lacy1986

[lacy1986]

wolfcut! noah u live in my head RENT FREE

[lacy1986]

Limits // Bad Omens

[lacy1986]

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

[lacy1986]

[lacy1986]

[lacy1986]

with the waves — mini series ✨ | part seven: undertow | words: 2k  | tags: strangers-to-lovers, fast-paced, summer romance, fluff, slight possessive noah, sexual content (p in v protected, tiny bit of dirty talk), angst

 ↝ PART SEVEN: UNDERTOW

Midnight was close. The resort’s hallways were mostly deserted, bathed in the dim glow of sconces casting shadows against the walls. From the bar, the distant murmur of laughter and clinking glasses drifted—guests enjoying the last of their summer. 

Lola walked down the corridor, her sandals whispering against the tiles as she headed for one of the exits leading to the beach. The salt-tinged breeze didn’t seem to leave her skin, not even after countless showers. She didn’t mind it. Quite the opposite, actually. She was thinking about the freedom of being back in the water that night when a hand seized her arm and yanked her back. A gasp caught in her throat, stifled only by a now familiar scent. 

It took less than a second.

Noah. 

He shoved her against the wall, his grip near vice-like, fingers pressing into her flesh. His body pinned hers, leaving only a sliver of space between them, just enough to make her achingly aware of every point of contact. She had dreamt of that body the night before… 

His breath was warm against her face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He hadn’t been part of her plans tonight. He’d been in her thoughts, yes. And she had tried to escape him, obviously failing. That’s why she’d fled her room, why the ocean called to her, promising a respite. 

“To the beach,” she replied, tilting her chin up, defiance in her eyes. “I need a night swim.”

“Care for some company?”

He was teasing her, testing. She needed to leave, now, before the pull grew unbearable. 

“I’d rather be alone.” She twisted in his grasp, but his hands slid to her wrists in an instant, forcing them above her head. The sudden motion knocked the air from her lungs. Her pulse started hammering where his long, tattooed fingers circled her skin. “What are you—?”

He brought his face closer to hers. He smelled delicious. She wanted to lick him.

To suppress those thoughts, those needs, she closed her eyes and tightened her lips, but Noah wouldn’t give her a break.

“You can’t just let me fuck you like that and then avoid me for nearly forty-eight hours,” he said.

The lump in her throat grew tighter. Was she hurting him? Or was he just another spoiled plaything, desperate for another round? Either way, she was already in too deep, so anything that troubled him consequently pained her. Her heart was soft like that, even with the ones that did hurt her.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“No?” His thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist. “Because the way you switched waves every time I got close this morning said otherwise.”

“I was just—” She writhed, but he held firm, his gaze stripping her bare. The way he was looking at her, so deep and so intensely, had her legs shaking. 

“Going with the waves, yeah,” he finished for her.

A charged silence stretched. Noah’s eyes roved over her face, over those sun-kissed and flushed cheeks, the scattering of freckles he was determined to memorize.

“I can count every one of these like this,” he murmured, his breath brushing the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. 

God, the effect his voice had on her… Her breath hitched when he crowded closer. 

She jerked against his hold, only to collide with the solid wall of his chest. His low chuckle vibrated against her, igniting a flare of irritation and… passion. She glared up at him, her lips parting on a sharp retort. 

“Want me to let go?” His smirk was as infuriating as it was perfect. “Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me. Was I really that bad?” 

She clenched her teeth, and the words tore from her. “You weren’t bad. You were the opposite.”

“So, how come you don’t want to talk to me again?”

She held his eye stare, her jaw set, her eyes blazing with something between fury and desire. It was maddening. And the effect it had on her? Noah thought she looked fucking cute. 

She was making him hard. 

“Because I want you.”

Bingo.

She admitted it. Relief spread through Noah’s chest. 

But he wasn’t done yet. 

He tilted his head, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “that doesn’t make much sense, don’t you think? Why avoid me when you want me? How am I supposed to know then that you’re dying to have me inside you again?”

His nose skimmed along her jaw, and she stopped breathing altogether. 

“Are you shy, Lola?”  His voice was so rough with desire. In the distance, the crash of waves was rhythmic, and it reminded her of the way he pounded into her. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting someone makes you hot. Youmake me fucking hot. Can I tell you something? Last night I touched myself to the memory of your moans.”

Those fucking sweet and addictive moans. 

She shuddered, overwhelmed, cheeks flaming. When he loosened his grip on her wrists, she could do nothing but surge forward, arms locking around his neck as she crushed her lips to his. 

“Don’t stop,” she gasped between kisses. “Keep talking.” 

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. His hands slid beneath her t-shirt, fingers branding her waist. 

“I pretended my hand was yours,” he murmured. “I could still feel your fingers wrapped around me, pumping me. I want it again. And then I want your mouth on me, Lola.” 

“I want to,” she breathed.

“You want to? Yeah?”

The tension between them gradually softened, like the tide receding, and eventually, there was only quiet intensity. They stared into each other’s eyes, breaths mingling, his lips brushing hers in a whisper of a kiss. Then, achingly slow, he pressed his mouth to the tip of her nose, lingering before trailing up to her forehead. 

Somewhere below, the ocean sighed against the sand, calling to them. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said.

He took her hand and took her away. 

At that hour, the beach was deserted. In the distance, the faint lights of fishing boats flickered on the dark water. 

Lola walked hand in hand with Noah to the shore, her toes sinking into the cool sand. As the waves lapped at their feet, Noah peeled off his shirt. Before stepping into the water, he turned to Lola.

Is this okay? He was asking her with his eyes. Can I do this with you?

Lola answered by tugging off her t-shirt and sliding her shorts down her tanned legs. 

They dove into the water. 

They swam for a while, moving away from the shore. The only sounds were the gentle splashes of their movements; the only light, the moon’s silver glow.

At some point, their bodies gravitated toward each other, drifting closer until skin brushed skin. When they touched, a breathless silence settled between them. Tender, burning gazes. 

Lola cupped Noah’s cheek, and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her palm. She traced her thumb over his lips, and he caught it lightly between his teeth. 

Minutes later, Noah was hugging Lola, holding her close, arms tight around her as he kissed her. Her fingers traced patterns on his scalp, her heels digging into the small of his back.  

Noah got her out of the water and carried her in his arms, still kissing her, to one of the secluded spots where palm trees formed a natural canopy. He laid her on the sand, one hand firm on her waist as he hovered above her. After a lingering look, he trailed kisses down her neck, then lower to her stomach.  

“I like that,” she admitted shyly, looking down at him, cheeks pink. 

“You do?”

She nodded. 

“Then I’ll make sure to do it more often.” With a smile, he continued his slow exploration, peppering kisses all over her belly for a few more minutes. In that time, he nudged aside the triangles of her bikini top to tease her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. When he sat back on his knees and reached for her bikini bottoms, she shook her head and sat up, urging him toward the trunk of a palm tree. 

Obedient, Noah leaned back against it. 

Lola stood, shedding the last piece of fabric from her body. His eyes raked over her, over the tan lines, the spill of her hair over her breasts. His eyes danced as she stepped out of her bikini. 

He bit his lip, torn between grinning and devouring her on the stop. He didn’t know what to do with himself, what to do to her. He was in love with every part of her, and desperate to touch, nibble, fond, taste each inch again and again.

When she stood bare before him, she waited, watching as he shoved down his shorts, freeing his hardened cock.

Lola stared, tongue darting out to wet her lips. 

“Lola…” he warned. 

“Do you have a condom?”

“Of course.” He reached for the pocket of his discarded shorts. 

“I want to watch you put it on.” 

He arched a brow as he pinched the silver packet between his fingers. “Why?”

Because it turned her on, to watch him prepare to take her, knowing he cared enough to be safe, to keep her safe. 

He took his time rolling it on, looking up at her through hooded eyes and with a teasing smirk that only stoked the heat coiling low in her belly. When his full erection was sheathed in the glove, he offered Lola his hand. 

She took it tentatively. Slowly, she lowered down, first kneeling between his spread legs, then moving each knee to the side of his hips, straddling him. Then, gripping his cock, she guided him to her entrance, rubbing him against her folds before easing the first few inches in. 

 Noah moaned, watching her handle him. It was so hot. 

Before Lola let him fully enter her, Noah met her eyes, and he saw so much beauty and so much need in them that he fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her mouth down to his, kissing her fiercely.

He wanted to say something. So much. Starting with the fact that there was no way he was getting on a plane back to California without her. Or that he would go wherever she went. But instead, when Lola let herself sank onto him, her fingers grabbing the hair at his nape, a pained moan escaping her lips and her forehead pressing to his, words failed him. Instead, he focused on the discomfort of adjusting to him.  

His fingers massaged her scalp while his other hand traced soothing circles down her back. His lips brushed her cheekbone, leaving featherlight kisses in their wake. 

“Second time’s the charm, right?” he murmured, hyperaware of every inch of her as she was of him. “Unless you’re me, surfing. Then it’s more like… sixth try. Minimum.” 

She laughed. It was a strained little sound, but a laugh all the same. Her body relaxed against him, her walls fluttering around his dick. 

It was only an innocent joke, but it steered them away from the conversation they should have had before they lost themselves in each other again.

Surrounded by rustling leaves and the glow of distant stars, neither acknowledged their feelings, or the consequential and imminent disaster. 

A couple of minutes after Noah had finished, he shifted them so that Lola was laying comfortably on the sand, with his body warming her on top. He let her catch her breath as he came down from his own high, forehead on her shoulder, lips touching her clavicle.  

He felt her tense a moment later. Something was going on in her pretty head.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?” She responded, not avoiding his eyes. 

“You here with me?” His thumb brushed her forehead; his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah.” Barely a whisper.

“I thought I’d lost you for a moment.”

“No…” A small shake of her head. “No. I’m here.” She let a hand slid down Noah’s back softly.

He kissed her once. Twice. She responded and some of the tension in his chest eased. 

“Did you like it?” he asked. “I mean, did you like me holding your hands, talking you through it?”

In the middle of it, he had grabbed her hands and pinned her wrists at her back as she rode him, and with every sway of her hips, her nipples grazing his tattoo-covered chest, he’d urged her on, encouraged her to keep doing it, to keep moving so good. She’d been very responsive, so in sync with him. It’d felt like a dream, but it had been better than that. Reality. 

Instead of answering, she batted her lashes and turned the question back on him. “Do you like that? Being the one in control?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he admitted, his grin lopsided. “I think you look really sweet being submissive. It turns me on.”

He stared at her, curious, mesmerized by her, trying to decipher her. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he should stop talking about sex (even though it was exactly what they’d just done) and get to her, ask the right questions. Tell her how he felt. But again—

“Touch my hair?” she asked.

“Like this?” He moved some strands away from her face and tucked them behind her ear.

She nodded, eyes drifting shut as she nestled into the sand. Noah kept stroking her hair. Eventually, he let his weight settle fully over her, enveloping her completely, his bicep pillowing her cheek. His fingers continued their lazy touch, and within minutes, he felt her breathing even out beneath him. 

↠ part eight:

[lacy1986]

omgomg ok so

noah + "come lay your head in my lap" + lullaby

like maybe with reader having a really bad day and they can't sleep because of how miserable they are so noah helps soothe them :( ♡♡

Hi bb, I hope this is something you enjoy, just a little something but Noah is a soft sweetie 🥺💕

“Come lay your head in my lap,” Noah suggests after one look at you standing in the doorway.

You’ve been wandering around the house aimlessly, and your feet naturally lead you to the room he’s currently occupying. He’s tucked away in his office, unwinding with a game before bed, after you’d told him you were heading off early for the night.

You’d spent most of the day withdrawing into yourself, the melancholy sinking in and taking root. You hated feeling like this, when the days stretched just a little too long, and you felt unbearably lonely deep inside your own head, even with Noah within arm’s reach. You thought sleep might help, but instead found yourself struggling. It’s as if your body knew what you needed—who you needed—without you even realizing it.

Noah pushes back from his desk and computer, moving out of his chair and over to the nearby couch against the back wall.

“Come,” he gestures again, and your feet drag you toward him, your hands tugging gently on the sleeves of his hoodie—the one you’d pulled on earlier for warmth and comfort.

When you settle down, he runs a hand along your back before cradling your head, guiding you to lay it gently across his lap. One of his large hands rests atop your arm, squeezing softly, while the other brushes a few strands of hair behind your ear, his fingers tender as they stroke your cheek.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” he asks, his voice playful but sincere.

You tilt your head back slightly, gazing up at him with glassy eyes, and whisper a faint, “Please.”

Noah is more than happy to fulfill your request. His voice is soft and low as he begins to sing—one of his songs, one of your favorites. He pauses now and then just to hum, and you feel his fingers working gently against your scalp, caressing, soothing, threading through your hair with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way.

And it works. Your eyes grow heavy, your breathing softens, and you find yourself drifting off—even if only for a little while. It feels like the first true peace you’ve had all day, a quiet reprieve from the demons clawing at the edges of your mind.

[lacy1986]

a dress, a drink, a kiss

This can basically be read as a stand alone, but some details will be missing. It's set after the main series end, so feel free to read this one shot if you don't want to read the series😊

Pairing: firefighter Noah x female reader

reader has a name (Theresa Monroe, but the story is written in 'your' POV)

Warnings: 18+ / consuming alcohol / being naked / showering together

Words: 5,1k

Author's note: none, I just missed my firefighter boy and pretty girl too much❤️‍🩹

"the fire within" series masterlist

“Where’s my tie?” you hear Noah call from the bedroom and roll your eyes. You asked him yesterday before you went to bed if he had everything ready, so he doesn’t have to find stuff at the last minute.

“I don’t know!” you yell back and continue with curling your hair.

“I swear it was somewhere in this damn closet.” you hear him mumbling under his breath, followed by clothes falling on the floor as he throws them out of the closet with a hope the tie will magically appear under them.

“18th annual Fire Department Ball” is the reason why you two are getting ready. The event starts at 7PM, which means you have to leave at 6:30 the latest, which means Noah has 57 minutes to find his tie.

You ignore him and focus back on yourself in the mirror. Your make up is done, nothing too crazy, just a natural base with bronzer on your cheeks to underline your facial structure, black eyeliner that lays on the glittery eyeshadow you put on and bold red lips that go with the color of your dress.

A dress you wanted to rent just for tonight, but when you put them on at home to show Noah how you look, he made you call the wedding salon to tell them you want to buy them. He bought them, more for him than you. When he saw your body enveloped in the red silky fabric, hugging you in all the right places, pointing out your waist and pushing your boobs together, he wished that you could wear them every day for the rest of your lives.

The high slit in them made it easy for him to make you cum on his fingers in front of the mirror that’s in your bedroom, while whispering “Look at you, falling apart on my fingers in those pretty dress that were made for you.” in your ear.

The dress is now laid on your bed and waiting to be put on, the final piece for your look.

“Tessa I’m serious, I can’t find it.” Noah enters the bathroom and you can see his frustrated face.

“And I’m serious that I don’t know where it is.”

He stops thinking about the tie for a minute and just admires you through the mirror.

He watches as you apply powder on your face, setting everything for the night with it and then you use hairspray to fix your curls, making sure they will last the whole night.

When you realise Noah is still in the bathroom with you, your eyes meet his in the mirror and you can’t help but smile.

He’s half dressed, his pants are on, his shirt too but it’s still unbuttoned so you can see his tattooed chest and he’s looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Let’s find the tie, okay?” you turn the mirror lights off and walk towards him, your hand reaching to cradle his cheek before you bring him down for a kiss.

All the nerves escape his body when your lips touch his, the warmth and sweetness is enough to make him relax.

“Okay.” he says when he pulls away and leads you out of the bathroom.

“Can’t you just wear a different one?” you sigh as you open another drawer just to see socks and some sleeping shirts.

“It’s a fire department event, I have to wear the whole uniform. You should know that.” Noah’s head is deep inside the closet so you barely hear him.

“I know that.” you roll your eyes at the comment. “But we’ve turned our bedroom upside down and it’s not there. Are you sure you left it here?”

“Yes. I brought the whole uniform from the dry cleaning shop two days ago, I left it on the couch for a day and then I put it in the closet.” he goes over every step since he brought the formal uniform home.

“Have you looked around the couch?”

“No, I brought it here.”

“Noah, I swear to God.” you get up and make your way to the living room, determined that the tie is there.

When you reach the couch, you look behind the cushions and the sitting part of the couch, nothing. You get down on your knees to look under the piece of furniture and there it lays, black tie with the fire department’s logo on it.

“Found it!” you yell and reach your hand for it.

“Really?” Noah comes running to the living room. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Hurry up.” you throw the tie at him and go back to getting yourself ready.

He goes back to the bedroom to finish dressing up and you grab all the things you need for a night out and put them in your small purse.

Tickets. Lipstick. Powder. Keys. Phone. Small bottle of perfume.

You run over the list in your head when you hear Noah’s voice from the bedroom again “Can you come here?”

Without answering you leave the things behind and start walking towards the room, not sure what to expect anymore, what has he lost again.

“Yeah?” you lean against the door and watch him. He’s standing in front of the mirror, looking like he’s having a fight with the tie.

“Can you help me?” he looks at you with puppy eyes.

“You don’t know how to do it?”

“I haven’t worn one in a while.”

“You’re cute.” you push yourself from the door and walk over to him.

You lift the collar of his white shirt and adjust the black tie around his neck. You focus your eyes on the accessory, tightening it in place, while he’s looking down at you.

“Isn’t it too tight?” your voice pulls him out of the trance and he looks down.

“That’s perfect.” you make sure the tie is set and then put the collar back down before running your hands down his shoulders and arms.

Before you can pull away he catches your hands with his and pulls you even closer.

“You’re beautiful.” he whispers in your ear before planting a kiss next to it.

“I’m still in my pajamas.” you laugh and look down at your outfit made of Noah’s tshirt and sleeping shorts.

“You’re the most beautiful in your pajamas.” you feel his little smirk against your temple.

“Thank you.” you pull away so you could see his face and stand on your tippy toes to kiss his nose. “Will you help me with the dress please?”

“Oh, of course.” his smirk grows at the thought of what’s coming.

First you take off your shorts and throw them on the bed while Noah is gathering all of the red fabric like you showed him many times, so he can just throw it over your head.

You take off his shirt and see him with the dress ready, his eyes running over your body, stopping at your bare chest.

“Earth to Noah.” you laugh and cover your boobs with your hands.

“Sorry, you’re very easy to be distracted with.” he walks closer to you and lifts his arms over your head. He waits until you get inside the dress and put your hands up, which is a sign for him to let the dress slowly down your body until he sees your head again and you can hold the dress yourself.

You adjust your boobs so they sit nicely in the neckline before turning around so Noah could zip them.

You feel his touch on your back, his fingers caressing your skin and then you feel his lips, kissing all the way from your shoulder blades to the back of your neck.

He then zips them up and his hands slide down around you and meet on your waist.

“My pretty girl.” he whispers against your neck, making you shiver. Both from his words and his breath on your skin.

You turn your head to get a glance of him, kissing the side of his face and giving him one of your prettiest smiles.

“We need to leave.” you whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment, but you’re running out of time.

“Let’s go.” he kisses your neck one last time before he pulls away and spins you around. Leaving your hand in his, he leads you through the halls of your apartment to the living room.

You check if you have everything once more while Noah puts on his jacket.

He’s fixing his outfit in the mirror by the door and you watch him. His brows are furrowed, focusing on smoothing down any wrinkles on his formal uniform. The badge, his pins, his rank and his name are on the front, making you insanely proud and attracted at the same time.

He runs his hand through his hair and then turns around.

“You’re staring.” he chuckles when he sees your cheeks turn red and your head instinctively lean down.

“Do you have your ticket?” you try to change the subject, feeling warm from being caught.

“Baby I know you have my ticket.” he chuckles again, happy that he still has this effect on you.

“Whatever, let’s go.” you have a shy smile on your face after he pokes your side and takes your purse from your hands so you can put your heels on.

“You’re late.” Nick says when he sees you two run through the door.

“He couldn’t find his tie.” you point to Noah while trying to catch your breath.

“Well hurry up, it’s starting in 5 minutes.” he motioned for you to follow him to your table.

You haven’t seen the guys for a while, your new job keeping you busy enough and the kids draining your energy that you never made it to their bar trips.

You followed Nick and Noah was close behind you, his hand on the small of your back.

You entered the main room and followed Nick who led you to your table.

The room was big and full of people. There were men and women in their formal uniforms, wearing it proudly. Some women went with dress gowns, if you were still working for the fire department you would probably have a hard time deciding what to wear. But since you left, you were not entitled to wear a badge, or anything with the fire department on you.

Table 16, your table, is already full of people, the guys and their girlfriends or wives having a chat and drinks. Only two chairs are still empty, waiting for you and Noah.

“Hi everyone!” you greet everyone, excited to see some of them after a very long time. You get hugs and cheek kisses in return, everyone is excited just as much as you.

Just as Noah helps you sit down the ceremony starts. The lights get dimmed and the band starts playing a song to get everyone’s attention. It’s short, more of just a melody than a song really. After it ends the chief of the Fire Department comes on the stage with applause from the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me welcome you to the 18th annual Fire Department Ball.” your eyes scan the whole room again, not really listening to the uninteresting welcoming speech.

Your eyes catch Noah and Nick whispering something, it made Noah laugh and you could see his lovely smile that also lightened up his eyes.

You were happy to see him like that, the last few shifts were hard on him and he needed a distraction.

Then you looked over the tables around you, seeing some unfamiliar faces, but also people you had a chance to work with from different stations. Some nodded your head when they saw you, some waved at you.

The room was decorated with a few signs with the “18th ANNUAL FIRE DEPARTMENT BALL” logos. Every table had two champagne bottles and glasses in the middle, some papers for games, info about the raffle or the programme.

There was a bar for the drinks and then a section with food right next to it.

In the middle of the room was a big dancefloor, empty now, but you know firefighters know how to have fun, so soon it will be full.

The stage was small, but enough for the band of 4 people and the chief giving the speech.

“I hope you enjoy the programme, have a great night!” the speech ended and applause erupted again.

“Wine?” Noah’s voice interrupted your observation and you turned your head towards him.

“Huh?”

“Do you want wine? Or something else?” he repeats his question, knowing well that the answer is going to be wine.

“Wine please.” he leans down to kiss your forehead before he and Nick get up and make their way to the bar area.

“How have you been?” Jolly who’s sitting on your left asks.

“Great actually. Working with kids is hard, but it’s also fun. They’re really funny you wouldn’t believe.” you reply and scan over his appearance. He’s wearing a matching uniform as every guy at the table and his hair is pulled back in a low bun. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you guys in ages.”

“We’re fine, the same old shit.” he says and laughs. “Nothing changed since you left, pretty sure Noah tells you about the gossip.” you laugh at that and think of your night kitchen meetings with Noah. Usually one of you is preparing dinner and you’re both chatting about your days, you gossip about the kids and Noah about his colleagues.

Speaking of Noah, you see a glass of wine placed in front of you, followed by the same hand resting on your thigh.

“Thank you.” you whisper to him and he just squeezes your thigh.

You chat with the rest of the guys, waiting for the main event of the night which is award presenting. That counts as the end of the formal part of the night, meaning that everyone gets wasted after.

Some people are on the dancefloor, but most stay at their tables or stand on the sideline, chatting with others.

Noah’s hand never leaves your thigh, he slipped under the slit of your dress and his fingers trace random patterns on your skin.

His touch is soft, grounding you in the moment.

Before Jolly can tell you the details of his last hook up, the chief enters the stage again and starts the awards presentation.

There are medails in red boxes behind him, ready to be handed out to those who deserve them.

You knew this was part of the night, it always is, but until this year you never thought much of it, you were never the one to receive it.

But a few days ago you started thinking about that call, about the firefighters who lost their lives and how that’s always mentioned, someone from their family gets a medal for them, for their duty.

You were scared to bring it up to Noah, what his reaction would be.

You watched firefighters go and shake hands with the chief, then smiling for the camera and saying thank you to the applauding audience.

“And now, on events like this we can’t forget about the firefighters who lost their lives while trying to save someone else. We lost too many of our own this year and they shall never be forgotten. Please let me read their names and then let’s take a minute of silence.”

You noticed Noah shifting in his seat, looking around the room, trying to focus on something else. It was your turn to put your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze to tell him that you’re by his side, that you have him.

His fingers find yours, his palm a bit sweaty, but you don’t mind.

“Their bravery will never be forgotten, and their legacy will live on in the hearts of their family, their fellow firefighters, and the community they served.” the chief starts reading their names and you see each name being followed by someone standing up and walking to get the medal.

Some of them are parents, siblings, kids, but what breaks your heart is when you see a partner get up there with tears in their eyes.

You don’t want your head to go there, but you immediately think of how you never want to receive this kind of medal. You never want to hold a minute of silence for your firefighter.

You squeeze Noah’s hand which earns you a look from him. His eyes immediately soften, because he knows what’s going on in your head.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here okay? I’m not going anywhere.” he whispers in your ear and then kisses your temple.

You’re mad at yourself. He shouldn’t have to comfort you after hearing the names of his colleagues, seeing their family receive a medal.

But you’re relieved that you’re the one handling the situation worse, you were scared he’s going to feel anxiety and that his memories will come back. You’d take all the pain for him every day.

The awards presentation ends with standing ovation for all awarded and then it’s unofficially the time for the party to begin.

It starts with the first round of shots and bets who’s going to end up with the worst hangover tomorrow.

Conversation is flowing, jackets are thrown over the chairs, people are dancing and everyone is having a good time.

“Hey pretty girl, will you dance with me?” you’re standing by the bar with Nick when Noah’s hands sneak around your waist and he once again whispers in your ear.

Nick just rolls his eyes and leaves, knowing that he doesn’t need to see you two being a sweet couple in love.

“Hey.” you turn around to face him. He doesn’t have his jacket on anymore, his cheeks are a bit red from the alcohol and his hair is messy. “Of course.”

So he leads you on the dancefloor, finding a spot for you before he spins you around and then pulls you close to him.

It’s a slow song, you put your arms around Noah’s shoulders and lean your head on his chest. His chin rests on the top of your hair and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You sway from side to side, getting lost in the melody of the song. Noah doesn’t have to lead you, you follow each other.

You don’t know the song, but Noah starts humming the melody, making you close your eyes and leave out the people around you.

“You okay?” Noah asks.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you lift your head to look up at him.

“I saw you during the awards.” his eyebrows are furrowed with worry when he says that.

“I know, I was just thinking about what ifs.” you admit.

“I know you were, let’s make your pretty mind think about something else, yeah?”

Before you change the subject you have to ask him too. “And you? Are you okay?”

“I am, don’t worry.” he says and sees your sceptical look, so he adds “I promise.” with a chuckle, which makes you crack a smile too and believe that he’s being honest with you.

You focus on his hands on you, holding you as if you were about to run away. He always holds you like that. His grip is firm, but soft at the same time. Your fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck, slightly massaging his skin.

You sway like that until the song ends, but Noah has no plans leaving the dancefloor yet. The next song is quick, Noah doesn’t really know what to do, but he just goes with the vibe and starts spinning you around and doing weird dance moves that you find funny.

Soon the rest of your table joins you and next thing you know, Nick and Jolly are having a dance battle.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, but that woman is touching Noah’s arm for too long.

You watch them closely from your place. Noah went to get you a new drink, but got stopped by the bar by a woman in a blue dress with a too deep neckline for your liking.

She grabbed his bicep to stop him from walking away, you could read excited “Noah!” from her lips, she must know him.

He stayed for a chat, your drink still in his hand.

He was holding the space between them, funnily stepping back every time she got closer to him. But that didn’t stop her from touching his forearm, his bicep, running her fingers over his badges.

“How does she not feel you killing her with your eyes?” Nick leans closer to you to watch Noah and the woman too.

“Shut up, she’s touching him.”

You see Noah being uncomfortable and he’s not doing anything wrong, he would never, but you know what she sees in him. He’s handsome, he saves lives and he’s too nice to cut the conversation off.

“I see.” he nods and keeps staring with you. “Should I go and save him?”

“Yeah, tell him his girlfriend is waiting for her drink.” just as Nick gets ready to get up and walk to where Noah and her are standing, you two see Noah politely nod his head before he leaves the bar and starts walking back to the table.

“Sorry, I met a girl from the academy.” he sits down in his chair. “And she talked my head off.”

He slides the glass of wine in front of you and you see the woman still looking at him.

Jealousy takes over you and you grab him by his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. Not a peck, a quick thank you kiss, you hold him for a good 30 seconds before you pull away. You grab his chin and use our fingers to wipe off your lipstick and just give him an innocent smile.

“Thank you.” you lift your glass and take a sip.

Since then, it’s only more wine, more dancing and more laughter.

“I think it’s time to leave, pretty girl.” Noah says when he catches you stumbling from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’re right.” you grab his arms to steady yourself.

He just chuckles and grabs your waist to lead you to the main room so you can say your goodbyes.

Jolly, who’s been your drinking buddy the whole night, is very sad, mumbling something about betrayal. Everyone else says goodbye or either leaves with you.

In front of the building Noah sits you down on a bench with “Give me a minute, I’ll call a cab.”

“No!” you yell. “I’m going to be sick in a cab, I wanna walk.” your lips turn into a pout.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“But our place is nowhere close, baby.”

“Give me a short walk and then we can call the cab. Deal?” you stick out your hand for Noah to shake.

“Deal.” he laughs and helps you stand up.

“Do you want my jacket? Are you cold?” he looks at your bare shoulders and arms when he feels the light breeze on his own skin.

“Nah, the alcohol is keeping me warm.” you say like it's an obvious fact.

“Oh God.” he just laughs and prepares himself for the walk.

You don’t shut your mouth for even a second, you keep talking about anything and everything. You managed to do a fashion police for a few people from the ball, then you told him about the new playground you have at school for kids, because you passed one on the street. Then you managed to question people's choices for the houses you passed and Noah just agreed with everything you said, realising soon enough that arguing with your drunk self was pointless.

“I didn’t like how that woman was touching you.” you mumble, but enough for him to hear.

“You mean Sofia?” he chuckles.

“I don’t care what her name is, but she was touching this,” you stop and wrap your arm around his. “for way too long. It’s mine.”

“It is, don’t worry. I’m all your pretty girl.” that makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, he always knows what words to use with you.

“My feet hurt.” you say with a pout after a while of silence and as the alcohol slowly leaves your body, the pain from the heels makes itself more noticeable. “I wanna take them off.”

“You can’t walk bare feet baby.” Noah is gentle parenting you at this point.

“Pleaseee, I need them off.”

“Then let’s take a cab, so you don’t have to walk at all.”

“But I like it, it’s like a romantic midnight walk.” you throw your head back to look at the stars.

“Sure.” he just accepts his fate and gets on his knees in front of you.

He grabs your hands and puts them on his shoulders and tells you to hold onto him. Then he pulls one of your feet on his knee and starts undoing your heel. His fingers brush your skin, his movements are slow and delicate, careful not to break the shoe or make you fall.

“Other one.” he lifts your other leg and does the same. Meanwhile he’s taking the shoes off for you, you keep staring down at him.

He’s always careful with his touch, aware of his strength. He takes the other shoes off and plants a small kiss to your knee before he looks up at you.

In that moment he feels nothing but love, you’re looking at him with a small smile, your hands still on his shoulders.

“What?” he asks.

“I like you on your knees for me.” you whisper.

“Only for you.” he whispers back and kisses the exposed skin of your thigh before he gets back up. “Walk on the grass.”

So you start walking hand in hand, in silence, because the intimate moment made you sober up a bit.

Noah swings your shoes in his hand, checking your arms for any signs of you feeling cold every other second.

He notices how your eyes got a bit tired, your walk slowed down.

Without saying anything he stops walking and squats in front of you and before you know it, he’s hoisting you up on his shoulders.

“Noah!” you squeal and grab on his waist.

“You were falling asleep mid walk.” he manages to shrug his shoulders with you on them, your shoes still in his hand.

“I wasn’t!” you were and you knew it.

“Stop complaining, you can just chill now.”

“Put me down, you can call a cab now.” you patted his ass when he didn’t listen and continued walking.

“You wanted to have a romantic walk.” that makes you roll your eyes.

“And if I tell you that being upside down is going to make me sick soon?”

“You’re just saying that so I put you down.” you wanted to laugh, but he was wrong. His shoulder pushing into your tummy made you feel uneasy, combined with feeling every one of Noah’s steps wasn’t ideal.

“I’m not Noah, put me down please.”

“Oh.” he heard the tone of your voice and realised you weren’t joking. He slowly got on his knees and helped you stand up. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he grabbed your face and analysed every part of it.

“I’m fine, I was just getting a bit sick.” you appreciated the light breeze on your skin, making you feel better immediately. “But can we call the cab now?”

“Of course.” before he dialed the number he took his jacket off and put it over your shoulders. You not protesting only reassured him that you were ready for the bed.

“Close your eyes for me.” Noah’s fingers touch your chin and slightly tilt your head back so he has a better view of your whole face. His other hand holds the cotton pad with a makeup remover.

You do as he says, enjoying being taken care of.

He gently swipes the white pad over your face, taking off your makeup. He needs to change the pads a few times before he’s satisfied with the result.

“And done.” you open your eyes to the cutest sight ever. He’s standing in front of you with a proud smile on his face, his tie is thrown around his neck and his shirt has the top buttons unbuttoned.

“You’re cute.” you poke his nose with your finger and he’s quick to catch your hand and put it on his cheek. He leans into your touch and you two just look at each other, your eyes speaking for you both, no words are needed.

“Let’s take a quick shower and then get you to bed.” Noah starts unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, throwing it in the laundry basket and then doing the same with his pants. You watch as he takes off his socks and then underwear, completely bare in front of you. It’s not sexual, it’s raw and intimate.

“Arms up.” he says and you lift your arms so he can get you out of the dress. It takes a while, but soon enough you’re free and he hangs the dress on the door.

When he comes back he kneels in front of you again and takes off your panties, leaving kisses on your hips and thighs.

When the water hits your skin, perfectly warm to relax your muscles, you let out a groan of satisfaction.

Noah knows by the look on your face that you’re getting more and more tired, so he’s quick with washing your body, giving your feet a quick massage and then washes himself.

“Kiss.” you mumble and make grabby hands.

Noah’s hands find your neck and pull you closer. It’s the first proper kiss of the night. Tongues fighting for dominance, biting each other’s lips and Noah adding just a tiny bit of pressure to your neck.

But just like moments before, it’s not sexual, it’s emotional, it’s speaking your feelings through the kiss.

You pull away first to catch your breath and Noah leans his forehead against yours, gently tracing his nose along yours.

“Drink.” you sit on the edge of the bed with Noah standing in front of you, holding a big glass of water for you.

You do as he says, because you know you’d regret it if you didn’t.

“I’ll refill it and be right back.” you let him leave the bedroom and get comfy in the bed.

You close your eyes when you finally find a comfortable position and feel the bed dip next to you a few moments after.

Then you feel two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you close to the familiar chest.

“Good night, pretty girl.” Noah whispers against your forehead and plants a few kisses there.

“Good night Noah, thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always.”

That’s a promise, something that doesn’t have to be said out loud because you know he will.

dividers by silent-stories

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

taglist: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @super-btstrash-posts @amelia-acero @justcarrie @koskeepsake @dominuslunae @ami--gami @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @lilcrazy011 @pipidoll @geminigirlfromfinland @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans @blvckmvgicwoman @punkprincess1999 @fear-its-beauty @bloody-spades @n0n3xsisting @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @athenexe @tashka @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @concrtlimits @whatismylifexox @theanarchymuse95 @renegadebirch @theasowle @darknightstarryeyes @montgomery-929496 @kenjipepsi1 @concreteangel92

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[lacy1986]

reblog if you have skilled writer friends and you're damn proud of them

[lacy1986]

Backstage FaceTime

Noah Sebastian x Reader.

Just a lil something, sorry for not posting much. I’ve got a new job and adjusting to it, but I will be posting more regularly don’t worry.

You knew from the moment you woke up with tummy cramps that today would be one of those days. Noah was away playing at some Summer festivals, which didn’t help your situation. You went to the bathroom to sort yourself out, luckily you didn’t make a mess as you caught it in time.

You just wanted your man.

A couple of hours later, you found yourself on the couch watching some movie when suddenly your phone rang on FaceTime. You knew who it was and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, babe.” You answered, looking at the screen at him.

“Hey, angel. I’m sorry I’m not here to help you.” Noah said, frowning slightly. The background noise was muffled but you can tell that he was backstage somewhere at the festival.

“Noah, it’s okay, ice cream has been my saviour and this lil guy too.” You chuckled, showing him the bat squishmallow he gave you.

Noah smiled at the sight, it was adorable seeing you cuddle it. But he wish it was him instead. He wanted to take away the pain as he knew that you suffered from painful periods.

“Good, cos someone’s gotta look after my angel.” Noah said, making you giggle at his words.

“You always look after me, even if you’re not physically here.” You told him, as it was true. Noah was such a caring and loving boyfriend even if he’s away a lot, he always made you feel so so loved.

“I better get going soon, but expect a lil something in the mail tomorrow.” Noah told you, which made you raise an eyebrow up at his words.

“Oh really now?” You said, wondering what he could possibly get you.

“Yes, I love you so much. I’ll message you as soon as I can.” Noah promised down the phone, the noise was getting louder and you could hear the fans in the background.

“I love you too, now break a leg my rockstar.” You smirked, making him chuckle and blow a kiss.

Even though your stomach was cramping, you felt better talking to your man. It was only a week and you’ll have him back at home and you couldn’t wait.

[lacy1986]

Wow 😧😵‍💫

A little birdie (cough cough @tosoundlessdarkistare ) told me that June 21st is National Armpit Day.

You read that right. National. Armpit. Day.

@overmydeadbodysblog we have a day.

Have some GIFts from us to you.

@xmads-omensx @heyyoplayer @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @dontwantthemoney @klutzy-kay24 @blade-dressed-in-red @shayeanna-ashlie

[lacy1986]

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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[lacy1986]

Chapter Three

Paring: Noah x Fem reader

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

MasterList

Tag List: @dominuslunae

Light presses against your eyelids, soft and persistent. The warmth of the bed lingers, but something unsettles you, an uncomfortable awareness that you're not alone. You crack your eyes open and immediately regret it, groaning as the light stabs at them. There's shuffling somewhere in the room, and the bed dips beside you. A moment later, a hand brushes against your skin, gently moving the hair from your face.

You slightly flinch from the touch, a reflex triggered by the sharp ache in the side of your face.

“Sorry,” a voice murmurs, soft and familiar. Noah.

Then silence.

You keep your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, but you can feel the tension in the room like static. The mattress dips a little more as he shifts, unsure, and the scent of sandalwood and amber swirls closer.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds, quieter this time. “Are you… Okay?”

You groan again and finally open your eyes, blinking against the brightness until your vision clears. Noah’s face hovers just above, his eyes locking with yours. There’s concern etched into every line of his expression: quiet, genuine, unfiltered. It tugs at something inside you.

“My head hurts,” you mumble, your voice hoarse and raw.

Noah exhales softly, a sigh laced with worry, and reaches out. His fingers brush your cheek. The touch is light, but it still makes you wince.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, pulling his hand back. “You’ve got a huge bruise on your cheek, Morrigan.” His brow furrows. “What happened?”

He hesitates, then adds, “I got worried. After the set, I couldn’t find you. I came in here to grab my phone and… you were just passed out. In my bed. I didn’t know what the hell happened.”

You slowly sit up, your body protesting every movement, and glance around the room. You hadn’t realized where you were when you stumbled in earlier, but now it’s unmistakable. This is Noah’s room.

Soft blue LED lights trace the corners of the ceiling, casting a calming glow over the walls. Posters of anime characters- Naruto, Luffy, and a few others you vaguely recognize are carefully arranged like a gallery of chaotic energy and childhood nostalgia.

A sleek PC setup hums quietly in the far corner, with glowing keyboard lights and headphones hanging neatly from the monitor. The desk is cluttered but intentional, with figures, energy drink cans, and a few notebooks scattered. It’s messy in a lived-in kind of way. It's warm, personal, and unmistakably his.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your voice a little shaky. You’re not used to this kind of attention.

“Things got a little crazy last night, and I felt a panic attack coming on. While I was trying to push my way through the crowd, someone shoved me into one of the concrete support pillars. I hit my head, hard.”

You pause, then glance at him, the guilt starting to creep in.

“I’m also sorry for being in your room. I remember barely making it up the stairs and falling into the first room I could find. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just needed to get away from everything.”

Noah quietly gets up from the bed, his movements calm but purposeful. He crosses the room to the mini fridge tucked beneath his PC setup and pulls out a small ice pack. Wordlessly, he walks back and hands it to you with a faint smile, gentle, almost apologetic.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Morrigan,” he says softly, sitting beside you again. “If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Things got way too out of hand last night. I wasn’t paying enough attention to what was happening around us, I got too caught up in the set, which was careless.”

He pauses, watching you for a beat. “And I’m happy you ended up in here. Don’t feel bad about that. I’d rather you crash in my room than be passed out out there, surrounded by a bunch of random drunks. You were safe here.”

Your heart flutters unexpectedly, and there is a soft tremor in your chest. You can feel the warmth rising to your cheeks. Embarrassed, you quickly press the ice pack to your face to hide the blush more than to soothe the bruise. You silently pray he doesn’t notice. 

You shift, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to sit beside him. Lying there any longer felt a little too vulnerable, a little too intimate. Noah glances at you again, concern still clouding his expression. He clears his throat, the sound awkward and a bit too loud in the quiet room, and starts bouncing his leg, nervous energy leaking out.

“Let me grab you some water and painkillers,” he says quickly, already halfway to the door, nearly stumbling in his hurry to be helpful.

A few minutes later, Noah returns, his arms full like he raided a survival kit. He offers you a glass of water first, then sets a bottle of ibuprofen beside you on the bed. Without a word, he gently places a large ice pack on top of your head, the chill startling against your scalp.

“I figured your brain could use a little cooling off, too,” he mumbles with a small, sheepish smile.

Then he holds out a couple of granola bars like a peace offering. “I didn’t know what you liked, so... options.”

You take the granola bars with a quiet “Thanks,” setting one in your lap while opening the water. There’s a beat of silence between you, comfortable, but still a little heavy.

Noah lowers back onto the bed beside you, his knee brushing yours. He rubs the back of his neck, eyes cast down.

“I really should’ve been paying more attention last night,” he says, voice low. “I should’ve noticed something was wrong.”

You glance at him, then arch a brow. “Next time I’m having a meltdown in the middle of a crowd, I’ll just chuck a roll of film at your head. That oughta get your attention.”

Noah lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Okay, fair warning, if you actually throw a roll of film at me, I’m keeping it.”

He gives you a sideways glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Especially if it’s one of those cool black-and-white ones.”

You shake your head, amused, and nibble on the granola bar. The silence that follows is easier this time, warm, not heavy.

Noah leans back on his hands, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “Hey… you don’t have to rush out or anything. You can hang out here for a while, if you want.”

He nods toward the PC and his speaker setup. “We could take turns playing music or something. Just chill. Unless you’d rather sleep.”

You glance over at him, surprised by the offer, but touched. “Yeah… I think I’d like that,” you say, settling more comfortably on the edge of the bed.

Noah perks up slightly and gets to his feet. “Cool. Hang tight.” He crosses the room and rummages around for a minute before returning with an acoustic guitar, smooth and well-worn wood.

“You better not play Wonderwall,” you tease, earning a laugh from him.

He lightly strums the guitar, testing a few chords before settling on a melody. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and sings softly.

“Show me you're better off without me. Choking on every word you said, we'll see, we'll see. Don't breathe another word about me. I'll leave, and you can finally rest in peace, We'll see.”

As he sings, you close your eyes and smile, letting his voice wash over you as you gently sway to the melody. You begin to hum along, the tune familiar from the night before when he first sang it.

“Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never knowing Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know.”

You slowly open your eyes to find Noah watching you. Your cheeks grow warm, and you quickly look away with a shy smile.

As he finishes the song, you clap softly to show your appreciation.

“You’re so talented, Noah,” you say, smiling bashfully.

“Thank you… Do you want to sing next?”

You glance at him, cheeks still flushed, and clear your throat.

“I won’t sound nearly as beautiful as you do, but… sure.”

Nervously, you take the guitar from him and slip the strap over your shoulder. It’s been a while since you last played, so it’s safe to say you’re a little rusty. You scroll through your phone, searching for a song to play. After a minute, you settle on Let Down by Radiohead. You take a deep breath and start to strum. 

“Transport, motorways and tramlines. Starting and then stopping. Taking off and landing. The emptiest of feelings, disappointed people clinging onto bottles when it comes, it's so, so disappointing.” 

As you sing and strum the guitar, your eyes stay fixed on your lap, afraid that looking up might shake your focus. Your fingers stumble slightly over a chord, but you keep going, determined not to let nerves get the best of you. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself, especially not in front of someone like Noah.

“One day, I am gonna grow wings. A chemical reaction. Hysterical and useless. Hysterical and…”

As you’re singing, you suddenly feel his finger beneath your chin. Gently, he lifts your gaze to meet his, silently encouraging you to look at him. Neither of you can look away. When the song ends, a heavy silence settles between you, wrapping the two of you in a quiet, lingering trance.

“You’re beautiful,” Noah whispers.

He gently moves his hand from your chin to your cheek, caressing it softly. Slowly, you both lean in, inching closer. You can feel his breath against your lips, and you close your eyes. Just as you’re about to kiss, a sharp knock on the door startles you both, making you jump apart. 

Noah quickly rises and opens the door, revealing Jolly. Jolly glances past Noah and gives you a slight wave before returning his attention back to him.

“Hey, I think Morrigan’s grandmother is here… and she’s angry, which is terrifying.”

You cover your face and groan. Quickly, you slip off the guitar strap and walk past the boys, muttering a soft apology. Once downstairs, you see your grandmother reprimanding the few stragglers about how the place looks and smells, prompting them to start cleaning everything up.

“Grandma, what are you doing here?” You asked.

She turns to you and shoots you a sharp glare. Your breath catches in your throat as you brace yourself for the full force of her wrath, but then her eyes shift past you. You glance over your shoulder and realize Jolly and Noah have followed you downstairs.

“Morrigan, it’s time to go. You have a lot to explain when we get home,” she says sharply, her tone cutting through the room.

She stomps toward you, grabs your hand, and pulls you toward the door. As you’re dragged out of the house, you glance back, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Noah catches your eye and gives a slight nod, signaling that he’ll call you later.

[lacy1986]

Noah in love, inspired by this

From time to time, Noah catches himself wondering: is it supposed to be this easy—loving someone?

He’s familiar with the way romance is portrayed in movies, how it’s filled with drama—endless fighting, burning passion, bloodshed, life or death stakes, heartbreak, and the grand confession that comes just after the third act, leading into the happily ever after.

The older generations bemoan the younger’s lack of effort, insisting that love requires sacrifice and struggle, and perhaps it does, but maybe compromise isn’t as dirty a word as they make it out to be.

There are days he sits waiting for the other shoe to drop—for a fight to erupt over something he forgot, or for you to grow tired of habits he isn’t even aware of. It’s a feeling he knows all too well.

He has a bad habit of isolating himself, going days without checking in because he’s too hyper focused, not because he doesn’t care. Sometimes, he just needs the nudge, the reminder that you’re there, that you see him.

He braces himself for the fallout, like the quiet before the storm, but you’re not like that. You never have been. He understands now that you’ve always loved him for exactly who, and how, he is.

You love him in all the ways he’s always wanted to be, and he loves you just the same. You make him feel safe, wanted, and most importantly, loved.

[lacy1986]

The Hades Problem (and other ways he loves her)

noah x alice part of the wonderland series in collaboration with @concretejunglefm .

Masterlist

Dividers: silent-stories

CW: mental health, bpd/adhd, depression, medication talk. playful jealousy.

AN: slight inaccuracies of how dreamlight is played but it makes sense for the story, i promise.

taglist: @dsireland86 @dragoncopper @lacy1986 @1toreyouapart @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @dream-machine-love @saythatuwill @xmads-omensx @chey-h @floodflameschosen @ichoosetenderomens @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @oobleoob @rumoured-whispers @mrscevans @renegadebirch .. if you’d like added or removed let me know

He sees the cracks she hides; she feels the storms he can’t silence—and somewhere in the wreckage, they fall in love

The apartment was quiet in that strange way mornings get when the rest of the world expects you to be somewhere else.

Noah sat at the kitchen counter, thumb resting on the edge of his coffee cup, laptop open in front of him—untouched. Emails blinked from the screen like small demands: meetings, press requests, tour logistics. All the usual noise. But the only thing his eyes kept flicking to was the closed bedroom door down the hall.

Alice was still asleep.

Or at least, she hadn’t stirred.

He’d woken up to the absence of her.

Which meant she was still there—just… not really there.

And he knew the signs.

She hadn’t answered when he rolled over and whispered good morning. Hadn’t mumbled anything when he kissed her temple or nudged the blanket down to brush his knuckles along her arm. Her breathing had stayed steady. Her body hadn’t shifted. But it wasn’t rest—it was withdrawal. The kind of quiet she wrapped around herself when her mind had turned against her.

Noah had spent long enough learning the difference.

She wasn’t okay.

And she wasn’t going to tell him unless he asked.

So he didn’t ask.

He made a choice.

Noah picked up his phone and texted the group chat.

Noah: Hey—can someone cover the 1pm call w/ the label? I’m not gonna make it today. Something came up. Jolly: You ok? Nick R: I got you. You want me to lie or be vague? Noah: Vague is fine. Just… something at home.

There was a pause. Then–

Folio: Tell Alice we love her. And you. And you’re doing the right thing.

Noah exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening just slightly.

He set the phone down.

Then he started building a fort.

It took about thirty minutes and more pillows than was probably necessary.

But by the time the living room was transformed—couch cushions stacked like a castle wall, blankets strung between chairs and coat hooks, fairy lights blinking overhead like tiny stars—Noah finally stood back and smiled.

In the center of the blanket fort sat a nest of duvets, a tray with two mugs of tea, a plate of toaster waffles, and the Nintendo Switch already docked, Dreamlight Valley loaded and waiting.

He knew Alice had a thing for the small worlds she could control.

Especially on the days when her own felt unsteady.

And right now, she didn’t need motivation. Or positivity. Or some bullshit “you got this” speech.

She needed soft.

So he was going to give her soft.

He turned down the lights, turned up the fairy lights, and went back to the bedroom.

Noah nudged the door open quietly.

Alice was still curled under the duvet, turned toward the wall, her hand fisted loosely beneath her pillow. One leg was kicked out like she’d half-abandoned the need for structure. Her hair was a tangle around her face, green tips dulled, cheek smushed sleepily into the sheets.

“Hey,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She didn’t open her eyes. But he saw the slight twitch in her brows. The soft crease of emotion just under her expression.

“You don’t have to talk,” he said. “I just wanted you to know I’m not going anywhere today. It’s a fort day.”

Her eyes opened at that—barely.

“Fort?” she rasped.

He smiled. “Living room. Waffles. Blankets. Dreamlight Valley. Your entire village’s been asking for you.”

She blinked, slowly, like she was recalibrating the whole day from scratch.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you’re allowed to have days where the weight’s too heavy,” he said. “And I’d rather be here holding some of it with you.”

Her lip wobbled.

Then she sat up—slowly, like moving through molasses—and leaned into his shoulder without a word.

It took a while for her to fully emerge.

Noah gave her space.

He made another cup of tea. Changed into a hoodie. Lit a candle she liked—lavender and old books. He pretended to be deep in choosing a Dreamlight Valley outfit for his character until she finally shuffled out, wrapped in a blanket like a sleepy burrito, eyes still downcast.

She crawled into the fort and tucked herself beside him.

And for a while, that was all.

They didn’t talk much.

He passed her a controller. Let her tend her pumpkin patch while he fished with Goofy. Occasionally he’d hear her hum under her breath, or swear when Ursula stole her fishing spot. And every now and then, her knee would press lightly into his, like she was checking he was still there.

He was.

He always would be.

Two hours later, they were feeding Remy’s café patrons when Alice tilted her head.

“Wait,” she said. “Did you… cancel your meetings today?”

Noah glanced at her. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because my priorities are in this blanket fort.”

Alice blinked fast.

“Noah…”

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “Nick’s lying for me. Everyone knows.”

Her jaw clenched. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.”

“I was just… having a day.”

“And I’m just loving you through it.”

Her breath hitched.

It took a moment before she spoke again.

“I was doing so well,” she whispered, eyes back on the screen. “The meds were helping. I haven’t had one of these in weeks.”

“You’re still doing well,” he said. “This doesn’t erase that.”

“I hate how it sneaks up. I felt fine yesterday.”

“I know.”

“I just woke up and everything felt… wrong. Heavy. Like I couldn’t even convince myself to brush my teeth.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything,” he said. “You live in a brain that sometimes plays tricks on you. But I know who you are underneath that.”

She nodded slowly.

Then, without warning, she said: “Do you think Hades misses me when I don’t log in?”

Noah made a face.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t bring him into this.”

Alice smirked. “Oh my god. You are jealous.”

“He flirts with you.”

“He flirts with everyone.”

“But you flirt back,” Noah argued, pointing at her controller. “You said he had ‘villain charm.’ That’s emotional cheating.”

“He gave me a gem,” she countered. “What have you done for me today?”

“I built you a pillow kingdom and canceled an interview with Rolling Stone,” he deadpanned. “What more do you want? Blood sacrifice?”

“Hades would do a blood sacrifice.”

Noah gasped in mock betrayal.

She laughed—and it was soft, but real. The first one of the day.

He tucked his arm around her and pulled her into his side.

“You’re not allowed to leave me for a pixelated god of the underworld,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Alice smiled, nose scrunching. “You sure? He’s tall. Broody. Power-hungry. Kind of your type.”

“I am your type.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That’s why I’m staying.”

Later, when the sky darkened and the game was paused, Alice curled into him fully and said, “Thank you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “For what?”

“For making space for me on the days I can’t.”

He held her tighter.

“You do the same for me,” he said.

“You’re better at hiding it,” she murmured.

“Maybe. But you still see me.”

She didn’t respond at first.

Then: “I think I fell in love with you in a moment like this.”

He smiled.

“Same,” he whispered. “A quiet day. You sitting cross-legged, headphones in, watching Naruto like the world didn’t exist.”

“You weren’t supposed to notice me.”

“I did anyway.”

She looked up at him then, cheeks flushed from sleep and softness.

“You always will, won’t you?” she asked.

He nodded. “Always.”

And from across the room, the tiny Hades on-screen blinked, waiting.

Noah reached for the controller, gave Alice a suspicious glance.

“Let’s go remind him who you belong to.”

Alice laughed.

And the heaviness didn’t disappear.

But in the glow of fairy lights and pixelated gardens, with Noah by her side and the world held at bay, it felt like maybe—for today—it didn’t have to.

[lacy1986]

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 :)

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[lacy1986]

A little birdie (cough cough @tosoundlessdarkistare ) told me that June 21st is National Armpit Day.

You read that right. National. Armpit. Day.

@overmydeadbodysblog we have a day.

Have some GIFts from us to you.

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