah, we're hanging at Matt's place. I think Noah's phone is dead, though.

Ruff: You wanna talk to him?

You stared at the text messages in complete disbelief. He was hanging at Matt's place? Hanging with his buddies instead of being here for his son?

You'd love to know what excuse he'd come up with.

You: Not really. Just let him know he's missing his son's school play.

You locked your phone, and you could tell the play was about to wrap up, as the main characters delivered the last lines, and in a couple of minutes, everyone was standing up and clapping, as the kids bowed on stage.

You felt your phone vibrate and looked at the screen.

Ruff: Shit.

Shit indeed, you thought to yourself, as you sat down once again to wait for Ezra to come and find you. He just had to take his costume off and change back into his clothes.

It didn't take long before he appeared on the side of the stage, one of the teachers holding his hand as he looked for you. Standing up, you waved, and he came walking towards you as soon as he spot you.

He came walking. Not running, as you expected.

"Where's daddy?", he asked you, as you crouched down to his level. He had a deep frown on his face.

"Hi, baby", you greeted him, smoothing his hair that was growing to be long like his father's. "Daddy got sick, sweetheart. He couldn't be here. I'm sorry"

You hated lying to Ezra, and you didn't do it often at all, if ever. But, this time, you guess it would be better to not tell him the truth, instead of saying his father completely forgot about his school play.

"What does daddy have?", Ezra asked.

"I think it's just a stomach bug, buddy. He'll be fine soon, don't worry", you reassured him, but his demeanor didn't change, or get better.

"Can we go home? I'm tired", he said, reaching his arms up for you, and you picked him up. You couldn't help but notice he was getting too big for you to carry him, and you'd soon had to stop.

"Of course we can", you said, threading your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head down on your shoulder.

You wanted to cry. You hated seeing your son sad.

Walking with him to the parking lot, a bunch of parents were walking to their own cars with their kids, and you greeted some of them on the way, recognizing them as parents from Ezra's class.

Strapping him in his booster seat, you got in the driver's seat yourself and started the drive home.

Observing him through the inside rearview mirror, you noticed that halfway home, Ezra dozed off and took a nap.

There's no way he'd eat something, or take a bath, before going to bed today.

Arriving home, you took him in your arms once again, struggling with the key to the door a little, but finally able to get it open. You walked with him to his bedroom, setting him on his bed, where he sat, rubbing his eyes and looking extra sleepy.

"You wanna eat something?", you asked, and he shook his head no. "A warm bath?", he shook his head no once again. "Ok, then, I know you're tired, so tonight, you can go straight to bed"

Walking towards his dresser, you opened the pajama drawer.

"You want the dinosaur, or the robots pajama?"

"Dinosaur"

You nodded and grabbed the dinosaur pajama and helped him into them, and in no time, he was snuggled under the blanket. You waited a few minutes, until his breaths evened out and you were sure he had fallen asleep.

While you waited, you heard the front door open, so you got up from your spot on the bed, closed the door behind you, and made your way to the living room.

You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Noah locking the door behind him. Turning around to face you, you swear you've never seen a guiltier face in you entire life.

"Y/N...", he started, but you cut him off. Much to his dismay, you had a lot of time to simmer in your anger on the drive back home.

"I honestly don't even wanna look at you right now. Let alone hear whatever stupid excuse you're gonna come up with", you told him, coldness and a tinge of anger seeping into your voice. He can tell you're holding back on him.

"I don't have an excuse", he said, looking down, and when he looked back at you, you could see his watery eyes reflecting in the lights coming from outside the window.

"I don't know if that's better or worse", you pointed out.

"I just", he said, taking a long breath. "I just forgot. I don't know what happened, but I just forgot"

You don't know if you should feel any better about his honesty and the fact that he didn't try to come up with a false reason for not being there.

"You forgot about the play he's been telling us about for the past, I don't know, month?", you question him, incredulous.

"I just forgot, ok? I don't know what else to say", he told you, visibly getting frustrated at the situation and at himself.

"You don't get to be fucking angry and pissy here, alright?", you say, trying not to raise your voice, pointing a finger at him. "You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day so you can explain yourself"

You don't give him a chance to reply, as you start to make your way to the kitchen to grab your nightly glass of water. You can hear him trailing behind you, though.

"I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to forget about it", his voice was meek and a little shaky.

"It's not me you should be apologizing for. It's your son", you grab your glass of water and start to make your way to your shared bedroom, when you stop in your tracks and turn back to him. "I told him you were sick. So, when he asks, just go with the story"

This time, you disappear down the hallway to your bedroom.

You go through you nighttime routine and Noah doesn't come in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. He knows to give you some space and time when you're angry. Especially when you're angry at him.

You turn off the lamp and slip under the blankets, but sleep doesn't find you so easily. Instead, you toss and turn in bed, and, as you lay there, you slowly start to feel the anger slipping away from your bones.

Tomorrow is gonna be a new day, and you couldn't hold this over his head forever, anyway.

After ten more minutes, the door opens and Noah comes into the bedroom. He quietly does his thing in the bathroom, and changes into his sleep clothes. He doesn't say anything, even though he can tell you're awake.

It's when he lays down in bed with you, that it all comes crashing down.

It starts off with quiet sniffles, that soon turn into full body sobs, as he tries to even out his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes.

You come out of mom mode, and instead, you decide to be the partner he needs right now.

Turning on your side, you wrap your arms around him, and he rests his head on your shoulder, his cries not letting up.

"I'm such a shitty father. How can I fucking forget my son's school play?"

"You're not a shitty father. What happened today wasn't nice, but it doesn't define you as a father", you tell him, honestly, but you can tell it's gonna take more for him to understand that.

"Yes, I am. I try so hard to not fuck up but it happens anyways. Maybe it runs in the family, and you're probably wondering why you even had a kid with me in the first place"

This time, you sit up in bed, and you prompt him to sit up with you. Taking his head in your hands, you make him look you in the eye. His tear-stained face looks back at you, as fresh tears still slip down his cheeks.

"That's something I won't tolerate", you tell him, with a firm, but gentle tone. You needed him to understand this. "I never thought twice about having a baby with you, and I wouldn't think twice about having another one", you said, taking a few seconds for him to comprehend your words. "Again, this does not define you as a father, and, honestly? This is not the only shitty thing that'll happen. We have Ezra's whole life ahead of us, and we're bound to mess up from time to time. But what matters is that we're trying. And we're doing damn well so far"

He's calmed down by now, as he listens to what you're saying. You've always had the ability to ease his nerves, even in situations like this.

"Ezra is so loved by both of us, this was just a little bump on the road, ok?", you asked and he nodded.

"Thank you", he said, voice low and throat raspy from the force of his cries.

"You don't have to thank me. You know I love you forever, right? And we're doing this together"

"I love you so much", he intertwined his hands with yours and kissed the back of your hand. "Can Ezra sleep with us tonight?", he asks and you nod in agreement.

"Go get him. He'll love to see you"

As Noah left the bedroom to get Ezra, you thought over the events of today.

You knew what happened was far from ideal, but like you told Noah, it does not reflect who he is as a father. Besides, shit is bound to happen, and you're sure you're going to mess up as well sometime in the future. It was all about how you decided to handle it. And you handled it like you and Noah always did. Together.

A few minutes later, Noah comes back with a drowsy, but happy looking Ezra in his arms. And, as they both lay down, with the little on in the middle, Ezra turns to you and whispers.

"Daddy's not feeling so great tonight, mommy. So I'll cuddle him with him instead of you, ok?", he asks, and you get a little amused.

"That's fine, baby", you agree, heart swelling with pride at how considerate and kind your son is.

And that's how you fall asleep. Ezra tucked under Noah's arm that is stretched under his son's head, caressing your hair softly, a silent apology, as you look at him, giving a smile and a little nod, telling him you're accepting it.

Tag List: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mysterygirl-srl @lacy1986 @dream-machine-love @theanarchymuse95 @missduffsblog @xmads-omensx @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @pipidoll @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @kissestomyomens @hedonist-k1l @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @daemontargaryenwife @h0riz0nsiren @astronoids @flowery-mess @renegadebirch @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @jesuisunchaton @carrieontillmay @bloody-spades @amelia-acero @death-ofpeace-ofmind @saythatuwill

If you haven't been tagged, it's because your blog doesn't mention your age, or it is empty!

[flowery-mess]

It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter - n.s. - bonus scene.

The morning after.

Warnings: 18+ smut (fingering female receiving) and fluffly goodness. These two are so in love it literally hurts.

WC: 2.7k words. (not proofread, sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

Noah awoke with the morning sun filtering in through the curtains. It takes him a while to gather his bearings - and the fact that he's still naked - before he starts rubbing his eyes, trying to get rid of bleariness in them.

It doesn't take long for him to notice he's alone in bed, and if his memories and recollections from last night are correct - and not just a dream his mind had conjured up - he didn't go to bed alone. He remembers vividly the warmth of your body pressed into his, as your breathing evened out and you settled in his arms.

He remembers you stirring in your sleep, and waking him up in the process, just like you've always done, to tuck yourself under his arm, and mutter something about being cold, while tangling your legs with his. Noah always ran way too warm at night and you always feed off the warmth be provides.

He finds it impressive how easy it's being for the two of you to fall back into routine together. Five years is a long time, and even still, as he lays there, arms spread out into where your pillow is, messy, but so soft, he feels like no time has passed at all.

He doesn't let his mind run wild about the reasons why you're not in bed with him, because the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the soft, yet unmistakable clattering of a pan in the kitchen tells him you're just making breakfast. Besides, you're clothes are still laying on his bedroom floor, as he can observe from his place on the bed.

Gathering the strength to get up and leave the cocoon he's made for himself, he throws on some boxers and sweatpants and heads to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face.

Throwing some socks on his feet, he makes his way to the kitchen, and when you come into view, he could've sworn he didn't know how to breath anymore, because you completely stole his breath away.

You were there, standing in his kitchen, doing the absolutely most mundane thing ever, and he thinks he's never seen a sight so beautiful before.

Suddenly, he's transported back to when you both lived in your small apartment, on Sunday mornings when neither one of you wanted to leave your little nest made of love and comfort. But then, his belly would make a grumbling noise, and you'd laugh at him and get up to put something together for breakfast.

And just like then, you're wearing one of his t-shirts that are absolutely way too big on you, engulfing your entire frame. Your hair is pulled up, and he can see the little wisps escaping from your bun, and you run your hands over them in a futile attempt at keeping them in place. You're so focused on what you're doing, that you don't even notice him standing there, and he takes the time to admire you just a little longer.

Trailing his eyes lower, he can see your bum peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, and it's only then that he realizes that you're most likely not wearing anything underneath, and the thought has his mind absolutely reeling.

Did you wake up with the intent of killing him today?

Stepping forward, he catches you in his arms before you have the chance to turn around and face him.

"Good morning", you tell him, as you wisk the eggs in the bowl in front of you.

Noah nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, and you crane it to the side to give him more access. Lingering a few kisses there, he returns your greeting, but doesn't let you go just yet.

"I see you're still clingy in the mornings", you observe, and you can feel his smile against your skin. He was always like this in the mornings. Usually, his hair was more tangled, since you remember it being much longer than it currently is. Right now though, you're able to reach your hand back and brush the soft strands freely, and the feel of them so soft between your fingers brings you a sense of peace.

Turning around in his grasp, you're met with his still sleep ridden eyes, as he looks down at you. But the expression on his face is one of absolute calm and serenity.

Moving his hands from your waist, he trails them lower, teasing at the hem of your - his - t-shirt.

"Someone woke up a little cheeky today, huh?", he teases and you smile, a little bashful.

"You were sleeping over my panties and I didn't wanna wake you up", you tell him, and even though it was true, you have to confess that it was not the only reason you're not wearing any undergarments right now.

"Mhmm...", he trails off, and you bite your lip and give him a little sheepish, but teasing smile. "I'd say that's not the only reason, though", he says and you fake gasp at his suggestion.

"What are you insinuating?"

"I don't know about you, but that kitchen island looks mighty empty right now"

Before you can even reply, he's picking you up off the floor, and you have half the mind to wrap your legs around his middle before you're being placed on top of the kitchen island. You hiss when the cold marble makes contact with your bare skin, but you don't have anymore time to register the feeling, because his lips are on yours in a matter of seconds.

He kisses you slow and throughout, his firm hands gripping your waist, fingers digging ever so slightly into your skin. Your legs stay wrapped around his middle, and you bring your bodies even closer together, sliding yourself a little more to the edge. You have both hands gripping his face, as if you're afraid to let go and have the moment disappear altogether.

You stay there for what is probably a couple of minutes, but could feel like hours, just enjoying each other's presence. Your hand starts wandering. Over his bare chest. Over his stomach, where he flexes a little at the feeling of your slightly cold fingers over his skin.

When you reach the waistband of sweats, your fingers hesitate a little. Sensing your overthinking, Noah pushes himself into your hands, encouraging your next movements.

Palming him over the fabric, you can already feel his erection, and he parts from your lips to let out a hiss at the feeling.

"I'm the cheeky one?", you tease him, and he gives you an unabashed smile in return.

"Baby, I was hard since the moment I found you in my kitchen"

When you were about to move your hand under his sweatpants, his much bigger one grabbed yours and pulled it away from him. You frowned in confusion, but he was explaining himself before you could complain.

"We'll do that later, ok? I just wanna feel you right now", he says, and you nod, waiting for his next move.

He pushes his t-shirt adorning your body so it rests on the top of your thighs. Gently, he grabs one of your ankles, raising your leg and resting your feet flat on the counter. You're completely exposed to him now, but you don't mind that one bit. Your heart is thumping under your ribcage, and your breathing starts to get a little ragged with anticipation.

He steps closer to you, laying his palm on your face, he rests his forehead against yours, thumb softly rubbing circles on your cheek.

"Breath with me for a second", he instructs you, and you make the effort to follow his calm breaths. "You don't gotta be all anxious. I promise you it's gonna feel real good, ok?"

"Ok", you answer, still trying to take in even breaths.

"Good", he smiles. "Gonna start with my fingers, is that ok?"

"It's more than ok"

He doesn't step way from you, forehead still resting agains yours, but you feel one of his hands disappearing in between the two of you. He starts leaving lazy patterns on the inside of your thighs, sometimes splaying his palm flat to warm your skin.

You spread you legs a little wider for him, and you so desperatly want to bring yourself even more to the edge of the counter just so you can have him where you want.

"Remember to breath", Noah whispers to you, sensing your eagerness.

Deciding to not let you wait any longer, he swipes one of his long fingers between your folds, collecting the wetness pooling at your entrance, and spreading all the way up to your clit.

"Fuck, you're already so soaked for me", he murmus against your lips. His mind is still trying to gather the fact that he gets to touch you like this again.

"I have been since last night", you tell him, voice already hazy as you feel his slow and lazy movements over your clit.

"I remember. Even feel asleep with my cock inside of you, huh?", he teases, remembering how snug and warm you felt wrapped around him as sleep took him under.

"Noah, please", you beg, when he makes no movement to pick up the speed of his fingers.

"Shhh", he places one finger on your lip, shushing you. "I already told you it's gonna feel good". he reassures.

Deciding to be as teasing as he's being with you right now, you open your mouth, and sticking your tongue out, you lick the finger that's placed over your lips, letting out a hum of appreciation in the process.

Noah's mind spirals for a second, and since you want his fingers so badly, he slides one inside your mouth at the same time he slips one inside of you.

"Yeah, that's good. Take both of them", he tells you, breathless. You moan around his finger as he picks up the pace. Wet sounds fill the empty space of the kitchen, and he wants to have you like this for the rest of eternity.

You try to tell him you're close, but the finger in your mouth prevents you from forming full sentences. You don't have to, though, because he can feel every sensation rolling through your body.

"I know you're close. Can feel you clenching around my fingers", your eyes shut close and you throw your head back at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spongy spot inside you perfectly. "Gonna cum so good for me, baby?", he asks, as he removes his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva landing on your neck.

"Gonna cum so fucking good", you tell him, voice strained and you can already feel your leg cramping a bit from being perched on the counter. But you pay no mind to it though, because what he's making you feel overpowers everything else.

"Then do it. Do it for me, baby", he instructs, watching your face closely. You have no energy to keep yourself in a sitting position anymore, your arms holding you giving out, as your upper body lays down on the counter top under you. Noah takes the chance to lift yor t-shirt and spread kisses all over your soft and warm stomach.

He adds another finger, and you moan at the delicious stretch.

"Oh my God, oh my God", you repeat, not being able to think about much else right now. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum", you moan, and you can tell he's saying something, but you don't hear any of it, because your ears are buzzing, and suddenly the cold marble under you is non-existent, and you feel as if you're floating in the clouds.

You don't know how loud you're being, you can't even even register the space around you. You're just trying to catch your breath.

After a few seconds, you start to feel your legs, tired and hanging from the edge of the kitchen island. You can feel warm hands massaging your skin, and when you look to the side, you see him, looking at you like you've just given him the best thing in the world.

Noah pushes back some of the hair sticking to your forehead, trying to smooth it down, and the feeling of his hands on your hair makes your eyes flutter close for a bit.

"Feel good?", he asks, voice low. The space fills with a sense of peacefulness, and he doesn't want to disturb it.

"I feel lightweight", you point out, looking at him once again. "I'm scared I won't be able to walk", you laugh lightly, running your hand over your face.

"You should see how beautiful you look right now", Noah observes, but you shake your head lightly.

"I must look a little crazy"

"You look so beautiful", he pecks you on the lips. "You look beautiful, hot and glowing. And the best part is that you look absolutely mine"

You heart flutters at his words. This feels perfect. Falling asleep and waking up in his arms, trying to make breakfast only for him to sweep you away to have sex. Him making you feel so good and saying everythig you've been dying to hear for years.

"I am yours", you say, reaching for his face and booping his noise, which prompts him to smile even bigger.

"Can I carry my girl to bed so I can finish our breakfast?"

"What about you?", you ask, and you don't have to elaborate for him to know what you're talking about.

"Don't worry, we have all morning", he wiggles his brows, and you let him pick you up off the counter, and carry you bridal style to the bedroom. He gives you a kiss on the lips before returning to the kitchen. You get comfortable under the sheets as you hear him finishing the breakfast you started.

Tag List: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mysterygirl-srl @lacy1986 @dream-machine-love @theanarchymuse95 @missduffsblog @xmads-omensx @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @pipidoll @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @kissestomyomens @hedonist-k1l @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @daemontargaryenwife @h0riz0nsiren @astronoids @flowery-mess @renegadebirch @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @jesuisunchaton @carrieontillmay

[flowery-mess]

"I want you to touch me"

"I want you to touch me too"

"I am touching you, Honey"

"I want you to touch me more"

They're just so😭😩🥰🤭

And when he called her baby🤭

It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter - n.s.

This is basically their "reunion" fic, and what happened after they grabbed that dinner together after the concert.

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

Warnings: slightly slow burn, I guess? It's fluffy. Noah and exwife go on a date. There's a lot of conversation on this one. 18+ smut (unprotected p in v, oral both female and male receiving, creampie and a little of cockwarming I guess?)

WC: 7.2k words.

It felt like you and Noah were at the beggining stages of your relationship all over again. And you felt like an overexcited teenager whenever your phone buzzed with a text from him.

You tried to dial it down a bit. You were once married to him and you had a kid together after all, and you shouldn't be this giggly over text messages and him taking you out on a date. You had to remind yourself you were 30, and not 16 anymore.

You've been talking consistently after you, him and Ezra had dinner together after the concert a couple of weeks ago. You've definitely been talking more than you've ever had in the five years you've been separated. They were mundane, simple and easy conversations. You tell him about your day, and he tells you about his. You tell him your plans, and what you're having for lunch or dinner, and he tells you how the new record label is coming together.

You knew you needed to have more serious conversations sooner rather than later. The conversation you had at the green room after the concert was enlightening, but it is not lost on you that you needed to discuss other things. There's so much you want to know about him and how he navigated life for the past five years, but you were not sure when it would be the right time to talk about it.

You guess you were at the beginning stages of your relationship all over again after all. You were both different people now. You've both changed so much - and stayed the same at the same time - and there's so much to figure out about each other, that you think it's not a bad thing you've been taking it slow.

You think about how you want the night to go as you apply your mascara to your top and bottom lashes, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Noah was taking you out on a date tonight, and it was getting hard to control your anxiety. He didn't tell you where you were going, just instructing you to dress casual and that nothing too fancy was needed, and you thanked him for remembering how uncomfortable you felt at fancy dinners and restaurants.

Earlier on in the day, you dropped Ezra off at your mom's house. You went over in your head a hundred times what you were going to tell him, but then decided to just say that Mom and Dad are going to have dinner together. Which is not a lie, but it's not the full truth either. You just didn't wanna use the word "date" yet and confuse his little head. Even though you could already see the cogs turning in his head, and you didn't doubt he would piece together the situation without you and Noah having to tell him anything.

A soon as you finished your makeup, you heard your phone buzz on the counter, signaling a text message had just come through.

Noah: Hey, sweetheart.

Noah: Just letting you know I'm on my way.

You smiled and texted back that you were ready and waiting for him.

And yeah, there are the nicknames as well. Like the one he just used. There's also "angel" and "honey", and they all made butterflies erupt in your stomach. The one he's been avoiding though is "baby", and you can kind of see way.

Back when you were together, that was your nickname. He's never called anyone else that, besides Ezra, after he was born. And it was your favorite, the way it slipped past his lips. Sometimes in a warning tone, when he was wary of something you wanted to do. Sometimes soft and quiet, in the mornings neither one of you wanted to leave the bed. Sometimes loud and excited when he wanted to show you something. And sometimes breathy and out of air, just a hint of whining whenever you were tangled together under the sheets.

Before your mind could wander any more, you busied yourself putting your shoes on and making sure you had everything in your purse. Locking the house, you sat on the couch, waiting for the familiar hum of his car arriving outside.

It was only a 15 minute drive from his place to yours, and soon enough, he was pulling up outside and killing the engine of his car. You waited patiently, knowing he'd want to ring your doorbell and greet you at the door, instead of having you make your way to his car.

A couple of seconds after hearing the doorbell ring, you opened the door and was greeted with a smile. Smiling back, you took him in. He looked relaxed, dressed casual just like you were. But something about him always made you feel incredibly attacted to him.

Maybe it was the way the tattoos complimented him perfectly. Or maybe it was his hair, which always annoyed you, because it looks perfect 100% of the time. Maybe it was his eyes, so soft and expressive, but dark at the same time. And then there was his height, because he completely towered over you, and instead of feeling intimidated, you've always felt like he was your protector. Like he was always there to catch you if you needed.

Yeah, there was really no match for any other man on the Planet, and you've been a fool for the past five years for thinking that there could be.

"You look beautiful", he says, looking you up and down, sending shivers down your body and causing a bashful smile to take over your face.

"Noah, I look how I look everyday", you pointed out. You really needed to learn how to take a compliment.

"I haven't seen you everyday in five years", he told you, and you guess he has a point. You're still getting used to it yourself.

"Careful, or you'll get tired of seeing my face all the time", you warned him with a playful tone.

"Nope. Not possible", he says, a little smile playing on his lips. You needed to get going, because he's already starting to make you feel flustered. "Ok, let's go", Noah steps aside so you can come out and lock the door behind you. He keeps close to you though, and you can definitely feel the heat radiating from his body, and if you stepped back just a little bit, you'd sure feel his solid chest pressed to your back.

You tried to keep these thoughts at bay, but you couldn't help but want to feel his arms around your waist, his large and firm hand rubbing at your sides up and down, just like it would many years ago.

Reminding yourself that your reality is different now, you turned around and stored your house keys safely inside your purse, and after you were done, Noah led the way to his car.

You didn't wait for him to open the door for you, and actually, he didn't even try to. Another thing he remembered. You hated these perfomative acts of chivalry. Once you were both with your seatbelts on, he started the car and drove off.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?", you ask, turning your head to look at him. He quickly took his eyes off the road to briefly look at you, and you saw a little mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"I can tell you that it's a place we've been to before"

"Noah", you huffed a little and he started to get amused at your curiosity. You've always been like this whenever he tried to surprise you. That is, when you didn't find out all about the surprise beforehand. "We haven't gone out to eat in years. How am I going to remember?"

"Oh, you'll remember", he reassured you. "You loved that place"

Thinking for a few seconds, he smiled even bigger when you let out a little gasp, and he knew you had figured it out.

"You're taking me to Casa di Roma?", you say, turning your body to fully face him now. He diverted his eyes once again just to get a glimpse at the big smile on your face.

"I told you you'd remember it"

"Wow", you say, going over the information in your head. "I actually haven't been there since we split", you confess.

"I haven't either"

A silence envelops the car, and for a few seconds, all you can hear is the hum of the engine, and the soft sounds of the streets around you.

"I was so mad at you", you point out, and you see Noah's eyebrows raise in curiosity.

"I think you were mad at me for a million different reasons", he says, and the slightly tense moment vanishes.

"Yeah, but I was mad about the fact that I loved the food at that restaurant, but I couldn't go back because it held too many memories. So I had to settle for mid carbonara for five years", you side-eye him and he laughs at your misery.

"Sounds like a real struggle", he teases you, shaking his head from side to side.

"Hey", you swat his arm from where you're seated. "I was actually upset about that"

You're both smiling, and your heart constricts at the interaction between you two. For such a long time, you thought things would never go back to normal. You thought you would never be able to be this close to him ever again, let alone have a conversation like this.

And here you are, on the backseat of his car, as you joke about the time you've been divorced, and the atmosphere actually feels light.

You missed laughing with him.

"I'm glad to take you out of your misery, then", he tells you and you hum in agreement.

You observe him for a few seconds. He's focused on the road as he takes a right turn, and you can tell you're getting close to the restaurant. You keep looking at him anyways, and you're sure he can feel you staring. He doesn't say anything though.

Noah is actually loving the attention you're giving him. And the fact that you apparently can't keep your eyes off of him.

God knows it's taking everything he has not to make a move of his own. Place his hand on your thigh. Intertwine his fingers with yours. He just wants to be touching you somehow, after such a long time not being able to.

He holds himself back though, and after a few more minutes, you two can see the restaurant up ahead.

He didn't tell you, but he also hasn't been here in the past five years. His reason not being all that different from yours, but he guesses it stems more from a feeling of sadness and longing for what once was, rather then the anger you felt.

Parking his car not too far from the entrance, you both get out of the car and make your way in. Everything is the exact same as you remember it. You look around youself as the waitress greets Noah and he gives both your names, and she starts guiding you to your table.

You find it odd for a second, since this restaurant is not usually a place you have to make a reservation. You see the reason though, when the table comes in sight.

It's the same table you always sat in whenever you came here. It provided the perfect amount of privacy, and Noah knew you were particular of where you liked to sit. And ever since the first time, you always chose the same table, over and over again.

Once you were both sat, she handed you the menus and told you she'd be back to take your orders shortly. You set it aside, not needing to look at it, already knowing what to order.

"I know we're starting over, and that means creating new habits eventually", Noah starts, and you look at him. "But I couldn't help but call in advance and reserve this table for tonight"

"It's perfect", you tell him, with sincerity. "I love that you thought about it"

Noah was always a man who payed attention to the details. A perfectionist, you'd call it, and later on in the relationship, you'd find out that most musicians were. To him, though, it didn't only apply to his music, it also bled into other aspects of his life.

"You don't even have to open the menu", he says, ponting to the discarded menu on the corner of the table.

"I just really hope the carbonara is still the same", you crossed your fingers in front of you.

Light conversation flowed between the two of you after the waitress took your orders. You and Noah refrained from ordering some wine, since he was driving and you didn't want to drink alone.

It wasn't long before your deliciously smelling plates were set in front of you.

"Looks about the same as it used to", you muttered to yourself. Noah snickered in amusement in front you.

"Sounds like you're a judge on a cooking competition or something", he says, and you laugh.

"I'm sorry, it's just that it's been so long, that I really hope it tastes the same"

"Well, take the first bite and give me the full review, then", he set his cutlery aside and waited for you to gather some of the pasta and try it.

Noah watches you with an amused expression and a glint in his eyes. He remembers your nights here as if they happened yesterday. And he definitely wants to bring you here more often. And he also wants to know where else you love to eat. What ice cream parlor is your favorite. What delivery you order to your house when you don't want to cook for the night.

You close your eyes when the food invades your taste buds. Throwing your head back slightly, you make a sound between a hum and moan, but it's enough to make Noah's head go to places he was avoiding for the time being.

Noah waits patiently for you verdict, and trying not to think about how you used to do what you did just now under completely different circumstances.

"It tastes exactly the same", you tell him once you've swallowed everything down, immediately going for another bite.

Noah starts eating his own food, and he too is taken down memory lane when he tastes the different flavors.

You two don't really talk all that much as you eat, and you take the time to look around you and take everything in. The place has remained almost the same over the years. You did notice they painted the walls on the outside patio and changed the chairs. There were also a few more decorative elements, like pictures hanging on the wall.

"Yeah, I'll never stop coming to this place ever again", Noah points out once he's finished, wiping his mouth with the napkin and setting it beside him on the table.

Just another bite and you're done as well. "I don't think I'll be able to stop again either".

"Once you have a taste of what you've lost, you don't really wanna let it go again", Noah says and you agree with a nod, a knowing smile on your face. You kind of want to make of him for that cheesy line, but you decide not to, mainly because you feel the same way.

"Shoudn't we be talking about ourselves or something?", you observe, taking a sip of the beverage in front of you.

"What do you mean?", Noah asks you.

"Like, this is our first date, right? Shouldn't you tell me what your favorite color is, or whatever?"

He thinks over your question for a couple of seconds. Yes, your technically going on a first date, but this kind of small talk just doesn't seem right to him.

"I don't think so", he settles. "I believe I know you like the back of my hand", he says and you make a sort of surprised face. Not because you don't believe him - you do - but because that was such a bold statement.

"After five years?", you question him.

"You're a creature of habit, Y/N. So I don't think things have changed all that much", he shrugs his shoulder.

"Well, I do want you to tell me what you've been up to during these five years though"

As soon as you said this, the waitress came back, asking if you were ready to have the bill, and Noah said yes.

You couldn't lie and say you weren't disappointed. You wanted to spend more time with him. You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to be close to him for longer.

"Tell me if this is out of line", he started. "But would you be willing to come back to my place so we can chat a bit more?", he asks, a bit reluctant.

"Honestly, I wanted you to say that"

"It's settled then. I'll pay the bill and then we'll head to my place", he reaches for his wallet on the pocket of his pants.

"I've never been there before", you point out.

Noah always picked up and dropped off Ezra at your place, and you never really needed to go to his. You only imagined what it looked like from what Ezra has told you over the years.

"I think you'll like it", he says and you agree. Noah was always very picky of where he wanted to live. Once you moved out of that tiny apartment, the process of finding a new place took a while. The houses either didn't have a nice design, too small or too large, or it was far away from everything, or it was too close to downtown. At the end of the day, you settled for the houe you live in right now, and you can only imagine Noah's struggle having to find another place that accommodated all his needs.

Noah paid the bill, and you didn't even attempt to split it, already knowing he wouldn't let you, and you both made your way back to his car.

The way to his house was slightly familir to you, mainly because you knew his place wasn't too far away from yours. It was something you knew Noah considered when looking for a new place. He wanted to be close to you and Ezra, just in case something happened and he nedded to be there fast.

Arriving at his place, your eyes went over the exterior as Noah parked inside the garage. You could tell the house wasn't big, and it only had one floor. You guess as someone living alone, you don't really need that big of a house.

Getting out of the car, he leads you to the door on the left side of the garage, and it leads straight into the kitchen. As you expected, everything is very organized and clean. It was always something you and Noah had different opinions on. You didn't have a problem with leaving a few things laying aroud the house, and more often than not, you caught Noah organizing after you.

You could tell the house was lived in though, and you could see a lot of signs from Ezra all over the place. The drawings on the fridge, his favorite cereal set on the counter, and, as you went into the living room, you saw some of his favorite board games and toys on some shelves on the wall.

"Your place is nice. Ezra tells me how much he loves the couch everytime he goes back home", you tell him.

"Are you gonna be mad if I tell you we crash on the couch more often than not?", you laugh at the way he side-eyes you, trying to gauge your reaction.

"No, I'm not", you tell him. "I'm guilty of crashing on the couch a few times as well"

Ever since you and Noah divorced and lived in different houses, you knew you would do things differently, even though you agreed on most things. There were things Ezra could do at your place, that he wasn't allowed to do at Noah's place and vice versa, and usually, the kid was pretty good at differentiating.

"Test the couch and I'll be back with some tea, ok?", Noah said, going to the kitchen, and you placed yourself on the couch, proving that it was indeed a very comfortable couch.

Looking around a little bit more as you waited for him to come back, you noticed a picture set on the side table. Getting closer, you saw it was a picture you both took with Ezra when he was only about three years old. You remember that day vividly. It was a school play, and you and Noah were nervous and excited at the same time. It wasn't anything overly elaborate, but you remember crying your eyes out when Ezra stepped on stage.

Grabbing the picture, you observed how young you and Noah looked. His hair was much longer, and he didn't have half the tattoos he has now. Your hair was darker and you wore much more makeup than you ever would right now. Your smiles were bright, as Noah held Ezra in his arms, and the little kid had an arm around your neck, bringing the family together.

"I didn't have the heart to put away this one", Noah said, getting back in the room with two steaming mugs in his hands. Setting the picture back in it's place, you take one mug from him and thank him for the tea.

"I just wonder how many girls you brough over that thought they were your mistress", you point out, and Noah almost spits out the sip he had just taken from the tea. When he recovers, he looks at you with a deadpan face, and you want to laugh at his reaction. "I'm sorry, It was the first thing that came into my mind"

"Well, I don't bring girls over in the first place", he explains and it's your turn to deadpan at him.

"You don't gotta pretend. I won't be mad", you tell him, and you're being honest. You're not sure if you want to broach this subject with him right now, but since you're already here, you might as well.

"I'm not saying I haven't been with girls, I just don't invite them back to my place, that's all", he shrugs his shoulder, and you can tell he's being honest.

"To be fair, I usually don't bring guys over to my place either", you offered him the information. "You'd be surprised by how difficult the dating scene is for women these days", you take a sip of your tea as you tell him this.

"How come?", he asks, even though he has a pretty good idea. He just wants to hear you badmouthing other guys to him.

"They're mostly all just dumb and can't hold a conversation without fully talking about themselves", you tell him and he grins at your statement. "Being a single mom doesn't help you either"

"I'm sorry about that. Does the MILF thing come up a lot with these guys?"

You can't help but snort at the MILF comment.

"They've never said it to my face, so I don't know. But I guess so? I mean, men are gonna be men", there was a lull in the conversation before you speak up again. "I guess the dating life of a rockstar is much more interesting, though"

"Rockstar", he laughs at little at the way you refer to him. He knows you're just messing with him, especially because you already know he hates being called a rockstar. "Not that interesting, actually. Don't really have the energy for that after performing for a few nights in a row"

"I can see that", you tell him, before you change the subject. "By the way, I saw the post about you guys taking a break a couple of months back"

You remember opening your social media and seeing the post cancelling a couple of concerts due to Noah's burnout.

"I wanted to reach out to you and ask how you were doing, but I just didn't know how to"

"It's ok, you don't have to worry", he scooted closer to you on the couch, and placed his hand on top of yours. "I'm doing better now, and that was actually the breaking point, and when we decided to come up with our own label", he explains.

"How is that going, by the way?", you ask him, turning your body to fully face him now.

"It's going well so far. It's a lot of paperwork and it's going to be a while before we see things actually happening, but I feel so much better already"

"I'm happy for you, I truly am. I don't really know how things were these past five years, and I didn't know about your struggle with he label when we were still together, but I'm happy for you guys having something of your own", you tell him, leaning your head against the back of the couch and looking at him.

"You didn't know because I didn't tell you, so don't worry about that", he waved your comment off, knowing you were still dwelling on what he told you. "How's the tattoo studio going?", he asked and you smiled.

"It's going great. I'm booked and busy, thankfully"

"I gotta schedule an appointment so I can get a Y/N exclusive design", he says.

"You already got an exclusive design", you tell him, running your finger over his ring finger, where the band you tattooed on him so long ago still stays, albeit a little bit faded.

"Gotta get a new one for a new beginning", you hum in agreement and get closer to him on the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder. He rests his head on top of yours, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"Thanks for tonight", he tells you, murmuring against your hair.

"You're welcome. I really enjoyed myself. Might even say it's the best first date I've ever been on", you crane your neck to look at him, and you're met with him smiling down at you.

You look at each other for a few seconds, and you can see his eyes drifting lower and focusing on your lips from time to time.

"Do you kiss on first dates?" he asks you quietly, and you smile.

"Only if they're my ex-husband", you joke.

"Lucky for me, there's only one of them out there"

Noah grasps the side of your face and brings your lips closer until they're barely touching. He waits for a second, giving you the chance to change your mind, but you don't.

"Kiss me, please", you don't ask, you just tell him, and then finally, your lips are crashing together. It's slow and you're both just drinking the moment. His hands feel so warm and firm on your face, as he keeps you close to him, and in a brief moment of bravery, your own hand starts to make it's way up his chest. Soon, though, you realize what you're doing and quickly withdraw your hand.

Noah is having none of it though, grabbing your hand and putting it back where it was.

"I want you to touch me", he parts briefly to whisper the words into your lips. You go back to splaying your hands on his chest, feeling the firmness and warmth of it under your hands. Licking your lips, you contemplate your next words.

"I want you to touch me too", you whisper back to him.

"I am touching you, Honey", he runs his thumb over your cheeks to get his point across, even though he has an idea of what you wanted to say.

"I want you to touch me more", you tell him, averting your gaze in an act of mild embarrassment. You've gone five years without him, and you're not sure you can go much longer anymore.

"Hey, look at me", he taps your cheek and your eyes meet his again. And if he wasn't sitting down, the way you're looking at him right know would've definitely knocked him off his feet. He takes in the way you're biting your lower lip in anticipation, and how innocent your eyes look from under your lashes, even if what you're proposing is anything but innocent. "Are we not taking this slow?", he asks, and you lose every ounce of bravery you had in your body, realizing what you're suggesting and how ridiculous you probably sound.

"Yeah, I know", you shake your head and move away from him, prompting his hand to leave it's place resting on your cheek. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me", you let out a nervous laugh and Noah can feel the embarrassment radiating off of you. Before he can say anything though, you're looking around yourself and reaching for your purse, discarded on the other side of the couch. "I should get going anyways, It's getting kind of late"

Before you have the chance to get up from the couch, he's grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer to him once again.

"Can you slow down for a second?", he tells you, but it does little to erase what you're feeling right now. You try to play it cool, even though you're being so obvious.

"What do you mean? I'm just getting my stuff to leave", you tell him, matter-of-factly, like he can't see what you're trying to do.

"Yeah, and you're not leaving", Noah says and you're a little taken aback by his words.

"I'm not leaving?", you say, a little amused.

"No, because I'm not gonna let you go this time", he's serious and you can tell by the expression on his face. "I think you got it all wrong, so I need to explain myself before you try to bolt out of the door"

"Explain what? You're right, we're taking this slow and I was the one who crossed a line", you tell him.

"I said that more so for yourself than me, because I don't want you to leave and regret whatever it is that we do tonight", Noah explains, but you stay quiet, thinking over his words. "Trust me, if you tell me right now that you want me to bend you over this couch and fuck you senseless, I have absolutely no problem with that. But I don't want you to go home and think we shouldn't have done it"

His words send a tingle down your spine, and you're so close to him right now that he can feel the change in your breath, how it puffs more rapidly and how your chest moves up and down faster. He smiles at the effect he has on you.

"You like the idea of me bending you over the couch?", he asks, voice quiet and the warm breath from his lips are hitting your own. You close your eyes.

"Noah", you half whimper his name, and his hand moves from your hips to down your thighs.

"Yes, baby?", he asks, and you swear you shiver when you hear the nickname you've gone so long without. It seems like that is your breaking point, because in seconds, your leg is moving and you find yourself straddling his hips and kissing his mouth.

His hands are firm on your thighs as they squeeze the flesh, after a few seconds though, you start to feel a little restless, so you grab them and slide them to rest on the swell of your ass. Noah hisses in-between kisses.

"You're fucking killing me", he tells you, voice strained and you can tell he's holding himself back.

"I told you that I want you to touch me"

"I need you to tell me you're not gonna regret this", he parts from you and look up to find your eyes, and you find a little vulnerability in his.

"I've wanted this since the moment you kissed me after that concert. Probably before too, I just had a hard time accepting I was probably never gonna have you this way again", you confess.

"I want you to have me this way for the rest of our lives, like it was always supposed to be", he smiles and you give him a peck on the lips.

"Are you going to fuck me on the couch or are we moving this to your bedroom?", you ask, teasing him.

"Are you the same woman who was embarrassed just minutes ago?", you laugh at his remark, but it's cut short when gets up from the couch carrying you with him. You loop your arms around his neck for support, and it's not lost on you how you can feel his hard on pressing into your core.

Kicking the door to his bedroom open, he lays you down on the bed and you take a few seconds to look around yourself before he starts taking his shirt off, and now your eyes are wandering over his body instead.

It's undeniable how buff he's gotten over the years, you've noticed on pick ups and drops offs at your house. But to see it right in front of you evoked feelings you didn't know existed.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a seating position, and you feel his fingers messing with the hem of your shirt before he's pulling it up and off of you. In seconds, his large hands are kneading the flesh of your boobs, and you're throwing your head back in pleasure.

"I missed these so fucking much", he says before starting to plant kisses on the top of your breasts, you reach back to pop the clasp and your bra falls in between the two of, and soon, it's being flung to somewhere on the floor of his bedroom.

Laying you down once again, his mouth leaves a trail of kisses from your neck, down to your brests and all over your stomach. You can't help but lift your hips off the mattress looking for more contact, and honestly, Noah is not too kin on letting you wait tonight. He figures you've both waited long enough.

He hooks his fingers under your shorts and panties and takes them off all at once, and you instinctively part your legs to make room for him.

Swiping his index finger in between your folds, he marvels at how wet you are for him.

"I can't believe you'd leave and not let me taste you", he tuts at you, before his mouth is between your legs, and his tongue is circling over your clit.

You let out a moan in satisfaction. You almost forgot how good he was at this. Soon, your hands are gripping his short locks, keeping him in place and his large hand is over your stomach, preventing you from moving too much, since he knows you have a tendency to do that.

It doesn't take much for you to be on the edge of the precipice, ready to fall and have pleasure engulf you whole.

"I'm so close", you tell him, whining and screwing your eyes shut.

"Cum for me", he tells you, looking up at you from between your legs. "Please cum for me", he says again, and in seconds you can feel your walls restricting and your legs closing in on his head. Your moans get louder and your legs are shaking, and you can't help but push his head away a little from how sensitive you're feeling.

Noah sits back on the bed and just watches you. Naked and trying to catch your breath. He thinks you look the most beautiful like this. Laying on his bed after he just pulled the most beautiful sounds from you.

"My fingers definitely don't have the same effect", you says and he lets out a genuine laugh at your remark. You smile and look at him from your position on the bed, taking in how he looks. He has sort of a dazed smile on his lips, and as your eyes trail lower, you can see the bulge under his pants.

Lifting one of your feet, you start to trail it down from his abs to where you know it feels painful and restraining. When you run your toes over his crotch, he sucks in a breath and closes his eyes. You apply a little more pressure and he bucks his hips, looking for more.

"Take off your pants", you instruct him.

"Come here and take it off for me", he tells you and you oblige with no complaint.

You start with his belt, undoing it slowly, and pulling it from the belt loops in his pants. Unzipping his jeans, you reach inside before pulling it down, and palm him over his boxers. You can feel the outline of his dick, and how hard and hot it feels in your palms.

"Don't tease, baby", he begs a little, voice breathless and already a little ruined.

You take his pants and boxers off and pull them halfway down, but he has to stand up from the bed to take them off all the way.

You don't give him the chance to get on the bed once again, because you're kneeling in front of him, looking at him from under your lashes as you take his length in your hands and starts pumping him.

"I don't think I'll last long, baby", he says and you only shake your head. You don't see a problem with that.

He grunts when he feels your velvety mouth envelop his dick. It's wet, and soft, and warm, and he swears to himself he won't go another five years without feeling this.

He gathers your hair in a ponytail and helps you along with your movements. He loves watching the way his length disappears inside your mouth, and how your eyes are watery from the effort you're putting in.

"It feels so good baby. You gonna let me cum in your mouth?", he asks and you hum around his dick as an answer. "You gonna swallow everything?"

"You know I always swallow everything", you tell him and this is what sends him over the edge. His body becomes stiff and he cums inside your mouth, and he can't keep his eyes open even if he wanted to. You pull your mouth off with a pop, and it takes a while before he's back to being fully functioning.

When he looks down at you again, he can see your makeup a little bit smudged, and his thumb swipes under your eyes to catch a little bit of the moisture that escaped from them.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this", he shakes his head in disbelief. "Get on the bed", he tells you, not wanting to waste another second.

"How do you want me?", you ask.

"On your back. I need to look at you"

And that's what you do, getting comfortable on your back, head resting over the pillow as you watch Noah pump himself a few times before leaning over you on the bed. He captures your lips with his, and moans into your mouth when he tastes himself on your tongue.

You reach down and take his member in your hand, you guide it to your entrance, and he gives a little push and you can feel him slipping inside with no resistance whatsoever.

You gasp at the feeling of him stretching you open, and he gives you a few seconds to adjust before he starts moving back and forth.

Supporting himself with both hands on the mattress, he looks down at you and you place both of your palms on his slightly sweaty chest.

"You feel so tight around me", he hisses. You hook both of your legs around his lower back, bringing him impossibly closer to you.

"Go faster, please", you request and he smiles down at you.

"Look at you being so polite", he teases and picks up his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room around you.

Your moans get louder once he starts hitting that perfect spot inside of you, and you roll your eyes back in pleasure.

"Fucking made for me, huh?", Noah starts to mumble, the pleasure taking over him. "You were fucking made for me"

"Yes, yes", you repeat like a mantra, nodding your head and locking your eyes with his. He grabs your chin in a firm grip, trying to anchor himself to something.

"I'm so close, baby", he tells you and you can already feel him faltering a little bit.

"Me too"

"I can feel you fucking squeezing around me", he grunts from above, and hitches one of your legs even higher, hitting a new angle and making you see starts. "Let go for me, baby. Cum all over my dick for me"

His dirty words send you over the edge, and a couple of pumps later, he follows right after you. His arms no longer able to support him, he falls on top of you, but you don't mind that one bit. For a while, you both just lay there, trying to catch your breaths and wrap your heads around what just happened.

"I'll pull out so I can clean us up, ok?", he says, but you whine in protest, not wanting to part just yet. You use your leg that is hitched over his hip, and roll the two of you to the side. He's still inside of you, and you can feel his release dripping on the bed sheets, but you don't care. You just want to feel close to him.

"Wanna stay like this for while", you tell him, and he starts to run his hands over your back softly.

"If we stay like this, I'll get hard again", he points out, and you look up at him from where you're tucked at his side.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not if you wanna go again", he lets the statement linger in the air for a few seconds.

"Maybe in fifteen minutes. I think we should rest for a bit though", you says and he nods in agreement, smiling down at you.

"Is it too much if I ask you to stay the night?", Noah proposes and you shake your head no.

"Ezra is spending the night at his grandparent's house", you point out. Silence takes over for a few seconds.

"Where do we go from here?", Noah asks, in a moment of contemplation.

"We just keep going. I think it'll lead us to somewhere amazing", you tell him, planting a kiss on the side of his mouth before he captures your lips in a proper kiss.

"Thanks for letting me in again", Noah whispers into the quiet of the room.

"Thanks for giving me another chance", you whisper back truthfully.

You don't have the chance to go for another round though, because in few minutes, you're both falling asleep in each other's arms, a feeling of contentment and safeness you haven't felt in so long takes over your body, and you decide that you never want to stop feeling like this again.

Tag List: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mysterygirl-srl @lacy1986 @dream-machine-love @theanarchymuse95 @missduffsblog @xmads-omensx @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @w0manof-flesh44 @chey-h @pipidoll @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @kissestomyomens @hedonist-k1l @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @daemontargaryenwife @h0riz0nsiren @astronoids @flowery-mess @renegadebirch @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @jesuisunchaton @carrieontillmay

[flowery-mess]

I built a home, for you, for me - n.s.

Four times you and Noah experienced firsts with your little family. This is part of the Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader universe. This one is set before their divorce!

Warnings: this is pure fluff, but poor Ezra looses a tooth.

WC: 1.9k words. (not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

The first kick.

The first time it happened, it was so soft and it passed so quicly that you didn't even register that your baby had just started kicking. Your body was going through so many changes during pregnancy, that you had a hard time distinguishing one thing from the other.

You had just surpassed your 20th week of pregnancy, and soon, you and Noah would find out the gender of the baby on the next ultrasound. You were still debating whether you wanted to know right then and there, or, if you wanted a simple gender reveal later.

Regardless of that, Noah was already calling your little baby his "baby boy", and his "little guy". Sometimes, you teased him about it, telling him there was no way he could know the baby is a boy. Other times, you found his conviction so cute, that you didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

You knew he'd be the perfect dad whether you were having a girl, or a boy.

Right now, he was doing one of his - and your - favorite things. Talking to your belly.

This has become routine by now. First, he'd look up something to compare the baby size to. Then, he'd lay his head on your thighs, and tell the baby all about what he found and how the day has been.

"So", he starts, voice quiet and using his index finger to trace slow patterns on your growing belly. "Right now, you're about the size of a mango", he uses his other hand to show the approximate size of a mango. You laugh, because who is he showing it to?

"Your mom is so brave, because I could never imagine having something the size of a mango inside of me. And soon, you'll be the size of a pumpkin. Imagine that!", he quietly exclaims, and you divert you eyes from whatever you were watching on the television, eyes fixed on him. Your heart always grew twice it's size when you watched him like this.

He's been so caring and loving ever since you found out about the pregnancy. He was adamant in doing his research, buying books to understand the development of babies, and even making you eat things you downright found disgusting because "you needed your nutrients now more than ever".

"Soon, we'll find out if you're a boy or a girl. And even though I know you're a little boy, I guess we have to go and confirm it anyways", he stole a look at you from under his eyelashes, and you're staring at him with amusement your eyes. "I'm so excited though, because then, we'll start planning your nursery. I can't wait to look at furniture for hours until your mom decides which crib she wants to buy"

You were gonna quip back with an anwer about how it was probably gonna take weeks for Noah to decide what color he wants to paint the room, when you felt - and saw - a quick right over your belly button.

You sat up a little straighter, and Noah lifted his head from your lap, you both looking at each other with complete shock on your faces.

"Did he just....?", Noah started, and you nodded yes.

"Our baby just kicked", you confirmed.

"Here, lay down", he adjusted your pillows for you, and you laid down comfortably on the bed. "Let's stay quiet and see if he does it again".

For a couple of minutes, you both stay there, staring expectantly at you belly to see if it happens again. But, so far, you had no luck.

"Maybe they like to hear your voice?", you murmur.

And then, Noah quietly starts to whisper a melody to a song, and lo and behold, a few seconds later, you felt another kick. This time, it landed right on the right side of your belly, right where Noah was sitting beside you.

"Oh my God", he gasps in surprise, and before you can even say anything, he rests his head right on top of your belly, and you can see he has tears pooling in his eyes, emotional from the fact that your baby reacted to hearing his voice. You start to run your fingers through his hair, as you both just soak in the moment.

"I guess you'll be the one to sing them to sleep, huh?", you tease and he smiles.

"Thank you for this. Thank you for everything", he says, intertwining his hands with yours. You don't have to say anything, the weight of the moment speakig for itself.

2. The first word.

You and Noah always made sure to make bath time an enjoyable time for little Ezra. The little bathtub always displayed an array of rubber toys for him to play with. And, most often than not, when he'd get a little too excited, it ended up with both you and Noah soaked in water.

You didn't mind, though, because his little giggles while he played with the water and the toys, made every hardship disappear from your mind.

"You're a menace", you tell Noah, as he styles Ezra's hair in a little mowhak. The strands of dark hair - much like his father's - all soapy from the baby shampoo Noah was rubbing in his sensitive scalp.

"He's enjoying it. Look", Noah points at Ezra's toothless grin as he stares up at the two of you. You saw his father's eyes whenever you looked into them, and you wonder if this kid is gonna take after you in anything.

"He's clueless", you point out.

"Yeah, but he's daddy's favorite, isn't that right, little Ezra?", he says in a baby voice. "Tell mama you're daddy's favorite"

"Da!", Ezra suddenly blurts out, pointing hiss little and chubby finger at Noah, but looking and smiling at you.

Your eyes go wide in surprise and you instantly look at Noah to gauge his reaction, which is not much different from yours.

As soon as the moment comes, it passes, when Ezra starts to splash some water around, clearly already distracted with something else and none the wiser of what he just did.

"Noah, he called you dad", you walk up to him, engulfing him in a embrace, feeling emotional yourself.

"I can't believe he just called me dad", he murmurs into your shoulder. "It's like he could even understand what I said".

He's right, and you're a little in disbelief of how smart your little baby looked already.

"You've been talking to him from the moment he was in my belly. It wouldn't surprise me if he could actually understand you"

"Do you think I can get him to say it again?", he asks, hopeful, already turning back towards the bathtub and resuming his "conversation" with the baby.

3. The first steps.

By this point, you already knew that when you have a baby, milestones could happen at literally any minute, during a random day, and when you least expect it.

Ezra has been practicing standing up for a while now, and you and Noah always encouraged the little baby with toys, his bottle, or you'd just sit there on the floor, with arms wide open, trying to get him to understand the concept of hugging.

So far, you've had no success in your journey of getting to walk. You didn't worry much, though, since you knew it was gonna happen eventually. It's just that every time he stood up on his chubby little legs, both you and Noah would hold your breaths in anticipation, only for him to plop down on his bum once again.

This evening, he was playing on his little playmat set in the living room, while Noah was sitting on the couch working on some music on his computer. You took the time to gather some of the toys not being used that were sprawled all over the floor, and put them away in the storage bins you bought whe Ezra started to gather one too many toys.

You were holding the baby giraffe in your hands, and right when you about to drop it inside the bin, you heard a sound of complaint from Ezra.

You and Noah looked at him, as he stood up and pointed at you, complaining once again. It took you a while to realize that he was pointing to the toy.

Crouching down on the floor, you held the giraffe in front of you. "You want the toy?", you asked the baby, and Ezra smiled, telling you that it was exactly what he wanted.

All of a sudden, his right foot steps forward, and you start wiggling the toy with much more conviction now.

"Noah, are you seeing this?", you say, in exasperation and excitement.

"Yes, I am", he answers, throwing his computer to the side. "Go get you toy! C'mon buddy, go get it", he encourages, and then his left foot steps forward. Before Ezra can do anything else, he loses balance and falls on his bum, resuming his previous position on the floor.

Elated with happiness, you and Noah get up, as you cheer on the baby who had just taken his first couple of steps.

"You did so well, my little guy", you say, handing him the giraffe.

"I forgot to record", Noah says, a little disapponted.

"It's ok, I have a feeling that soon, we won't be able to stop him"

4. The first lost tooth.

"Mom!", Ezra yells, as he comes bounding inside the house. "Look at this!", he sets his backpack on the kitchen island, looking through it for something. Noah had been called in to pick him up earlier from school. Apparently, he had fallen and hit his head on the floor.

Noah comes in a few seconds after him, and you give him a questioning look. You were worried about your child's wellbeing, and here he was, running in the house as if nothing had happened. Noah just shakes his head with a smile.

"Just let the kid show it to you", he tells you, standing beside you, looping an arm around your waist.

Ezra pulls out a bunch of papers that formed a little ball. Your frown only deepends as he starts to pull the thing apart.

"I wrapped in a lot of paper because I was scared I'd lose it", you looked at Noah and just snorted in amusement. "Look!", he exclaims, and you have a hard time seeing what he's holding up. But when you do, you notice that it's a tooh. It's so small, it can barely fit in between his fingers.

"What?", you ask, genuine confusion laced in your voice.

Ezra grins at you and you can finally see the little gap where one of his front tooth used to be.

"He fell and hit his mouth, and one of his teeth fell off", Noah explains.

"Oh my God. Noah, he's too young to be losing teeth. He's barely five!", you exclaim, clearly concerned. "Does it hurt? Where did you hit your mouth?", you turn to Ezra as you grab his face in your hands, examining his mouth and the remaining set of teeth.

"I cried a little, but then Clarice told me I'd be getting money from the tooh fairy, and then I wasn't crying anymore", Ezra explained, and you just shook your head.

"You can put your tooth under the pillow tonight. Keep it safe, ok?", you tell him. "Now go get changed".

He wraps his tooth in the papers again, gathers his backpack and makes his way to his room.

"We're gonna have to take him to the dentist", you tell Noah, and he just nods in agreement.

"This kid in unbelivable. Stopped crying because he'd be getting money from the tooth fairy", Noah pointed out and you both laughed at the smart ass reaction from your son.

Tag List: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mysterygirl-srl @lacy1986 @dream-machine-love @theanarchymuse95 @missduffsblog @xmads-omensx @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @pipidoll @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @kissestomyomens @hedonist-k1l @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @daemontargaryenwife @h0riz0nsiren @astronoids @flowery-mess @renegadebirch @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @jesuisunchaton @carrieontillmay

[flowery-mess]

a guy your boyfriend had met

Kole being her boyfriend was my first thought, omg is Noah going to steal her, I hope he will

As soon as Noah was back on his feet, blood painting his chin, the other guy launched forward like a freight train.

Noooo no more🥺

Kole crouched down quickly and snatched it up.

Damn Kole, let her have it so she can go to give it back and runaway with Noah

He didn’t even have time to catch his breath before the other fighter was on top of him.

Do you know that if you kill him in the first chapter then this can't turn into series?🥹

One of them opened his hand and shoved Noah forward like he was nothing but trash.

He hit the pavement hard, the sound awful and dull, and then he didn’t move.

Noooo baby🥺

“It’s better if you don’t ask anything. And it’s better if we never see each other again.”

She's going to come back just for you Noah🙃

The air felt immediately colder without his warmth beside you.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

You kept hearing his voice, low and rough, saying thank you like it was the first time anyone had tried to help him.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Of course a big yes to chapter 2🥹🥹🥹

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Summary: You’re dragged to watch an illegal fight, and after the match, you meet Noah, a fighter who seems to be battling more than just his opponents.

Tw: violence, blood, wounds, drugs/alcohol mentions

The building almost looked dead from the outside.

It was hidden deep in a forgotten corner of the industrial district, tucked between rows of abandoned warehouses and loading docks long out of use. It had no sign, barely any light, nothing that marked it as anything but another slab of concrete and rust.

The only hint that something was happening inside were the muffled voices coming through the metal door and the occasional chatting of people slipping in.

You stepped out of the car and pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. The wind bit through your sleeves, but Kole didn’t seem to feel it. He was already circling the front of the car with a grin plastered on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket like he was trying to play it cool.

He was dark-haired, his eyes green, dressed in black from head to toe except for the gray jacket he always wore. A trace of stubble darkened his jaw, the kind that came from not bothering to shave for at least two days.

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t be weird about it.”

You didn’t move right away. Your eyes lingered on the building.

Could you still walk away? Pretend you weren’t about to watch two men try to kill each other while strangers bet on who’d bleed the least?

Kole bumped your shoulder lightly.

“I told you, this place is insane. You’ve never seen anything like it."

You gave him a flat look. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

He laughed.

“C'mon. I’ve got two hundred on the guy fighting tonight. Undefeated. Everyone’s saying he’s a beast, fast as hell, never goes down.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And if he does?”

Kole grinned wider. “He won’t.”

He reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze, then started toward the building. You followed, reluctantly. The gravel crunched under your boots as you crossed the lot, the only sound besides those muffled voices growing louder the closer you got.

As you neared the metal door, someone slipped out, a man in a black hoodie, talking fast on a phone, his head down. He looked angry, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. You wondered if he’d lost a bet, or if someone had tricked him somehow.

You hadn’t even stepped inside yet, and you already hated the place.

Kole knocked twice.

A slot in the door slid open with a metallic rasp. A pair of sharp eyes peered out. They flicked to Kole, then to you, then back again.

Kole spoke first. “We’re good. Dean’s expecting me.”

Dean was one of the organizers of the illegal fights, a guy your boyfriend had met a few months earlier and seemed to have quickly become close with. He was the one who had introduced Kole to that world, telling him it was fun and that you could make good money if you knew how to bet, and bet with the right people. Kole had already been to three matches without you before that night.

A pause. Then the door creaked open just wide enough for the two of you to slip inside.

You were struck by the smell first: a mix of sweat, beer, smoke, metal (you wondered if it was blood, and you hoped not) and weed.

The place was big and the walls were streaked with faded graffiti and tinted yellow, like the place had been dipped in old whiskey. The ceiling was high, with led lights casting a warm glow over the room.

People were packed in tight, standing, laughing, drinking.

The ring at the centre wasn’t a ring at all. It was a square outlined with chain and caution tape, the floor inside scuffed and stained in too many places to count.

Kole tugged your arm.

“Come on. We need to get closer before it fills up.”

You didn’t move.

“Kole, this—”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off. “Just stick close to me.”

You let him pull you through the crowd. The voices got louder. You caught fragments of conversation, names, bets, someone bragging about how much cash they’d put down.

A man passed by with a clipboard, calling out something over the music. People handed over bills without hesitation.

You found a spot near the makeshift ring, the crowd pressing in tight all around.

Suddenly, Dean appeared beside Kole, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man,” he said with a grin. Then his eyes shifted to you. “Finally! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he added, nodding in your direction.

Kole smiled and introduced you quickly, but you barely caught the words over the noise.

Dean turned back to Kole. “Placed your bet?”

“Two hundred.”

Dean nodded, a knowing smile crossing his face. “Good call. Sebastian doesn’t stand a fucking chance tonight.”

Kole grinned wider. “Then everyone betting on him’s crazy. But good for me.”

Before you could say anything, someone called Dean’s name from behind. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at Kole.

“I gotta go. Enjoy the show,” he said, clapping Kole on the shoulder once more before disappearing into the crowd.

You turned back to Kole, trying to find some kind of comfort. He caught your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Relax,” he said quietly. “It’s not as bad as it looks. You’ll get used to it.”

You glanced around. The crowd was mostly men, gruff, loud, sizing each other up or lost in their bets. A few women were scattered through the room. One was pressed against a wall in the far corner, kissing a man fiercely. Another laughed with a bottle clutched in her hand.

As you were still scanning all the people in that place, Kole spoke again, his mouth close to your ear, his voice low so only you could hear. “There, see that guy? That’s Sebastian. Or Noah, whatever you wanna call him.” He nodded toward a tall figure on the other side of the room with his back mostly turned, speaking quietly to another man.

He had broad shoulders but didn’t look too muscular, he wore a black tank top and seemed covered in tattoos. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he lifted a hand to brush some strands out of his eyes.

He had a silver bracelet around one wrist, something simple that caught the light when he moved, and both his hands were wrapped in black tape.

His tattoos, unlike some of the harsher ones you'd seen around the place, looked almost softer, though you couldn’t make out the details clearly, they seemed to be flowers and leaves wrapped around his arms.

He turned around, and for a moment, his brown eyes met yours. They looked tired but not cold, just like someone who’d been through a lot and had nothing left to lose.

Kole didn’t seem to notice.

There was something softer about him, and not only the way his tattoos looked. Something that didn’t quite fit the image he was trying to project. He looked like someone playing the part of the scary fighter because it was expected of him, not because that was really him.

Then, he shifted his weight and turned slightly, continuing his conversation with the man in front of him like he’d never looked at you at all.

You leaned in a little closer to Kole, still watching the guy across the room. “Why are you so sure he’s gonna lose tonight?”

Kole gave a short laugh under his breath, like the answer was obvious. “Because you haven’t seen the guy he’s fighting yet.”

You opened your mouth to ask another question, but before you could get the words out, a loud metallic clang rang out, not quite a bell, more like someone slamming a steel bar against a pipe. The noise cut through the music and chatter, and almost instantly everyone turned toward the ring, voices rising and shouting.

You saw Noah stepping toward the makeshift ring, his movements calm, almost slow. He climbed through the chain barrier with ease, black-taped hands flexing slightly as he adjusted his stance.

Then his opponent followed.

If Noah was tall, around 6’3”, the other guy was towering. At least 6’8”, maybe more, and built like he was carved from concrete. His arms were huge, veins visible even from where you stood. He looked strong and he moved like he was sure he was going to win.

And just like that, it made sense.

You suddenly understood why Kole had bet against Noah. Why everyone probably had.

Because standing next to this guy, Noah really looked like he had no chance.

Noah stood still, head slightly lowered, hands loose at his sides. The other guy rolled his shoulders back and flexed his neck like he couldn’t wait to tear something apart.

Then the signal came.

No bell. No referee. They weren't even wearing boxing gloves or any dental protection. Just a shouted “Go!” from somewhere in the crowd, and they moved.

Noah darted forward first. Fast. Faster than you'd expected. He closed the space between them in a second and ducked low, slipping just under a wide punch that would’ve taken his head off. He twisted to the side and landed a quick jab to the ribs, nothing extremely heavy, but enough to make the bigger man grunt and pivot.

They circled.

Noah stayed moving, fast on his feet. The other guy was slower, but every swing he threw felt like it could break bone if it landed.

For a while, it was just movement. Dodging. Glancing hits. The thud of fists against ribs, the crack of footfalls on the stained floor. The crowd screamed every time someone got close to landing something big.

And then, Noah misjudged the angle, maybe by an inch. He went in again, too close this time, and the bigger man caught him.

A punch to the side of his face.

You heard it. That awful, heavy crack of skin on bone.

Noah’s head snapped sideways and he staggered. But before the cheers could even rise, he twisted back with a elbow that landed against the other man’s jaw. A small payback.

It wasn’t enough.

The bigger man slammed his shoulder forward, knocking Noah off balance, and then another hit, straight to the stomach. Noah went down.

He hit the floor hard, one hand catching himself, but there wasn’t time. The next punch came before he could stand. Then another.

Each one landed with a sickening sound, like something breaking.

Noah's opponent took a step back, chest heaving, not from exhaustion, but like he was just getting warmed up.

He turned slightly, raising both arms above his head, palms open as if inviting the crowd to praise him.

And they did. People screamed a name you couldn’t understand, drinks were thrown into the air, fists pounded the chains of the makeshift ring.

Noah pushed himself up again. Blood dripped from his mouth. He swayed on his feet.

The bigger man didn’t wait.

As soon as Noah was back on his feet, blood painting his chin, the other guy launched forward like a freight train.

A kick slammed into Noah’s side.

Noah’s body twisted before crashing to the ground with a thud, skidding across the floor.

He landed right in front of you.

You flinched, instinctively stepping back.

Something slid across the concrete, his bracelet. The silver one that had caught the light earlier. It had somehow come loose in the fall and now scraped its way toward Kole’s boots, stopping just against the toe of his black shoe.

Kole crouched down quickly and snatched it up.

You turned to him, staring. “That’s not yours.”

He grinned, holding the bracelet up between his fingers, letting it dangle in the air like a prize. “This night just keeps getting better, huh?”

“Kole, you can't —”

“I didn’t steal it,” he cut in, slipping the bracelet into his pocket. “I found it. On the ground. Finders keepers.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Noah was still on the floor, coughing, trying to push himself up again. His blood smeared the concrete just inches from your boots.

Noah pushed himself up again, barely. One knee under him, a hand gripping his ribs like it might keep them from shattering altogether. For a second, he found his footing enough to swing another punch.

But the other man saw it coming. He ducked easily, a smug grin stretching across his face like he was enjoying every second of this.

Then he drove a brutal fist into Noah’s ribs.

The sound was sickening, like a crack, or maybe just your imagination, but either way, it made your stomach turn. Noah dropped again, folding over his midsection, arms wrapped around his stomach as he collapsed.

He didn’t even have time to catch his breath before the other fighter was on top of him.

Straddling his chest, pinning him down, and throwing another punch at his face.

Noah tried to block it, but his arms were too slow.

And he punched him again.

His head jerked to the side.

And again.

Blood sprayed against the stained concrete.

He squirmed beneath the weight, tried to raise a hand to hit back, but the punches kept coming.

The crowd cheered and shouted.

But all you could see was a man covered in blood.

On the ground.

Defenseless.

Getting his face caved in.

There was so much blood.

It didn’t even look like a fight anymore. It looked like an attack.

The man on top had already won. It was obvious. Noah wasn’t resisting, wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t even moving anymore. Just jerks and spasms with every blow to his face or stomach.

And no one was stopping it.

You wondered what the rules were. If there were any.

You felt something twist in your stomach. Your mouth went dry.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I need air,” you said, barely loud enough to hear yourself.

Kole turned his head, distracted. “What?”

“I said,” you snapped, louder now, “I need air.”

And then you were moving, shoving through the crowd.

No one probably even noticed.

You were just one more body in the way.

You pushed past shoulders, dodged a man holding a beer who didn’t even glance at you.

You spotted a door at the back.

You hoped it was the exit.

You pushed it open and stumbled into the night.

The door creaked shut behind you with a dull clang, muffling the noise of the crowd just enough that you could finally think. The air outside was cold and sharp, but you welcomed it. It smelled way better than the stink of sweat and blood and beer inside.

The alley stretched out in both directions, empty and quiet. A few scattered streetlamps buzzed overhead, casting pools of pale yellow light that flickered slightly.

Trash bins lined the wall, dented and overflowing in places. A broken pallet leaned against a fence, a cracked bottle near the curb, glittering faintly.

You walked a few steps and sank down onto the edge of the curb. The concrete was cold beneath you. You pulled your coat tighter, but it didn’t help much. You stared at the ground, and you breathed.

In.

Out.

Slow.

Your heart was still racing, and your hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

What you saw in there, wasn’t even sport.

You tried to understand it. Why people would come here. Why they’d want to watch someone get beaten half to death for fun. For money.

Did they ever think about what it looked like after the lights went off? After the winner walked away, and the loser just... stayed down?

You swallowed.

You wondered if anyone had ever died in that ring. If anyone even cared.

It was nothing like the movies. There, the blood was fake and the bruises washed off.

People cheered because they knew it wasn’t real.

But this?

This was real, and it fucking sucked even just being there, even just watching.

You were still sitting there, hunched over, trying to breathe, when the door behind you burst open with a loud clang.

You flinched.

Two men stepped out, each one gripping Noah by an arm. His feet dragged limply behind him, feet scraping over the concrete. His head hung forward, chin against his chest, and his hair, dark and sweat-slicked, clung to his forehead in wet strands. His face was a mess of blood and swelling. One eye was nearly swollen shut, and his cheek was split open. Blood dripped from his nose and his mouth.

They barely even looked at you. One of them opened his hand and shoved Noah forward like he was nothing but trash.

He hit the pavement hard, the sound awful and dull, and then he didn’t move.

Just crumpled there. One arm bent awkwardly beneath him, the other lying useless at his side.

Then the men turned and went back inside, letting the door slam shut behind them.

You stayed silent for a moment, the only sound in your ears the quick thump of your heartbeat. He didn’t move. Not at all. For a fleeting second, your mind raced with the worst thought: maybe he was dead.

Slowly, you inched closer, careful not to rush or startle him. His face was pressed against the cold concrete, one cheek resting flat on the rough surface while the other was hidden beneath tangled strands of dark hair.

You dropped to your knees beside him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “Please, tell me you’re not dead,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Gently, you brushed the hair away from his face with your fingers, trying not to hurt him even more.

His eyelids fluttered open just as your hand made contact, but he didn’t look in your eyes.

“Not yet,” he mumbled.

A small relief washed over you.

He didn’t try to move. He just laid there, face bruised, lips split, blood drying in sharp red lines along his jaw and neck.

“I should probably… get you up or something,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to him.

No answer.

You swallowed and shifted forward an inch.

“Okay, I’m going to help you sit up, alright?” You paused. “Unless that’s a terrible idea.”

His lips barely moved. “They’ve had worse ideas tonight.”

You let out a faint breath that was almost a laugh, then finally reached toward him, slowly, gently, and slid your hand under his shoulder.

He groaned but didn’t protest, and with a little effort, you managed to ease him into a sitting position, his back leaning against the brick wall behind him. He winced through gritted teeth, one hand coming up to press lightly against his ribs.

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“S’alright,” he rasped, closing his eyes for a second. “Better than lying face-down in garbage.”

You sat back on your heels, watching him breathe. One of his hands wasn't covered anymore, and his knuckles were raw and red, the other was still loosely wrapped in torn black tape. The side of his face was already swelling.

“I have no idea what to do.” You said. And it was true. Obviously it was the first time you found yourself in the back of an illegal fight club with a beaten up guy.

His mouth curled faintly, more pain than smile. “It’s not the first time,” he said, “You don’t have to do anything.”

He looked like a kicked dog, half-expecting someone to come finish the job.

You didn’t know what to say. You just stared at him, and for the first time, up close, he looked back. Even with one eye nearly swollen shut, he met your gaze.

He was younger than you’d first assumed. Probably still in his twenties. You’d never seen someone look so young and so tired at the same time.

He was looking at you like he was trying to understand why you were still there, why you were trying to help him. Like it never happened to him before.

You found yourself wondering why he was even there. Why he did what he did. What his story was.

There was no way he did it because he liked it, you could see that written all over his bloodied face. In the way he sat slumped against the wall, exhausted.

He wasn’t like the guy who had beaten him. That man had raised his arms for applause, grinning. That man enjoyed it, Noah didn't. And not just because he lost.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a sudden rush of blood spilled from his nose. He coughed hard, blinking fast.

“Shit. Tilt your head forward,” you said quickly, reaching toward him but stopping just short of touching. “Don’t let it go down your throat.”

He nodded faintly and leaned forward, breathing heavily through his mouth. You looked around instinctively for something, anything, to stop the bleeding. You didn’t have tissues and your leather jacket couldn’t help.

You thought about it just for a moment, hoping you were not going to regret it.

Then, you stood up quickly, heat rushing to your face even though the air outside was biting cold. Your heart was still racing, your hands trembling slightly.

Honestly, it felt a little bit like you suddenly lost your mind. Because this wasn’t something you usually did:

stripping in a dark alley in the middle of the night for a guy you barely knew, a guy you saw for the first time less than an hour ago in a underground fight club. A guy whose name you only knew because someone else told you. If that was even his real name.

But there was nothing else. No tissues. No towels. No first-aid kit magically appearing out of the shadows. Just you, him, and the slow, steady drip of blood from his nose onto the dirty pavement. And the fact that you were a person with at least a bit of a heart, someone who hated seeing another human being suffer, unlike all those people back inside.

So you turned around, to have a second of privacy while undressing.

Your fingers moved quickly, unzipping your jacket and shrugging it off your shoulders. The cold bit into your skin instantly, but you ignored it. Then you pulled your shirt over your head in one smooth motion, balling it up in your hands. You were left in just your bra for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as the wind kissed every inch of exposed skin.

Then, you pulled your jacket back on, zipped it up to your throat, and exhaled a shaky breath as you turned back toward him.

He was still hunched over, blood slowly dripping between his fingers, and he hadn’t said a word. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed.

You dropped back down to your knees beside him, still holding your shirt in your hands.

You held it out to him carefully, not pushing it into his hands.

“Here,” you said.

He looked at the shirt in your hands like it was something he didn't deserve for a moment. Then, slowly, he reached for it.

His fingers brushed yours, and the contact was barely there but it was enough to make your breath catch, even if you didn't know why.

“Thank you,” he said.

Then he paused.

You saw it, the moment he noticed the smear of blood on your fingers. A small streak where his fingers had touched your skin.

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked up at you with a flash of something that almost looked like shame.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

You blinked, looked at your hand. It wasn’t much. Just a thin streak of red, already drying in the cold air.

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

Because it was okay. You hadn’t even noticed until he pointed it out. Maybe because, in that moment, you were too focused on him.

On the man who, if it weren't for you, would probably still be lying face down in a pool of his own blood. The man you knew probably wouldn't call anyone for help and would just stay there until someone else found him, maybe while throwing out the trash.

He nodded slowly, not quite meeting your eyes again. He looked down at the shirt, then raised it gently to his face, trying to stop the bleeding. You watched him as he moved.

You didn’t say anything else for a while. Just sat there as he used your shirt to stop the bleeding.

“What’s your name?” he asked then.

You told him, and he repeated it quietly, as if tasting the word, then gave you a faint, tired smile. “Noah.”

"Yeah, I figured."

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit exposed. “Yeah, first time. My boyfriend dragged me along.”

He shifted slightly against the wall. “You didn’t even see the match finish.”

You frowned. “It wasn’t exactly something I was enjoying. For a second I thought I might throw up.”

Only after answering did you register what his words really meant.

He had noticed.

Somehow, while lying on the floor, half-conscious and getting the life beaten out of him, he’d seen you leave. Was that even possible?

“How much did you win tonight?” He asked before you could say anything.

You shook your head. “I didn’t bet. Just him.”

He let out a low chuckle, then flinched for the pain. “You should’ve. It was obvious I was gonna lose.”

You frowned. “Why did you fight then?”

Noah gave a dry laugh. “This is all I've got.”

A dark alley, a fight club and body covered in bruises?

“Impossible.” you said.

He had to have a family, friends, a home somewhere. Right?

“You don’t know me.” he muttered.

And the way he said it… it felt like an answer to all the questions that had been racing through your mind.

No, he didn’t have anyone. No other options. No place to go.

You didn’t really know him. For all you knew, he could’ve been a criminal.

But something deep down told you he wasn’t.

He didn’t seem like someone who deserved to be thrown out like garbage, left bleeding and broken in a dark alley after getting beaten half to death.

A damp strand of hair kept falling into his eyes, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush it away with your fingers.

The bleeding from his nose had finally stopped, but then he shifted, just slightly, and let out a sharp hiss through his teeth.

“Fuck,” he muttered, one hand flying to his ribs. His jaw clenched, and his eyes (or eye) squeezed shut for a second.

You leaned in. “Ribs?”

He gave a faint nod, breathing shallow. “It'll be okay in a couple of days.”

“You need a hospital,” you said firmly, even though you already suspected what his answer would be. “They need to check you out. That could be serious.”

“No.” The word came out fast. “Out of the question.”

“You could have internal—”

“I said no.” He insisted. “I don’t have the money. And they’ll ask too many questions. I can’t risk that.”

You hesitated. “I want to ask many questions too.”

He looked away. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, softly, he said, “You shouldn’t.”

Your mouth opened, but before you could speak, he went on.

“You seem like a good person. So… don’t come back here. Don’t get involved.”

“I-”

“It’s better if you don’t ask anything. And it’s better if we never see each other again.”

Then, quieter still: “But thank you. For this. For staying. For giving a damn when nobody else did. I mean it.”

You exhaled, your breath fogging faintly in the cold air. "Is that your way to tell me to leave?"

“Yes. But before I need-” he paused, glancing at the damp concrete beneath him. “Can you help me up?”

You stared. “You’re joking.”

He shook his head once, slowly. “No joke. I just need to stand. Please.”

Your heart squeezed. Please. He didn’t look at you when he said it. There was something almost painful in how quiet the word came out, like he wasn’t used to asking anyone for anything.

“You’re insane,” you murmured. “You’re going to pass out the second you try to move.”

He didn’t answer. Just held your gaze, and waited.

And you just couldn't tell him no.

So you just slipped an arm around him, one under his shoulders, careful of his ribs.

He was heavy and incredibly tall. Your palm pressed briefly against his chest, and you felt the stickiness of old blood, dried and flaking now.

He hissed through his teeth, body trembling slightly, and his fingers gripped your jacket.

“Okay,” you whispered, grounding both your feet. “On three.”

It took longer than it should have. Every movement was careful and slow.

When he finally made it upright, he swayed.

You tightened your hold for a second, steadying him. His body was warm against yours despite the cold of the night.

You didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

Then, slowly, he took a half step back. You let your hands fall away as he reached for the wall, one palm bracing against the brick for support. He leaned into it.

“I’m good,” he said quietly. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

Just as you were about to say something, the door Noah had been thrown out creaked open.

You turned at the sound, seeing Kole stepping into the alley.

“There you are,” he said, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

You froze for half a second. Noah straightened a little, his fingers still splayed on the brick for balance.

Kole’s eyes flicked to him and stayed there. He let out a low whistle, dragging his gaze from Noah’s bruised face to the bloodied shirt.

“Damn, man,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You look like shit.”

Noah didn’t say a word.

“But,” Kole continued, shrugging with one shoulder, “you made me win two hundred bucks tonight, so... thanks for that.”

There was no real gratitude in his voice.

Kole turned to you again, like the interruption was over. “Come on,” he said, jerking his chin toward the street. “Let’s go.”

And just like that, he started walking.

No pause to see if you’d follow. No offer of a hand. No helo for the man covered in blood next to you. Just an expectation that you’d fall into step, like always.

You lingered for a second. Looked back at Noah.

He hadn’t moved. His eyes were on the ground now, jaw tight, face unreadable. You didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“Try to take care, Noah” you said softly. What a weird thing to say to a man who was fighting for a living.

For a moment, you thought maybe he wouldn’t look up. But then he met your eyes again.

"Yeah. You too."

You started walking away.

The air felt immediately colder without his warmth beside you.

You didn’t stop thinking about him the entire car ride home. Not even for a second.

Not when the lights of the city blurred past the window, not when Kole went on and on about how he should’ve bet more, how the guy didn’t stand a chance from the start, how easy money like that didn’t come around often.

“You dipped out before it ended,” Kole said, eyes on the road, voice casual.

You kept your gaze fixed outside the window. “I wasn’t feeling great.”

He hummed. “Yeah, it was pretty rough. That guy took a beating. Probably gonna piss blood for a week.”

You didn’t respond.

Kole glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

“Fine.”

A beat of silence. The hum of the engine filled the space.

“Didn’t think this stuff bothered you,” he added eventually.

You shrugged, still watching the city slide by. “I guess I never watched someone actually get hurt like that before.”

“It’s a fight,” Kole said. “They sign up for it. You think the guy didn’t know what he was getting into?”

“I’m not saying he didn’t,” you replied, your tone flat. “Just… doesn’t make it easier to watch.”

Kole scoffed under his breath, amused. “You’re getting soft on me.”

You didn’t answer.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, then smirked. “Don’t tell me you were rooting for him.”

Still, you stayed quiet.

“Babe.”

You finally looked at him. “What?”

He grinned. “Come on. He didn’t stand a chance. The second he walked in, you could tell. That’s easy money. I should’ve put down double.”

You looked back out the window.

“Right. Easy money,” you echoed quietly.

Kole didn’t notice the shift in your tone, or didn’t care. He kept going.

“You gotta learn to detach a little. It’s not ballet.”

You remembered the way Noah had staggered, ribs heaving, blood matting his hair.

You remembered the way he’d looked at you like you were the first person to treat him like he wasn't trash in a long time.

He shook his head, amused. “Come on. You’re not actually sitting there feeling bad for the guy?”

You didn’t answer.

He tapped your knee lightly with his hand. “Babe.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

Kole let out a short laugh. “Seriously?”

You turned your head just enough to glance at him. “Yeah. Seriously.”

You both remained silent until you got home.

You didn’t stop thinking about him even when you got into bed and Kole’s arm wrapped around you like nothing had changed.

Especially not then.

Because while his breath warmed the back of your neck and his hand rested heavy on your waist, your mind was still in that alley.

With him.

That man who, somehow, felt like he deserved better.

Who looked like a beaten-down stray too wary to trust kindness.

Who hadn’t asked for help, but hadn’t completely pushed you away either.

You kept seeing his face, bruised and tired but his eyes were still kind.

You kept hearing his voice, low and rough, saying thank you like it was the first time anyone had tried to help him.

You fell asleep thinking about him. And he was your first thought when you woke up.

You were definitely in trouble.

Chapter 2?

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08 @geminigirlfromfinland @bloody-spades

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper

[flowery-mess]

That would be me, either sleep facing me or put on a shirt😂 I don't wanna have a stare down half asleep with a fucking jesus

@floodflameschosen just gave me the funniest Noah thought. Imagine sharing a bed with bestfriend!noah, and when you wake up in the middle of the night you're startled by that fucking Jesus tattoo and slap or punch him in the back because you're still half asleep 😭

Noah: “Dude! What the fuck?!”

You: “I’m sorry! Your fucking Jesus on your back scared me!”

Noah: “So you hit me?!”

You: “I didn’t know it was you, dumbass!”

And everyone else in the house is just like “WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP?!” 😭😭😭

[flowery-mess]

Parents be like that’s my emotional support eldest daughter

[flowery-mess]

I missed one oh my god!!!!

he's so speak now/fearless/lover/midnights coded 🥺

We're sneakin' out into town

Holdin' hands, just killin' time

🥹🥹🥹🥹

He is! All of the songs I heard have this fairytale vibe, doesn't matter what the lyrics say, the vibe is there and it's him🥹

[flowery-mess]

more enchanted!noah songs 💕

let me add my little comments...

Time slows down whenever you're around

Well, can you feel this magic in the air?

It must have been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

// today was a fairytale

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

If you're out there, if you're somewhere

If you're moving on

I've been waiting for you every day since you've been gone

I just want it back the way it was before

// if this was a movie

wtf Lexi please explain this one I'm scared

You smile that beautiful smile

And all the girls in the front row scream your name

Morning loneliness comes around

When I'm not dreaming about you

// superstar

that song is about them 100%

and the two starstruck ones😭😭 hero is my weak spot, he sings that for her when they're at his place and he's just playing with the guitar, then suddenly he starts singing this song and she can't stop smiling at the fact that he knows the song, but also because it's so accurate