iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning - Tumblr blog

iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 3 days ago

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this was so good omfgggggg

intimate silence II • n.s

pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

words: 3.5k - part 2/2 - read part one here

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.)

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

"Do you want to come in?"

Noah blinked, surprise momentarily flickering in his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t full, rather it was lopsided- mirroring his gaze as a sign of uncertainty.

"I... uh," he stammered, taken aback by the invitation.

You gave him an encouraging nod, "It's late, and it's raining. Plus..." you shrugged nonchalantly, the tremble in your voice betraying you, "I have better coffee than the pub?"

"Alright then," Noah agreed softly, unbuckling his seatbelt and following you out into the rain-soaked street.

Both of you hurried towards the entrance of the apartment building, as if afraid to get wet in already soaked clothes.

Unlocking the door to your space, you ushered him through the foyer into a small but cozy living room scattered with remnants of life; photographs, half-read books, and an assortment of handpicked knick-knacks.

He moved around awkwardly, rubbing his nape while looking at one wall almost obsessively. Noah stopped before a collection of pictures pinned to a corkboard, his gaze lingering on an old high school photograph of you two embracing amidst carnival chaos, his arm securely around your waist.

"It's not as bad as it looks," you finally broke the silence, nodding at the room shyly. He simply chuckled in response before turning back toward you.

"No... It's great," he countered, assuring you with a soft smile. "Feels like you."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Wait here," you quickly added before escaping into the kitchen area to make the coffee.

His voice filtered in from the living room as he continued his explorations, "You've been with Erin for so long, yet it doesn't look like he ever lived here."

With your back turned to him, you allowed the small, rueful smile to grace your lips. "I guess I never let him really move in," you admitted quietly, “Plus, got rid of what was left pretty quickly.”

In the following silence, you could almost hear his pondering. You came back out carrying two steaming mugs of coffee and found him still standing by the corkboard. His gaze was gentle as he traced over each photograph, letting the memories associated with them wash over him.

He thanked you for the coffee as he took a sip, approvingly humming at the taste.

“Oh, I’ll grab you something else to wear, so I can put your clothes in the dryer. I think I have a hoodie and some shorts that might fit you.”

"Thanks," he nodded, appreciating the offer. As you disappeared to fetch the clothes, Noah trailed his fingers over the old photo at the carnival one last time before turning his attention to the warm mug in his hands.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear you reenter the room until you set a pile of clothing on the armrest next to him. He blinked, bringing himself back to reality with a sheepish grin.

"I can, um, change in the bathroom?" He asked, already gathering the borrowed clothes up in his arms. Your heart fluttered with an unfamiliar affection at this Noah- careful, considerate, and oh so different than the boy from your high school years.

"Sure," you nodded, pointing him towards the hallway. "Down there, first door on your left."

You went to change yourself, putting on some sweats and a hoodie. Your mind raced with everything that happened, and as you opened your bedroom door you almost ran into Noah coming out of the bathroom.

His appearance startled you, and you found yourself taken aback by how even the act of changing into a simple sweater and shorts could make him look so alluring. He looked different somehow—his dark hair tousled from the rain with drips still trickling down his neck, eyes softer, and a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. The hoodie was a little tight on his broad shoulders, his tattooed arms peeking out from under the slightly short sleeves.

"Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he stepped aside to let you pass.

"No worries," you responded quickly, smiling at him in return.

He then looked passed you, into the room you came from. “That your bedroom?”

"Yeah," you chuckled lightly.

It seemed strange having Noah here in your apartment, standing in your hallway, looking into your room. You dreamed of things like this for years; that now it felt unreal.

His face softened considerably as his gaze met yours again, a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Can I take a look?” he asked, and you nodded silently.

You watched him walk towards your room with an almost reverent gentleness in his steps. From outside, you observed him taking in all the little details; from the neatly stacked books on your bedside drawer to the comfortable cushions spread across the bed.

"It's...nice." Noah commented after a moment, before his eyes landed on a pile of items beneath your night stand. “Wait…You still have this?”

The brunette bent down, reaching for the plastic case.

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” You laughed quietly, walking up to him slowly to admire the memory.

Noah glanced at you quickly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he opened up the CD case, trailing his fingers over the dust and years of scratches, “Looks like you havent played it in a while.”

All you could do was shrug at his comment, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater nervously.

"Slow Dance Surprise" he read the words on top of the disc aloud, a soft smile spreading across his features. "I remember making this for you the summer we left our first year of high school."

Comparatively, you smiled softly at the memory. "Every teenage girl's dream," you bantered lightly, "A mixtape from her long-time friend."

"Crush," Noah corrected with a playful bump to your shoulder.

“Crush," you echoed, admiring the light blush that was creeping onto his cheeks.

Taking the CD out he placed it in the old player on your night stand, pressing play. The fact it even turned on surprised you.

An old track began to play- the familiar tune of a song that had once echoed through your room on hundreds of school nights.

Now, it stretched across the room, relishing in the nostalgia of you and Noah together, once again.

"Would you...like to dance?" He asked, placing the case gently on your nighstand and extending a hand towards you. His movements were gentle; his gaze never leaving your face, silently pleading for you to take his lead.

A mischievous smile quirked at your lips as you reached out to take his hand. "To your high school playlist? You sure about that?"

His arm snaked around your waist, drawing you towards him with an ease that only familiarity could bring. His hand felt warm against your back as you slowly swayed together in rhythm with the old track, a peaceful comfort wrapping around you both.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Long shadows danced on the walls as your bodies moved through the dimly lit room.

His lips were tantalizingly close, brushing ever so slightly against yours during the quieter moments of the melody. Your heart pounded against your ribcage in an echo of your growing anticipation that became more and more difficult to suppress as moments slipped into minutes.

His voice was soft when he whispered into your ear, "This feels right."

And to be honest, it did.

It felt like a puzzle piece finding its rightful spot after being misplaced for years.

The song changed then, the bittersweet nostalgia of the first melody replaced by a throbbing rhythm that was just as familiar.

"Remember this one?" Noah muttered against your forehead, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

You smiled, recalling the endless nights you spent dissecting the lyrics- wondering if he had put this on the CD to tell you something.

"You always insisted this song meant nothing," you chuckled, recalling your teenage self's futile attempts to understand his intentions. "Just liked the beat," you mimicked his past self, lifting an eyebrow playfully.

He laughed; a sound so genuine it warmed you from the inside out.

"I lied," he admitted, tightening his grip around your waist.

“Glad to know I wasn’t crazy.”

"You weren't, I promise," he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. Suddenly, his thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away an errant tear you hadn't noticed had escaped. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Yes," you whispered. You let go of a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and wrapped your arms more tightly around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Good," he murmured into the soft silence of the room, his scent filling your senses and making your heart flutter.

You closed your eyes then, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation of being so close to him, after all this time. It felt weird, chaotic, and messy; all while entangling your heart into a beat of amenity.

Until he put his lips on yours again.

You melted into his kiss, surrendering your senses entirely to him; allowing the mix of feelings dance off your tongue and onto his.

His fingers combed through your damp hair, deepening your shared rhythm as if each drawn breath was woven together between years of intimate silence.

It wasn’t long before he slowly pushed you back against the wall, both of your hands beginning to test the boundaries.

Noah’s fingers gripped your waist as his hips pressed against you, his teeth grazing on your lips hungrily.

An ever-growing need filled your throat as you reached up to rake your fingers through his dark locks.

"Tell me this is happening," Noah murmured against your lips as he tried to catch his breath, trailing kisses along the line of your jaw down to your neck. His words tickled your skin, a searing imprint of his vulnerability that made you swallow back a whimper.

"It is," You reassured him with sincerity laced in your voice.

“Tell me you want this to happen.” He whispered as his fingers teased the bottom of your hoodie, nails gently dragging across the skin of your stomach and tugging the fabric upward, slowly.

“I do,” You nodded as you kissed him.

There was a series of soft kisses before Noah's lips found yours again, a tender caress that left you breathless. His fingers inched higher, the cool touch of his skin against your bare waist, enigmatic.

Suddenly, he faltered, his kisses slowing as realization dawned on him. "Are you sure?" He breathed, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Yes," You whispered ensuring him once again, touching his stubbled cheek lightly with a trembling hand, "I've never been more certain."

He then sighed into the kiss, as if all the apprehension of the last several years was being released in that single breath. Pressed so closely against him, you could feel his heart's erratic rhythm under your fingertips. His grip on your waist tightened as he drew you deeper into the kiss, pulling you towards your bed.

"I need you," he barely muttered against your skin as your sweater was thrown to the floor, then his.

His desperation echoed through every strained word, every heavy breath.

“I need you too, Noah. I’ve always needed you.”

He crawled over you, laying on his back as he pulled you on top of him. Straddling his waist, you leaned down to kiss him hungrily again, placing your hands against his bare chest.

You rolled your hips as his hands guided the motion, until Noah tugged at your waistband, pulling the grey fabric down your hips as his fingers kneaded the skin below.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing you this way for years.” He breathlessly laughed, eyes scanning your body with half lidded eyes, before passing you a slutty grin. As you helped him tug the sweatpants fully off, your face warmed.

Naked under his intense gaze, you pulled him closer to you again, your mouth finding his. His fingers traced lines of fire as they roamed your body, a map he hadn’t discovered before but seemed all too eager to explore now.

His hand then settled between your thighs as you straddled him, rubbing circles against the skin that had him straining hard against the shorts he wore.

Noah's name fell from your lips in a pleading whisper muffled by his mouth moving over yours. His fingers moved delicately inside of you, painfully slow yet agonizingly just what you needed.

"Touch me," Noah murmured into your ear, his voice shaking with desire. It was the boldest he'd been thus far, the echoing ache in his voice mirroring the pooling warmth between your legs. Complying, you nipped down at his lower lip before trailing kisses down his throat, your hand tracing over the muscles of his chest. He groaned under your touch, but it was the sudden need in his gaze that coaxed you further.

His shorts were discarded onto the floor, joining your clothes with an ease that spoke volumes about your shared desperation and longing.

His hands quickly found their way to your waist again, gripping tightly as if he needed to anchor himself to reality.

"God..." Noah moaned against your ear, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. You licked your fingers before trailing them up and down his arousal, coaxing another sound from him.

"Your hands feel so good,” He whispered, rutting into your grasp as you began stroking him up and down in a rhythmic motion. “Turn around.”

“What?” You asked, meeting his half lidded gaze as he rutted his hips into your hand.

“Turn around so I can eat you out.”

His request came unexpected. Your eyes widened slightly at his words before warmth rose to your cheeks. He chuckled at your adorable reaction, brushing away a tendril of hair that had fallen onto your forehead.

"Unless... Unless you don't want to," he added quickly, worry flickering in his brown gaze, “I just really want to taste you.”

You bit your lower lip, mulling over his proposal.

"I-- I do want... that," you stammered, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

Turning around, you backed up till you were inches away from sitting on his face; his own desire right by your mouth. Noah’s breath was warm as it brushed against your core, the soft string of swears that left his mouth making your arousal pool with need.

With inked fingers gripping your hips, he pulled you down onto his mouth- his tongue immediately licking a strip between your folds.

“Oh-” you whispered, subconsciously pressing back into his mouth as he began to suck on the delicate skin.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, earning a groan from you as he sunk a finger into your body.

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, brows furrowing as you then took his cock into your mouth, attempting to do your best with the angle, and while pleasure rushed through you.

Each lick and suck against you made coherent thought difficult. Noah was undeniably good, his clever tongue managing to find every sensitive spot whilst his fingers explored deeper inside you. His own moans from your hesitant mouth-work vibrated against your core, adding another layer of sensation that had you coming undone.

He groaned at your actions, sending a vibration through you that made you shudder. His hips began to buck upward into your mouth as you swirled your tongue along his tip.

"Fuck," Noah muttered against your inner thigh, pulling away from your core briefly as he began to pant. Pleasure rippled through you in waves, your teeth slightly grazing against him; barely there touches eliciting a soft grunt from him as he pressed his face deeper between your thighs.

“S-stop,” He whispered, “I’m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You hummed, gagging on him once more before pulling off. “Would that be so bad?”

He chuckled lowly as he licked another strip along your arousal, “No. But I want to cum from being inside your pussy the first time- not your mouth.”

His words triggered something deep within you, a surge of longing that clenched your body tight. "I want that too," you admitted breathlessly, the pooled wetness between your thighs acting as testament to your statement.

With a hasty nod, Noah immediately pulled you off him and flipped you over, his eager fingers trailing along your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His length pressed against you in an intimate promise, and he looked at you once more time before pushing inside.

A soft gasp broke the room's heavy silence, but it was unclear whether the sound came from him or you. His head fell down onto your shoulder, hot puffs of air hitting the skin there as he struggled to stay composed.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, chewing on the skin of your collarbone, “You feel so fucking good.”

A low groan vibrated from his throat as he stilled for a moment, allowing you time to adjust to his body, and him yours.

“I need you to show me how much you regretted not making me yours all those years ago.” You said as your fingers raked down his back.

Noah scoffed, meeting your gaze as he began to thrust slowly into your body, picking up pace with each stride. “Then I’m going to need to fuck you hundreds of more times. To make up for it.”

You watched him hang above you, each of Noah’s thrusts making your thighs shake against him.

He placed a thumb against your clit, lightly tracing circles to match his pace as his desire slid between your folds. You stared at him watching where the two of you connected, eyes heavy as he chanted your name with praises.

“Y-your cock is so good,” You cried, clinging to his skin.

"Yeah?" he groaned, gaze flitting from your eyes briefly before back down to your arousal. "Tell me more," he coaxed, a dark chuckle echoing from his throat. His rhythm picked up, relentless thrusts that had your back arching off the mattress, wordless cries tearing from your lips.

"Can't... can't think," you whimpered, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as you fought to keep up with the pace he was setting.

Noah's free hand was suddenly in your hair, tangling in the messy locks as he tugged your head back to expose your throat. His tongue then traced a burning path from your collarbone up to the pulse point at the base of your neck, sinking his teeth into the delicate skin with a soft growl.

"Gonna mark you," he promised between labored breaths as white-hot pleasure rippled through your body. "You're mine now. Until I die."

Another thrust - this one deeper, more deliberate. His breath hitched before letting out another restrained moan, his lips brushing against the mark that began forming on your neck.

"I thought you'd be the best thing I'd ever have and- god, you are." He whispered.

"More, Noah," your voice echoed in the room, raw with need. Your hand found one of his, intertwining your fingers together as he kept pushing into you, his free hand circling your clit faster.

Heavy pants echoed through the room as he shifted slightly to grant you more depth, a change that drew another soft sound from throats tangled in the melody of wanting.

"So good," he murmured raggedly between gasps for breath, “I-I’m close.”

Your abdomen clenched as your own climax grew, threatening for release.

“Cum in me,” You begged, his eyes locking with yours immediately.

“W-what?” The brunette’s brows furrowed with desperation and hunger at your words, despite the uncertainty.

You nodded, biting your lip as you held onto your orgasm for a moment longer, “Please Noah, I need your cum inside of me. Make me yours, as I always have been.”

Your words shattered him.

A guttural groan tore from his throat as his lips crashed into yours, desperate, claiming. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he growled, stroked ragged and deep. “You’re mine.”

That was all it took.

Your body broke apart beneath him, pleasure curling through your spine as you came around him- trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. His moans laced with yours, raw and wrecked, until his final thrust stilled, hands clutching you like he’d drown without the anchor of your skin.

“I love you,” Noah choked out through a cracked voice, his breath trembling.

You kissed him, hard and needy- almost breaking under the weight of the words. Somehow all the years of pain, memories, silence, what-ifs and aching distance, had led here. And suddenly, they felt worth it.

Because in the end… It was always him.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

His hand slid to your cheek, forehead against yours with a thumb tracing your lips, like he still couldn’t believe you were really here.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

“I love you,” you breathed, smiling through the tears you hadn’t realized were there.

And for the first time in forever, you weren’t waiting anymore, and neither was he.

You had him, just as he had you.

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 4 days ago

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oh his smile🥺

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 5 days ago

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okay that was actually the cutest thing i’ve ever read pls my heart can’t take it

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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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 5 days ago

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lmao i didn’t see anyone say anything abt it on tumblr but then i realized i probably already have them blocked☺️

Can you guys confirm that Noah never said anything about wanting to PERFORM with disturbed? At least not recently?

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 6 days ago

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its one of the reasons i don’t go on twt anymore bc they’re always freaking out abt some kind of bullshit that’s either old, irrelevant, simply just false

Can you guys confirm that Noah never said anything about wanting to PERFORM with disturbed? At least not recently?

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 6 days ago

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it won’t let me comment so i’m reblogging but the only thing i’ve seen was him making a comment about how david draiman was one of the inspirations for his vocal style but i don’t remember seeing anything else where he talked about wanting to perform with them

Can you guys confirm that Noah never said anything about wanting to PERFORM with disturbed? At least not recently?

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 6 days ago

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 7 days ago

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at all times

social battery -1%

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 7 days ago

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“my Iove” is so cute like yes say it again

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iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning · 7 days ago

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Summary: A slip of the tongue during breakfast reveals Noah’s true feelings towards you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x f!reader.

CW: absolute fluff and sweetness, a little touch on self doubt, enchanted!noah is crazy in love, declaration of love.

This wasn’t how Noah had intended to say it, not as a slip of the tongue when he went to leave for the day, but something about it felt so natural, a reflex that followed the usual string of goodbye kisses. Always multiple, because he can never stop at just one, not when he knows he’ll be away from you for a while. He always has to go into double digits.

It’s one of those rare mornings when you have the day off and he doesn’t. He has a full schedule of meetings pulling him away for the next few hours, but when he wakes, he finds you in the kitchen—bowl tucked beneath your arm as you whisk the eggs you’ve meticulously cracked.

You’d shown him the trick not long after you started staying over, back when breakfast in bed became a thing for the both of you—one bowl to crack each egg into, and a second to pour it into afterward.

“It’s easier to fish out eggshells from one egg than from a whole mix,” you told him, a little tidbit he’s tucked away and kept using since, especially when you’re not around.

You’re humming as you go—a melody that doesn’t sound familiar but is soft enough to lull him into a sense of peace. He watches the slow sway of your hips, the way you seem dreamlike, lost in your own little world. You look too serene for him to disturb, but when he does, he’s careful—stealthy—as not to catch you off guard. His hands settle at your hips as he steps up behind you, and your hum shifts into one of quiet acknowledgment as you instinctively lean back into him.

He gives your hips a gentle squeeze in greeting, hands sliding around to meet at your front, settling just over your stomach as his head dips. He can’t resist the bare glimpse of your shoulder, where your oversized tee slips off slightly, revealing skin he’s already kissing—nipping gently before trailing his lips up the column of your neck.

“Morning to you too,” you muse, your smile bleeding into your voice. His lips curl into a grin against your warm skin, pressing one final kiss to the nape of your neck as he moves to nuzzle beneath the messy bun you’ve tied up to keep your hair out of your face.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and unused until now. You’d slipped out of bed before he even woke—a small, selfish disappointment in waking to cold sheets after becoming so accustomed to your warmth beside him.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asks, peeking over your shoulder as you pour the egg mixture into the pan, completely unfazed by the way he clings to you, holding close, just breathing you in—a scent and comfort that makes his chest flutter.

“Omelette,” you reply, turning your head just enough to catch his eye and press a light kiss to his jaw. “I figured you’d be hungry and want to eat before you left.”

Ideally, he would eat. Usually, he’s dragging himself out of bed closer to noon than early morning, and while his stomach grumbles, the idea of actually eating something this early doesn’t sit right with him.

Still, he presses his mouth to the side of your head, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you,” before slipping his arms from around you and stepping aside.

“Coffee?” he asks, reaching up into the cupboard for his usual mug.

“In the pot. I made some fresh,” you reply with a nod, folding the omelette in half and flipping it completely to finish cooking through.

It all feels so domestic, watching you move around his kitchen. Not that it’s an unfamiliar sight, he’s seen it before, even in your own home, but something about it stirs something deeper in him today. You usually spend your Sunday mornings wrapped up in bed together, dragging out the time before finally rolling out for a slow, lazy lunch—time you both savour, and yet now, watching you like this, he realises he wants more of it. More of this. More of you.

He’s already managed to convince you to take your first vacation together—something real couples do, and most days, he finds himself seesawing between what might be ‘too fast’ and what simply feels right, because with you, even the things that should feel fast don’t. They feel natural. Safe. He’s never experienced anything like it before. Never allowed himself to let his guard down like this, not with anyone else, other than you—you make it easy. You make it feel safe to be known.

“Noah!”

You calling his name snaps him out of his thoughts, pulling him back from wherever he’d drifted. That’s when he notices the coffee spilling over the counter.

“Ah, shit,” he mutters, grabbing a nearby rag to wipe it up. Just as he finishes, a car horn blares from outside, drawing his attention to the front window.

“That’s Jolly—he said he was gonna swing by and grab me,” Noah explains, tossing the now coffee-soaked rag into the sink.

“But… your breakfast?” you ask, your voice small as you hold up the plate, presenting the omelette to him like it’s an award, and in his mind, it is one. The gesture alone makes him regret having to dip out so early.

“You have it,” he says gently. “I’ll be back after lunch—we can go out for something together, yeah?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then slips his fingers beneath your chin to tilt your face up, stealing the many kisses he needs to sustain him while you’re apart. More than food or air, he’d argue—this is what he needs.

Another blare of the horn breaks the moment, and he pulls away with a reluctant groan. “Okay, I gotta go.” And just like that, the three words tumble out—soft, uncalculated, and entirely unintentional:

“I love you.”

It doesn’t hit him right away—what he said or the gravity of it. Not until he’s already in the car.

He doesn’t even know he left you standing there, dumbfounded, the words still swirling in your head. Spoken like a reflex. Like they’d always been sitting there, waiting for the right moment to fall into place.

For the entire duration of his meeting, Noah is unable to focus. His eyes keep flickering to his phone, and the lack of a message from you sends him into a quiet spiral.

Did you hate that he said it? Was it too soon? Had he come on too strong? Did you not feel the same way?

He wouldn’t blame you. It’s a lot—he’s a lot. He knows he can be hard to love. Maybe you haven’t reached that point yet. Maybe you weren’t ready.

Except he has.

He’s been falling for a while now, even if he hadn’t said the words out loud until this morning. He’s felt it in his chest—the way being near you makes him feel both peaceful and fluttery, a quiet storm of butterflies beneath the surface, but it’s the calm that stands out most. The sense of normalcy.

You’ve never asked anything of him. Never expected the version of him that exists onstage, the performer, the persona. You’ve never demanded he be some dancing monkey just to earn your affection. You’ve seen through all of that.

You’ve accepted the softer, less put-together parts of him with a grace that catches him off guard, and more than that, you’ve offered yourself in return. You lean on him when your days are heavy, and he carries that with a quiet pride.

He’s your safe place, the same way you’ve become his.

By the end of the meeting, he’s out like a shot, nerves stretched thin with the need to come home. The silence from you feels too loud now, too heavy. He’s convinced he has gone too far.

Noah even tells Jolly he’ll Uber home—he doesn’t want to waste a single second letting the Swede take him on one of his infamous detours.

When he finally arrives home, he steps through the door tentatively, calling out for you, but there’s no response. A part of him aches, worried that maybe you’d left, but then he sees your shoes still neatly placed by the door, and relief settles in his chest. He takes the stairs two at a time, following the muffled sound of the TV coming from his room.

When he gets there, he opens the door to find you tucked back into his bed, wearing one of his shirts, the soft glow of the TV illuminating your form. One of the anime series you’ve both been watching recently is playing quietly in the background.

As Noah steps into the room, you shift, moving toward him. Your eyes are wide as you settle on your knees near the center of the bed, watching him approach. He walks to the edge and reaches out for you.

“I was worried you’d left,” he confesses, voice soft, his gaze flicking away from yours.

But you reach out and take his hands in yours, gently tugging him closer. His hands are larger, easily enveloping yours, but it’s a comfort to you both, how naturally you fit there, like you belong.

Finally, you take a steady breath and ask, “Did you mean it? What you said?”

And without missing a beat, Noah replies, “Every word.”

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @kenjipepsi1 @birdie-in-arcadia @blackcherrywhiskey @saythatuwill @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @iconic-taurus @flowery-mess @jesuisunchaton @bloody-spades @bluestdai @respectfulrebel @dravenskye

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