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hedonist-k1l · 1 day ago

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𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Series 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: fighting, blood, cheating

Series mastelist

It was still early morning. You were in the kitchen, sat at the small table, cupping your hands around your mug.

Kole stood leaning against the counter, thumbs moving rapidly across his phone screen, barely looking up. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he hadn’t said much yet, just grunted a “morning” when you walked in and he was already in the room.

He smirked at something on his screen. "I’m going to a match tonight."

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t wait up.”

“Alright.”

A moment passed. You took a sip of your coffee, trying to seem casual. Then he added, glancing up from his phone, “Word is your friend Sebastian has a decent shot at winning tonight.”

You froze with your mug halfway to your lips. Your eyes flicked to his, trying not to look startled. He was teasing you, sure, but that sounded like it was actually true.

Noah.

Noah was fighting tonight.

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t planned for this.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words were out of your mouth, trying to sound casual and not like you had been thinking about him every single minute since you last saw him. “What if I came too?”

Kole looked up for real this time. “You? You hate that place.”

“I know,” you said quickly, “I do. But... I don’t know. Lately, we haven’t really had time together. Between our work schedules and you being out most nights... I thought maybe we could just do something together, even if it’s just this.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

A pause. Then he shrugged, going back to his phone. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll pick you up after work.”

“Perfect.” You smiled.

You sipped your coffee again, and stared down into the dark swirl inside your mug. Your stomach was twisting.

Because you’d just lied to your boyfriend.

Because you knew it wasn’t about spending time with him. Not really.

It was about Noah. And about the fact you were really dying to see him again and wanted to make sure he was okay after the fight.

After a couple of hours, you were at the tattoo shop.

Amber sat on the other side of the counter, perched on a stool, sipping from a to-go cup she’d brought in from the café down the street. She was wearing a bright red leather jacket and had her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, twirling a sugar packet between her fingers, focused on what you were saying.

It seemed like Nick kind of liked Amber, he never said anything when she came by the shop, even if she wasn’t there for a tattoo, but just because she wanted to chat with you inbetween calls. And after she posted those stories of her new tattoo on Instagram, the shop’s account gained over a hundred new followers overnight. So really, no one could complain about her being around.

“…and then he just showed up here. Said he wanted to say hi and see the place.” You continued.

"That man is in love with you."

"Amber, what the fuck?"

"He borrowed his neighbor’s car, drove for an hour, and tracked down where you worked, armed with nothing but the name, just to see you."

You looked at her like she was delirious. "We are just friends."

"How can I believe you when you have that face when you talk about him?"

"What face?"

"A face of someone who is madly in love." She said before adding, "with someone that is not Kole. You’ve got that dumb little twisty look on your face. Like when you lied to your mom in high school and told her you didn’t like that guy from the gas station who wore leather bracelets.”

You gave her a deadpan stare. “That was one time.”

“It’s the same look,” she said.

You covered your face with your hands. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Amber laughed, moving her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “And also a bad liar.”

“He’s fighting tonight.”

She straightened. “And let me guess… you’re going?”

“Yeah,” you said, avoiding her gaze.

“With Kole?”

You hesitated. “I told him I wanted to go. To spend time together. But…”

Amber’s mouth twisted. “But really, you’re going for Noah.”

You didn’t say anything.

She sighed, soft but not judging. “You gonna tell Kole that?”

“I can’t. And I won’t. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I just want to be there.”

Amber’s voice gentled. “You mean you wanted to be wherever Noah was.”

“I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “It’s not like I planned this. I didn’t go looking for it. It’s just... God, when I’m with him, it’s like my brain shuts up. Everything goes quiet and he is so fucking kind and funny and sweet and he deserves way better that all of this. And I'm just—”

"In love with him." Amber finished your sentence.

You looked at her, said nothing.

And that silence spoke for you. Because Amber knew. You both knew.

"I don't know what to do," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You should break up with Kole.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands, fingers twisting the edge of a random piece of paper on the counter, until it tore. “I don’t even know if Noah likes me like that.”

Amber tilted her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Please stop.”

You didn’t look up.

“I’m serious,” she went on. “You’re telling me the man used the sidewalk rule, and you’re still wondering if he likes you?”

You gave a small, helpless shrug. “Maybe he’s just… like that.”

“Sweetheart, open your eyes.”

You covered your face again. “I can’t just walk away from Kole. I still... care about him, okay? When we got together we were just teenagers... basically kids. I basically grew up with him by my side.”

Amber’s voice softened. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just saying staying with someone you don’t love anymore is a slow way to kill both of you.”

That stung, mostly because it was true. You felt it in your chest, that ache you kept trying to ignore every time Kole kissed you and you were starting to feel nothing. And every time Noah looked at you and you felt everything.

“I just need time,” you said quietly.

Amber looked at you for a second. “Okay,” she said. “Just… don’t let it be too much.”

You nodded. “No. I’ll figure it out soon. I promise.”

“Good,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your wrist gently. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know. Thank you.”

There was a pause then, she didn’t say anything else for a moment, just sipped her coffee and looked around the shop like she was giving you the space to breathe. Then, with a small smile, she said:

“You know I’m gonna want to meet him, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Noah.”

You groaned. “Oh my God, Amber—”

“No, I’m serious,” she grinned. “You bring him to breakfast one day. I’ll be nice. I just wanna know what the hell kind of man makes you turn into this.”

You narrowed your eyes. “This?”

She gestured to your whole body, dramatically. “This. All blushy and dreamy and heart-eyed and trying to act like you’re not.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Yeah, cause that wouldn’t be weird at all. ‘Hi Noah, this is my best friend Amber, she thinks we’re in love and would like to interrogate you over pancakes.’”

Amber shrugged. “I mean, you are in love.”

You rolled your eyes. Just then, Nick, tattooing a woman’s leg a little ways off, called out, "Hey, can you come here for a second?"

You stood up and started to walk over.

Amber’s voice followed you. "Don’t do anything stupid tonight."

You sighed. "I’m not the one stepping into a ring to fight."

Miles and Theo stood in the building's biggest room, as Noah had promised them. The heavy punching bag hung low from the ceiling, swinging slightly every time it was nudged.

Noah watched them with an amused smile as they took turns throwing punches, with more enthusiasm than technique, their little hands wrapped in tape.

“Easy, easy!” he called out, stepping forward to show them how to keep their wrists straight. “You don’t want to hurt your hands. Punch with your whole body, not just your arms.”

Theo swung a bit too hard and staggered backward, both boys breaking into laughter.

“See?” Noah grinned. “This isn’t just about hitting hard. It’s about control. Balance. Timing.”

The kids exchanged mischievous looks, then started a mock boxing match with each other, giggling and dodging. Noah shook his head, trying to keep a straight face as Theo pretended to throw a knockout punch that sent Miles sprawling onto the ground.

“You guys are gonna be pros in no time.” he joked.

Then, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious as he crouched down a bit, to their level. “But hey, you need to promise me one thing.”

The boys nodded.

“No fighting in that place. Not in that ring. Not anywhere like it.”

Theo frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good place. People get hurt there. Really hurt. What they do, what we do... is not nice. Or funny. ”

“Okay,” Miles simply said.

“Promise me?” Noah pressed.

“Promise,” they said together.

Noah smiled softly, ruffling their hair. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

They kept punching the bag and pretending to fight for almost an hour. Then, they finally slowed down and sat on the ground to take a break.

Miles looked at Noah, his eyes curious. “Hey, have you seen that girl again?”

Noah chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead as he sat cross-legged between them. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.”

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s not your girlfriend yet, is she?”

Noah let out a long, amused sigh. “Still with that question, huh? No, she’s not.”

Miles exchanged a look with Theo, clearly unconvinced. “So, she’s gonna be at the match tonight? Mom said you’re fighting.”

Noah slowly nodded, “Yeah, I’m fighting tonight. But I don’t think she’s coming.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe she’ll come just to see you.”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You’re gonna win, right?” Miles asked.

“I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out.”

The fight club was already full of people by the time you arrived with Kole.

He slung an arm around your shoulders as you stepped inside, grinning as he spotted familiar faces. “Hey!” he called out, weaving through the bodies to reach a group of his friends. You followed close, but your eyes were already scanning the room.

He had to be here already.

Your gaze swept across the dimly lit corners, the fluorescent lights above the ring, the benches along the walls, and then you saw him.

Noah was seated on a chair in the far corner, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered like he was mentally someplace else. He wore a white tank top and black shorts, his hands already wrapped. When he lifted his head, as if he felt your eyes on him, your gazes locked.

And just like that, the rest of the noise faded.

Kole was still talking, laughing with his friends beside you but you almost didn't hear any of that.

“How much did you bet?” someone asked.

“Wait, on who?” another said.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, Sebastian’s got it in the bag tonight.”

"I'm not sure about that."

You tore your eyes away from Noah and smiled weakly at Kole. “I’ll be right back,” you said, already stepping away before he could ask where you were going.

Noah stood as you approached. “Hey,” he said, voice warm.

“Hi,” you replied, your heart suddenly loud in your chest.

He tilted his head a little. “Let me guess, your boyfriend dragged you here again?”

You shook your head. “No. I wanted to come. I knew you were fighting tonight.”

“So you came to watch me lose again.”

You smiled faintly, stepping a little closer. “I came to make sure you’re okay after the match. No matter how tonight goes.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Like maybe he didn’t know what to do with that kind of answer.

He gave a quiet laugh under his breath and shook his head. “I don’t know if I should thank you for coming, tell you I’m glad to see you… or tell you that maybe you shouldn’t have.”

You shrugged, your voice gentle. “Say whatever you want. I’m already here either way.”

There was a pause. Then he nodded once. “Okay. Then… thank you for coming. And yeah...” his voice softened, “I’m glad to see you.”

He started to lift a hand, slow and hesitant, like he meant to touch your arm, but he stopped just short, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead.

Before either of you could say anything else, someone shouted across the room.

“Sebastian! Let’s go, man! You're about to start!”

Noah turned his head at the sound, then glanced back at you. “I have to go.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you after the match?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He had started to turn when your voice stopped him. “Wait,” you said, reaching out and catching his hand gently. The tape was rough under your fingers, and he looked at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Then you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It was fast, spontaneous, maybe a bit reckless, but you didn’t care.

He froze for a moment, startled, and then his arms came around you. One hand rested carefully on your back, fingers pressing lightly, like he was afraid to hold on too tightly.

His skin was warm against yours. He didn’t smell like any particular cologne, not like the ones Kole always wore, just of sweat and cheat soap.

And when you caught yourself thinking that you could happily spend the rest of your life waking up to the scent of him, your head tucked against his neck, in bed, with him, you realized you were doomed.

Because Noah wasn’t Kole.

Noah was Noah.

And you loved Noah more with every passing day.

Because it didn’t matter what he smelled like, what he wore, or where he lived.

What mattered was the way his eyes had found you instantly the moment you looked at him across the room, the way he kept trying to tell you that you shouldn’t be there, not to push you away, not really, not anymore, but to protect you. (Not like your boyfriend, who would’ve dragged you there every night without a second thought.)

It mattered how the corners of his eyes crinkled into soft lines whenever you said something stupid that made him laugh. It was all the little things.

He didn’t say anything.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Good luck,” you whispered.

And then, just like that, it was over.

He gave you a little smile and a nod. And then he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the ring.

You turned back toward Kole, who was still laughing with his friends, his back to you. You slipped quietly back to his side just as movement in the ring caught your eye.

Noah climbed in, followed by his oppenent. The other fighter was a bit shorter, leaner, with tousled strawberry blond hair that curled slightly at the edges, and he looked at least few years younger, though in a place like this, age meant very little. What mattered was how fast you could hit and how long you could stay standing.

You barely had time to brace yourself. There was no bell, no formal start, like the first time you've been there. Just a voice somewhere in the crowd yelling “go!”

And they did.

The blond struck first with a fast jab. Noah dodged, slipped just left of the hit and came back with a jab of his own that landed clean on the side of the boy’s jaw. The crowd started screaming. Your hands clenched unconsciously at your sides.

Noah’s expression didn’t change, staying composed.

The next few blows were quick, rapid exchanges of fists and footwork, Noah always adjusting, always circling. He took a punch to the shoulder that made him grunt, but he didn’t back off. Another clipped his ribs, sharp enough to twist his torso, and you flinched hard enough for Kole to glance sideways at you. You barely noticed.

Then came a hit to his face, right to his cheekbone. You saw his head jerk to the side. A tiny spray of sweat flew off his temple, and blood bloomed along the edge of his cheekbone.

Your breath caught in your throat.

But Noah didn’t stumble.

He pressed forward, reading his opponent’s patterns now, finding the space between jabs. His fists landed, one to the ribs, another to the side of the guy's face. The blond staggered, tried to swing wildly, but Noah ducked low, stepped into his blind spot, and landed a punch to the gut that echoed through the room.

More hits came, the opponent's nose started bleeding a bit. Noah hit his jaw a couple of times. Then an uppercut, hard enough that the other boy lost balance. He stumbled sideways. People shouted, some for Noah, some not.

The blond lunged out of desperation. Noah caught the motion, sidestepped, and swept a leg, sending the boy down to his knees. He could’ve ended it right there, one final hit to the face and the boy would have gone out cold.

But Noah didn’t.

Instead, he stepped forward, caught the boy by the shoulders, and dragged him flat to the ground. He didn’t punch. He didn’t strike. He mounted, held the opponent down, his weight strategic and firm.

You felt a weird feeling in your heart.

He wasn’t brutal. He didn’t want to hurt him more, not like the man that kept hitting him when Noah was already on the ground, bleeding and basically passed out.

The guy tried to get up, to hit Noah, but it was all in vain.

A moment later, a voice rang out, “Winner by ground pin, Sebastian!”

People yelled, others started to give the money they bet to others. But all you saw was Noah, still straddling his opponent, arms hanging heavy as he lifted his head and scanned the crowd.

He was bleeding.

He was breathless.

And he was so fucking beautiful.

“Sebastian just made me win eighty bucks. Not bad, huh?” Kole said beside you, dragging your attention back to where you were, beside him, not where your mind kept slipping.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Not bad.”

Your eyes drifted back to the ring.

Noah was still inside, though he had shifted off his opponent, now sitting against the ropes, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths. The other boy was still flat on his back, his chest rising erratically, his face streaked with blood, but it was nothing compared to how Noah had looked that night, a month ago, when you’d found him outside, barely able to stand.

Two men entered the ring, ones you recognized instantly. They were the same ones who had dragged Noah out that night.

They moved in now without ceremony, grabbing the blond boy by the arms and pulling him up.

You didn’t need to ask where they were taking him, you already knew: the same alley where they had left Noah that night.

You flinched as they passed close to the edge of the ring. The boy’s feet dragged limply, one shoe half-off, blood dripping down his chin. His eyes were open but dazed.

Kole let out a satisfied chuckle and turned away, already pulling money from someone’s hand, some guy you didn’t know, smiling wide with cash fanned out in his grip.

You looked at Kole, then away.

When you glanced back toward the ring, Noah was gone.

You blinked, scanning quickly left and right, standing up on your toes for a better view through the crowd.

He wasn’t by the ropes.

Not by the benches.

Not near the back wall.

Had he really just left? Without saying anything to you?

Then an idea hit you.

Your eyes darted toward the far side of the room, to the chair where you’d seen him sitting before the match. There, a black hoodie, simple, with a random drawing on it, slung carelessly over the backrest. You didn’t hesitate.

Kole was still talking with Dean, and you didn’t even say anything to him, you just turned and slipped away through the crowd, your hand closing around the hoodie as you passed.

It was still warm in places. You pulled it tight to your chest.

Then you walked towards the back door and pushed it open.

The alley behind the fight club was dark. The stars above were barely visible through the creeping gray clouds, and the rain was beginning to fall and hammer against the concrete around you.

You stepped out, letting the door swing closed behind you.

There, down at the end of the alley, was Noah.

And he wasn’t alone.

The blond guy was sitting on the ground, slumped back against the wall, his legs half-stretched in front of him, his chest still quickly rising and falling, damp strands of hair sticking to his bloody forehead. And Noah was walking toward him with slow and quiet steps.

The younger guy lifted his head, catching sight of him, and flinched. He tried to jerk upright, a sharp reflex of fear, but his body didn’t cooperate, and he collapsed back down with a wince.

"Fuck", he whispered to himself.

“No, no,” Noah said gently. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

He crouched in front of him, lowering himself to his level.

“You alright?” he asked. “Anything broken?”

The blond hesitated, blinking at him through the thin drizzle. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“You sure? Your head okay?”

“It’s pounding,” He admitted after a second, “but I’ll live.”

A beat passed. Then a weak laugh. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You hit hard, man.”

Noah let out a soft huff of breath. The rain had started to soak through his hair, flattening them against his forehead. He pushed them back absently with one hand.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Elijah.”

“Well, Elijah…” Noah straightened a little, rising to his feet and extending a hand. “Can you stand?”

Elijah looked at the hand like it was something strange. Then, slowly, he reached up and took it.

Noah pulled him up with careful steadiness.

Elijah wobbled once on his feet but managed to stay upright. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I think I’m good."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, sure."

“Good,” Noah said, giving his shoulder a little pat.

Elijah gave him a little smile. “Thank you, man.”

Noah glanced toward the sky, squinting as the rain began to fall harder, now cold and persistent. He looked back at Elijah, then tilted his head toward the end of the alley.

“You should go,” he said quietly. “Before you catch a cold too.”

Elijah nodded once, then started to walk away with a quick, last wave.

You hadn’t moved, still frozen near the door with Noah’s hoodie clutched to your chest. The rain had found you now too, cold drops threading through your hair, dampening your clothes.

And then Noah turned, finally seeing you.

You took a slow step forward, then another, the sound of your shoes soft against the wet ground. The hoodie was still clutched to your chest, damp now where the rain had kissed it.

“Hey,” you said gently. “Thought you might want this.”

He looked at it for a second, then reached out and took it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours.

“Thanks.”

You gave a faint smile in return.

“What you just did…” you said, “that was really kind of you, making sure he was okay.”

Noah looked away for a moment, “He was just a kid,” he said after a second. “Like I was. Like a lot of them are.”

He shook his head once. “I don’t want to be the kind of fighter that forgets there’s a real person on the other side.”

You stayed silent for a moment.

“You’re a good man, Noah.”

Your voice was soft, almost lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement and the distant hum of traffic, but he heard you. You saw it in the way his shoulders tensed just slightly.

He started to shake his head, already gearing up for protest. “You—”

“No.” You cut him off gently, “Before you say ‘you don’t know me’… I don’t care. Because that’s not true. Not anymore.”

You took another step closer, and his eyes met yours.

“I do know you, Noah,” you said. “And every moment I spend with you… I think you are a good person a little more. I don't care about anything else.”

His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

“Don’t,” he said eventually.

You frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me feel like I deserve to be with someone like you.”

“But you do.” you said, and the words came without hesitation.

He didn’t answer.

The rain kept falling, more gently now, soft and rhythmic against the concrete and metal.

You moved even closer, your body almost brushing his, and your eyes dropped to the bruising along his cheekbone. Even in the dim alley light, the purplish-black stood out stark against his skin.

You lifted your hand, slowly, so he could stop you if he wanted, and let your fingertips touch his cheek. Just beneath the bruise. Light. Careful.

“Look at this,” you whispered. “It’s almost black.”

He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something else. “In a week it’ll be gone.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, your thumb brushing ever so gently across the curve of his cheek. “But I still see it now.”

His hand, still wrapped, came up slowly, almost hesitantly, and covered yours, pressing your palm more firmly to his face. His fingers curled slightly, holding your hand like there. His brown, almond shaped, eyes searched yours in the dark, the rain tracing paths through his hair, across his skin.

Your gaze dropped to his lips without meaning to. They were parted slightly, his breath shallow, warm against your skin in the close air between you. He leaned in just a little, and you didn’t move, couldn’t have if you wanted to.

His forehead almost touched yours, the space between you thinning to nothing.

“You’re with someone,” he murmured, the words brushing your lips.

“I know,” you whispered.

He didn’t pull away. His eyes searched yours, like you didn’t make any sense but somehow he still could understand.

“And you’re not happy.”

“I know.”

You felt his breath again, so close, just a hair away from a kiss.

But then, slowly, he pulled back.

Just barely. Just enough.

His warmth slipped away.

Your hand slipped from his cheek, falling to your side. Cold rushed in to replace the heat of his skin against your palm.

Noah took a step back.

“We should go back inside.” he said.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Right.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, like there was still something he wanted to say. But instead, he just nodded toward the door behind you.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you something to dry off.”

“Alright.” Was all you could say.

So you followed him.

The hallway he lead you through was narrow and dark, the sound of the crowd still faintly audible from the other side of the walls. Noah pushed open another door, revealing a locker-room-type space, small and a bit cluttered.

The walls were painted a dull, industrial gray, parts of the paint chipped from years of wear. Lockers lined one side, dented and scuffed, names and stickers and scratches covering most of them. A bench ran the length of the room, bolted into the concrete floor, with a couple old folding chairs pushed to the corners.

“This is where we change before the matches if we need to,” Noah said, giving a small shrug as he crossed to one of the lockers and opened it. “Glamorous, I know.”

He turned, holding a towel, large, old, but clean , and before you could take it, he tossed it directly over your head. The thick fabric landed with a soft thud, and you burst out laughing.

“Hey!” you said, your voice muffled under the towel.

You couldn’t see anything, but you heard his quiet laugh, warm and unguarded, and it made your chest squeeze.

“You’re welcome.” he said, still chuckling.

You pulled the towel down so you could glare at him, or try to, but you were still smiling.

“Very mature of you,” you said.

“Extremely,” he replied, and sat down on the bench with his towel in hands, patting the spot beside him. “Come on, sit before you drown in that thing.”

You joined him, your clothes damp, your hair already soaking the towel draped over your shoulders.

You stole a glance at him. He rubbed the towel roughly through his hair, drying it in uneven swipes. Drops of water still clung to the ends, dripping occasionally onto his shoulders.

He let out a low grumble as he grabbed the hem of his tank top, the fabric soaked and clinging to him like a second skin. “This thing’s glued to me,” he muttered, half to himself.

You watched as he peeled it off with a grunt of effort, tossing it in a heap near the locker. Now shirtless, he stood for a second, drying his arms and chest with the towel, then sat back down.

And you looked.

You couldn’t not look.

His torso was a map of ink, you could see roses, a sketon, a lantern, the word "desolate". You wondered if some of the colors you saw were part of the tattoos or bruises.

You knew you should look away. You told yourself to. But you didn’t.

Because a part of you was still stuck on the way his face had moved closer to yours earlier. On the way you were about to kiss.

And now you were in this room. Just the two of you. Both soaked. And he was sitting beside you, shirtless, dripping, beautiful.

“You kinda look like one of those long-haired dogs when they take a bath,” you said instead, chuckling, because sometimes saying something so stupid helped push your thoughts away.

He let out a laugh. “Wow. Okay.”

“I mean it in a good way.”

“Uh-huh. You should’ve seen me when I had long hair.”

You sat up. “You had long hair?”

“Yep.”

“Like… shoulder-length?”

“Try mid-back. Maybe even longer.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way. You’re lying. I need to see this. Do you have pictures?”

“Pfft. No. I haven’t even had a working phone in over a year.”

You groaned. “So the only way I’ll ever see it is if you grow it back.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“They were always in my face. I cut them off with a pair of scissors I found in a supermarket. Kitchen aisle.”

You laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I swear. It was the most satisfying haircut I’ve ever had.”

“Do you still have the scissors?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m gonna steal them.”

“Alright. Note to self...keep my utensils locked. You already broke into my building once, now you’re coming for my knives?”

“Nothing is safe from me.”

He smiled, looking down at his hands. The wraps were still there, soaked and clinging to his knuckles. He tugged at one with his teeth, but the knot resisted. You reached over.

“Let me.”

He hesitated for half a second. Then he let go and let you take his hand.

The bandages were damp and clinging, and your fingers brushed warm against his skin as you started to unwind them. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

“You ever did braids?” you asked then.

He groaned. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope. I know you did.” You said as you kept unwinding the damp wrap, careful not to tug too hard where the skin looked red underneath.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, half-laughing.

You smiled, eyes on his hand. “You totally did pigtails at least once.”

He just sighed.

Then he looked down at your hands again.

“You’re good at this,” he said.

You glanced up. “Unwrapping hands?”

“Yeah but, I mean” he nodded toward his hands. “You're good at being gentle.”

Your thumbs lightly brushed the back of his knuckles.

“Only with some people,” you said.

You’d found this weird rhythm with Noah, some uneven mix of insults and sarcastic remarks, quiet moments that felt too vulnerable, and small touches that said more than most words ever could.

And you liked it.

So you stayed there a little longer.

While somewhere else in the same building, Kole was laughing with his friends, a bottle in one hand and a pretty girl with dark curls perched on his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist as he told her yes, of course they’d see each other again, his girlfriend would never find out.

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 @rumoured-whispers @astronoids

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper @overmydeadbodysblog @fear-its-beauty @xslavicprincess @concreteangel92 @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol @tktstomydwnfall @jesuisunchaton @brutallysoftmuse @acatatonicpeace @spookieolson @dontwantthemoney

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hedonist-k1l · 2 days ago

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hedonist-k1l · 2 days ago

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Rewatching Boruto for Sakura/Sasuke moments ❤️

#naruto #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #sakura haruno #boruto

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hedonist-k1l · 2 days ago

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last time I was scrolling on pinterest and I stumbled upon that pic of Noah, with long hair, stripped shirt and makeup on, with blue neon lighting in the back, do you have the VISION? And now all I can think about is straddling his lap and doing his makeup, he'd be such a good boy all 🥺, letting me experiment with colors, liners and glitters and he'd look so fucking pretty like this, it'd lead to a heated and passionate make out session and MORE 🧎‍♀️ this could fit in the rockstar!noah x popstar!reader or something like this?? idk?? please Lexi, release me from my sweet torments 🧍‍♀️

UGH THIS WHOLE THING I LOVE, and the photoshoot is perfect hehe. I wanted to pair the idea with this, I hope you enjoy bb 🤲💕

CW: includes mentions of cockwarming, unprotected sex, noah whimpering and begging, noah wearing make up, overstimulation, light smacking and biting.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Stay still,” you warn, gripping Noah by the chin, but the way his hips flex beneath you brings a smirk to your face, feeling how he struggles to keep himself composed while buried deep inside you, as you take your sweet time applying the eyeliner you hold between your fingers.

When he fails a second time to follow your one request—to remain still—you meet his cheek with a slap. Not too hard, but enough to leave a faint red glow and draw a needy groan from him.

“I did warn you. Stay still, or I’ll slap and bite you,” you say in a sing song taunt, leaning in close enough for your breath to brush his lips. He cranes his head toward you, licking his lips as if seeking a kiss. “Not yet,” you murmur, squeezing your walls around him, watching his eyes roll back, just enough to briefly satiate him so you can continue. Black painted fingernails dig into your hips as he arches his own, and you feel the way his thick cock throbs and pulses inside you while he clings to the last shreds of self-control.

It’s not the first time you’ve ended up like this, cockwarming him in one way or another, but it’s certainly new when it comes to experimenting with applying makeup on his pretty face. His long hair is held back as you take your time, and just the slightest shift or rock of your hips is enough to make him cling to you and groan all over again, slowly coming apart at the seams.

“Please…” he gasps, and you know exactly what he’s begging for—relief, a kiss, some form of attention that isn’t just you teasing him like this, but when he shifts again—this time purposely, and causes you to mess up the flick of the cat-eye liner you’re giving him, you dip down and bite at the exposed area of his throat. Your mouth presses firmly, teeth sinking into his skin as your tongue rolls over the sensitive spot of his pulse point, feeling it flutter beneath the muscle.

You hear the gasp followed by a moan, a whimper slipping through as he fights to hold on, his brain growing hazy from the attention and the ‘punishment’ you continue to inflict. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, and when you pull back, it’s with soft satisfaction.

“Pucker up,” you instruct next.

You’ve managed to keep him still long enough to finish the eyeliner—the sight of him now something pretty, bordering on ethereal like this. As he puckers his lips for the lipstick, you thread your fingers through his long hair, cradling the back of his head gently while you slowly apply the shade you deemed fitting for him.

He’s trembling beneath you, and you can’t resist commenting on it, only for his breath to come out just as shaky, as he replies, “I… I can’t help it.”

That earns him another squeeze, and you purposely grind down against him, slow and torturous. It drives his eyes into the back of his head and pulls a desperate whimper from his throat. You can’t help but wish you’d been recording all those beautiful sounds, especially with upcoming songs on the way. They’d make a delicious addition to slip in.

“Now all you need is a little blush.”

You feel warmth spilling out into you, the wetness between your walls and thighs building from how much cockwarming has him leaking, but you continue to draw out the process. Carefully, you apply the right shade to your lips before cupping either side of his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to one cheek, leaving a perfect lipstick mark behind.

With your thumb, you smudge it across his cheek, blending it like a makeshift highlighter along his cheekbone. You take a moment to marvel at your work with an appreciative hum, then repeat the process on the other side.

“Look how pretty you are,” you muse, your fingers combing through his hair as you bring it forward to frame his face. You admire the sight before you, Noah looking as pretty as ever in your freshly applied makeup, and you can’t resist rewarding him and yourself.

The best part about dressing him up is being the one who gets to mess it all up when you’re done, and you do exactly that by starting with a searing kiss, one that takes him off guard at first, yet you feel the way he melts beneath you, his cock twitching, the ache to cum only intensifying as you start to rock your hips. When you pull back and find his lipstick already smudged, you let out a soft hum of appreciation, using your thumb to smear it further across his lips and around his mouth.

“God, you look so pretty fucked out of your mind like this.”

You’re not even fucking him, not really, and maybe that’s what makes it all the more delicious. Especially when you see the tears beginning to form in his eyes, causing the mascara and eyeliner you’d so carefully applied to start running.

“Look at that,” you breathe, marveling at the sight as you continue to rock slowly, drawing it all out.

“Please…” he pleads, soft and desperate. “I need to cum. Please, I need to cum so badly. I want you to make me cum…”

It’s like music to your ears, hearing him this way, how easily he falls in line when you’re on top and in control like this.

“Mmm.” You act as though you’re pondering, drawing it out until he’s practically sobbing his begs. The once perfect makeup is now streaks of color down his cheeks, only making him look more beautiful as he tries to hold off his climax.

With a teasing press of your palm to his stomach, you feel the way his muscles flex, and then he loses completely to the fight. His entire body trembles violently beneath you as the wave of his orgasm rips through him, the warmth of his cum spurting deep inside you. Your walls tighten around him purposely, milking him as he falls back, helpless to stop you from driving him into complete overstimulation.

“That’s it, baby,” you purr, leaning over him. “You’re gonna be a good, pretty baby and give me everything?”

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hedonist-k1l · 3 days ago

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Diagnosis • Sebastian

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (this idea may make you uncomfortable so pls don’t read if it does- in irl it makes me uncomfortable lol- but this is pretend and Dr. Davis is made up.)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

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hedonist-k1l · 3 days ago

Text

intimate silence I • n.s

pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

words: 7.8k - part 1/2

warnings: (general warnings for part 1 and 2) 18+, angsty shiz, (years of unsaid feelings), smut, making out, fem!receiving, male!receiving, p n v, creampie, mentions of drinking, friends to lovers

prompt: After seeing each other for the first time in years, all the old feelings you tried to bury come flooding back. Noah admits he regrets not choosing you, especially when he’d felt the same way all along. Perhaps years of intimate silence weren’t the end… just the prelude to everything you were always meant to be. (This is like* a part 2 of desolate love - same vibes and storyline-ish.)

You hadn’t anticipated him being at the pub as you walked in. It had been years since you last saw him, and surely many more since he last thought of you.

Yet, when you followed the server to your designated booth, only to pass his- his gaze latched onto yours. Your lips parted with recognition, heart immediately racing when his smile made way to his eyes.

It was hard to decide whether to stop amidst the bustling tables and scattered voices in the restaurant; but when he reached out his hand to touch your arm, hesitating for a mere moment before turning it into a subtle wave- you stopped.

"Noah?" you breathed his name as he took in your face with his dark eyes, unsure whether he was searching or reminiscing over past memories. You glanced at the others at his table, offering a brief nod before looking back at him shyly. He chuckled softly, disbelief colouring his expression, as he leaned his elbow on the chair's headrest.

"Date night?" he asked, his gaze shifting to the man behind you, prompting an awkward cough as you stepped aside, letting your friend join in. Shaking your head while exchanging a glance with the hostess at your booth, you laughed nervously and looked away from Noah.

"No-just drinks with friends." Your mind spiraled with the accusation, and the hint of something lingering within his words tugged at your throat.

The brunette noticed you fidgeting with your sweater sleeve and nodded, "Well, it's nice to see you. It's been a long time."

Meeting his stare, you offered a stiff yet warm smile, "Yeah, it has."

You glanced at the hostess again, apologetically raising your hand before heading toward your booth, leaving behind the tangled threads of old emotions. "I—I shouldn't keep her waiting. Nice seeing you, too."

As you walked away, there was an unspoken sentiment that seemed to surge between you two. You felt Noah's gaze linger on your retreating form, and despite the peculiar stirring of forgotten feelings, you were gently cocooned back into the familiarity of your friends’ laughter as you slid into the worn leather of the booth.

You tried to shake off the flush of surprise that still heated your cheeks, and across from you, your friend observed the disarray with a curious gaze, his brows furrowing as he leaned in.

"You okay?" he asked, dropping his voice so the clamor of the pub's crowd swallowed his words.

You met his eyes and nodded stiffly. "Yes, just... haven't seen him in a long time."

"I can see that," your friend responded, his gaze flicking momentarily in the direction you had come from, then returning to you with a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was a gentle tease, immediately soothing away the tension that knotted your heart.

Across the room, a new round of drinks arrived at Noah’s table, followed by a chorus of laughter. Glancing over, you watched as he lifted his glass in a toast, his gaze straying once again towards your booth. The soft glow from the pub lights made his features appear less harsh than you remembered, shaping half-forgotten memories into something akin to nostalgia.

"Old flame?" Your friend's words snapped you back from your thoughts. There was a taunting lightness in his tone that said he guessed more than what he dared to ask outright.

"Something like that," you admitted, idly toying with the flimsy drink coaster before you.

"He never really left your thoughts, did he?" His words tinged with curiosity.

Your face warmed at his comment, subconsciously glancing over at Noah once more as if to confirm something you hadn't voiced out loud in years.

"Not really," You confessed, heart clenching as you sucked in a breath- something that felt harder to do now that Noah kept flicking his eyes back to your table.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with your drinks; a timely distraction. But as jokes flitted across your table and ice clinked in your cocktail, a shadow of melancholy slipped into your chest.

Your friend's voice cut through the low hum of pub conversations, contrasting the bought of laughter from Noah’s table. “Did you ever date?” He asked nonchalantly.

You gave him a curt shake of your head, savoring the tartness of your drink. “No," you replied, with a rueful smile.

"But you wanted to?"

His question was more a statement and you could only nod, the sudden knot in your throat making words impossible. He watched you in silence, allowing you a moment to regain your composure.

"He didn’t choose me," you finally managed, swirling your drink in your glass. "He liked someone else at the same time. Things were complicated.”

Your eyes scanned the pub's old wooden ceiling, following a vague pattern in its grooves as if it held answers. Suddenly feeling Noah’s gaze on you again, the tight fluttering in your chest resurfaced.

"Does it still feel complicated?" Your friend asked gently.

"Uh…No..." The lie came out hollow even to your ears, and the man across from you rolled his eyes.

"You're a terrible liar," he reproached lightly, reaching across the table to pat your hand, causing you to sigh.

"He is part of my past," you reasoned out loud, more for yourself than to convince your friend. “I moved on to date Erin, until well… you know…and as far as I know Noah is still with his girlfriend of three years.” The words fell heavy against the illuminating candlelight flickering in between the two of you.

"You don't hate him though?" He asked. A question you knew wasn't really a question.

"Hate him?" you shook your head as you scoffed, almost bitterly. “I tried to.”

Your fingers traced the outline of the coaster as you continued, "But hating him would have meant to forget all the good times- remove all the annoying memories of him that still seem to live in my mind. And...I didn’t want to do that. I don’t want to do that." you confessed, fighting the lump forming in your throat. "I'd rather remember and hurt than forget and feel hatred."

There was a pause as your friend digested your words, looking at you as if he were seeing a different side of you, one he never knew existed.

"But doesn't it just hurt," he began carefully, “to keep remembering?”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you watched the bubbles gently float to the top of your glass. "Sometimes," you admitted, turning your gaze back to Noah. His laughter echoed across the room, drowning out the music momentarily. A smile tugged at your lips unknowingly.

"Then why keep doing it?" he questioned further.

It was when Noah made another loud joke to his friends that he turned once again, meeting your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night- that you caved.

“Because the way he has looked at me never changed. Not through relationships, not through time apart- never. There is always that same annoying and infuriating look of hope.”

"Hope?" Your friend repeated, tilting his head as he wrapped his hand around his glass, fingers tapping lightly against the surface.

You nodded, stealing another glance at Noah. He was leaned back in his chair now, a relaxed smile on his face that countered your turmoil, unravelling you with every gaze he cast your way.

"It's the kind of hope that asks 'what if'," you explained, voice low and barely audible over the commotion of the pub around you. "What if things were different? What if we had chosen each other? Like an opportunity lost, but not entirely forgotten."

The man across from you was contemplative, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink before leaning in closer to you. "What does that look like? This hope you see in his eyes?"

You pondered over his question, swallowing thickly as you tried to form words that would make sense to him, let alone you.

“It’s like this lidded gaze- a soft shine of longing subdued by realism that has never entirely disappeared. It’s a look that says he still sees what he saw in me when we were just kids in high school- like I’m still important to him, in some way. It tells me he understands that even when it seemed like I moved on, he knows deep down that I really didn't. And neither did he. And it's not right. But it’s too late."

It was silent for a moment as you fought the water treading within your eyes, chugging the rest of your drink as a distraction.

"That's a lot to collect from a look," he said eventually, observing your flustered expression with raised brows.

"I’ve had a long time to think about it," you conceded with a shrug, ripping the edge of your coaster absently. But inside your chest, your heart beat a frantic rhythm that suggested it agreed with your words.

Your friend glanced towards your unease, watching how Noah pretended he was never really looking over at your table. "And if he weren't in a relationship now? If circumstances were… different?"

Your reply, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "Doesn’t matter," you lied, heart pounding against your ribs as the truth nudged at your denial.

"Even if things were different… he never chose me. Refused to. Told me he promised someone else his heart after high school."

"And you still hold it against him?" The question hung heavy in the air, though your friend's tone was light, almost indifferent.

"No," You denied, feeling a twinge of pain claw at your chest. "I suppose... I have come to terms with it. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to choose me. He never had that high school girl anyway, either. She moved on before him."

"But you haven't moved on." The words slipped from your friend’s lips as an affirmation. His gaze wandered back to Noah, where another round of laughter punctuated the air.

You stared at your empty glass, chewing on your lower lip as the silence festered. For a moment you considered denying it, but what use was there in pretending when the truth was palpable in every word?

"No," you sighed, looking back at Noah. "I guess not. Not really."

Your friend nodded understandingly, tossing back the remaining contents of his glass before placing it back onto the table.

“Well,” he started, and you turned to look at him as he refilled his drink from a bottle that had been ignored until now. “In this life, we rarely get second chances with things that truly matter.”

It was then Noah stood up from his table, turning to cross the room. His stride was slow, confident, a stark contrast to the unease in your chest. His eyes were on you, and you pretended not to notice. Your friend did, though.

A sudden feeling of dread crushed your heart as you followed his frame out of the corner of your eyes, the shadows stretching out on the worn-out wooden floorboards.

"Why is he heading here?" you whispered, not daring to voice your suspicion too loudly, as if to break the bubble surrounding both of you.

Your friend merely shrugged, a sly grin replacing his earlier curiosity. "No idea. But I am eager to find out," he said, leaning back into his chair and taking a sip from his drink, all whilst watching Noah’s approaching figure as though it were an intriguing spectacle. As Noah got closer, your pulse quickened its pace, pounding rhythmically against your chest while your mind raced in frantic circles.

He smiled at you for a moment before nodding at your friend, flicking his short brunette strands out of his eyes.

“Uh hey, my friend’s are about to head out…” He said, throwing a thumb back to the crew that was now throwing him half amused glances and thumbs-ups. He glanced back at you, "and I'd really appreciate the opportunity to catch up. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Your friend looked at you, your widened eyes meeting his amused gaze before he shrugged and gestured to the vacant seat next to him, sliding further into the booth, “By all means,” he invited.

“Thanks.” Noah nodded gratefully, taking the seat beside your friend, and now sitting across from you.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he added, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Not at all,” your friend assured him, though his eyebrows remained slightly arched.

You gripped your empty glass tighter in your hand, swallowing down the sudden dryness in your throat. “Yeah, Noah… it’s been forever,” you managed to croak out in what you hoped passed for casual indifference.

He flashed a quick smile at your words, his eyes crinkling around the edges. Beneath the guise of casual banter, the years that had passed were muffled whispers hidden in plain sight.

"Yes, it has been," Noah responded, while his gaze danced over you, "How’s life been treating you?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to cloak your nervousness under feigned ease. "Oh you know, ups and downs. Mostly well."

A smile played on your friend's lips, a look of knowing graced his features as he stared at the exchange between you two.

"Same here," Noah replied, sipping from his glass.

A skillfully avoided conversation unfolded between you, where inquiries about work and general well-being served as shields against the veiled curiosity itching to break free.

Your chest clenched again, and as the waitress came over to give you another drink, you took the opportunity to head to the washroom.

Your friend watched you rise from the booth, catching your eye in a silent exchange that offered reassurance. Noah politely nodded as you slipped out of the booth and disappeared into the crowd.

Locking the door behind you, you took a moment to collect yourself, splashing water on your face in an attempt to steady your racing heart.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how Noah just waltzed back into your life after all these years, bringing rainstorms of feelings you had worked so hard to forget- yet really didn’t.

In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, you saw a ghost of your younger self, the one who spent hours decoding Noah's glances and gestures. The one who would stay up late just to watch his favourite shows so you had something to talk about. The one who would wear his sweaters because he said they looked better on you. The one who obsessed over his lingering touch and flirty banter.

The one who was not good enough.

Overwhelm washed over you like cold water, stealing your breath. You pressed your palms onto the edge of the sink, clenching your jaw as you wrestled with the torrent of emotions that roared through your veins.

With a quiet sigh, you patted down your face with a rough paper towel and straightened your sweater. Ducking your head, you drew another deep breath.

This was just Noah. Just a boy from your past. Just Noah.

Slipping back into the booth, you offered them a small smile before turning towards Noah who seemed genuinely involved in the story your friend was narrating. The air was lighter now; there was an ease that settled around the table as rounds of laughter traveled between the three of you while your friend indulged Noah in stories about a mutual friend who had recently moved out of town. You took occasional sips from your drink, contributing where necessary while primarily focusing on observing the somewhat restrained interaction between Noah and your friend.

You welcomed the change in atmosphere. No sparks were flying around or deep murmurs floating in the air, nor heavy gazes locked onto each other. It was simple, casual – as mundane as any other night at the pub could have been.

Yet in the lulls of conversation, Noah's gaze met yours; keenly observant but surreptitiously so. There remained a certain intensity that made you uncomfortable and yet to evade it, felt unnatural. It was like there was an undercurrent running beneath his apparent nonchalance, manifesting as veiled glances and half-crafted jokes aimed to get that entrancing laugh from you.

“Guys, it’s been real, but I am gonna call it a night," your friend announced, a yawn stretching from his mouth.

"Already?" Noah questioned, sparing you a glance as though to silently ask whether you too were planning to leave.

"Got an early start tomorrow." Your friend assured, pushing himself out of the booth and giving a cheeky wink in your direction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he left a void beside Noah, and a shiver of nervousness ran down your arms.

After bidding goodbye to him with an amused half-smile, Noah turned his attention back to you. His expression was unreadable, a cryptic mask that did nothing to ease your anxiety.

"Do you mind if I stay awhile longer?" He asked softly, his gaze meeting yours across the table.

You paused for a moment, finding your voice caught in the back of your throat. You could turn him away, tell him you'd rather be alone. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. You didn’t want him to go.

"No, not at all," you said, trying your best to sound as neutral as possible.

Noah shifted in his seat, leaning back with a distant look in his eyes before returning his gaze to you. His inked fingers drummed lightly against the wooden table top, suggesting a nervous energy beneath the seeming calm in his demeanor.

Shading his eyes with the back of his hand, Noah contemplated for a moment. “You know… life is strange sometimes,” he began haltingly and flashed a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

You quirked an eyebrow in question but did not interrupt, welcoming him to fill the silence that had fallen over the booth.

He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing the rim of his still fresh drink. "Sometimes," he started again, his october eyes fixing on yours, "we find ourselves living in a constant cycle of 'what ifs' and 'what could've beens'."

You swallowed hard as you tried to untangle his words. "And where has that cycle led you?"

Noah's gaze dropped from yours to his hands, "It led me here...sitting across from you after years, yet feeling as though I've never left." He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head a little. "It's funny how life works."

You found yourself nodding, the corners of your mouth twitching at his admission. "Life has a strange sense of humor, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does."

He took a sip of his drink, eyes twinkling under the dull bar lights. There was comfort in his silent observation; a mirroring dance between two people separated by years and experiences yet wound together by obscured ties.

"Can I ask you something?" Noah asked, his fingers idly drumming against the table's wooden surface.

Raising an eyebrow, you shrugged nonchalantly in response, not daring to trust your voice to betray the sudden discomfort stitching itself into your chest.

Taking your silence as approval, he leaned in, elbows resting on the table. A stray lock of hair fell onto his forehead as he leveled his gaze with yours. You took that moment to reminisce how long his hair used to be. Reminisce in the feeling of it tangled between your fingers when he asked you to play with it; or put it in a bun.

"Do you ever feel... like we missed out on something?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he feared someone might overhear the intimate nature of his question.

There was a moment's silence as you held his gaze, your heart hammering an erratic beat against your chest. Your mind raced to find a reply; a sentence that would adequately encase the pain, longing, and disappointment that had been the backdrop of your heart after Noah had been written out of it.

"Noah..." you breathed out, throat tightening.

"I mean," he hurriedly continued before you could voice any objection or sentiment, "it's just... Have you ever wondered how different our lives might've been if we..." He trailed off, seeming unsure of how to complete his tangled thought.

"...if I had chosen differently?" The last word of his sentence dissipated. His dark eyes were vulnerable, more than you remembered as they bore into yours.

"I..." You hesitated, stammering over your own words as an uncomfortable silence stretched between you two.

It was filled with unspoken regrets, unsaid words, and all those missed moments that formed a silent echo in your hearts.

"Yes," you finally admitted, sipping from your glass to wet your dry lips. "I have thought about it."

Noah let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders dropping with the release of tension. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze once more.

"But we can't rewrite the past, can we?" he said dryly, sipping from his glass.

"No, we can't," you agreed, your pulse dancing in your ears. You leaned back in the booth, turning your gaze away from Noah and towards the crowd of others around you. The music filled in the gap left by your silence.

"You know," Noah began again after a few moments, turning to face you fully, "I was happy to see you tonight."

"I'm...glad to know that," you replied uneasily.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt anxiously, taking in another breath. You watched as his fingers seemed to tremble, clawing at his tattooed neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You swallowed, nodding as you gave him a soft smile, “I’ve missed you too.”

And when it was silent again, neither of you could look at each other.

“So how’s Hannah?”

When you asked, his body stiffened momentarily before giving you a tight smile.

“We broke up a couple months ago,” He said, tilting his head to the side.

Your brows furrowed in an attempt to look sad; but the way your stomach began to spin in circles told a different story altogether.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, despite the fluttering inside you. “Hope things are better now.”

"Yeah," he gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. "Things happen. We're on good terms, so it’s alright."

Nodding, you waved the server over for another drink; this time asking for something stronger.

"Your turn," he gestured towards you with an encouraging smile. "How’s Erin?"

You didn’t miss the way your ex’s name sounded sour on Noah’s tongue.

"We broke up too," you admitted, finding solace as his reaction mirrored yours- surprise and awkwardness intermingled with a caring depth.

“I’m really shocked,” He said, blinking repeatedly before running his fingers through his hair, “You were together for eight years. Right since the end of high school.”

Nodding you chewed on the inside of your cheek,

"Yeah," you acknowledged, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. "But things change, people change. I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Noah was silent for a moment. It wasn't hard to see the shock in his eyes as he processed your words- after all, he had known Erin too.

"You... okay?" he asked softly, daring to meet your gaze again.

Nodding, you shrugged slightly, "Yeah. Took some time but yeah, I am."

Neither of you said anything further then; the server arrived with your drinks and the concentrated clinks against the mugs filled up the silence. You thanked her with an absentminded nod before she retreated back into the crowd.

“Want to get out of here?”

Noah's question hung in the air, and you blinked, taken aback.

"Where to?" you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, the side of his lip twisting up in a lopsided smirk. "Somewhere quieter?"

You looked at him, heart thudding against your chest as you considered his offer. Whatever doubt resurfaced about this spontaneous venture was silenced by the surprising hope lighting up his eyes. The same, annoying, stubborn hope that seemed untouched by time. And perhaps it was enough to convince you to take that leap.

"Sure," you agreed reluctantly, avoiding eye contact as you slipped yourself out of the booth, placing some bills on the table next to your untouched drink.

The night felt different as you both stepped out of the pub and into the lightly lit streets. The breeze brushed past your face, carrying with it a scent of rain soon to come. Walking side by side, you could feel the palpable quiet weaving a comfortable cocoon around you.

"No regrets?" he murmured, hands slipped into his pockets as he glanced down at you.

"No regrets," you echoed, more to reassure your own trembling heart than to provide him with closure. He nodded, falling silent once more as your steps echoed against the cement streets.

“You never used to be this quiet,” Noah broke the silence, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “Couldn’t shut you up half the time.”

You laughed gently at that and glanced aside, “Well, life...” your voice trailed off, shrugging at your failed attempt at an explanation.

“I get it,” Noah hummed and nodded. He didn’t press for more; he never did, even back then.

A few paces ahead, Noah's car sat serenely below the dim glow of a streetlamp. As he unlocked the doors and you slid into the passenger seat your heart raced faster. It was just the two of you- after so long.

The soft hum of the car engine filled the small slice of your shared reality while Noah navigated through the late-night streets. Your eyes danced over the passing buildings and strangers walking, avoiding to look anywhere but at him.

Suddenly, he turned up the volume of the car's stereo, cutting through your contemplations. An old song wafted through the speakers, a whisper from years ago that wrapped around you both. The familiar melody made your heart twinge with nostalgia.

"Do you still like this song?" you said suddenly, blinking away unseen tears as you looked at the words slide across the small radio screen.

“I do,” He said softly, thumbs beginning to tap along to the melody.

A gentle smile pulled at your lips as the chorus began, your voice barely audible over the strumming of the guitar and drums. “We danced to it once. At that fundraiser thing.”

Noah glanced over at you, expression unreadable but the sparkle in his eyes betraying a mutual remembrance. "Yeah,” he murmured. “I remember.”

Memories began to float back, images flickering behind your damp eyes. That high school dance where you purposefully bought that floral pattern that made your skin pop- your eyeshadow contrasting the dark hues. Your hands were clammy as Noah approached you for a dance, saying it’s what ‘friends do’. You remembered the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your waist and back, delicately placed as if afraid you’d burn him- your hands resting behind his neck, while you two swayed.

I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.

You’re my wonderwall.

The song faded out, replaced by another unfamiliar one whose words became background noise to your racing thoughts. Noah’s inked knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as a sigh slipped out from between his lips.

“Um, we're here," Noah finally broke the silence. The car came to a halt, the engine purring low before dying out completely. You blinked in surprise, trying to figure out where you were.

Looking around, you noticed that you were parked on top of a hill overlooking the city. You could see all the lights twinkling like stars; the night sky framed by the silhouette of towering skyscrapers and flowing ribbon of highway tracers in the distance.

"Well, this is quieter indeed," you mumbled, mostly to yourself. A chuckle escaped Noah as he reclined back into his seat.

"Yes," he murmured looking out through the window at the shimmering spectacle below. “Remember when I used to tell you how people always made out up here? And then you told me you didn’t know how to use tongue? And then I used to tease you?”

You blushed, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the memory. "How could I forget?" You shook your head slightly, feeling more loosened now. "You never let me live that down."

"True," Noah chuckled, a reminiscent glint in his eyes. "I believe you also made me swear that I would never make out with anyone up here because it was so cliche."

You rolled your eyes at him, a grin tugging at your lips. “Sounds like something I’d say.”

"Was Erin your first kiss then?" He gently nudged a question into the silence.

"Yeah" you confessed after a moment's pause. His gaze flickered to yours, curiosity mixed with surprise evident, “I didn’t want to kiss anyone unless I loved them.”

He nodded slowly, processing your words. "That's... admirable," he concluded with a soft smile.

"Is it?" you muttered, feeling the warmth rise on your cheeks as you laughed, ready to pester him, “Because apparently it was a joke I couldn’t kiss with tongue due to lack of experience.”

"No, no," Noah chuckled, leaning back against the headrest of his seat, staring out at the cityscape. "I only teased because you were somehow so sure that tongues were not involved at all."

You laughed, the twinkling lights reflecting in your eyes. "Well, how was I supposed to know!?" You mockingly defended yourself, playfully punching him in the arm.

He laughed heartily, his voice echoing within the confined space of the car. His laughter was a warm sound, a comfort from distant memories that wrapped itself around your heart. It was something you didn’t know you missed so much.

Once his laughter had subsided into a chuckle, he looked at you for a moment too long. The intensity of his gaze took your breath away. You could see hints of affection and longing there- an open invitation to walk down memory lane yet again.

"I was a jerk then. I bet you turned out to be an amazing kisser."

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at his words, and you found yourself turning away from his gaze, too flustered by the sudden compliment. He chuckled lightly, licking his lips briefly.

"Guess you'll never know," you retorted, burying your flaming face in your hands, “But no, not really.” you protested half-heartedly, looking out of the window to hide the warmth that was creeping up your neck.

"Still got that blush," he observed teasingly, causing your cheeks to burn even more fiercely.

"Shut up, Noah," you laughed it off, swatting at his arm. He raised his hands in a mock-surrender as another round of laughter echoed through the car. The space felt warmer, more familiar than what it had been just a few minutes ago.

The conversation lulled once again, filled with merely the hum of the cool evening breeze rustling the leaves outside and old tracks playing softly through the car's speakers.

"I used to come here after Hannah and I broke up... It helped me think."

The confession hung between you two, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked.

Noah was silent for a moment, the dim car light illuminating his face in an array of shadows.

"Because," he began slowly, "I think it's important for you to know. And it doesn't just remind me of her, it reminds me of what could have been- and what's no longer."

You nodded, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you turned your gaze to the cityscape below. It was beautiful, indeed.

Perhaps Noah had found solace in this beauty during his broken times.

Perhaps, right now, it was the sanctuary that you needed too.

"You never asked me why we broke up," Noah’s murmur brought you back from your thoughts.

"Why did you?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze shifted to meet yours, his chocolate eyes soft under the pale moonlight streaming into the car. "We fell out of love. Or maybe, I never even fully loved her."

For a moment, you were silent, digesting the harsh simplicity of his words.

"Love can be fleeting," you said softly, more to yourself than addressing Noah.

"No," he countered after a beat, "Love is constant. It's the people who are fleeting."

His sentiment hit a chord deep within you that resonated with your unspoken feelings.

"People change," you agreed, your fingertips brushing over the chill of your glass. "They grow...sometimes apart."

Noah hummed in response, his gaze distant as though lost in a maze of recollections. “Yes, we’ve changed, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” You mumbled, picking at the seam of your jeans.

“But I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. I didn’t even know at the time that I was in love.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at that moment, his words burning through your mind. Love. Loving you.

All that could be heard was the racing of your heart as your ears flooded with every panicked beat.

"You..." your voice faltered, unsure of how to respond. His gaze was relentless; not challenging you but pleading for understanding that you weren't quite sure how to give.

"Noah..." Your voice came out as a mere whisper, the name tumbling from your lips almost involuntarily, your mind still struggling to catch up with his declaration. He examined your expression in quiet apprehension, his hands clenched on his thighs.

"I mean it," he persisted, reaching over to gently cover your fidgety hand with his own larger one. His tattoos seemed even more prominent against your smooth skin - alive, just like the feelings that were coming alive in his presence. "Even though we’ve never been together... I don't know if I ever stopped thinking about you."

Your breath hitched as his words hung heavy in the air.

“I regret not choosing you. Every single day I’ve regretted fucking up the chance of us.”

Your heart raced in your chest, the thunderous pulse drowning out all other sounds. The feel of his warm hand on yours, the earnest look in his eyes- it was almost too much.

"Stop, Noah," you found yourself whispering, a plea more than a demand. His eyes flickered with hurt but he took his hand away nonetheless- an action that seemed to echo painfully around you.

He swallowed hard, leaning back against the car's seat while respectably creating distance. His gaze didn't leave yours, as if trying to convince you of the sincerity of his confession.

"I'm sorry," He apologized after what felt like eons, "I just... needed you to know."

“But you knew how I felt. All those years ago you fed into my feelings- when you knew. You knew I liked you- fuck, loved you. Which is pathetic because how do you know you love somebody you never even kissed, or hugged, or held hands with- at fifteen years old?” You sucked in a breath, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at your shoes but you blinked them away stubbornly. "But I knew. You knew.”

His hand twitched on the gear stick as though wanting to reach out to you once more, yet he restrained himself, a mask of remorse settling over his features.

"I didn’t know how to feel. I was confused. I thought I didn’t want to take the risk of losing you by dating you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought my feelings would disappear…that they were just an infatuation.”

You nodded slowly, a storm of unsettled emotions making your voice tremble, "But they didn't." It was not a question; it was a confirmation. One that stripped away any ambiguity still lingering between you.

"No," he agreed with a shaky sigh, “Sometimes I wish they did.”

You laughed bitterly, sniffing, “I wish they did too. Because I just spent eight years in a relationship secretly wondering ‘what if Noah chose me instead’. ‘Why do I still love him’, ‘Why do I feel this way’.”

The words hung heavy, your confession giving more weight to the silence suffocating you both. Noah's eyes were wide, a mix of shock and something akin to longing etched into his features.

"I... I didn't know," he finally managed, choking out the words as if his regret was a tangible thing constricting his throat. "I always thought you were happy with Erin."

Your laugh echoed through the car, hollow. "And I thought you loved Hannah." you shot back, ignoring the sharp sting in your chest. Light spurts of rain began to fall outside, the dispersed patter of the drops landing on the car roof distracting.

He flinched visibly at your retort but made no attempt to defend himself. Instead, he dropped his gaze to his hands where they lay clenched in his lap.

"Life is ironic, isn't it?" he murmured after a while. His voice was quiet but resounding in the stillness of the moment.

"Yeah, it is." You agreed, gazing out of the window again.

The brunette beside you shifted in his seat again, taking in a slow breath. "I want to kiss you."

His words were so soft, they almost melded with the low murmur of the far away traffic.

Your wide eyes whipped to him in a glance that was all too revealing. A gasp escaped from your clenched jaws, an unexpected note in the heavy silence of his trembling confession.

"What?" Your voice strangled itself into a whisper, hands fluttering against your chest as if trying to stifle the mounting panic.

Meeting your gaze head-on, Noah cleared his throat, "If that's okay with you, I mean...I'm not..." he sighed, raking a hand through his tousled hair in frustration, "Nevermind."

A thousand thoughts and feelings flooded through you.

“I- I can’t go down this road again.”

At that moment he unbuckled his seatbelt, hastily crawling out of the car. Your breathing quickened as you watched him walk around the hood to your side, opening your door. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take it.

Shaking your head, you remained unmoving, the sudden rainfall outside creating a rhythmic backdrop to your racing pulse. His outstretched hand trembled slightly under the raindrops gently cascading down on them.

Stubbornly, he didn't retract it, "Please," Noah pleaded in a tone akin to a whisper.

An unknown force urged you to take his hand, pulling yourself out of the car and into the rain-soaked night. It was hammering down now; each drop was its own parade, a silver bead in the sea of dirt beneath your feet. Your clothes began to cling to your skin as the rain showered over you, yet you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Noah's.

Pulling you into a hug, he enveloped you fully in his chest.

His scent hit you first– a distinct mix of old spice and musk, something so uniquely Noah. His heartbeat echoed against your ears, beating in time with the thrumming of rain on the car roof.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your fingers clutching at the fabric dampening underneath your grip. His body next to yours felt like a patchwork quilt of memories- a warmth that was familiar yet now foreign all at once.

He sighed gently above you, one hand moving to lightly stroke the small of your back. It was subtle, almost hesitant; as if he feared this moment to be just another figment of the past.

“I can’t change what happened- and I need you to know that I wouldn’t have changed it. Even if I regret it.”

“Why?” You asked.

"Because it made me realize how much I lost in not choosing you," he answered, his voice barely audible above the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement.

Your heart ached as his words rang in your ears, each syllable echoing with a pain you related to all too well.

“It made me realize how much I wanted you, and how it’s always been you. Maybe I wouldn’t have been a good partner for you because I was just a dumb kid. Maybe we were meant to experience other people before getting here- I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.”

“But regretting it brought me back to you,” he finished, pulling you away from him as his hands reached up either side of your face, caressing your cheeks with his cold hands. His expression was raw and open, every hiding place stripped bare as he studied you.

"I need you to understand one thing," he continued, his voice barely a whisper against the pounding of your heart. "My feelings for you...they’re not fleeting."

The wind had picked up, tossing small flurries of rain sideways; droplets traced pathways down his inked skin, catching in the hollow of his throat. There was an otherworldly beauty about him in that moment, one that had you transfixed.

"You were always with Erin. What was I going to do, stroll up to your house and confess?" he broke the silence once again, his knuckles brushing stray strands of hair from your face.

His eyes bore into yours, an unearthly intensity in his october gaze that made you tremble. His fingers traced your jawline in a gentle caress, quivering as they brushed over your lips. His quiet admittance echoed deafeningly in the space between you, wrapping itself around the settled tension in the air and filling you both with an unbearable longing.

"Noah," you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed. The rain was persistent; its rambling rhythm provided a haunting melody to your escalating heartbeats.

You placed your hands on top of his that held your face.

"Why now?" You managed to make your voice steady amidst the turmoil within.

"Because it's never too late, right?" His voice quivered with a hopeful note. You nodded weakly against his touch before daring to open your eyes again, “There are no longer any barriers. You’re here- I’m here- nothing else is in the way to hold us back anymore.”

He was holding his breath, terrified that with the next exhalation he might shatter the moment hanging between you.

"Maybe..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "Maybe it's time we take a chance on us."

A dozen emotions warred within you, and it was terrifyingly beautiful as pieces of him echoed through your nerves.

"Is there an 'us'?" You countered quietly, words tangled in a knot of apprehension.

"There could be," he whispered, placing his forehead against your own. Droplets of water fell between your skin.

Your heart stuttered inside your chest at his words.

“Can I kiss you now?” he took a deep breath swallowing his nerves.

Feeling your pulse quicken, you let out a shaky sigh. This wasn't how you had planned your evening- certainly not a premature reunion with long-locked-away feelings.

Yet, in that moment, any traces of reluctance were drowned by the insistent tug of something deep within you; a longing for closure, perhaps, or maybe even the feeling of what should have been all along?

"Yes," you barely recognized your own voice.

The corners of Noah's mouth curled into the semblance of a smile. He didn’t hesitate as he leaned in close, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks and making your eyelids flutter shut.

The world came crashing onto a standstill as his lips met yours, slow and hesitant at first before engulfing you in a fervor you could only associate with years of suppressed desire and regret. The taste of his lips was like coming home after an eternity; familiar yet carrying hints of something new and enticing.

Your body ached with need as reality blurred around you and Noah, your lungs catching every roll of his lips and breath as your mind raced. He was everything you had ever wanted- and this moment was something you dreamed of years ago.

He pulled you against him, the force of it making your teeth click, but not enough to hurt. Your hands clung to his shirt, cloth wrinkling beneath your desperate grasp as the intensity of your kiss increased. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, fingers splayed widely against the drenched fabric of your top. Noah’s grip was so tight, his lips so hungry, as if afraid you’d let go.

"Noah," you mumbled against his lips, his name a soft plea. The kiss deepened, his body pressing further into yours with possessiveness and urgency.

Each drop of rain felt like a spark against your skin as his tongue traced the seam of your lips. His arm around your waist pulled you closer until there was no room left for regret, only the raw shiver of anticipation simmering beneath every touch, every breath.

"I've wanted this for so long..." He confessed between kisses, his voice breathless and filled with longing.

His words danced over your skin like electric shocks, each syllable a promise etched against your parted lips. Noah was a heartbeat, a rhythm so intimately familiar that you wondered how you ever survived without it.

“Me too.” You mumbled.

Slowly, he broke away; pausing just inches from your lips to simply hold you in his arms.

And as his brows furrowed and eyes darkened even more than you thought they possibly could, you swore there were tears mixing with the rain that fell down his cheeks.

His thumb traced the curve of your chin, an absent-minded gesture as he gazed at you.

"Did that... did it feel right?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, a shadow of doubt. Swallowing hard, you nodded, unable to say anything before reaching up to hold the back of his neck, and pull him into another long kiss.

You smiled, “I want to know what should have been. What will be. With you.”

His lips crashed into yours again, this time with a fervor that sent shockwaves through every nerve in your body. His hands were an orchestrated chaos, roaming your back and sides, desperate to elicit a response that would match his own longing.

“I want that too,” He whispered against your mouth, the utterance of those five words producing an unforgettable melody echoing the long-suppressed desires within both of you.

Your tongue lightly danced along his lip, and Noah held the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. The taste of him against your tongue made your limbs warm despite the cold, the craving of his fingers pressing into your skin irreplaceable to anything you ever felt before.

It felt right somehow, breaking barriers of the past and what could have been, only to embrace this newfound feeling- electric and full of hope.

Noah carried you back to his car after some time, both drenched from standing too long under the downpour.

In silence, you relished the warmth seeping through you. The radio sprang back to life as Noah fired up the engine again, flicking on the windshield wipers. He sighed, glancing at you with a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he reached over to manipulate the car's heater settings.

The journey back into town was quieter than before. The rain tapped rhythmically against the roof as you leaned against the window, staring absently at the stirring city below. Noah drove in silence, occasionally stealing glances in your direction- a soft yet unreadable gaze that sent shivers running down your spine.

“You’re a great kisser- so please forgive my younger self’s ignorance.”

"Will do," you managed to laugh, your chest tight with a newfound vitality. He chuckled, throwing you an amused sidelong glance.

The city lights streaked past in a blur, reflecting off the wet streets. The late-night pedestrians were rushing into their homes or into nearby pubs, attempting to dodge the heavy downpour. But inside the car, everything felt muted; as though time had been brought to standstill, after all this time.

You traced your slightly swollen lips with fingertips trembling faintly from leftover exhilaration. You could still taste him on your tongue; it was a taste you already knew you yearned to become familiar with.

Suddenly, he slowed the car to a halt in front of your apartment complex.

"I should get going," you murmured quietly, lying to him and yourself. "Thank you for tonight.”

He nodded, turning to face you once again. You watched him, your eyes tracing over every detail of his face; the bridge of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the curve of his cheeks- all before latching onto his gaze.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and before opening the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Do you want to come in?”

+++++

(Part two coming soon)

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@anything-more-than-human @geminigirlfromfinland

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hedonist-k1l · 3 days ago

Text

Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

218 notes · View notes

hedonist-k1l · 3 days ago

Note

Noah just very in love, very infatuated, very obsessed. Anything he does he does it in mind with you. He doesn’t know what came over him and he knows it’s dangerous to let one person influence him this greatly (previous shitty experiences) but he trusts you so much with his heart, brain, life, emotions, insecurities, etc. that he can’t help but wanna give you the world whilst showing said world just how much you mean to him. He wears his heart on his sleeve with you and allows himself to be vulnerable and open in a way other close people in his life haven’t witnessed but there’s a first time for everything!

Listen I love a boy in love. That’s my favourite thing in the world 🥺

He has never been this stupidly in love with someone before and it’s so “bad” that it surprises himself too.

For the first time in a long while he feels comfortable opening up to someone else — someone who isn’t part of his circle. Letting new people into this circle is a risk, one that he’s been all too willing to avoid for the last few years. But now he has you and all he wants is for you to be happy. Because seeing that pretty smile crack on your face makes him happy.

Sure he’s dated before, even thought that he was heading into something serious with people but in the end he always ended up on his own.

He’s not planning weddings yet, but he’s absolutely imaging his future with you. It’s less about the big milestones and more about the little things. He knows that you’ll have all of the big things but he’s looking forward to the mundane moments. He wants the slow mornings, the shared lunches, the stolen kisses, the late night conversations.

He walks around with heart-eyes, has you set as the wallpaper on his phone after the second date because things are just going that well.

And he surprises himself with open he wants to be with you. He doesn’t feel like he has to hold back when he talks about past relationships and experiences.

And as always the first person who picks up on it is Nick. Nick will watch with that proud big brother smile, just plain happy that his best friend is, for the first time, truly happy and in love.

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hedonist-k1l · 3 days ago

Text

holy

Who Are You?

Kickboxer!Noah x Reader

Chapter Four

chapter warnings: i wrote the majority of this at 2am so reading it back i was like wtf. just the usual warnings, reader and her friends being too real, quick aaron taylor johnson mention (love of my life <3) gets a little nsfw at the end!

sorry for the wait for this one! i was debating whether or not to rewrite the ending as i wasn't sure if it was too soon for this to happen, but it's kinda important for the rest of the story so i kept it in!

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

A few days later...

You hadn't been able to focus on anything, you've been ignoring messages from your friends, not getting dressed for days at a time, oversleeping or not sleeping at all... basically just spiralling.

Just because of Noah? Not really. That certainly played a part in it. It was also because of work... The mistake you made had a major impact, and management hadn’t been subtle in their response. You’d been given a formal warning and told to work from home “until further notice.” Apparently, showing up to the office looking like you were about to cry wasn't inspiring.

But being stuck at home had only made things worse.

You barely left your home since, you'd just been sat on the couch, on your laptop, half working half pretending to be okay. The TV played constantly in the background, something just to make you feel like you weren't entirely alone. Laughter tracks and show intros constantly filled the room, but none of it touched you. You haven't laughed since the last time you were with Noah.

You kept glancing at the clock.

11:51.

Nine minutes until lunch.

You decided today you would finally go out. Just for some air. Maybe if you were feeling up to it you'd grab a coffee, maybe a pastry, anything that might lift your mood. You told yourself you’d feel better once you were walking. Once you had the cool air on your face, and something warm in your hands.

The clock ticked slow, but eventually, mercifully, it hit 12:00.

You stood with a quiet sigh and shuffled toward the door, throwing a hoodie over your tank top- which had a curious stain- and pulling your hair into a loose clip without bothering to check a mirror.

You didn't care if you saw anyone. There was only one person you wanted to see, and you were convinced you and your friends had scared him into moving to the other side of the country.

As you stepped outside, the sun hit your face, and you took your first deep breath in days. It was warmer out than you’d expected. The breeze was nice and gentle. You blinked up at the sunlight like someone just waking from hibernation.

Maybe this would help. Maybe this was all you needed.

You decided to go to your usual café, the one just down the street from you. You passed by a couple people you knew, but didn't stop to chat, just offered them a polite smile as you walked on.

But maybe you needed somebody else's company.

Because you were still thinking about him. You were always thinking about him.

Still replaying your last conversation.

Still wondering why he hadn’t come back. Wondering if it'd even be worth showing up to the class tomorrow.

So you told yourself not to care.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was bound to happen at some point, he would surely miss classes. Noah had his own life.

Maybe he was seeing someone. A girlfriend, or a boyfriend- James had been very convinced about that theory. Or maybe he’d just gotten bored. Maybe he found a better gym. One without a girl who clearly only came to flirt and couldn't do a proper roundhouse kicks!

You told yourself all of that, and it only made things worse. You only got further and further stuck in your brain.

Not knowing was just the worst part. Not getting to ask. Not even getting the chance to be let down properly. Not knowing truly why he didn't come.

With a frown, you pushed open the café door, the little bell above it chiming softly as you stepped inside.

You were greeted by the smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastry, but it barely registered in your brain. You were simply moving on autopilot, shoulders hunched in your hoodie, eyes glued to your phone. The line was short, only two people ahead, so you barely looked up.

When they called, “Next!” you shuffled forward, mumbled your order, your usual drink and a pastry you probably wouldn’t even eat, and reached into your pocket for your card.

But just as your fingers brushed the edge of it, the payment machine beeped.

You froze, quickly glancing up.

A part of you felt warm, a kind gesture from a stranger who may have seen you looked like you were having a rough time. Maybe it would blossom into a romance, and you'd tell your grandkids about this exact moment...

But then you saw it. A familair looking hand... long tattooed fingers, that belonged to a large tattooed hand hovering near the card reader.

And then your eyes slowly travelled up the length of his arm, past the dark hoodie sleeve, the curve of his shoulder, the tattoo on his throat, until you met his eyes.

Holy shit.

Noah.

Standing right beside you.

A small, soft smile played on his lips, like he hadn't just ruined your life. Oh fuck, what you were just imagining him here. What if you've missed him so much that your brain-

“Thought I recognised you,” he said, like he hadn’t just vanished from your life. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You blinked once. Twice. Opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He handed you your receipt like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like you hadn’t spent the past week convincing yourself he was gone forever.

“I... thank you." You finally managed, voice a little shaky.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you (and probably the stain on your hoodie.)

“You okay?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah." You nodded too quickly, "I just… I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Noah’s smile deepened, just a little.

“Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing.”

"I... I only live down the street from here. I come here pretty often."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, "I've never seen you in here before."

You chuckled softly, standing to the side to wait for your order.

"You come here often?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Sometimes," he shrugged, "I don't really drink coffee anymore, but I like the tea here."

"Oh," you smiled, "I've never tried their tea before, but I like their lattes."

He held his cup out for you, with a look that said try some.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it gently from his hand, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment, yet it still made your tummy feel fuzzy.

You lifted the cup to your lips and took a sip, your eyes never quite leaving his. It was slightly sweet, a little floral and calming in a way you hadn’t felt in days.

“That’s really nice." You murmured, surprised.

“Told you.” He said with a little proud grin, taking the cup back from you.

And then your drink was called, your name echoing across the café, pulling you back to reality again. You stepped forward to grab it, feeling the heat of Noah still close beside you.

You turned back to him with both hands around your cup, unsure of what to say next. Unsure of what this even was. But he beat you to it.

“I'm sorry for missing the last class,” he said gently, as if reading your mind, “I had to go out of town for a few days... work stuff. I didn’t mean to vanish. I was supposed to let Tasha know, to tell you, but I kinda forgot.”

You tried not to show how relieving that felt to hear.

“I thought maybe I’d scared you off.” You said, only half joking.

“Because of your friends?” He laughed softly.

"They can get a little too much sometimes... I'm sorry-"

“No,” he said, still smiling. “I liked them.”

“You… liked them?” You blinked, perplexed.

“I thought they were funny,” he admitted with a nod, “But they clearly care about you a lot. That’s cool.”

You stared at him, warmth creeping into your cheeks.

"I felt a little lost without you there," you confessed, taking the conversation back to the class, "I had no one to laugh at me when I tripped!"

That made him chuckle, and the two of you began to move away from the counter, realising you were getting in the way.

"Well," he began, a small smirk playing on his lips, "If I get your number, I can let you know if I ever have to miss a day again..."

"Really?" Your eyes widened in shock, finally realising that maybe your friends were right...

Noah reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out his phone, offering it over to you.

"Really." He nodded.

You looked down at the device like it was something sacred, then up at him again.

“You sure?”

"Yes." He laughed, the sound warming your heart, "Unless you want to keep living in suspense every week."

You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to disguise the way your cheeks were burning and thumbs a little shaky as you typed in your number, and your name, followed by a heart emoji, which you regretted the moment you handed it back.

Why the fuck would you put a heart next to your name?

“There,” you said, “Now you can’t disappear without warning.”

He glanced at the screen, reading your name and the little heart emoji you’d added without thinking. The corners of his lips tugging up into a grin.

“A heart?” He teased, one brow lifting.

“Shut up. I panicked.” You waved a hand, trying to play it off, but your cheeks betrayed you, warming fast.

Noah laughed again, pocketing his phone.

“No complaints. It suits you.”

You took a sip of your coffee to hide the way your lips curved, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was stood, how normal it felt to be talking like this again, like the week of silence hadn’t been eating you alive.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you like he was about to say something else, and then your phone buzzed rather violently in your pocket.

You pulled it out and groaned. Your work app flashing a very unwelcome notification: “Where are you? Meeting started 3 mins ago!!!”

“Shit,” you muttered. “I’ve gotta run... I'm working from home and I'm supposed to be on a meeting... my boss is going to kill me.”

Noah stepped aside, letting you pass.

“Go. Save your job. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded quickly, already halfway to the door.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Same time?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He smiled.

You paused only once as you pushed open the café door, glancing back over your shoulder.

He was still standing there, watching you. And when your eyes met, he gave you the tiniest wink.

You would be replaying that in your mind all day.

...

You burst through your apartment door like a woman possessed, nearly dropping your coffee as you kicked it shut behind you.

Laptop. Where the fuck was your laptop

“Shit shit shit…” You muttered, searching the room.

You spotted it on the couch, still open on your email inbox. You threw yourself down, loaded up the meeting app and clicked join with audio off, camera off, and tried to sit still as your heart pounded through your ribcage…

Because Noah had just paid for your coffee. Because Noah had smiled at you. Because Noah had just asked for your number!!!!

You’d barely got through the last week thinking you’d scared him off, or your friends had, and now he was letting you sip his tea and winked at you like you were in some cheesy romance movie.

You had to tell your friends.

You: GUYS HOLY SHIT

You: NOAH ALERT NOAH ALERT

James: girl we thought you died where have you been??

Kylie: WE HAVENT HEARD FROM YOU ALL WEEK WHAT THR FUCK HAPPENED

You: ok so he didn’t turn up to the last class so i kinda assumed he fled the country BUT I JUST SAW HIM AND HE ASKED FOR MY NUMBER

James: you saw him at work???

Kylie: no dumbass she’s been working from home

Kylie: wait… where did you see him then?

You: THE CAFE

You: THE ONE I ALWAYS GO TO!!!

James: hold up HE ASKED FOR YOUR NUMBER????

James: DID YOU GIVE IT TO HIM

You: DUH!!!!

James: is that all you gave to him😏

You: shut up

Kylie: girl get the fuck back to work before you lose your job for good and save the story for later!!!

James: hell yeah!!

You: okay fine

You put your phone down with a sigh and tried to pay attention to the meeting, though it was boring you to death. You weren’t even sure what you were supposed to be doing.

Then your phone buzzed again.

Annoyed, you picked it up, ready to tell your friends they had just told you to get back to work…

But then you saw it was from an unknown number

Unknown: Hey it’s Noah :)

Unknown: Good luck with that meeting

You nearly choked on your own breath.

You quickly saved his contact, then your thumbs just hovered above your screen, wondering what the fuck to say to that.

You: thanks :)

You: and thank you for the coffee!

You put your phone back down, a grin still plastered across your face as you turned back to your laptop…

Wait…

Why were you still staring at the ‘join’ screen?

You clicked over to your work chat, heart already hammering. And there you found a long, irritated message from your boss.

You scanned it quickly, eyes darting past the passive aggressive “hope everything’s alright” and “you’ve been very unfocused this month” stuff until you hit the final line.

“…And I’m working late tomorrow, so I would like to see you in my office. 5pm. No excuses this time.”

You felt your heart sink straight to your toes.

You slumped back in your chair, dragging your hands down your face. Why did the universe always have to throw something at you the second things started finally going right again?

FUCK.

You sent a polite reply to your boss, saying how you had tried to join the meeting but you were having some internet issues. And next, you had to tell Noah you’d be missing tomorrow’s class.

What the hell were you supposed to say?

You typed out six different messages, but hesitated after each one, deleting it and typing again. Eventually, you settled on:

You: okay so i’ve just been called into the office tomorrow at 5, so i’ll have to miss class 🥲

Noah: Oh shit

Noah: Well I was thinking about staying late at the gym tomorrow to make up for last week. If you let me know what time you’re back maybe I'll stay and we could have a private session…

Internally, you were screaming.

You: but i don’t think i’ll be back until pretty late :(

Noah: The gym shuts at 8??

You: fuck i won’t make it back in time…

Noah: Then maybe we could do it at your place?

You: yeah sure!

Noah: Great :) Let me know when you’re home and I’ll come over

Noah: Get ready to sweat😏

You stared at your screen, heart jackhammering in your chest.

Okay. Okay. So he’s coming over.

Noah is coming over.

To your apartment.

You let out a soft, panicked laugh and flung your phone face down on the couch. Then immediately flipped it back over and reread the messages. Twice.

Get ready to sweat😏

He was definitely talking about the workout... Probably.

But even right now you could feel yourself sweating, just at the thought alone.

You were spiralling, again.

You leapt up, did a frantic 360 spin in your living room, then made a mental checklist.

And it began with cleaninb the place. There was rubbish all over the place, the floors needed vacuuming, and for some reason you had odd socks in the most random places, some with holes in- and they definitely needed washing.

You looked around and immediately hated everything about the place.

The kitchen was a mess, the cushions on your couch never looked right, the whole place was cluttered and you hadn’t showered in days.

And now Noah was going to see all of this…

You quickly texted your group chat.

You: NOAH ALERT NOAH ALERT CODE RED!!!!

You: [sent a screenshot of your texts with noah]

You: GIYS HES COMING TO MY PLACE TOMORROW

You: FOR A PRIVATE SESSION????? WHAT THE HELL???????

Kylie: OH HOLY SHIT

James: bitch what about US???

James: or are we invited too…

You: NO!!!!

You: we’ll have to reschedule sorry guys

Kylie: usually i’d be pissed but i’m actually really happy for you

Kylie: girl get that dick!!!

You: 😟

You: excuse me.

Kylie: oh c’mon. “get ready to sweat” ??????

You: yeah. you haven’t seen me after a round with him. i’m dripping by the end.

James: OKAY IM NOT SAYING ANYTHING!!!!!!

You: guys you aren’t helping :(

You: be honest with me do you think he’ll think my place is nice

Kylie: yes!!!

James: just don’t let him see aaron.

Ah, yes. The mini Aaron Taylor Johnson cardboard cutout you kept by your tv, the one James gave you for your birthday last year, which you maybe got a little too excited about. You dress him up for the holidays, and he currently had a pair of pumpkin sunglasses on, though halloween had long gone. You quickly got up and threw him in a cupboard.

You: ok aaron’s been dealt with.

Kylie: honestly honey i don’t think you need to worry so much. he clearly likes you, and the state of your apartment won’t change anything :)

James: unless he’s an interior designer and he sees your mismatched kitchen chairs.

Kylie: IGNORE HIM I THINK THEYRE CUTE!!!

…

The meeting dragged on for almost an hour.

Your boss had been calm, which somehow made it all worse. There was no yelling, no grand confrontation. Just quiet disappointment and polite professionalism, words like “inconsistent,” “final warning,” and “you need to be more focused.”

By the time you made it to the train station, your face hurt from forcing composure. The train was packed, so you stood the whole way.

The thought of going home and seeing Noah was the only thing that had got you through the meeting, but he didn’t have to know that. You didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore after he found out he was the Hot Gym Guy.

You got off at your stop at 7:48. And then you had to walk home.

Your legs ached. Your bag dug into your shoulder. Your chest still felt tight from everything you didn’t say, but wanted to.

When you turned the corner onto your street, there he was.

Noah was leaning casually against the wall next to your front door of your apartment building, hood up, phone in hand. He was wearing a hoodie with a some band name you vaguely recognised on it, and a pair of black shorts.

He looked up the moment he saw you.

“Hey, you made it.” He said, straightening. His voice was soft, and the sound of it alone made your day a little better.

“Barely. I’m so sorry,” you blurted, breathless from the walk. “That meeting ran way over, and then the train was hell, and I-”

“Hey.” He smiled. “It's fine.”

You stopped in front of him, staring up at him like he wasn’t real, which you still had your doubts about.

He held up a bottle of water.

“Brought this. Figured you’d need it after all that.”

“Thank you,” you said, reaching for the bottle, your fingers brushing his, “Wanna come up?”

“Lead the way!” He smiled, holding the door open for you.

…

The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, maybe even a little awkward. You were just tired, still feeling deflated from the meeting and exhausted from the commute.

When the doors opened, you led the way down the hall to your place. Your keys fumbled once in your fingers, but you managed to get the door open without dropping them- a miracle, honestly.

You stepped inside and kicked off your shoes, brushing your hair off your face with a soft sigh.

“Sorry it’s a little messy, I tried to tidy but I didn’t have much time…”

Noah followed you in, calm as ever, water bottle tucked under his arm, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Looks fine to me,” he said, glancing around. “It's very cute, cosy even."

You dumped your bag by the couch and turned to face him, only to find him tugging at the bottom of his hoodie.

“I should probably warn you,” he said, giving you a slight, crooked grin. “I don’t have a shirt on under this. I was working out earlier with Matt and Davis, the shirt got gross so I took it off and threw it in my car… figured you wouldn’t want me stinking your place out before we even got started.”

You blinked. So he was wearing nothing beneath his hoodie?

You had seen slithers of his stomach before, and his back, but you never thought you’d get to see it all.

“Oh,” you said, already feeling slightly flustered. “Right. That’s… yeah, fair.”

“Cool if I take this off?”

Your brain was short circuiting. But you managed a nod.

“Yeah. Totally fine... I don’t want you overheating or anything…”

He raised an eyebrow like he was trying not to laugh, then pulled the hoodie off over his head in one smooth motion.

And just like that, he was shirtless in your living room.

Your mouth went dry, but between your thighs was another story.

He wasn’t showing off, and that was the worst part. He just tossed the hoodie onto the couch like it was no big deal and then reached for his water bottle.

Meanwhile, you were suddenly aware of every inch of him, his chest, his arms, his stomach… he was covered in tattoos, and as he turned around you felt your knees go weak.

Never had you found someone’s back attractive before, but holy fuck.

Sorry, Jesus.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice casual like he hadn’t just turned your entire brain into mush.

You nodded, forcing a laugh.

“Yeah. Just… um. Still recovering.”

“From your meeting?”

You stared at him.

“…Yeah.”

He smirked but didn’t press.

“You wanna go and get changed, then we can start?”

You nodded, quickly heading into your bedroom, changing into the gym set you had left on the edge of your bed before you left for your meeting.

Once you had gotten changed, put some deodorant and your favourite perfume, then you stepped back out of your bedroom, finding Noah stood in the middle of your living room like he belonged there, relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, glancing around like he was assessing floor space- which you didn’t have that much of.

“I should probably move the couch.” You muttered, half to yourself, stepping forward and bracing your hands against the armrest. You gave it a push.

Nothing happened.

You pushed harder.

The couch barely budged.

Noah stepped up behind you, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Need help?”

“No,” you said, still pushing. “…Okay, maybe.”

He laughed quietly and moved beside you, pressing his hands to the back of the couch next to yours.

“On three?”

You barely had time to say “wait-“ before he shifted his weight and moved the whole damn thing like it was made of feathers.

“Okay, no one likes a show off.” You teased.

He shrugged like he hadn’t just casually embarrassed you in your own home. To hide the blush on your cheeks, you turned back around, opening the cupboard under the TV unit and dragging out two rolled up yoga mats, ones you had bought many years ago from your short lived new years resolution where you told yourself you'd finally start getting your life together. (You used them once with Kylie, pulled a muscle and never got them out again.)

“They’re a little dusty.” You warned, handing him one.

“That's fine.” He chuckled, already unrolling his onto the floor with a soft flap.

You tried to copy him, but the mat curled back in on itself. You had to step on one end to keep it flat.

Noah didn’t comment, but his grin said enough.

You knelt down to adjust it, tucking one corner under your coffee table to hold it in place.

When you straightened, he was already stretching, his arms over his head, back arching slightly, muscles flexing. Completely unaware, or pretending to be unaware, that you were watching.

You looked away fast, dropping to the mat and forcing yourself to focus.

“Okay,” you said, clapping your hands together like this was a totally normal event. “What are we starting with?”

“Let’s warm up your shoulders and legs,” he said, kneeling beside you. “We’ll go light today, so nothing too intense.”

You nodded, following his lead as he shifted into a forward lunge. He glanced over to watch your form, and you immediately forgot how legs worked.

Then he moved behind you.

“Just gonna check your stance.” He said, one hand brushing your hip, the other on your upper back.

You nearly tipped over.

“Loosen up. You’re stiff.” His voice was right by your ear now, calm and warm.

“Sorry, I've just... had a really bad day.” You mumbled.

“I can tell.” He said, not unkindly.

You exhaled, tried to relax your shoulders.

His hands lingered just a second longer than necessary. Then he stepped away.

“You’ll feel better after this, though.” He said, standing back in his place again, like nothing happened.

…

You were already flushed, hot and sweating by the time you finished warming up, and as usual, he looked untouched.

Whilst you were taking a quick water break, opening more windows to let some air in, he threw his spare wraps at you.

“Wrap up,” he said simply, winding his own. “We’ll do a few light rounds, I don’t have any pads or gloves though.”

You caught them clumsily, still breathless as you sat down beside him on the couch.

“We’re sparring?”

He nodded, already securing the wrap.

“You got some steam to let off. Better to do it with me than your boss.”

“You just want to laugh at me.” You said with a smirk.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, voice almost too casual, but there was something teasing behind it. A glint in his eyes that made your hands fumble with the wraps.

“Because I still suck at this,” you mumbled, trying to loop the fabric over your wrist the right way. “And I know you enjoy watching me suffer, especially when it comes to the roundhouse kicks.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s not true.” He said, and you gave him a look. “I don’t enjoy it,” he continued, standing slowly. “But it is cute.”

Your breath caught. Cute.

You opened your mouth to fire back something, anything! But then he stepped toward you, holding out his hands.

“Give me them.” He said.

“What?”

“The wraps.”

You hesitated. Then handed them over.

He took them without another word, his fingers brushing yours briefly before he crouched in front of you, dropping to one knee. He took your wrist gently and began rewrapping that hand.

“You always pull too tight." He murmured, not looking up.

“I like it tight.”

His lips twitched.

“Yeah?”

You flushed, immediately regretting your choice of words. He briefly looked up and you swore he was biting back a laugh.

“Shut up.” You glared at him.

“I didn’t say anything.” He finished the wrap and ran his thumb over the back of your hand once, just softly, before starting on the other.

When he finally stood, he didn’t step back, just looked down at you and offered his hand.

“You ready?”

You nodded, even though you weren’t. Not really.

“Remember,” he said, guiding you into position. “Focus on control. You don’t need to prove anything to me, or show off.”

You exhaled. Tried to settle your stance. His hands came down on your hips lightly, just adjusting you.

“Widen your base,” he murmured. “There, that’s perfect… Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t even sure he meant to say it, it came out softly, quiet, but it landed like a sucker punch to your stomach.

You looked up at him sharply.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.”

You shook it off. Focus!

…

You weren’t sure when the sparring became funny, but somewhere between the fourth time Noah made you miss on purpose and the second time he caught your punch mid-air just to spin you and tickle your sides, you were losing your composure.

“Noah!” You half shouted, half laughed as his fingers found your ribs again, wriggling at your sides.

"It's conditioning," he said, smug, biting back his own laugh, "If you don't want me to tickle you, don't be predictable."

"You're the worst." You gasped, breathless as you wiped the sweat from your brow and staggered back, still a little giddy.

He just stood there, hands on hips, calm as ever.

"You'll thank me when you become untouchable."

You shook your head, pacing in a slow circle around him, catching your breath.

“Okay,” you muttered. “How’s this for predictable?”

Before he could answer, you launched.

A roundhouse kick, not perfect but it had power. Noah’s eyes widened just enough to let you know you’d surprised him.

Except… your foot didn’t quite land how you wanted it to, and you lost balance.

“Shit-”

Noah moved to steady you, but too late. Everything spiralled out of control in a blur of limbs...

And the two of you tumbled backwards, straight onto the couch.

With a heavy thud, he landed on his back with a soft grunt, arms instinctively around your waist, making you land on top of him with a soft, shocked oof. You tried to process what just happened, as you pushed yourself up, your hands on his chest, your legs either side of his.

“Shit-“ you gasped, “I… didn’t mean to do that.”

Noah wheezed a laugh.

“You okay?” He asked gently.

“Yeah- yeah, I just… oh my god, I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“You sure?” He chuckled.

You shifted your weight a little, trying to find a better position as to not fall off the couch completely… and accidentally rolled your hips right over his.

Noah sucked in a sharp breath, and you froze.

Because you felt it.

Oh.

“Oh...” You whispered, eyes going wide.

His jaw flexed, his eyes screwing shut.

“Dont… Don’t move.”

And of course, you immediately moved again, flustered and clumsy, trying to do the right thing, your hips moving again as you tried to roll off of him.

And that only made it worse.

Noah exhaled hard through his nose, grabbing your hips to still you completely.

“I said don’t.”

Your cheeks burned.

“Sorry!" You quickly apologised, now breathless, "I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” he said, voice tight. “It’s fine. Just… don’t panic-“

So you didn’t. You didn’t move. Didn’t dare look at him…

But then you did. And your breath caught in your throat, and you felt that pulse between your thighs.

He was already looking at you, his eyes dark, lips parted, bare chest rising and falling beneath you. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms flexing as he fought to hold you still. And yet… his grip wasn’t forceful, or rough.

You didn’t move, he did. Just a little. His thumbs shifted along your hips, guiding you forward slowly, as if to test. You followed the motion instinctively, and your body rocked against him.

The friction made your thighs tremble.

Noah inhaled sharply, his hands tightening just enough to tell you he felt it too.

“Fuck.” He breathed, his head thrown back.

Your palms braced against his chest, but you didn’t pull back. You stayed there. Hearts pounding. Lips parting.

He looked up at you.

His eyes lingered on your lips, before dragging back up to your eyes, as you continued to gently rock against him.

Neither of you said anything, but neither of you stopped either.

He moved your hips again, just once, and this time you whined, gasping as your forehead dropped to his shoulder.

Then, slowly, the front door opened...

-------------------------------------

the next chapter is already pretty much finished btw so i might post it in a couple days :)

@dragoncopper @renegadebirch @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @xslavicprincess @foliosgirl @h4tef6ck @Jesuisunchaton @saythatuwill @astronoids @missduffsblog @montgomery-929496 @lonelydragonlady @happyclifford @popularpopularmonster @bluehairpunklol @bruce9818 @itsyaboinoah @mayaslifeinabox @lonesomegrace @dominuslunae @lacy1986 @jesuisunchaton @overmydeadbodysblog @kenjipepsi1 @onlyethereal @theright-wrongway @geminigirlfromfinland @miss570 @trvshdxddy @spookieolson @sugaruapologist @latenightmusiclover @eversiincenykenjipepsi1 @shuiguans @lyschko666 @XxKatsatwatwafflexX

if i forgot you (IM SORRY) or you want to be added to the taglist, the link is here! or just comment or message me i don't mind! :)

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hedonist-k1l · 4 days ago

Note

Fluffy daytime thoughts #97: noah goes for a routine blood test and comes back with a cotton ball taped to his arm, he has trouble taking the tape off and doesn't trust the guys to do it since he knows they'll rip it off so he asks you to do it, you take the tape off as slowly and gently as you can and noah ets out a sigh of relief asking if his skin is intact, you chuckle and tell him everything's fine, he then becomes rigid and holds his breath, watching when you rub your thumb over his arm tattoo as you look for any blood stains, you tell him it's all good and he simply nods, thankful that he's sitting down so you can't see his... ahem

(I keep falling asleep before I can send these, I'm sorry!)

ohhhh??? 👀 hehehe 🤭

(it's okay bb :3 ♡♡♡🫂)

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hedonist-k1l · 4 days ago

Note

okay wait i need more now

Fluffy daytime thoughts #98: While he's doing some prep on the off week of a tour, noah gets pissed off at somebody who wasn't doing their job properly so he goes on a walk to cool off, he mutters curse words as he passes by you sitting on a bench, you let out a little noise in question, thinking he's cursing at you, noah stops when he hears you and apologises, telling you that it wasn't aimed at you, you nod and he dips his head before he walks off, leaving you looking at him curiously as he goes; the next day, noah takes a walk down the same route and sees you sitting at the same bench and on the day after, on the fourth day, you head to your spot on the bench only to find noah sitting there, you slowly look around, lost and turn to head back but he asks if you can't just sit next to him, you say he's in your spot and signal for him to move over, noah shoots you an amused expression before he slides over, his arm on the back of the bench as you sit next to him and begin conversations

awww 🥺🥺♡♡

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hedonist-k1l · 4 days ago

Text

i can wait for the next part ahhhHHHH

Blood Sport

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Chapter Sixteen

masterlist

chapter warnings: none? kinda leads into smut at the end but i'm saving that for the next chapter...

sorry for the late post! i was soo tired last night so i didn’t get round to editing it all :(

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You closed the bathroom door gently behind you and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly, preparing yourself for what you were about to do.

Quietly, you locked the lock, hanging up your dress and lingerie on the back of the door, and setting your hair tools and makeup bag down on the counter. This was your space for the next hour or so, and you needed it.

The bathroom, like the rest of Noah’s house, was pretty cool. Black and grey tiles, matte black walls, wooden accents, and a faint lingering scent of whatever body wash he just used in the shower.

You were already in Noah's robe, your hair tied up as you started your makeup. The music you’d put on was playing quietly, just some background noise to distract your focus from the swirl of nerves in your tummy.

You had barely finished your foundation when you heard him knock at the door.

“Babe?”

You paused, sponge in hand.

“Yeah?” You called, a little cautiously.

“Can I come in? I really gotta pee.”

Your eyes went wide.

“No!”

For a moment, he went silent. You thought he went away, until...

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready yet!”

You heard a muffled laugh, followed by his forehead lightly thunking against the door.

“Baby. You know we’re not getting married tonight, right?”

“Yeah… but that’s not the point.”

“Pretty sure it is.” His voice was warm, amused. “You’re treating this like some big reveal.”

“I want it to be a big reveal.” You twisted your mascara open. “And you’re not ruining it.”

Noah groaned playfully.

“Noah. Use the bathroom downstairs.”

“But I’m up here!”

There was another pause.

“…Just a peek?”

“No.”

“Not even a-“

“Noah.”

You could hear the grin in his voice.

“You’re so lucky I love you.”

You smirked, brushing mascara through your lashes.

“You’d better after all the effort I’m putting into tonight.”

He paused for a little longer, you assumed he must’ve finally gone downstairs, until he spoke again.

“I’ve seen you in a million different ways. With bed hair, with no makeup, after crying through a movie, riding me in nothing but your socks… but you getting ready in my bathroom like this? Won’t let me see until you’re fully done? Baby, I think this is the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

Your hand stilled mid brush, your head turning to the locked door.

“I’m being serious,” he went on, voice quieter now. “Just knowing you’re in there getting all dressed up? Putting in this amount of effoty? That you want to look perfect for tonight, for us… Fuck, I'm so lucky.”

You swallowed hard, mascara wand still in your hand.

“…Okay, now you’re kind of making me want to let you in.”

“Don’t tease me like that,” he laughed softly. “I’m seconds away from picking this lock.”

“Don’t even think about it!” You laughed.

…

You gave your reflection one final once over.

Hair done just the way you liked. Makeup perfect. Dress zipped and settled over every curve like it had been crafted just for you. You smoothed your palms over the fabric and took a deep breath.

You looked so fucking hot.

“Noah?” Your voice was soft as you opened the bathroom door.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through something on his phone, he had gotten changed into his black dress pants and shirt, your mouth almost watering at how his sleeves were rolled up...

Then he looked up, and completely froze.

His phone slipped from his hand and landed on the bed without a sound.

You stepped fully into the room, the light catching on your jewellery, your heels tapping gently against the floor. You weren’t even trying to pose, just standing there like it was the most natural thing in the world, and that only made it worse for him. Or better?

Noah stood slowly. His mouth opened, then closed, like he was trying to speak but forgot how to form words.

He exhaled a breath that sounded almost pained.

“Holy fuck.”

“Too much?” You asked with a small smile, already knowing the answer.

“No.” He took a step closer. “No. You could never be too much…”

He was still staring, eyes trailing down from your lashes to your lips, to your dress, your shoulders, your chest, your waist… he swallowed visibly.

Then he said it, voice hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken for days.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You tilted your head.

“I thought you wanted to make it to the party.”

“I did. I do. But now…” he ran a hand down his face, raking it back through his hair. “Now I’m trying to decide if I should call and tell them we're gonna be late.”

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered, and he stepped even closer, hands hovering near your waist, but not touching yet.

“I don’t even know what to do. Cry? Pray? Drop to my knees and fucking beg?”

You lifted a brow.

“You okay there, Noah?”

“No,” he whispered, still not touching you, “I’m not okay. You look like… like a work of art…”

Finally, you reached for him, smoothing your hands over the front of his shirt.

“And you,” you said, your voice teasing, “Are getting wrinkled.”

He laughed breathlessly but didn’t move.

“You wore that set, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip, smiled wickedly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He groaned and pressed his forehead to yours.

“You’re so evil.”

You kissed him gently, just once, before stepping back.

“Now come on. We’ve got a party to get to.”

He looked at the time on the bedside clock, then back at you, clearly torn.

“Three minutes,” he muttered. “That’s all I need."

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you grabbed your clutch.

“You were never this horny before.”

“I was never this in love before.”

…

The car ride to the party was only short, it took about ten minutes to get there from Noah’s place, but it was quiet.

Noah had his hand resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your dress. Music was playing quietly, the driver turned on whatever was on the radio. You were staring out the window, watching the city pass by you in blurs.

You should’ve been excited.

You were excited…

And yet, the closer you got to the venue, the heavier your chest began to feel. Like something was pressing against your ribs, a pressure you couldn’t ignore. A thought you’d been doing so well at silencing these last few days started to sneak back in.

You don’t deserve him.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking down at your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your nails were done- he had paid for you to get them, despite you telling him not to. Your lipstick was perfect. Your dress hugged you like it had been made just for your body.

But you felt like you deserved none of it. You didn’t even deserve to be sat next to him in the backseat right now.

He took you back. Loved you with every little inch of his soul. Treated you like something precious. Even after you had-

“Hey,” Noah’s voice broke softly through your thoughts. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

You blinked and turned your head toward him, smiling a little too quickly.

“Just tired, I think.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“Is it the party? We don’t have to stay long. Just make the rounds, say thank you, I’ll do my speech, then we can sneak out halfway through…”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, trying to wave it off. “I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he reached over and gently tucked your hair behind your ear. His touch was feather light, so careful with you.

“You’re doing that thing,” he murmured, “Where you shrink into yourself, when you go all quiet. I know something’s up.”

You bit your lip, but he didn’t push. He wanted you to speak to him on your own terms.

“I just…” You exhaled, looking down again. “Sometimes I still don’t understand how I got so lucky. Like… what did I do to deserve this? A second chance? You?”

Noah’s brows furrowed slightly, not with confusion, but with hurt.

“Don’t say that.” He said softly.

“I know. I’m sorry, I know we’ve talked about it and I’m okay, I just…” you swallowed the lump rising in your throat. “It sneaks up on me sometimes, when I don’t want it to.”

He reached out, turning your face to look at him.

“Hey, we’ve both made mistakes, okay? Neither of us are perfect, I wouldn’t want you if you were,” he said with a breathy chuckle, “Everything we’ve been through just proves we really love each other, right? And if you’re sitting there thinking you don’t deserve that?” He leaned in a little, eyes searching yours before continuing. “Then I’m gonna spend every day proving you do. Until you see yourself the way I see you. Until you love yourself the way I love you.”

You blinked, tears beginning to fill your eyes, blurring your vision.

“I love you,” he repeated. “So, so much. I know what happened before. We were both hurt by it. But I forgave you, I wanted us to move on. Because I want you. I want this. Nothing you did ever made you unworthy of love, especially not mine.”

You sniffled, wiping under your eyes carefully to avoid smudging your makeup.

“I love you too.”

He leaned over and kissed you, quick and slow at the same time.

“We’re going to walk into this party,” he murmured, lips brushing yours, “And everyone’s going to see you for what you really are.”

You pulled back slightly, blinking in confusion.

“What’s that?”

He smiled.

“The most important person in my life.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just leaned forward, resting your forehead against his and breathing him in.

Then you whispered.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

…

You and Noah walked hand in hand through the doors of the venue. The room that the party was being thrown on was through the hallway a little… and up some stairs.

You sighed, slowing down to a stop at Noah’s side and turning to look at him.

“Great time to be wearing heels. You guys couldn’t have picked a normal venue?”

Without missing a beat, Noah turned to you with the most serious expression imaginable.

“I’ll swap with you.”

“You’ll what?” You blinked up at him.

“My boots for your heels.” He shrugged. “I’ve got great calves. I can pull them off.”

You stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous!” You said, carefully lifting your foot onto the first step.

He followed after you, his hand finding the small of your back almost instinctively as he stood by your side.

“You say that now,” he said with a faint grin, “But if you twist your ankle halfway up, I will carry you. We can make a dramatic entrance.”

“Yeah. I bet you would.”

You took the first step, holding the rail lightly as you walked, but his hand stayed steady at your back.

Every few steps he murmured something.

“You good?” “Not too fast?” “Want me to carry you yet?”

And each one made your heart feel warm, your stomach feeling fuzzy.

When you finally reached the top, slightly out of breath and blinking against the shift in lighting, you turned to him with a grin.

“No twisted ankle. I’m stronger than I look.”

Noah smirked.

“Still would’ve carried you.”

You didn’t even get a chance to respond before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, hand smoothing down your spine like he just needed to touch you, even in the briefest way.

“Ready?” He asked.

You nodded, trying to ignore the nerves in your stomach.

He pushed the door open for you, the music and the sound of chatter immediately getting louder.

You had just stepped through the door, and you weren’t sure if you’d make it any further. You barely recognised a single face.

Noah had told you that they had to invite a lot of people they would’ve rathered to have not. Industry people, friends of friends, but there were also the other people who worked on the album, and real friends of the guys…

And here you were, walking into the Bad Omens album release party on Noah Sebastian’s arm.

No pressure!

Noah’s hand slid down to intertwine with yours.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, just for you. “We’ll walk in together, okay?”

And so you did.

Your heels clicked softly against the hard floor as you moved in time with Noah, trying to keep your eyes forward instead of letting them dart around. But your grip tightened slightly on his hand when someone nearby glanced in your direction. Then again. A double take.

You swallowed, already anticipating the questions.

“Hey, Noah!”

It was Michael, one of the first people you’d spotted that you actually recognised, his face lifting into a smile as he made his way over, arms open in greeting.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Michael said with a smirk, pulling Noah into a quick hug, patting his back before turning to you. “And you must be…”

You told him your name.

“Oh, so you’re the one he’s not shut up about for years… Most of us didn’t believe you were real.” He chuckled, before quickly offering you a hand to shake, “Hi, by the way. I’m Michael. Sorry if that was-”

“No, no- hi!” You laughed, cheeks warming as you shook his hand. “I’ve heard all about you! Nice to finally meet you.”

Michael leaned in with a conspiratorial grin.

“So… you two walked in holding hands...”

Before you or Noah could say anything back, someone else called his name.

“Nowahhh!”

Jesse, curly hair pushed back and glass in his hand, wove through the crowd toward you. Behind him, a couple more members of Erra followed, you knew these were friends of the guys, not just collaborators on the album. Jesse looked between you both, then to Noah’s hand still clasping yours.

“No fucking way.” He laughed, clapped Noah on the back, then turned to you with a big grin. “Hi. I cant remember if we met before, I’m Jesse.”

“I know, I’ve heard all about you,” you smiled shyly, before telling him your name.

Noah squeezed your hand.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Ohhh shit,” Jesse grinned. “Well it’s about time we finally met, y’know he’s been talking about you since I first met him.”

You assumed you’d hear a lot of this tonight.

Before you could answer, you felt a set of eyes on you from across the room. Slowly, you turned… and there he was.

Bryan.

Standing by the bar, half a glass of soda in his hand, staring directly at the two of you.

He raised an eyebrow as he took a slow sip.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on here?” He asked after the two of you approached him.

Noah laughed under his breath, and you groaned quietly, already bracing yourself.

Of course Bryan was the first to actually call it out.

“Bryan…” You began. But before either of you could say another word, a familiar voice cut through the music and conversation.

“So…”

You turned to see Jolly approaching with Nicole on his arm, his expression somewhere between amused and smug.

“I’m guessing you two kissed and made up, huh?”

Nicole elbowed him lightly, but she was smiling too, smiling at you, not daring to let him know she knew.

You froze for a second, your hand still loosely laced with Noah’s. But Noah didn’t falter. He gave Jolly a slight grin and squeezed your hand a little tighter.

“Yeah… it’s kinda hard to stay mad when she looks this good.” He said simply.

You shot him a look.

“Noah!”

“You two are adorable.” Nicole laughed.

“And when were you gonna tell me? Or tell all of us?” Bryan raised an eyebrow.

You hesitated, but Noah spoke before you could.

“Now!”

“That’s convenient.” Jolly chuckled.

Nicole rolled her eyes and looped her arm through yours, tugging you gently to her side.

“Honestly? I’m just glad you’re not miserable anymore. You’ve both been walking around like sad little ghosts for months.”

“So, what is this…?” Jolly asked, hand motioning at the two of you.

“We’re together. We’re dating.”

“He took me on a real date and everything,” you grinned, “Then I stayed at his place and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” another voice called from behind you, sounding a little too excited, “And then I walked in on the two of you the next morning when you were about to-“

“MATT!” You warned, turning quickly to point a finger, telling him to shut up.

“Wait…” Alyson, who has walked in beside him, turned to look up at her husband, “You knew too?”

“You knew?” He furrowed his brow, making you and Nicole chuckle.

“You told her?” Noah asked as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I couldn’t not… And Nicole knew too.”

“So…” Matt began, trying to piece things together, “If we know, and they know, and Folio knows that leaves…”

“Folio knew before me?!” Bryan gasped, scandalised.

“Ruffilo.” Noah nodded, ignoring Bryan entirely as he scanned the room, “Where is he?”

As if on cue, the doors opened again, making everyone turn.

Late, Ruffilo strolled in like he owned the place… wearing dark sunglasses indoors and holding hands with a woman none of you recognised. Tall, gorgeous, dressed in sleek black from head to toe.

“Fashionably fucking late.” Matt muttered.

“Who is that?” Alyson whispered.

“I think that’s his new girlfriend,” Jolly whispered back, “He said something about meeting someone the other week, she was a client of his, I think.”

“Well, this explains why he hasn’t been answering my texts,” Matt scoffed, arms crossed, “Too busy with his new hot girlfriend.”

Ruffilo spotted the group and raised a hand.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late. Traffic was awful. Also… this is Tiffany.”

Everyone murmured some variation of hi, but you were too busy sharing a quick glance with Noah. He leaned into your side a little closer, like he was thinking the same thing you were…

Now or never.

You squeezed his hand once, and he squeezed back.

“Wait,” Ruffilo said suddenly, looking between the two of you. “What’s going on here?”

“If you weren’t so late, you wouldn’t have missed it.” Nicole snorted.

“Wait…” Ruffilo narrowed his eyes. “Are you guys…?”

“Together,” Noah said simply, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Yeah.”

“Like… dating?”

“Yes.” You smiled.

Ruffilo blinked, slowly taking off his sunglasses.

“…Shit.”

“Surprised?” Noah grinned.

“Absolutely not.” He laughed.

“Wait…” Tiffany softly said, “Are these the two you were telling me about, Nicky?”

You tried not to laugh at the nickname, it was cute, you just weren’t expecting it.

“Yeah… I sorta told Tiff about how the two of you are always on again and off again.”

You groaned, hiding your face in Noah’s chest while everyone laughed, but Noah just kissed your temple.

“Yeah, well… there’ll be no more off again.”

…

Everyone knew. They finally knew.

Or at least, the people who you both wanted to know knew. You weren’t sure about the rest of the world, Matt and Alyson were even still a secret and they’ve been married for months now.

The night was getting on, and you were now sat with Folio, who had been chatting to other bands when you came in, whilst you watched Noah do his rounds, talking to the important people who helped make this record possible.

As you watched your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but think about how good he looked tonight. He also looked a little tired, you knew how he hated big events like this, but he was still putting on a smile for everyone.

“He really loves you, you know.” Folio’s voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned your head toward him, raising a brow.

Folio shrugged, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ve seen him go through some shit over the years… And you make him smile like I’ve never seen before.”

Your heart ached a little.

“I just hope I don’t mess it up again.”

“You won’t.” He said it so surely, it startled you. Then he gave a small shrug. “You’re not the same people you were a year ago. Or even six months ago.”

You followed his gaze, he was watching Noah now too.

“I really hope this works out for you this time,” he added softly, voice dipping with sincerity. “Both of you. Because… if it doesn’t, I don’t think he’ll ever love someone like this again. And honestly, I don’t think you will either.”

You blinked fast, your eyes suddenly stinging.

“God, Folio,” you said with a watery laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me ruin my mascara.”

He leaned over quickly, assessing your face. He wiped a small tear away that had escaped, then leaned back again.

“Nope. You still look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You said with a gentle smile.

You glanced over at Noah again. His eyes were already on you, and he was already smiling.

Then you turned back to Folio.

“Y’know, Nick, you’re really an amazing guy, and you’re gonna make someone really happy one day.”

Folio laughed under his breath, shaking his head.

“Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now.”

“Hey, you started it!… But I’m serious,” you said, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him. “Don’t tell Noah I said this, but you’re the kindest, most sweetest man I know. And I hope one day you find the one, and I hope she treats you right.”

“Then why do I always end up playing third wheel to my friends’ romances? Matt and Alyson, you and Noah-“

“Because you’re the glue that holds everyone together,” you teased softly. “And glue doesn’t always get the spotlight.”

He turned his head to look at you, expression a little softer, quieter.

“Maybe. But sometimes I just wanna be someone’s spotlight too.”

You reached out and looped your arm through his, resting your head briefly against his shoulder.

“You will be. She’s out there. And she’s gonna be so fucking lucky when she finds you.”

The two of you sat like that for a moment, in your own little bubble away from the rest of the party… Until the clinking of a fork against a glass echoed from somewhere near the front of the room.

“Speech time!” Folio said, straightening up as he craned his neck to look.

Matt stood on a small raised platform near the DJ booth on the main stage, Alyson beside him in a slinky navy dress, complimenting her blonde hair perfectly, her hand resting casually on his chest. Matt held a half empty glass of coke and cleared his throat dramatically into the mic.

“Alright!” he grinned. “I’m not gonna lie to you guys, I had a speech written out… but then I spilled barbecue sauce on it.”

A ripple of laughter followed.

Alyson rolled her eyes beside him and took the mic.

“He never wrote one.”

“Okay, okay,” Matt chuckled, taking it back “Fine. I didn’t. But I didn’t need to, because all I really want to say is… thank you. To every single person in this room. Whether you played a note on the record, helped out on the production side, or just helped to keep the guys sane during the recording of the album…”

You felt Folio quickly stand beside you and rush to the stage as everyone applauded, and you glanced back toward Noah, he was walking toward the stage now too, Jolly and Ruffilo not far behind.

Matt spotted them and gestured to the side.

“Now I’m gonna shut up and let the guys say something before we play the album in full for the first time!”

The guys all looked at each other awkwardly, and you could imagine they were saying “you go first” “no, you go first!”

Noah finally stepped forward, taking the mic from Matt, who gave him a brief pat on the back as he passed. His eyes scanned the crowd, catching yours for a brief second. It grounded him. You could see it, his shoulders loosened just enough, his jaw unclenched. He took a deep breath.

“Uh… I’m not really good at this part,” Noah began, voice low and steady through the speakers. “I don’t really love parties or speeches or being the centre of attention, believe it or not. But this record… it means a lot.”

He glanced over at Folio, who nodded once, and then to Jolly, who gave a small smile.

“It took a lot out of us. In the best ways, and the hardest ones. There were moments where it felt like this album was writing us instead of the other way around. A lot of the time we were just having fun with it, but then the stress came afterwards when we actually had to make it sound good,” He chuckled, “But it got finished, and somehow, it became something better than any of us imagined.”

The room was quiet now, everyone listening.

“We wanted to make something we were all happy with. And we did, eventually. And we’re proud of it. So… thank you, for supporting us. For being here. And for helping in any way that you have.”

There was another pause, as if he was trying to think of how to word whay he wanted to say.

“And while I’m here… I really want to thank my girlfriend,” Noah added, and it made your heart skip. “For sticking by me through the shit I put you through, for still loving me, for still being there for me after everything. I love you more than you can ever imagine, I always have, and I always will.”

…

The album was still playing through the speakers, there were a few songs left, but that was the last thing you could care about in this moment.

Becasue right now you were curled up beside Noah, sitting along the back wall, away from the rest of the room. The crowd had thinned throughout the night, but neither of you made a move to leave. There was no rush, no pressure. Just you and him.

Your head rested on his shoulder, his hand warm on your thigh. He hadn’t stopped touching you since you sat down together, his thumb rubbing circles, fingers occasionally lacing with yours, as if grounding himself with you beside him. As if making sure you wouldn't slip away again.

You had both been sat in a soft, comforable silence for a while now, neither of you really needed to say anything.

And then, softly, he spoke.

“You know I’ve loved you since that first night, right?”

You blinked, lifting your head a little to look at him.

“What?”

He turned slightly, eyes searching yours.

“Bryan’s birthday. That house party in New York. The night he wanted to introduce us to his best friend... From the moment we first spoke I always hoped that we’d end up like this eventually,” he continued. “Even if we didn’t speak for years.”

You stared at him, throat feeling tight.

“Noah…”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, voice gentle but certain. “I’d see something that reminded me of you, something you said that night, or the way you laughed too loud at my dumb jokes, and it’d all come rushing back.”

Your chest ached, painfully tender.

“I didn't reach out for years because... I was just scared,” he admitted, eyes flicking down for a second. “That you wouldn’t feel the same way. That maybe I’d made it all up in my head, and I’d been holding on for years to something that meant nothing to you.”

Your hands came up to cup his face before you even realised you were moving.

“Noah…” you breathed, eyes swimming, “You...” but your voice broke off.

Tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them.

He caught them with his thumbs, brushing gently.

“Hey…” he whispered, soft and calming, “Why are you crying?”

You tried to speak, to form the words, but all you could do was shake your head.

“Because,” you finally managed, voice cracking, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way for so long… I didn’t think I mattered to you like that. I was so sure it was just me.”

“It was never just you,” he said firmly, forehead resting against yours now. “I've always loved you. Always... Hell, even after I deleted all my socials I used the bands account to keep up with you.”

You broke.

Tears spilled faster, and he pulled you into his arms, his hand holding the back of your head as you pressed your face into his neck. He didn’t shush you, didn’t try to stop you, he just held you through it, his other hand rubbing your back slow and steady.

“I wish I could go back,” you whispered into his skin, “To that night, and tell myself it was real. That it was you.”

“You don’t have to,” he murmured. “Because we’re here now. We made it eventually.”

You nodded, still pressed to him, your body shaking gently with the force of your relief, your joy, your love.

Eventually, he tilted your chin up and kissed you. Soft and slowly, like it was the only thing grounding him too.

When he pulled back, his hand still cupped your face.

"It might sound crazy, but I'm glad we waited to do this." He said.

"Why?" You blinked up at him, still a little dazed from everything he’d just said, and everything you had just felt.

Then, he gave you a soft smile, the kind only you ever got to see.

“Back when we first met… I wasn’t ready for you. I thought about it a lot, like what if we had started something back then? But I was never home, my biggest priority was the band. I wouldn’t have been able to give you what you needed... and I hate to think about how it would’ve ended badly. I'd have dreams about it, us, and you would always ask me to choose between you or the band.”

"Noah, I'd never-"

"Baby, it was just a dream, I know you wouldn't. But this was years ago. Then last year, Bryan asked about bringing you on tour with us. Even then, I was worried about what could happen to us on tour, the stress of it always brings out the worst in me... But then we started our thing and I knew then that this was finally our chance, and I didn't want to mess it up."

"...But I did." You said, no emotion in your voice as you felt your heart shatter in your chest, "And, Noah, please believe me when I say that not a day goes by when I don't regret what I did. I should never have slept with-"

"Hey," he stopped you carefully, placing a hand back on your knee, "Things happen for a reason, okay?"

His thumb moved in slow circles on your knee.

“I don’t want to erase what happened,” he continued gently, “As much as it hurt. Because if none of that happened… maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. Like this.”

You blinked, lips parting to speak but nothing came out. The only thing you could do was nod.

“I told you I tried to hate you for a while,” he admitted quietly, “But it wasn't because of what you did, iy was because I still loved you, even when I didn’t want to. Even when I tried not to.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again.

“I thought I’d lost you forever.” Noah moved closer again, pressing his forehead to yours. “But then you came back.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me back,” you whispered, voice shaking. “After everything…”

“I didn’t think I would either,” he said honestly, then let out the smallest, breathiest laugh. “But I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

He leaned in, kissed the tip of your nose.

“And I sure as hell don’t plan on losing you again.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair. “I forgive you. You’ve got to forgive yourself now, baby. That’s the only part left.”

Your chest ached so deeply it felt hollow.

“I’m trying.”

He kissed the crown of your head. Held you a little tighter.

“Like I said earlier... I’ll help you.”

You let out a soft exhale, like the stillness after a storm.

The music was still playing somewhere behind you, but it had long become background noise. All you could focus on was the man in front of you. His eyes. His hand still on your knee. The safety of his presence.

You shifted slightly in your seat, moving impossibly closer, your cheek brushing his as you leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

“…Think anyone would notice if we left?”

He stilled. Then slowly leaned back enough to look at you.

“You wanna go?” His brows lifted, but there was already a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You nodded, catching your lower lip between your teeth.

“I think I’ve had enough emotion for one night. I just want to be with you... preferably in bed.”

His smirk widened.

“Babe, you can’t say shit like that when you look like that and expect me to be normal about it.”

You laughed under your breath, wiping the last of your tears from your cheeks, and murmured.

“Take me home, Noah.”

He was already standing before you’d even finished the sentence, offering you his hand as he pulled you up with him. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, he'd send a text once he got back, he just led you through the room with his hand tight in yours like a man on a mission.

...

The taxi slowed to a stop outside Noah’s place, and the moment he handed the driver a few bills, you were already climbing out, dress hitched just enough to let you move quickly. The cool night air nipped at your skin, but you didn’t care, your heart was thudding too loudly in your ears to notice anything else.

Noah was close behind, the door shutting with a loud clack, and then he turned to you, lips twitching into a smirk.

“You’re running,” he said, voice low with amusement. “Should I be worried?”

“You should be chasing me.” You countered, shooting him a look over your shoulder before taking off toward the front door.

It took all of five seconds for him to catch up.

Noah fumbled with his keys as you practically bounced on your toes beside him, both of you trying not to laugh too loudly as he unlocked the door, trying to at least act normal until you were indoors. The second it swung open, you slipped inside and darted for the stairs.

“Oh, you wanna be like that?” He laughed, chasing you like thunder up the stairs.

You yelped when he caught you halfway up, arms circling your waist as he pulled you back into him.

“Noah!” you shrieked, breathless from giggling.

“Too slow, baby!" He growled playfully into your neck before hoisting you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“NOAH SEBASTIAN PUT ME DOWN!!!”

“I will. Onto the bed.” He said playfully, you heard him chuckle before his hand landed a smack on your ass.

You smacked at his back, laughing so hard your stomach hurt as he carried you down the hallway and into his room.

With a dramatic spin, he tossed you onto the mattress, and you bounced once, hair fanning out beneath you.

He followed you down instantly.

Looming over you, his knees straddling your hips, Noah grinned down like a man starved. His hands planted either side of your head, eyes dark with want but something much softer was buried beneath.

“Been thinking about this moment all night,” he murmured, nose brushing yours. “You’ve been teasing me in that damn dress for hours.”

Your fingertips toyed with the collar of his shirt.

"Oh yeah... Well, what 'cha gonna do about it?"

With that, his mouth crashed against yours, hungry and hot and breathtaking. You gasped into the kiss, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and dragging him closer.

His hand slid to your thigh, pushing the dress up higher, fingers finding the waistband of your lingerie. He groaned into your mouth.

“Fuck, I knew you were wearing this one.” He whispered, biting down gently on your bottom lip.

“Is that why you couldn’t focus all night?” You grinned, breathless.

“You think I heard a word of the guys’ speeches?”

You giggled, tugging at his shirt again, and he sat back just long enough to strip it off, tossing it somewhere across the room. Then he was back on you, kissing down your throat, across your collarbone...

“Take it off,” you whispered, arching up into him. “I wore it for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, baby.”

--------------------------------------

@bloody-spades @death-ofpeace-ofmind @miss570 @dominuslunae @dontwantthemoney @amelia-acero @noahslutbastian @blade-dressed-in-red @super-btstrash-posts @kait16xo @oobleoob @sunshine-lvrr @lacy1986 @enemiestolovershoe @samanthasgone @superpiratecriminalchef @lukeevangelista @lunabuna991 @ami--gami @bluehairpunklol @darknightstarryeyes @xxkittenkissesxx @renegadebirch @ichoosetenderomens @formula1loversstuff @c0urt-0519 @animal4princess-blog @neeley1w @carrieontillmay @jesuisunchaton @0nlyethereal @ajordan2020 @jesuisunchaton @missduffsblog @lonelydragonlady @mayaslifeinabox @lonesomegrace @geminigirlfromfinland @latenightmusiclover @shuiguans @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @lyschko666

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hedonist-k1l · 4 days ago

Text

im so ready

aes for the next few fresh bruises chapters

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hedonist-k1l · 4 days ago

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this is so freaking cute!!!

Our Island

noah x f!reader - utter fluff.

taglist: @dsireland86 @dragoncopper @lacy1986 @1toreyouapart @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @dream-machine-love @saythatuwill @xmads-omensx @chey-h @floodflameschosen @ichoosetenderomens @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @oobleoob @rumoured-whispers @renegadebirch @looney-goose-19f @super-btstrash-posts @silent-stories if you’d like added or removed let me know.

The rain had started sometime in the late afternoon—soft and persistent, tapping on the windows of the house like a lullaby. It was the kind of weather that invited blankets and candlelight, and the kind of mood that fit perfectly with the plans you and Noah had already made without saying a word.

By the time he stepped out of the studio room, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a quiet sigh on his lips, you were already nestled into the corner of the couch—your Switch in hand, a big bowl of popcorn balanced beside you, and the unmistakable start-up sound of Animal Crossing: New Horizons chiming softly from your speakers.

Noah’s face softened instantly. “You started without me?” he teased, crossing the room to press a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled up at him, smug. “My villagers missed me. Not my fault you were busy being a rockstar.”

He snorted, dropping down beside you and stealing a handful of popcorn. “Right. Blame the music. Not the fact that you’re obsessed with this game.”

You held up your Switch screen, showing off the pristine layout of your island. “Obsessed? Please. I just have taste.”

Noah leaned back, stretching his long legs across the coffee table before reaching for his own Switch from where it sat charging. “Well, prepare to be humbled. I finally finished my orchard this morning.”

“Ohhh,” you drawled, raising a brow. “So you finally got your life together in the virtual world?”

He gave you a look, the kind that said you’re lucky I love you, and shook his head fondly. “Only because my girlfriend sends me suspiciously organized spreadsheets of fruit rotations and shop upgrades.”

You grinned and bumped your shoulder into his. “Love languages. Mine is micromanaging your island aesthetic.”

“And mine,” he murmured, nose brushing your cheek as he leaned in, “is pretending to be annoyed so you keep doing it.”

You paused, breath catching. And then—“Gross. Now go open your gate. I’m coming over to steal your pears.”

He laughed, deep and real, and the sound filled the space between you like warm static. “As long as you don’t touch my hybrid flowers this time.”

“No promises.”

It was nearly midnight before either of you even noticed the time.

You sat cross-legged now, the blanket that had started around your shoulders having been gradually claimed by Noah somewhere around hour two. He was sunk deep into the cushions, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands as he focused intently on rearranging furniture in his in-game house.

“Okay,” you said, poking at his leg with your toe. “Why do you have three scorpions in your living room?”

He didn’t look up. “They’re guarding the throne.”

“You have a throne?”

He tilted his Switch to show you. “Yeah. Right in the center. Surrounded by scorpions. And a lava lamp.”

You blinked. “Noah.”

“What? It’s a vibe.”

“It’s a nightmare, is what it is.”

He smirked, not at all ashamed. “You’re just jealous my house has more personality.”

You scoffed, picking up your own Switch. “My house is a serene minimalist dreamscape. I have an outdoor reading nook, a koi pond, and an actual matching theme.”

“I bet your villagers are scared to sit anywhere.”

“They’re enlightened,” you corrected. “Zen. Peaceful.”

“They’re terrified,” Noah shot back. “They told me.”

You gasped dramatically. “You’ve been conspiring with my villagers behind my back?”

He turned toward you, eyes bright. “Let’s just say Fauna and I are close now.”

You gaped at him. “Noah. She’s my favorite.”

“She sends me letters,” he said, smug. “With gifts.”

“You wooed Fauna?”

“I wouldn’t say wooed—more like… befriended. Intentionally. Because I knew it would drive you crazy.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it with a laugh and pulled you into his lap without warning, Switch still clutched in his hand. “You’re so dramatic,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you squirmed.

“I take Fauna seriously. She’s precious.”

“So are you,” he said easily, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But you’re even cuter when you’re fake mad.”

You let out a sigh, settling against him despite yourself. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I’m lucky you love me,” he corrected softly.

You went still, heart stuttering for half a second before you turned your head just enough to meet his eyes.

“I do,” you whispered. “Even if you make friends with my villagers behind my back.”

His lips curled into a smile as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I’d defect to your island in a heartbeat if you asked.”

“You already basically live there.”

“Exactly.” He kissed your shoulder. “And I’m never leaving.”

Sometime later, you both migrated to the floor with tea and candy and a shared blanket you pretended wasn’t half Noah’s hoodie at this point. The Switches had long since been abandoned, your characters probably idle somewhere near Nook’s Cranny or passed out on a bench.

Noah had his head in your lap now, fingers lightly trailing along the edge of your knee as the rain continued to tap against the windows. The soft instrumental music from the game menu looped in the background, blending with the occasional rustle of blankets and the sound of your breathing syncing.

You toyed with the end of his hair, running it between your fingers absentmindedly.

“I think we should make a real version of the garden I built in the game,” you said after a long moment.

Noah’s eyes opened slowly, sleepy but focused. “The one with the moon pond and the star fragments?”

“Mmhmm. And the lily-of-the-valley path.”

He considered this. “You’d help me build it?”

You smiled. “Of course. You build the throne room, I’ll build the sanctuary.”

He closed his eyes again. “That’s how I know we’re perfect.”

You hummed, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw. “What, because of our decor differences?”

“Because you build peace and I build chaos. And somehow it still works.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Because we do it together.”

It was almost 2AM when Noah, barely awake but stubbornly clinging to consciousness, mumbled, “I think I want to make a villager that looks like you.”

You blinked, amused. “You mean a character on your island?”

“Yeah. I’ll name her after you. Give her the coziest house. Send her letters every day.”

You laughed quietly, brushing his hair off his forehead. “You’re already dating me, you know. You don’t have to romance my pixel version too.”

“No, but it’d be cute. Like a reminder. Of us.”

Your heart fluttered painfully soft in your chest. “You already have a reminder,” you whispered.

He opened one eye. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Me. Right here.”

His smile was lopsided, sleepy. “Best reminder I’ve got.”

The game had stopped playing long ago, both Switches dark, the night finally stealing you both under its weight. But the warmth of the couch, the hush of rain, and the way Noah’s fingers found yours even in his sleep — it was the kind of quiet that didn’t need noise.

Just you, him, and a digital island where everything was exactly the way you built it together.

And in the real world, a love just as intentional.

The morning after your last Animal Crossing marathon, the world outside was still gray with rain — a soft, misty quiet that felt like a held breath. You’d both fallen asleep tangled in each other and the remnants of a game that had somehow become as much a part of your love story as any tour memory or studio late night.

When you stirred, Noah was already awake, his Switch in hand, the faint glow reflecting off his hoodie-draped frame as he sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

“You’re cheating,” you said, voice still sleepy.

He glanced over his shoulder with a smug grin. “It’s not cheating. It’s preparation.”

You narrowed your eyes. “For what?”

He turned fully toward you, excitement flickering in his eyes. “There’s a festival on your island tonight.”

You blinked. “A what?”

“I got a letter from Isabelle,” he said, clearly proud. “Fireworks. Balloon stalls. All that cheesy romantic crap you love.”

You sat up a little straighter. “Wait, my island?”

He shrugged. “I may have logged into your game before you woke up.”

“You what?”

“I was organizing your flower beds.”

You stared at him. “You logged into my game to garden?”

“And check on Fauna,” he added casually.

“Noah.”

He stood, stretching like a cat, then leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Get dressed. We have a festival date. Your pixel self is gonna love it.”

By the time you settled back into the living room, tea in hand and hair in a messy bun, Noah had fully taken over your Switch dock and was already coordinating outfits in Able Sisters.

“For both of us?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “We’re going to match. I picked the pink yukatas.”

You raised a brow. “You realize you’re fully turning into a cozy gamer boyfriend, right?”

“I’m deep in the lore now,” he muttered, focused on finding the perfect sandals. “There’s no going back.”

As the sun set in-game, so did the real one outside — casting warm light through your curtains as you settled side by side, blanket across both laps, Switches docked and joy-cons in hand.

Your villagers had gathered in the plaza. Isabelle stood by a little fireworks cart, cheerful as ever, while pixel versions of you and Noah wandered toward the glowing night sky.

“I’m buying us matching sparklers,” Noah said.

You snorted. “We already match.”

“Yeah, but now we sparkle.”

He handed your character a balloon and took a screenshot. “Look at us.”

You peeked over. Your characters stood side by side — matching yukatas, tiny sparklers in hand, stardust falling from the virtual sky behind them.

“Honestly,” you whispered, “this might be the most romantic date we’ve ever had.”

Noah turned to you, expression soft. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that.”

Later, the festival wound down and the villagers slowly disappeared from the plaza — returning to their little homes, pixel lanterns flickering through their windows.

But you and Noah weren’t finished.

“We should do a treasure hunt,” he said suddenly.

“In the game?”

He nodded. “I’ve hidden items all over your island. If you find them all, you get a prize.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What kind of prize?”

He grinned. “Play and find out.”

The first item was tucked behind your stargazing bench — a wrapped box containing a star wand.

The second was buried near the koi pond — a shell bed you’d always admired.

The third was behind your bamboo garden — a stack of love letters. Not digital ones. Actual photos of hand-written notes, scanned into the game using a custom pattern. They read like poetry.

You paused, breath catching. “Noah…”

He looked over, suddenly shy. “Keep going.”

You found the last one behind the lighthouse.

It was a custom-designed pattern — pixel art of your favorite memory together. The two of you, side by side on a beach, the sky above filled with stars.

And beneath it, a message:

“In every world, real or pixel… you’re home.”

Your heart squeezed.

You didn’t say anything for a long moment. Just stared, blinking back something soft in your chest. Then, wordlessly, you set the Switch down and turned to him.

His eyes were warm. Hopeful. Waiting.

You climbed into his lap, arms winding around his neck, and whispered, “I think that was the best date I’ve ever had.”

He kissed you like he’d been waiting all day for it. Like all the islands and all the stars had lined up just for this moment. His hands rested at your waist, his forehead brushing yours as he said softly:

“I love the way you love this game.”

You laughed. “It’s not just the game.”

He smiled. “I know.”

You kissed him again — longer this time. The Switches sat on the coffee table, screens gone dark, but the magic hadn’t left the room.

It was here.

In your lap.

In his hands.

In the quiet.

That night, curled up in bed with your feet tangled and your hands still smelling faintly like popcorn and candle wax, Noah whispered:

“We should make a new part of the island. Just for us.”

You blinked sleepily. “Like what?”

“A little cabin in the woods. With a record player. And a hammock. Like our own little escape.”

You smiled against his chest. “You already built that.”

“No,” he said. “This time you help.”

So the next morning, that’s exactly what you did.

You spent hours planting trees, building fences, arranging wildflowers. You argued over the color of the hammock and laughed until your cheeks hurt when Noah accidentally fenced himself in and couldn’t get out.

You built a little cabin with a porch. A telescope on the cliffside. Custom patterns that looked like tiny records. You called it the “sleepy sanctuary.”

And when it was done, you both stood there in-game, watching the pixel sun set over your creation.

“I want to live here,” you whispered.

“You do,” Noah murmured. “Every time we play.”

The real world ticked by — days blurred into soft evenings, cups of tea and tangled limbs, joy-cons passed between hands and kisses dropped onto foreheads mid-load screen.

Your villagers threw a birthday party for Noah’s character. You hosted fishing tournaments. You built a campsite together. You watched meteor showers and made wishes with your in-game selves — side by side, forever watching stars.

And one night, when the real sky outside looked just like the pixel one inside, Noah looked at you and said, “I like this version of forever.”

You reached for his hand. “So do I.”

Because in every world you could build — from tour buses to quiet islands — this love, this chaos, this soft and steady home in each other?

It was always the same.

Endlessly yours.

Endlessly safe.

Endlessly… real.

The first clue showed up on your island without warning.

You’d been walking the beach in-game, collecting shells and doing your usual rounds when you spotted something new nestled beside the lighthouse. A pattern on the sand — a heart made of tiny white flowers. In the center, a single wrapped gift.

You opened it. Inside was a wedding arch.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. Then turned your head to where Noah sat beside you, joy-con in hand, an entirely neutral expression on his face.

“Did you do this?” you asked.

He didn’t look at you. “Do what?”

“This heart on the beach?”

He shrugged. “Must’ve been Fauna.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fauna gave me a wedding arch?”

“She’s supportive of our relationship.”

“Noah.”

He finally cracked a smile, still not looking away from his screen. “Just thought your island could use some romance.”

You stared at the arch. It was elegant, all soft pinks and creams — more beautiful than anything you’d ever placed on your map. You didn’t move it.

A few days later, a new path appeared.

You’d logged on early, expecting your usual morning routine — checking turnip prices, watering your flowers, saying hi to the villagers. But there it was: a winding trail of custom pattern stones weaving through your orchard, leading toward a grove you hadn’t touched in weeks.

At the end of it? A picnic scene. Custom patterns laid like blankets. A stereo. A basket. Another wrapped gift.

This time, it was a ring box furniture item. Just a prop, of course — one you’d seen before in the shop but never bothered to buy.

You felt your heart stutter anyway.

You called out without looking up. “Noah.”

“Hmm?”

“I found another one.”

He played dumb again. “Found what?”

“You’re being weird.”

He finally set his Switch down and turned to face you. “I just like building things for you.”

You stared at him. “You’re building something.”

His expression softened. “Maybe.”

In the days that followed, your island transformed piece by piece.

First, your flower field expanded — all your favorite colors, perfectly arranged. Then, a path of glowing star fragments led from your town center to the sleepy sanctuary you’d built together. The hammock had been replaced by a bench for two. The telescope pointed at a heart-shaped constellation. The signpost now read: “Where forever starts.”

You didn’t say anything. Not yet.

But your heart started fluttering differently every time you picked up your Switch.

Noah was quiet during most of these updates — just watched your reactions out of the corner of his eye, pretending to fish or reorganize his inventory.

But every time your avatar stumbled across something new, you noticed the corners of his mouth twitch.

He was waiting for something.

You just didn’t know what yet.

On a Thursday night, he turned to you casually as you were mid-villager conversation.

“Don’t make plans tomorrow night.”

You paused. “Why?”

“I scheduled something.”

You raised a brow. “In-game?”

He smiled. “And in real life.”

The invitation came in the mail — the in-game kind.

Your mailbox blinked with new letters, and when you opened the most recent one, it read:

“Meet me at sunset. Dress fancy. I have something to show you. -N 💛”

Attached was a custom-designed dress. Pale ivory with floral embroidery. There was a matching flower crown.

You stared at it.

Your hands were warm.

Your chest was full.

You looked over at Noah, who sat cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with his joy-cons and doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t holding his breath.

You didn’t say anything — just smiled, turned back to your Switch, and changed into the dress.

That night, you logged on at 6:55PM. The in-game sky was just starting to shift — soft peach tones bleeding into violet as the sun began to dip behind your island trees.

Noah’s avatar waited at the edge of your plaza, dressed in a matching suit you’d never seen him wear before.

He motioned for you to follow.

He led you slowly — through your town square, down the winding path of flowers, past the waterfall you’d decorated together. Everywhere you looked, there were signs. Custom tiles on the ground: “One step closer.” “Almost there.” “Turn left for magic.”

Your screen finally panned to the sleepy sanctuary.

It looked different now.

A full moon hung over the digital sky. Fireworks were ready to launch. There were candles — actual tiny candle patterns lighting the path to the bench.

And in front of the bench stood Noah’s avatar.

Next to a glowing ring box.

In-game Noah took a step forward.

You gasped.

Your real-world Noah put down his controller.

When you turned to him, he was already moving — reaching into his hoodie pocket, a faint, almost nervous smile on his face.

And then, in real life, he pulled out the exact same ring box.

He didn’t drop to one knee.

He didn’t make a big speech.

He just leaned toward you, hands slightly shaking, eyes full of stars, and whispered:

“It started as a pixel dream. But it’s always been real to me.”

You couldn’t breathe.

He opened the box. Inside was a simple, stunning ring. Delicate. Soft. Thoughtful. Everything he was.

“I wanted to ask you here first,” he murmured, nodding toward the screen, “because this is the world we built together.”

He looked back into your eyes.

“And now I want to build the rest of it with you.”

You didn’t need time to think. Didn’t need more words. Didn’t need anything except this — this moment, this man, this love.

“Yes,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “Yes, Noah.”

He let out a breath — like he’d been holding it for weeks — and slid the ring onto your finger with the same gentle care he used when placing pixel flowers.

The game kept running in the background — your characters standing beneath fireworks, hearts floating above their heads.

And in real life, Noah held you like he never planned to let go.

You looked at your hand. Then at him.

“You really built a proposal inside Animal Crossing.”

He grinned. “I had to outdo myself.”

“I think you broke me.”

He kissed your cheek. “I’ll patch you back up.”

You laughed. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And you said yes to me anyway.”

“I said yes to both versions of you.”

He pulled you closer. “Same.”

That night, long after the game was off and the world had gone quiet, you lay in bed with your hand resting over Noah’s heart — the ring catching moonlight.

You whispered, “You know you proposed twice, right?”

He smiled sleepily. “One for the pixels. One for the soul.”

And with that, you drifted into a dream that felt exactly like waking up — because real or virtual, this was home.

And forever had already begun.

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