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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

Note

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

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

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands.

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you. He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours.

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him.

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss.

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile.

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.”

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water.

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.”

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle.

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.”

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress.

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach.

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes.

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-"

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini.

"If you insist, cariño."

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back.

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day.

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets.

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring."

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?"

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck.

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise."

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time…

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone.

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours.

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit.

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water.

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien, okay?"

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands.

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you.

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes.

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface…

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you.

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-"

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused.

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!"

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope.

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well.

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her.

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh.

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit.

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected.

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase.

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out.

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog.

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear.

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?"

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax."

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him.

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy.

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure.

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours.

"You're teasing." He hisses softly.

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart.

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up.

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length.

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-"

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face.

Content. Relaxed, even.

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer.

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?"

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?"

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-"

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways.

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-"

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??"

You wince at the vulgarity of her words.

"....Ouch."

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara smut #kat_writes😼#spiderman2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #fine ass man #luv him

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jiminrings · 2 months

Text

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

#target audience im on my knees IM SO SO SORRY HOW R U FEELING!!!!#yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

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kentopedia · 9 months

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dating port mafia boss dazai

contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!

note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o

it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.

bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!

though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time

he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!

he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!

bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.

if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care

he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.

but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.

you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(

though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.

if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.

eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.

dazai spoils you senseless !!

if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.

sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate

loves loves loves giving you jewelry

but everything he buys is very thoughtful!

he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money

its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3

"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.

the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.

with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.

what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.

"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.

you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.

a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu

as usual, the gift was anything but small.

you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.

for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.

carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.

instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.

dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.

if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!

if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).

he loves shopping for you.

when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.

he knows exactly what you like and don't.

even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.

dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.

of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping

and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3

he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.

dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-

you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.

though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.

"nothing."

he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.

"nothing, hm?" he countered.

you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.

his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."

"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.

you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.

"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.

it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.

"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.

you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.

"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."

dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.

"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.

he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."

dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3

he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.

and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want

dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy

he gets so much better over time, though.

whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.

but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.

when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house

bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!

"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.

you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.

but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.

"how will you be paying today?"

you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.

"dazai osamu?"

you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."

though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.

"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"

it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.

"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"

"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."

you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.

"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."

"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”

"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."

for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.

you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"

though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.

when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library

its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city

there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on

he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(

"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.

"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"

you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"

and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."

you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.

"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.

dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.

he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.

dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting

if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3

and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there

bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)

and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else

he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly

the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.

but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.

"sweetheart, what's wrong?"

you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.

"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."

"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."

you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.

never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.

“said what?”

you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.

“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”

you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.

"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."

you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.

"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.

“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."

at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love

but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.

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peterparkersnose · 10 months

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Hairspray

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: pregnancy, before the outbreak, established relationship with joel, sarah is a little snitch, denial, age gap (not really specified), descriptions of childbirth, money insecurity, 2003 references

a/n this was too good to give up. lets pretend that the outbreak never happened and the miller’s got to live happily ever after :)

summary Sarah finds Y/N’s hidden pregnancy tests

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read time: 6 mins 14 seconds

The phone was new. Joel had installed it a few weeks ago. No more cord! Your opposite hand felt awkward not having something to fidget with while your sister told you the horror stories of her giving birth. Something Mandy had brought up numerous times after confiding in her that you were pregnant.

It was your first; you were in your mid-20s. War was happening overseas, the world seemed to be going to shit. What a perfect time to bring a child into the world, huh? Your husband would be ecstatic, you just knew it. But the mere thought of something growing inside of you made you sick. “And then the feet came out instead! Ripped me open like-” You jumped a little. Facing the front door, you didn’t hear your husband come in from the back. His hands wrapped around your stomach as your shoulders pressed against his chest as your sister went on about telling you how her third kid cost her sixteen stitches.

A sharp gasp came from your mouth. “Are you alright? Is it the baby?” your sister yelled from the phone. Panicked, you quickly said your goodbyes to your older sister, assuring her everything was alright. You decided to give in to the kisses Joel was placing on your neck.

“What was she going on about now? Babies? Please tell me she’s not having another one.” Joel groaned. “Nope. Nine was enough for her,” you sarcastically answered. Four nieces and five nephews were enough for you to handle. Sarah enjoyed having kids her age to play with, but Uncle Joel was getting a bit too old for the rough play the younger ones enjoyed.

“What time is it?” you asked him, grabbing at his wrist. His hands were placed on your stomach almost like he knew. His watch read a little before three. “Sarah?” you asked him, swaying with him slowly. “Tommy’s coming over and we’re going to go work on a job,” he sighed.

“Again? Joel-”

“I’m sorry, It’s a quick one. Just a little steel door frame and I’ll be home late for dinner. I promise,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. You would need more cash once the baby came.

“I’ll go get her.” you sighed, but not in an angry way. You loved your stepdaughter more than anything in the world. You have known her since she was a small girl and have gotten along with her since the day you met her. She is going to be the best big sister.

Joel handed you the truck keys. Tommy’s car beeped in the driveway. “Give Tommy my love,” you called to Joel as you heard the screen door shut. --- A mainstream pop song quietly played in the truck as you waited in line at Sarah’s middle school. Parents were eager to leave and the San Antonio traffic was bound to be crazy on a Friday afternoon. You spotted your curly-haired stepdaughter as she left the school doors with some friends. You recognized a few from the sleepover she had last week. “Do you have any hairspray?” she asked, throwing her backpack in the back seat. “Yes?”

“Perfect.” Sarah responded. “May I ask why?” “Tiffany and Ashley gave me the recipe for a new oobleck!”

Sarah excitedly waved a loose-leaf piece of paper with a sparky pink gel pen scribbled all over the paper in her stepmom's face. “Hairspray is the main ingredient,” she explained, going over all the ingredients she needed. You smiled to yourself, carefully exiting the middle school parking lot as Sarah rambled about her day.

Sarah burst into the house, setting her backpack down and heading straight towards the kitchen. “Do we have any… flour?” she asked, reading off her list. “Red jar, babes.” you stated the obvious. The flour had been in there for years. “And the hairspray?” She asked. You sat down on the couch, fatigued by what you assumed was your pregnancy. Rubbing your temples, you replied, “Under my sink.”

Sarah burst into the bathroom, whipping open the cabinet door under your sink. In her excitement, the jolting movement of the door opening vaulted the zip-loc bag of pregnancy tests you had taped to the top of the cabinet out on the floor. Confused at first, she held up one of the blue sticks. Then she got it. “Y/N?” she yelled from the bathroom. Sarah was old enough to know what these were, and what two lines meant. Once she realized she was holding a stick of what you peed on, she threw it back in the pile of the rest of them sprawled out on the floor.

Sighing, you kicked your feet back on the ground. You had just gotten comfortable when Sarah called for you.

“Hm?” you asked, causally walking into your bedroom. Your tired state seemed to do a complete 180 when you saw Sarah on the ground with your tests. You froze, unsure of what to say to her. Rapidly blinking your eyes a few times to stop tears, you realized that there was no going back from this. Without a single word spoken you crouched down, collected the pregnancy test strips, and put them back in the bag. Seeing the loose pieces of tape, you used them to adhere the bag back where it was. You handed Sarah the red printed bottle of your hairspray.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, sitting at the edge of the bathtub. “A-are they yours?” she anxiously asked. A small laugh came from you. “Yes,” you smiled. “I’m going to be a sister?” she asked you. You shook your head yes.

“Does Dad know?”

The world seemed to blur a bit when she asked that. You could feel your heartbeat increase at the thought. “No. Not yet.” “What!” Sarah gasped. “How long have you known?” “About three weeks.” “Three weeks!” Sarah yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s difficult to… come to terms sometimes,” you said, trying to come up with the best way to explain this to Sarah. “You have to tell him. Tonight!” Sarah exclaimed.

You hated to admit that she was right.

“I don’t know Sarah, he’s out on a job with your Uncle and…” “I will call him. Try me.”

You looked at her, unsure of her new aggressive demeanor. She was always a natural leader. “Sarah, this is serious.”

“I know.” she said simply, exiting the bathroom. You followed her, watching her like a hawk for the rest of the night. And the rest of the night consisted of you making dinner, ravioli. Sarah was in the kitchen and made her ooblek and when that was done she finished her homework.

You sighed when the clock rang eight. He was more than late for supper. Sarah was asleep in your lap, the mindless cartoons played on. You watched them, trying to calm your anxious mind.

You heard Tommy’s truck pull into the driveway and saw its headlights as he left the driveway. Sarah stirred a bit, but a simple smoothing of her hair soothed her back to sleep. Joel quietly made his way into the house, only noticing the two of you when he locked the door.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You shrugged. Joel sat down next to you. “How is she? Is her homework done?”

“Yup.” you said coldly. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry I was late but the hardware store was out of the screws we needed and Tommy’s car was having an issue so we had to stop and get some-”

You couldn’t listen to Joel’s rambling any longer. You frankly didn’t care about some damn screws. It had to be done, and it had to be done now. Sarah was right, he deserved to know.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel’s ramblings ended. A moment of silence lasted between the two of you. “Really?” he asked, a tiny awkward squeak coming from his voice at the end. “Mhm. Sarah found the tests. Under the sink, taped to the top of the cabinet if you want to see for yourself.”

Joel sat. “Huh,” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the shared bathroom you guys had. He came back a moment later, his face was white as a sheet of paper.

“Can we financially do this?” you whispered, knowing Sarah was well faking her sleep and listening. Joel shrugged, plopping back down next to you. He knew this was a big issue and it would have to be discussed later. They were doing well, but Joel knew firsthand a baby on a small income was expensive. “I’m happy, if you couldn’t tell.” he said, a little bit of hope rang in his tone. “I could. My reaction was the same.” you assured him. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay.” he said, entwining his fingers with yours. “How long have you known?”

You seethed. “Don’t kill me.” “Maybe,” he said flirtatiously. You loved when he still flirted with you, even though you had been together forever and you were his wife. “Three weeks.”

He sighed audibly. “How far along are you?” “Don’t kill me.” you reiterated. “I have no clue. I haven't even been to a doctor yet, Mandy’s horror stories are traumatizing enough.”

“We’re making an appointment first thing tomorrow,” he assured you. You shook your head in agreement.

“Does she know?” he whispered, looking down at his daughter. He was so excited to be able to give Sarah a sibling. His bond with Tommy was unmatchable. Even though there would be a significant age gap between them, he still loved his little brother like no other. Even if they were six years apart, they were close. “She’s the one who found the tests.” you quietly chuckled, reminding Joel of what you said earlier. “She was threatening to call you at work and ‘expose me’,” you told Joel. He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, that damn kid.” he smiled, giving Sarah’s fluffy hair a pat just like you did moments before. He brought his hand back to yours and moved the back of your hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I love you,”

“I love you too,”

“And our little family.” you added. “Yes, and our little family.” Joel confirmed.

(if this story was spaced weirdly, apologies)- tag list

@dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @kittenlittle24

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bluebeary-jay · 4 months

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Hold me close and hold me fast

Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!

Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️

Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.

But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.

“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”

He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.

He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.

“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”

Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.

“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”

“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.

“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”

“Get lost, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”

“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”

That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.

“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”

“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”

“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”

“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”

He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.

Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.

Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.

No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…

He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.

He did. In theory.

So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.

But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.

Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.

“You’re quiet.”

Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.

“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”

“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Listen here, you little tease…”

A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.

But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.

An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.

Not that he minded.

There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.

Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.

“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”

There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.

You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”

“Joel…”

The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”

“Joel.”

No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.

“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”

Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.

“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”

“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”

“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”

“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”

“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”

“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”

He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.

But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.

“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”

“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”

Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”

“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”

Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.

It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.

“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”

“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.

You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.

“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.

“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”

You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.

So, so loving.

Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.

There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.

#space sisters secret santa 2023 #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you

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thefallennightmare · 3 months

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty Three

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: PHASE II comes to an end! Strap in everyone, PHASE III is going to be a smutty ride. Also, please listen to Just Pretend on a constant loop for this chapter. ESPECIALLY AT THE THIRD PERSON POV SECTION. Then you all will finally understand what I meant about 2:23.

PLEASE READ MY JOLLY TWO PART FIC FIKA BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO CHAPTER-24!

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

JOLLY

As I stood in front of my mirror, I did my best to brush down the stray hairs so it could lay straight with the others. Tonight was important, for some more than others, but regardless, we all wanted to look our best. Noah was more nervous than any of us, only because in his mind he had more to lose.

“What if she doesn't show up?” He asked this morning during breakfast, moving his scrambled eggs around with his fork.

Jesse rubbed his shoulder. “She will, Noah. You have to stop doubting her. She’ll be there tonight.”

My phone went off in my hand and my heart skipped a beat when I peaked at the name.

I hope you have fun at your party tonight. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in bed sick. Had to close down early.

Attached was a picture of what seemed like her bedroom; a television perched up on a black wall with a wide variety of plants around it. She was watching Harry Potter; I immediately noticed which one and what scene.

Not wanting to overthink, I quickly snapped a picture of myself in the mirror before sending it to her.

“Now why are you, out of all people, smiling at your phone?” Nicholas wondered as he leaned against the door frame of my bedroom.

Sliding my phone back into the pocket of my black jeans, I stared at him unamused.

“Oh,” his eyes lit up. “Is it-?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled while gathering up my things.

Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Almost ready?”

“Yeah. How’s Noah?” I wondered while we descended the stairs and came to a halt in the living room.

“He’s okay, I think,” Nicholas sighed while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Nervous, though. We tried telling him that Y/N will be there but you know him; he won’t believe it until his eyes set on her.”

I nodded. “I’ll talk to him and meet you at the car.”

Making my way towards the master suite which was secluded off the back hallway, I could hear Noah muttering to himself. The privacy of where this bedroom was located was one of the main reasons we let Noah have it. It was on a different floor than the rest of us so when Y/N eventually moved in, they could feel like it was just the two of them.

With a soft knock on his open door, Noah peered up from burning holes into the ground.

“Hey, are you ready?”

He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his phone lying next to him on the bed, the Calm app opened and playing, but his knee continued to bounce at a rapid pace. His once-styled hair was now a disheveled mess thanks to his hands running through it.

Noah motioned to his phone. “I’m listening to the new section of “calming your mind when you feel like you’re going to ruin everything.”

“Is that the real name of the section?” I crossed my arms over my chest

He hesitated. “No”

I pinched my eyes shut with a sigh. “Noah-.”

“I’m fine,” he reassured me by rising to his feet. “I just needed to collect my thoughts.”

“Are you nervous about the release?”

“No,” Noah fidgeted with the silver chain around his wrist. “What if she-.”

I pushed myself off the door and stepped into his bedroom, laying my hands on his shoulders; they were shaking.

“Y/N will be there. She confirmed it with me and Nicholas. Stop worrying, alright? Everything will be fine.”

“I know. I’m excited, trust me. I just want tonight to go right. For the album and Y/N. She deserves a good man, and I want to be that.”

“You are, Noah. Look what you’ve done here,” I motioned to his room. “You set up her vanity, you bought her plants, you bought her cat a fucking cat tree that takes up half the wall in the living room. You’re doing everything right.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Y/N thinks I’m pretty awesome. I am awesome, to be honest,” he chuckled.

“And there he is!” I patted his shoulder. “You didn’t go anywhere. You’re simply trying to navigate the new you with another person. Trust yourself. Trust Y/N.”

With a firm nod, I motioned to his outfit. “Ready to go?”

Noah ran a hand through his hair, still getting used to the short length.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look okay?”

I peered down at his choice of outfit. It was from the new stack of clothes he bought earlier in the week. A snug black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showcasing his tattoos. The black dress pants were snug as well. A simple outfit but enough for Y/N.

“Maybe we should stay at Matt’s or even Malcolm’s place tonight,” I joked.

He rolled his eyes while playfully pushing my shoulder as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Oh, did she finally decide to be your date tonight?” Noah tried to peer at my phone.

I turned it away from him. “No, actually she’s home in bed sick.”

He stepped into his closet only to reappear with a pair of shoes in his hand. “We can bring her some soup. Or some of those Swedish desserts she made. Fuck, those were good.”

“Are you ready yet?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Everyone is waiting on us.”

Noah patted himself down as he went over his mental checklist. “Shit, I need cologne. Two minutes.”

I reread Malcolm's text message as he ran into his adjoined bathroom.

Malcolm: We’ll be a little late. Y/N’s getting ready now but we’ll be there.

Me: See you guys soon.

“Ready?” Noah asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

I nodded while pocketing my phone again. “Yep.”

MALCOLM

“I fucking hate this shit.”

Stepping out of the hallway bathroom, I wandered down the long hallway towards the living room where I noticed Chase standing in front of the mirror next to the front door; an undone tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Why the fuck do I have to wear a tie?” He grumbled when he saw my reflection in the mirror.

I chuckled before slinking up behind him and gently turning him to face me. “It’s a big night, Chase. The least we can do is dress up for our friends.”

He let out a deep sigh but nodded. “I know. I’m just not a suit and tie kind of guy.”

I paused mid-tying his tie before gazing at his black suit with a red shirt underneath. Tossing the tie onto the couch, I unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, the ink of his chest piece peeking through with the gold chain he wore all the time.

“Babe, I love you,” Chase started. “But we don’t have time for that.”

Ignoring him, I smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Leave the jacket open like this. It looks better.”

He pointed to my burgundy three-piece suit. “You’ve been waiting for a moment to break this one out.”

I snorted while tying my long auburn hair back into a bun. “Damn straight.”

Chase laid a gentle kiss on my lips before he retreated into the kitchen to pop open a Celsius. “Did you text Jolly?”

“Yeah. The plan is still set. We should be getting there before their song plays,” I said.

“Cool.”

Chase nodded but I could tell something else was weighing on him.

“What’s going on?” I asked while sitting against the back of the couch.

“I’m worried about tonight,” he admitted after a long beat. “It’s been a long time coming. After all the bullshit and miscommunication, I just want things to go perfectly. She deserves that.”

“It will, Chase. But it’s not up to us. We can get her there but the rest is on them,” I said.

He ran a tattooed hand over his buzzed head. “I know, I know. How is she doing, anyway?”

“I think she’s okay,” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Nervous, though.”

Chase tossed the empty can into the recycling before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you think she’ll love what Noah did? With the house and everything?”

“Of course, she will. Noah-.”

“Now what are you two handsome boys talking about?” The clicking of heels against the floor echoed in our apartment.

Both Chase and I turned our attention to her and he let out a low whistle. Y/N stood in front of us, decked out in full nines for tonight. The dress she wore gilded along the floor as she walked farther into the room. There was a long slit on the left side of her dress, showcasing the newest tattoo she got on the last tour with Joe. As she gave us a full 360, we marveled at the low-cut back of the dress that showcased her entire back and the large snake tattoo. With the thin straps, the tattoos on her arms were on full display tonight as well.

“Oh, sweets! Look at you.”

Y/N brushed her palms against the smooth material of her red dress. “Does it look okay? Is it too revealing? I feel like there may be too much boob with this dress and the open back-.”

“Y/N,” I stood straighter. “You look absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Noah will love it; you know how much he loves the color red.”

Chase agreed as he left a soft kiss on the side of her head, careful not to mess up the perfect curls. “He’s gonna pass out the minute he sees you.”

“I don’t think so,” she tried to argue, wringing her hands together.

“Sweets, you are the moon and he's constantly in your orbit. It’s just you two. All the time,” I said while grasping her hands, and holding them to my chest.

Y/N’s gaze darted back and forth between mine, the darkness of her eyeshadow making the color of her eyes pop, and she finally nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I do look good in this.”

“There she is!” Chase hollered while handing over her jacket.

“Fuck the record! You’re gonna be the belle of the ball,” I cheered.

We all shared a laugh but as soon as we were about to leave, Salem came bounding down the hall, the bell of his collar ringing loudly.

“Remind me to ask Noah why he chose the one collar with the loudest bell,” Chase grumbled.

Ignoring him, I watched as Y/N bent down low when Salem brushed himself against her leg; his way of saying goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’m going to see your dad.” She mused while kissing his head, not caring if she messed up her deep red lipstick.

When Salem meowed, I peered over to Chase, who was already watching the two of them with his own fond smile. I snaked my hand behind his neck to pull him in for a kiss, one that always took our breath away.

“I love you,” I muttered against his lips.

Chase rarely ever smiled, only for me and Y/N, so when he did now my heart fluttered in my chest like it always did.

“I love you too,” he placed another kiss on my lips. “Alright, let’s go. We don’t want the belle being late to her own ball.”

Y/N walked out of the apartment before us however before I could follow, Chase held me back.

“I’ll bet you $5 they meet in the middle of the fucking room like some rom-com.”

I scoffed while patting his chest. “I’ll bet you $5 they start making out 15 minutes in.”

“You’re on.”

We sealed our deal with another kiss before Y/N’s voice rang out in the front yard, the stars and moon casting her in an angelic glow.

“Come on lovebirds! I can’t be late! My prince is waiting!”

THIRD PERSON POV

Y/N smiled politely as she maneuvered her way through the crowd of familiar faces. The House of Blues was packed tonight with people here to support Bad Omens. Their third album was minutes away from being released for the public and for everyone in this room to hear. It was a huge, long-awaited event so they threw this party together for their closest friends and other musicians that were signed to the same label as them.

“Y/N!” A somewhat familiar face beamed with their arms outstretched.

Y/N cursed when she couldn’t remember this girl's name although she did remember they were signed to the same label.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled. “It’s so good to see you-.”

Chase muttered low in her ear. “Reign. Guitarist for Tonight We Sleep.

“Reign!” Y/N nodded.

“I heard Hollow Souls was on tour with nothing, nowhere. How was that?” Reign wondered.

“It was a great time. But we’re thankful to be back home for a few months,” Malcolm answered.

Can you see yourself?

Through the bruises when the makeup melts?

In the dark when all the powers out?

Everybody talks and gets around.

As Malcolm and Chase continued their conversation with Reign, Y/N froze when Noah's melodic voice echoed through the speakers of the venue. The richness of it was something she’d never heard from him. She had only heard two of their new songs so far, this one was new to her. She couldn’t help but feel frozen as she let the beat of the music hit low in her chest.

Across the room, Noah was doing his best to remain professional as someone who was a friend of a friend kept commenting on how wonderful the first song sounded.

“I love what I’ve heard so far!”

Noah nodded with a firm smile. “Thank you. Also, thank you for coming out tonight. Means a lot to me and the rest of the guys.”

After politely excusing himself, he found Jolly off in a different spot of the venue, typing away on his phone.

“Any luck?” He wondered.

Jolly rested a hand on Noah’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’ll be here, man. You need to stop stressing out about it and enjoy the party. We made it. We’re finally here after writing this album for the last two years.”

Noah stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants and nodded while keeping his head down, dark tendrils of hair falling into his face. “I know.”

Only a few feet behind the two men stood Chase and Y/N who were busy chatting with Bryan and Matt.

“I really like the new look, Y/N,” Matt smiled as he motioned to her hair.

She smiled with a red hue to her cheeks and tucked a strand behind her ear. “Thank you. I thought I was due for one.”

“How was tour?” Bryan asked.

Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours

Why I never got a say, never got a choice?

Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours

And why I never ever got a fucking say?

Chase’s conversation with the other two fell on deaf ears as Y/N once again stood frozen as the familiar lyrics touched her ears. The haunting memory of when she first heard it in her car all those months ago was still fresh, like an aching wound that hadn’t freshly healed yet. She wouldn’t hold that lapse in judgment over Noah, not when they both were trying to heal from dark moments of their pasts.

Quietly excusing herself from the guys, Y/N wandered over to the mini bar, the ends of her red dress flowing behind her.

“Hi, what can I get you?” The young man with bright green eyes behind the bar asked.

“Dr. Pepper, please,” she smiled.

As she waited for her drink, Y/N leaned her elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her palm. She’d been here for almost thirty minutes and still no sign of Noah. She knew he was here; he had to be.

Outside in the front entry of the venue, Noah tried to pay attention to the story someone was rambling on about but the only thing in his mind was Y/N and if she was here yet. The anticipation of seeing her again was palpable, almost weighing him down, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall back into that state of anxiety he was in earlier. He had to heed Jolly’s words and trust that Y/N would show up.

I know I'm gonna die in this bed I made.

And I'm drowning in a dream that I can't escape.

If I could wake up I'd hesitate.

Politely excusing himself, Noah decided that he needed a glass of water to help with the sudden dryness of his mouth. There were people everywhere, always stopping him to chat. While he loved the praise and support for the new album, he only had one focus since he stepped foot into this building.

“Noah!”

Cursing under his breath, he turned swiftly to see an old friend, someone he hadn’t spoken to in a few years. At this moment, Noah was suddenly wishing he kept the album release party to strict friends and family.

“Dude this album is sick! The cover is amazing! What inspired it?”

Noah did his best to make it seem like he was interested in the guy’s questions but truth be told, he really couldn’t give a fuck.

“Uh, I was browsing through Pinterest,” he answered honestly while gazing over the man’s shoulder.

“That’s so cool! I love that. You know-.”

A sudden flash of red caught Noah’s attention so he quickly patted the guy's shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me.”

Noah made it all of a few steps before someone else stopped him. “Noah!”

He stopped and rolled his eyes while internally groaning. He could not feel any lower at this moment as he began to feel like this was another moment set up for doom.

But that glimmer of hope in his chest sparked when he spotted those familiar auburn curls and the shaved head that belonged to the two members of Hollow Souls. So before this new conversation could start, Noah once again politely excused himself and reached Chase and Malcolm in a few quick strides.

“Hey, guys. Is Y/N-?”

Chase nodded. “She’s here, don’t worry. She was just with us but someone dragged her away for a minute.”

Cursing, Noah ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the third time in a matter of minutes. It was the only thing he could do to keep his hands busy so they wouldn’t shake.

“Can you tell her I’m looking for her?” He asked.

“Of course,” it was Malcolm’s turn to nod.

In the middle of the large circle of people, Y/N was smiling as Jolly was telling her all about his last few weeks and frequent stops somewhere.

“She sounds lovely, Jolly. I can’t wait to meet her,” she took a small sip of her soda.

Jolly shrugged while fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “It’s still early. Who knows if she’s even interested.”

Y/N rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t doubt yourself, Jolly. She gave you her number, right?”

When he nodded, she continued. “Trust me, she’s interested.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Y/N excused herself, needing to get a refill of her soda. It was a long night ahead and needed all the caffeine she could get. The clicking of her heels on the marbled floors echoed over the loud chatter of everyone but soon halted when the next few beautifully haunting melodies of Noah’s voice sang throughout the room.

I made another mistake, thought I could change.

Thought I could make it out.

Promises break, need to hear you say.

You're gonna keep it now.

Memories of her and Noah in the backseat of his car flooded Y/N’s mind and she let her eyes flutter shut, gently touching her lips. It was as if she could remember the way he tasted that night after the pier and fireworks.

I miss the way you say my name.

The way you bend, the way you break.

Your makeup running down your face.

The way you fuck, the way you taste.

That night didn’t end the way either of them wanted it to. But tonight would be different. There was no way Y/N would be leaving

“I don't understand where she’d be. How haven't I seen her yet?” Noah grumbled while fidgeting with the silver chain around his neck.

Nicholas chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Relax, Noah. You’ll find each other soon. There’s a lot of people here and chances are she got caught up with some of them.”

Folio reached them with a bright smile. “I just ran into Y/N. You’re not going to believe-.”

“Where?” Noah’s eyes widened.

“By the bathrooms. She looks good, Noah. She cu-”

He didn’t bother waiting for Folio to finish before he pushed his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms.

You couldn't wait, wait, wait.

For the day, day, day I lost.

It's such a shame, shame, shame.

You couldn't change, look what it cost, ohh.

“You haven’t found him yet?” Chase asked as he, Malcolm, and Y/N sat on one of the couches in the venue.

“No,” she sighed while fidgeting with the silver chain around her neck. “I’ve seen everyone else but him. I don’t understand where he could be. It’s like he’s avoiding me.”

“No,” Malcolm sternly shook his head. “Don’t think like that. He’s here and looking for you.”

“How come I haven’t seen him then? This place isn't huge, Malcolm.”

“But it’s packed with people, he probably got caught mingling. Just relax. Have another Dr. Pepper, will you?” Chase motioned to the minibar.

Reluctantly, Y/N nodded while rising to her feet and making her way over there for another drink.

I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell.

It's hard enough being alone with myself.

I don't know how long I'll be holding on.

I know you tried your hardest, I know that you meant well.

But you pushed me to the edge and I slipped, and then I fell.

I don't know how long I'll be holding on.

“Everything alright?” Jesse asked Noah, who was starting to look defeated.

“I’ve talked to everyone in this fucking room,” he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve done enough mingling for the night.”

“I’ll get us a couple of drinks,” Jesse offered.

Noah waved him off. “No, I’ll get it.”

Both Noah and Y/N were slowly starting to lose hope that they would find each other, all while the rest of their friends were worried the two soulmates would miss their mark. Two songs left and if things didn’t go according to plan, everything would have been for nothing.

Y/N leaned against the wall in the secluded hallway, alone for the first time all night as she gathered her thoughts. Her feet were killing her from the heels and her cheeks ached from all the fake smiling tonight. She understood she needed to mingle with people tonight but frankly, she was over it. The only thing Y/N wanted was to find Noah; her heart and soul yearned for him.

I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know.

How quick it gets lonely here at the top.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn.

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone.

Snapping her gaze up from the floor, she let Noah’s deep voice sink deep into her bones as she sucked in a breath.

No God, no religion.

Just bad, bad decisions.

No God, no religion.

Just bad, bad decisions.

“No,” she shuddered, remembering that night all those months ago in that hotel room.

It should have been a great memory. At the end of their evening that night, there was a feeling in her gut that said, “no,” due to the fears of the past and the weight of burdens others cast onto her. When she walked away from him in that hotel room, Y/N believed it was what started the downward spiral into the dark parts of her life.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know, all I know

Is bad, bad decisions

The image of Noah sitting in the airport the morning after was something Y/N tried so hard to forget. It haunted her for a long time after, all those days locked away in her bedroom as she talked with Keaton. In those times of darkness, he seemed to be the only one to give her an answer without ever speaking.

“I won’t walk away from him again, Keaton,” Y/N muttered while grasping the chain around her neck. “I’ll stay until morning.”

I'm only human, but I'm afraid.

I may never learn from all my mistakes.

Don't know what I'm doing but that's okay.

'Cause I like it that way.

Another feeling in her heart that said, “Yes.”

Noah wasn’t like anyone else, he claimed to be someone mundane, with nothing to offer when in fact, he offered her the entire world that night with just a smile and those shining auburn eyes.

Bitter ends to the nights.

I'm along for the ride.

Out of breath, out of time.

Everything has a price.

Bitter ends to the nights.

I'm along for the ride.

Out of breath, out of time.

Everything has a price.

When people choose to be brave in love instead of being the puppets of fear, everything seems to get better. It became gradual. Y/N decided to make the right choice, the one she believed in.

Pushing herself off the wall, she forced her way through the crowd ignoring people who tried to get her attention. The vision of Chase and Malcolm a few feet in front of her was her current target until the siren-like voice of Noah made her stop completely in the middle of the room.

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

Noah immediately sat straighter on the couch, nearly dropping the glass of water, as those lyrics rang out into the vast space of the room.

No, they were supposed to be together at this moment. Not far apart.

This was their song.

So will you wait me out?

Or will you drown me out?

So will you wait me out?

Or will you drown me out?

Everyone around Y/N faded to white noise as she stared blankly ahead toward Chase and Malcolm, who watched their sister with confused expressions. Something about the way Noah’s voice sang with so much emotion told her everything she needed to know.

This was their song.

I can wait for you at the bottom.

I can stay away if you want me to.

I can wait for years if I gotta.

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.

Noah bolted up from the couch. “I need to find her.”

Michael and Orie shared a look before the former stood slowly. “Noah-.”

“NO!” His head snapped towards Michael. “We needed to be together for this song. It’s not-. It won't feel right unless she’s with me.”

Neither man made comments on the way Noah’s voice cracked, so close to breaking down. Instead, they nodded and agreed to help him find Y/N.

I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face.

And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same.

So many different memories flashed in Y/N’s mind as she let Noah’s voice sing to her; sing their song to her.

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?

The first meeting when he stepped off the bus. Their day at the zoo and the wolf stuffed animal he bought her. The day at the beach where she told him it couldn’t rain all the time.

It seemed as if the rain had finally seized.

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait for years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

Y/N remembered her birthday and how Noah bought her the necklace and bracelet she was currently wearing.

We'll try again.

When we're not so different.

We will make amends.

'Til then I'll just pretend.

There was something there in the distorted part of the song, something that Y/N immediately caught and let out an audible gasp, hand covering her mouth. Another memory plagued her existence; the pier day.

“Noah! Stop!” She giggled while wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What?” Noah stopped spinning. “Let you go?”

Y/N shrieked as he nearly dropped her. “No, you idiot! Don’t let me go!”

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning.

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

“Sweets,” Chase tentatively approached Y/N, resting a hand on her elbow. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, eyes brimming with tears, as she stared up at Malcolm and Chase while stumbling over her words. “I-I-I have to find Noah. I need to-I can’t.”

Malcolm nodded. “Ok, we will. Let’s split up and-.”

As if the stars were finally aligning in perfect harmony, something told Y/N to glance to her left, that pull in her heart she never ignored when it came to Noah vibrating with so much energy it made her choke on a breath.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

The music seized for a few seconds as Noah let out a choked breath when his amber eyes finally landed on her, their gazes locking. Everything and everyone seemed to fall away from them into the depths below their feet. His palms began to sweat as his ear rang loudly. His pulse rate quickened as his heart began to beat so hard he felt it in his throat.

Y/N and Noah were the only two that mattered at this moment and right when Folio’s drumming picked up again in the song, they pushed their way through the crowd toward each other.

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait four years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

Y/N couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she maneuvered her way past people who continued to try and get her attention. None of them mattered. The only one that did was now less than a few feet away from her; their souls vibrating for the connection it drastically missed.

We'll try again

When we're not so different

We will make amends

They were no longer different. Y/N and Noah grew immensely with their time apart and now they were finally ready to become one.

'Til then I'll just pretend.

There was no more pretending anymore. Every bad, good, ugly, and beautiful that these two went through was worth it for this moment. This is what all of their friends and they had been waiting for.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

Y/N would stay until morning; every morning.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

Noah was worthy.

READER

My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my throat when I came to a halt in front of Noah. Even though he looked different, he was still my Noah.

“Hi-.”

My greeting was cut off when his large hand wrapped behind my neck to yank me towards him, his lips crashing against mine. Very quickly, my hands grasped at his shirt to feel if he was actually in front of me and not another dream.

But his lips were real. The taste of his tongue was real as it forced its way into my mouth to mold against mine. I moaned into the kiss when his hands grasped at my backside as if he wanted to commit every last curve to memory. The other kisses we’ve shared were intense, but this was the kiss that sent my mind spinning. I moaned again, leaning into his embrace and meeting his passion. My teeth caught his bottom lip and tugged as I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair and our bodies were pressed against each other.

The smell of his cologne, the soft and peachy scent of his conditioner was dizzying and the butterflies danced in my stomach.

When he nibbled on my bottom lip before devouring my mouth once again with his tongue, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips into his. I missed every single part of him and my soul was screaming its thanks for finding its mate once again.

Noah’s lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. They parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. I could faintly taste the mint from his toothpaste and apple cider he must have drank earlier.

My eyes were half closed and I had a feeling Noah's eyes were as well because of how focused this kiss was, as if he was burning it into his memory. Almost like he was afraid I would vanish; slip through his fingertips as they dug into the material of my dress.

No, never again.

Noah nudged his nose against mine, and our mouths fell lazily together, already soft and open. I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, fingers carding through his hair as we breathed each other in. I could taste our shared breath, and feel the thud of our combined heartbeat.

I wanted to open my eyes to get a better look at his too-dark eyebrows. The freckles that peppered his nose and cheeks. I needed to admire the new crazy, vampire hairline. I desperately wanted to observe all of him. Burn it into memory.

I recalled at that moment that this wasn’t the end. No, this was the beginning and I could always bear some witness. My mouth was beginning to tire.

Noah’s kisses were all-absorbing like he was drawing something out of me with soft little jabs of his chin. The stubble was gone, much to my dismay, and I ran my hands down over his broad chest, nails scraping along the silver chain across his neck, something I noticed when I finally pulled away and opened my eyes.

It mirrored the one that hung on my neck.

Peering up through my lashes, I was finally able to drink in the sight of Noah and his kiss-bruised lips. His pupils were blown wide as his large hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing the lone tear that fell.

“Hi,” Noah breathed.

I couldn't help but giggle while wrapping my arms around him. “Hi.”

His eyes scanned my face while still holding my face. “You’re here. You’re real.”

“Were you expecting a ghost?” I teased with a raised brow.

“No, no I just-,” he trailed off with a shake of his head.

“I know,” I squeezed him. “I’m here.”

“Let’s go somewhere where we can talk?” Noah suggested.

“Please.”

I let him link our fingers together, bringing my hand to his lips to leave soft kisses against each knuckle before wrapping an arm around me to lead me outside. As if he couldn’t believe I was in his embrace, Noah kissed my cheek a few times, causing a fit of laughter to echo in the room.

I did my best to ignore Chase and Malcom when we walked past them, the latter handing the former some cash.

JESSE

Friends, friends of friends all disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, and found each other a few feet away.

Noah and Y/N broke apart from their kiss engulfed in one another.

What a man like Noah will store up in his ghostly heart no amount of fire or freshness can be challenged. He tried very hard not to dwell on the past but oftentimes found himself there. The past few months, I noticed my friend trying to move on from the stories that haunted him.

Noah wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Y/N, himself, and hell even the band. His life had been confused and disordered since I met him, yet a light and new spark of glory came breaking through that concrete surface.

I looked at them both as they took slow strides across the room, towards the glass doors that led to the back deck of The House of Blues. Noah was looking down at Y/N as she talked, her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear followed up and down as if each speech was an arrangement of notes that would never be played again.

Y/N’s face was happy and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes, and a bright passionate mouth. I could tell there was excitement in her voice by the way Noah was grinning from ear to ear, fingers tangling in her new locks.

He was so beautifully whipped and I couldn’t be more pleased. I fucking knew it would work out.

Glancing across the room towards our larger group of friends; our family and we all shared a nod and a smile.

Finally.

With that, I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table, the only place in the garden where a single man could linger without looking purposeless and alone.

READER

As soon as we stepped outside, I tied my jacket closer to my chest while Noah led me to a bench. Once we were seated, his arm pulled me closer to him, his lips brushing along my hairline.

“I’ve missed you, angel.”

I leaned into him while grazing my fingers against the back of his neck. “I missed you too, Noah. I also love your haircut.”

He went rigid. “Are-are you sure? I know how much you loved the long hair but I felt like I needed to see the back of my neck again.”

I reassured him with a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think your long hair will always be my favorite but this is nice too. It suits you. Reminds me of Levi.”

“You caught that?” Noah chuckled.

“Oh immediately,” I brushed away the strands that fell into his eyes. “You know how much of a sucker I am for Captain Levi. But honestly, you look wonderful, mochi.”

He scrunched his face. “I still give off the mochi vibe for you?”

“You’re mochi, you will always be my little mochi,” I cooed while pinching his cheeks.

Noah grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to be called that, by anyone but you. Just you.”

“Good, because the nickname stays,” I smiled.

It was his turn to run his fingers through my hair, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“You cut and dyed your hair?”

Now it was me who felt nervous being assessed by his eyes and I shifted next to him. “Yeah, I felt like I needed a change. I’m sorry if it’s not as flattering as before but I-”

He immediately hushed my words with a gentle kiss on my lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

My hands were sprawled over his chest and it was then that I noticed the glimmer of a silver chain under the moonlight from above. I tilted my head at it when I noticed how familiar it looked.

“Wait,” I grasped his necklace. “Is this?”

“Uh, yeah,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “When I bought your set for your birthday, I bought myself a set as well. You’re wearing yours?”

Immediately I lifted my wrist to his face while showing the necklace with the other. “I haven’t taken them off since I found them in my dresser drawer. The day of my live stream.”

His fingers grazed down the side of my neck, over my collarbone to fiddle with my necklace. “I know. I noticed it right away.”

We sat in silence for a quick beat but I could tell something was weighing heavily on Noah’s mind, his eyes cast down to not meet my gaze. I lifted his chin with a knuckle to force him to look at me.

“What are you thinking about?” I wondered.

His almond eyes glistened. “I know you only heard a few of the songs so far but I need to be honest with you and apologize if some of these songs hit a nerve. I wrote a few of them when I was really upset. Bad Decisions especially.”

I linked our fingers together to rest them on my lap. “I know.”

“I needed to get through whatever we were doing and going through. I don’t want to upset you or anything.”

“No, Noah. You didn’t. I should have considered your feelings when I pushed you away that night. None of that was right, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize just how much you mean to me. I’ve always been yours, Noah, and I'm sorry I made you go through that.”

His brows furrow while shaking his head. “Angel, it’s not all on you. Listen, I’m moving past the anger and frustration. All the fear and panic. I’m trying to look at things more healthily. I accept your apology. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms. We both have had a lot to work through. I was talking to my therapist and she told me that acceptance of things we cannot change is the first step.“

“Wait,” I blinked while turning my body to face him. “Your therapist?”

“Uh, yeah,” he ran a hand over his chin, suddenly nervous.

“Noah, that’s amazing. I’m proud that you’re talking to someone. I am too. My therapist, Dr. Poulos, is wonderful. She’s been helping me a lot.”

Now it was him who blinked while shaking his head. “Hang on. What’s your therapist's name?”

I pursed my lips. “Dr. Poulos.”

“The small office on W. 9th Street? It has that new cafe next to it?”

I nodded slowly, still not understanding. “Yeah, I still have to try their coffee. But I’m not following.”

“Y/N, we've been seeing the same therapist,” Noah informed with a light chuckle.

My eyes widened. “No way.”

“I swear. She has that dying plant-.”

“On the shelf behind her chair!” I finished while pointing a finger, my own fit of giggles filtering into the night air.

“Do you think she knew that we were talking about each other?” Noah asked.

“She had to! There’s no way she didn’t,” I said, still laughing, and ended up leaning against the bench to gaze up at the stars. “It seemed the universe kept trying to keep us together in our time apart.”

Noah mimicked my actions. “I think so too.”

Neither of us said anything for a long moment, enjoying the quiet of the night air with the subtle noise from the party inside. Neither of us was in a rush to go back in, simply enjoying our time together.

“Can I be vulnerable with you right now?” I said suddenly, breaking the silence, while turning my head to face him.

Noah gazed over to me, eyes filled with love. “Always, angel.”

“She asked me why I loved you.”

His brows peaked with interest. “Oh, what did you tell her?”

I only thought about my answer for a brief moment, figuring out the best way to let out everything I feel about him. “I love you for many things; your passions, your love, your friendships, and brotherhood. Your beauty and nature. I despised the pain you went through.”

Sitting farther up, I traced my fingers over the exposed tattoos on his forearms. “I love you so deeply, so incredibly much, that I wanted to find a way to come back to you despite my condition, and past keeping me in fear.”

It was true. My endometriosis had hindered me for years. Trey made me believe that no man would stay with me because of it; especially Noah. He wanted a family and I was keeping him from that.

But never once did Noah make me feel that way. He made me feel as if he would be by my side no matter what we decide to do in the future.

I let out a shaky breath before continuing. “Ever since I was diagnosed with endometriosis, the fear of whether I'd ever be able to have kids kept me from finding the happiness I deserved. So I settled for what I thought I deserved until you came into my life.”

Noah’s fingers grazed over the back of my neck.

“You showed me that my condition doesn't have to mean the end for my future. I have choices. So thank you for that.”

He brushed his lips over my forehead and I grasped at his sides. “Of course, angel. Can I be honest with you?”

Peering up at him, I nodded. “Please.”

“Would kids be nice?” Noah licked his lips. “Yes. But if it’s not for us, then I’m okay with it. As long as I have you and Salem, then that’s all I need.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because if I can’t give you a child, you might say you’re fine now but who knows years down the road.”

He cupped my cheeks now. “I promise you. You’re it for me, angel.”

Noah then brushed back the hair from my face, tracing a finger over my jawline before speaking again.

“You know, one of the things I discussed in therapy was how I believed I’ve spent every life before this one searching for you. Hoping that we would find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we’ve had before.”

I trailed a red nail down his chest. “You know, Malcolm also said something about our past lives.”

This piqued Noah’s interest as he gave me a smug smile. “Oh, yeah? Folio thought the same thing.”

“Of course, he would,” I snorted. “Did he also think you saved me from a burning building that was set on fire by my long-lost brother?”

Noah’s chest rumbled in laughter. “He said I fell in love with you after one wild night of sex and you came on the road with me.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that life. It probably would make a great story to read online,” I mused while leaning into him, allowing Noah to wrap his arm around my shoulder.

“I’m so happy you’re here tonight, angel. But I hope you know I’m not letting you leave here without me, right?” He muttered against the side of my head.

I wrapped my arms around his side to bury my face into his chest. “I wasn’t leaving without you. Even if you decided not to wait for me anymore.”

“There’s no universe where we aren't together, Y/N. We can’t outrun each other. I love you.”

With his long fingers lifting my chin, the softness of his lips molded against mine and a gentle but firm kiss. His tongue brushed over my bottom lip, asking permission before slipping inside. I moaned into it, reveling in his taste. Sparks shot off inside of me, igniting my cells with such heat, my pussy throbbed in anticipation.

“Stay the night with me?” Noah nibbled against my bottom lip

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I breathed before devouring him once again.

NOAH

With Y/N’s hand in mind, I led her up the driveway towards the house, the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement.

She pulled me to a stop while groaning. “Hang on a second.”

“Everything alright?” I asked, worried that she was changing her mind and wanted to go home.

Bending at her knees, Y/N made quick work of taking off her heels.

“I suddenly remember why I hate wearing heels,” she groaned again. “My feet are killing me.”

Quickly, I scooped her up in my arms to carry her bridal style up the rest of the way to the front door.

“Noah,” she giggled. “I can walk.”

“You’re insane if you think you’re going to walk in the dirt then on my clean floors,” I joked.

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re such a clean freak.”

Ignoring her comment, I reached into my pocket awkwardly to reach for my keys and unlocked the door. My mind was working in overdrive on how to make the rest of our night perfect.

Would she like the house?

Would she appreciate what I’ve done in my room for her?

Would she actually stay?

Stepping over the threshold, I set her down gently in the dark room before clicking on the light, allowing Y/N to take in the fresh scenery.

“Oh wow,” she muttered while looking at me over her shoulder. “It’s a lovely place, Noah.”

I did my best to smile through my nerves and ran a hand through my hair. “Did you want something to drink? If you want a beer, I’m sure one of the guys won’t mind if you take one of theirs. I actually don't drink anymore.”

“You don’t?” She asked.

“No,” I now rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m actually sober. I have been for the last few weeks. I had to, for a few reasons, but it was something I wanted to do.”

Y/N walked into my embrace, wrapping her arms around me, and laid her chin on my chest as she looked up at me.

“I’m proud of you, Noah. I know it might not have been easy and it still may not be. But I’m proud of all your accomplishments. And I’m happy to be by your side for it.”

I kissed her forehead. “Come on, I think I have a Dr. Pepper in the fridge.”

“Oh no. If I have any more caffeine I’ll be a jittery mess. I’m fine right now. Why don’t you show me around?”

Nodding, I spent the next while showing her around the house, upstairs first to where the guy's rooms and the studio were. It was when we were back downstairs and in the open space of the living room and kitchen that she paused while pointing to the large cat tree opposite the large bay window.

“Who has a cat?”

My cheeks flushed as I shifted on my feet. “It’s for Salem. I thought it would be nice for him the next time I have to watch him when you’re out of town or something.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Noah,” she said with a shaky breath.

I could see the tears welling in her eyes but made no mention of it. Instead, I linked our hands together and kissed the back of hers. “I know but I wanted to.”

“I like the couch,” she nodded towards it; the large evergreen sectional.

I smiled wildly. “Thanks, it’s a dope couch. I’d been wanting something like this for a while.”

“So,” she cleared her throat. “Are you going to show me your bedroom?”

“Trying to get me into bed already, angel,” I mused while yanking her into my embrace.

Her hair flew behind her shoulders with the sudden pull and she held herself up by her one hand on my chest, the other still locked with mine.

“I’m tired,” she shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

Smiling at her joke, I lightly dragged her down the hallway towards the master suite but she stopped in front of a closed door.

“What’s this room?”

My face twitched. “Oh, just storage space.”

She narrowed her eyes, almost seeing through my life. “Storage space? You sure you’re not creating a room for all your awards and nominations are you?”

“Ha ha,” I mocked while booping her nose. “Very funny my little flower but that’s a no.”

Y/N was taken aback. “Did you just boop my nose?”

“I did, you have a cute nose,” I shrugged as if it was nothing.

The memory of our hike that one morning when she said the same thing to me fluttered in my mind and I smiled fondly at it.

“Now if I’m not mistaken, I was the one that said you had a cute nose.”

She tried to boop my nose but instead, I grabbed her wrist and spun her to face the other door across the hall.

“Do you want to see my bedroom or not?” I wondered.

“Very much,” she leaned her head against my shoulder as I guided her through the door.

We stood in utter darkness, our breathing sounding so loud in the enclosed space, as I brushed my nose along her neck to breathe in her familiar scent. It made my cock twitch in my pants and I internally groaned, wanting to envelope myself into her.

“Do you guys always sit in the dark or what?”

Stepping away from her, reluctantly, I clicked on the light of the room, Y/N’s loud gasp echoing. She brought her hand to her mouth as she took in every inch of the bedroom.

The large king-sized bed with the sage green duvet blanket and six pillows. The burnt orange throw blanket was thrown haphazardly on. Lined on the wall behind the headboard were the LED lights casting the room in a faint red glow.

The large walk-in closet that only one side was filled with clothes and shoes, the other side bare; waiting to be filled.

The plants littered almost every inch of the shelves of my bookshelves and end tables on either side of the bed.

But when Y/N’s eyes landed on the vanity in front of the window that overlooked the small creek in the backyard, I noticed her breath catch. It still had a few of the figurines I bought her and empty containers, waiting to be filled to the brim with her products.

“What’s this?” She gazed over at me.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “It’s your vanity table. I didn’t buy you a chair yet because I wanted you to try ones out that you’ll like. I figured you’d be sitting there while you do your hair and makeup so you’d want to be comfortable. And I didn’t bother buying products cause I don’t know what works best for you. So I figured we could go shopping and you can buy whatever you want or need when you’re here. That way you don’t have to lug everything back and forth.”

“Noah,” her voice trailed off.

“Chase and Malcolm told me that you have all your products jammed into a suitcase so I got you the biggest one that would fit in this space,” I said while running my hand on the dark surface to brush away the nonexistent dust.

“They knew about this?” Y/N asked as she fumbled with one of the skulls.

It had a crow resting on it with red flowers.

Then she picked up the Valak figure, the faintest of smiles on her gorgeous face.

“Yeah. They told me a few things but a lot I remembered from what you already have in your bedroom. I wanted you to feel like you have a place here, angel,” I spoke.

She, however, hadn’t said much and it began to make me worry. Maybe I did too much. Pushed her somehow with everything.

“If it’s too much, I can-.”

“No!” Y/N whirled her head to me. “It’s not. I love it so much. I just don’t know what to say because no one has ever done something like this for me before.”

I grasped her hips, peering down at her through the few strands of hair that fell into my face. “I’m going to take care of you, angel. No matter what. You deserve all of this and more.”

She hastily wiped away the few stray tears before leaving a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you for this, Noah. Truly. I love you.”

My thumb caught a tear that fell. “Anything for you. Come on, I want to show you one more thing.”

With my hand on her lower back, I guided her out through the patio doors in my bedroom onto the secluded deck. We had one that wrapped around the back and side of the house but this one was only accessible through my bedroom. The sound of the running creek and crickets played like music as we leaned against the railing.

“Every morning, I come out here with my coffee or tea, and either read a book or meditate. I let the sun hit my face and enjoy the solace. Something I never used to have much of before,” I explained while crossing my arms over my chest.

Y/N rested her head against my shoulder. “That sounds lovely Noah, I’m comforted knowing that helps you and that you can do that for your peace.”

“You could do it too,” I suggested.

She hummed. “I could, but you know that small patio back at my apartment is not ideal for sitting outside and sunbathing.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, you’re always welcome to just stroll right over here to use this one. What’s mine is yours you know.”

“Like I won’t be here all the time anyways,” Y/N snorted while playfully smacking my arm.

“You’re right,” I chuckled.

A sudden chill brushed over us which caused her to shiver so I motioned for us to go back inside. She sat on the edge of the bed with a content look crossing her features.

“How did you get lucky to get the master bedroom with that shower?” She wondered while throwing a thumb over her shoulder.

“We flipped a coin,” I joked while plopping beside her.

It was nearing midnight and exhaustion was aching deep in my bones but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet. I wanted every waking moment with Y/N.

I ran my finger down the exposed skin of her back, tracing the lines of her snake tattoo. My eyes were drawn to the ivory river that gently caressed its way down her neck, reaching just below her shoulder blades. If the gods are real then this woman is their masterpiece.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“No,” she tapped her chin in mock thought. “I don’t think you have.”

“Well, you look stunning, angel,” I kissed her shoulder.

She had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness.

“I was told the theme was red, though,” she teased while pulling at my shirt.

With a smirk, I lifted my pant leg to showcase the long red socks I’d been wearing all night. Y/N peered down at them, carefully studying the black symbols.

“Those symbols are on Salem's collar and they were showcased tonight,” her eyes lit up when she remembered.

“Surprise?” I shrugged.

“Do they have meaning?”

I pointed to each symbol. “Death. Peace. Mind.”

“The Death of Peace of Mind,” she uttered the name of our album. “Oh wow, I love that, mochi.”

When her bright eyes gazed up at me, I cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, slow and sensual. When I pulled away for a brief moment, I marveled at her beauty. Alluringly, Y/N would blink her eyes from time to time, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like the wings of an actual angel.

By Venus, her eyes were simply spellbinding.

With my lips on hers again, I let my tongue explore her mouth while I leaned her back on the bed. One had caressed her cheek while the other ran down her side before resting on her hip. Y/N hooked her leg around mine in a way to lock me in and her nails scratched at the skin of my stomach, underneath my shirt. I shivered with her angelic touch, moaning into her mouth as our tongues continued the fight for dominance.

Y/N tasted just the same but there was no possible way I’d ever get sick of it. I drank her in, reveled in the way her lips molded against mine, and when I broke apart from her to start leaving kisses from her jaw to her neck, she sucked in a breath when I began sucking on the sensitive area just underneath her ear.

I pressed my hips into her, my cock fucking aching in my pants, and I knew she felt it because Y/N let out a harsh moan; my name falling off her sweet lips.

However, when my hand slipped between the slit of her dress, her warm skin underneath my fingertips, she gently pushed me away.

“Wait,” she spoke with a small waver in her voice.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“No, no, you’re fine, Noah. It’s just-”

Y/N sat up on her elbows which made me lean back on my knees so I could gaze down at her. Fuck, she looked beautiful with her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. There was a faint red mark on her neck and my dick twitched with the excitement of marking what was mine.

“I have to talk to you about something,” she blew a strand of hair from her face.

I gave her a small nod, urging her on.

Y/N licked her lips while taking a deep breath. “I know this is a moment and this is something we’ve been waiting for, for a while. But I don’t want us to rush into full-on sex tonight. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted.”

She continued to ramble on so I hushed her worries with a kiss to her lips, nibbling on her bottom lip. “No angel, no. I’m just so happy to have you with me at all. All I want is you. My love for you isn’t based on sex. I don’t mind waiting for you, I will always wait for you.”

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as Y/N eventually nodded. I lowered myself once again, this time farther down.

“Can I?” I hovered over her pussy, warm breath fanning over the material of her red dress.

She raised her hips off the bed towards my face. “Please.”

With her permission, I lifted her from the bed to stand on her feet. My hands snaked up behind her to unzip her dress, it falling to her feet in a pool of fabric. I took a step back so I could gaze upon her. Y/N stood in front of me in nothing but her red lace thong and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of her. Her muscle definition was perfect and she glowed with a newfound confidence. Y/N wasn’t just flawless in her bone structure but her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty.

“Noah.”

My eyes snapped away from admiring her body to her face. “Hm?”

“I love you,” she admitted while taking off her panties.

My heart swelled in my chest and I let out a long breath. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Gently laying her back onto the bed, I settled myself between the valley of her legs and my nostrils flared when the scent of her filled the room. The red hue from the neon lights behind my bed bathed her in an incandescent glimmer. My angel. The scarlet shade emulates her place in my heart where she flourishes.

Now kneeling on the floor, I wrapped my hands around Y/N’s legs to drag her down towards me, her squeals echoing off the walls of my bedroom.

Our bedroom.

Her nails raked through my hair, urging me closer. I darted my eyes up towards her one final time before devouring her completely. My tongue licked up her entire slit, Y/N hissing in pleasure, and I licked the sensitive nub over and over. Hiking her leg over my shoulder, I spread her wider for me so I could spear my tongue between her folds.

Fuck, I missed the way she tasted.

“Noah,” she moaned.

I lapped up her essence hungrily, like a man starved. The tangy sweetness made me moan in delight as I replaced my tongue with a finger, pumping in and out, then wrapped my lips around her clit to suck.

“Fu-fuck. Shit,” Y/N writhed against the comforter.

One hand was still tangled in my hair while the other grasped at the pillow behind her, her arm extended up over her head.

“Close, Noah, Holy shit” she muttered passionately.

Y/N gripped my hair pushing my head even harder- in an effort to get me closer, if at all possible. I pushed my tongue and fingers deeper inside her, almost feeling like I might split her in half. Her knees shook as she all but yanked on my hair now, her body going rigid. Her pussy pulsed in my mouth as the first waves of her orgasm began to build.

I hummed in approval with how she tasted but I needed more; I needed all of her.

“Noah, I’m gonna-.”

With a gentle pat to the inside of her thigh, I made my fingers work faster while my tongue teased her clit before scrapping my teeth against it; that being exactly what she needed to finally let herself go.

I gazed upon her perfect, naked form, her skin glistening with a sensual sweat. She was stunning. Something radiated from within that rendered her irresistible, and I was more than thankful to be between her thighs, tasting her again. My eyes caught sight of the new ink on her right thigh. The design was of a tattooed arm and hand holding a black rose. After her favorite nothing, nowhere album.

Reaper.

A fool says there was no god. I was no fool. She was an altar to me and I was here to worship.

The cries of her orgasms sounded like a pure melody as I licked and finger fucked Y/N through the aftershocks. My cock was pressing against the confines of my pants and I palmed myself to relieve some of the ache.

She patted my head and I finally pulled away from her to lick up her arousal from my lips and then from my fingers. Humming in approval, I hovered over her and buried my face in the crook of her neck.

“Fuck, Y/N. I missed how you tasted,” I groaned, nipping at the skin of her collarbone.

“I missed that,” she said breathlessly.

My finger brushed over her clit and she shook in overstimulation. “Noah, I can’t.”

I shook my head. “Yes, you can, angel. I want at least four out of you.”

Y/N turned her head towards me, her eyes blown wide with lust and her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “Four?”

I nodded eagerly while slipping a finger inside of her. “I’ve waited so long to have you again, Y/N.”

She moaned while arching her back off the bed, her walls clamping around my fingers as I slipped another one inside. Now with two fingers, I worked her close to another orgasm as my tongue teased and teeth pulled on one of her nipples.

“Cum for me, angel. Be a good girl and fall apart on my fingers,” I demanded before dragging my tongue between the valley of her breasts.

Her second orgasm ripped through her with no warning and I let her ride it out against my palm, praising her with sweet whispers in her ear. I brought my fingers to my lips, licking them clean as Y/N watched with wide eyes.

“So fucking good,” I mused before crashing my lips to hers.

I was aching, my cock practically screaming at me for some sort of release, but it wasn't about me right now. It was about Y/N.

As I went back to working on the mark on her neck I started earlier, I rearranged ourselves so now I was sitting against the headboard of the bed with Y/N lazily sitting on my thigh. I knew she was exhausted but I also knew that she had at least one more in her.

“Noah,” she whined. “I can’t.”

I brushed away the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead so I could gaze upon her. “Yeah, you can. I know you can. Soak my thigh, angel.”

I was so far gone in my own lust for her; my love for her, that I was about to bust at the seams.

“I don’t see how it's fair,” Y/N pouted. “You still have your clothes on.”

I smirked and kissed the corner of her lips. “Soon.”

With a bruising grip on her hips, I began to guide her back and forth against my thigh; her arousal from her two previous orgasms already soaking my pants. The warmth of her made me revel in delight as I leaned my head against the headboard so I could watch Y/N.

She arched her back, her tits in full display in front of me, and she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, lips parting in a silent moan. As she continued to rub her pussy against my thigh, Y/N’s hands slipped underneath my shirt to yank it up over me, tossing it to the floor.

The cool breeze from the overhead ceiling fan cooled my heated skin and her nails scratched at the tattoos on my chest. Her mouth immediately attached to the divot of skin between my neck and shoulder, teeth nipping before soothing the pain with her tongue.

“Shit,” I hissed in pleasure.

This orgasm was silent but just as powerful as Y/N’s body went stiff in my embrace, my arms locking around her to press our bare chests against each other.

“Good girl,” I praised with a kiss to the side of her head, her body going limp in my embrace.

READER

Noah’s arms wrapped around me from behind as he buried his face into the back of my neck, breathing me in. While I was still naked, he was only wearing his red briefs. He lost his pants right after I finished cumming all over his thigh.

For the last little while, we had been resting in each other's arms, enjoying the silence that fell between us. I enjoyed the way I felt his chest against my back, his deep breaths almost lulling me to sleep but I refused to succumb to the darkness yet. I wanted more time with him.

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, angel,” he laid a kiss on my shoulder and sighed in content. “I’ve been dreaming about this a long time. All I want to do is give you the pleasure you deserve. I love you.”

I turned over in his arms so I could face him and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “I love you too.”

When I went to pull away from him, Noah pouted and reached for me. “Hey, where are you going?”

I patted his chest. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”

Wrapping my leg around his hips, I now straddled him and linked our fingers together to hold his hands above his head. I licked and kissed my way from his forehead to his cheek, down his neck, and across the tattoo on his chest.

“Two can play at this you know,” I muttered.

Noah made a low noise in the back of his throat. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

“As you’ve proven,” I teased while gazing up at him. “I owe you for all those wonderful orgasms you’ve given me.”

Letting go of his hands, I dragged myself down the length of him to rest just above his cock which was barely being confined by his briefs. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and slowly dragged them down his long legs to toss them over my shoulder.

I now gazed upon the colorful designs that littered almost every single inch of Noah’s skin. His cock was almost standing straight and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of the beads of precum that dripped down his length. For months, I dreamed of the last of it; of him.

Noah noticed the way I titled my head at him, eyes darkening.

“Y/N, you don’t have-. Oh, shit!”

He groaned in pleasure when I lapped up the precum, humming in delight, before sinking my mouth over his entire length. My tongue pressed against the base of his cock as I moved my head up and down, slow at first to take my time.

“Oh fuck,” Noah huffed out my name as he gripped the blanket beneath him.

I continued to suck him sloppily for a few moments before taking all of him deep in my throat. His hands grasped behind my head to keep me steady, hips bucking up into me. I dug my nails into his thighs as tears burned in the corners of my eyes, drool dripping from my lips but I refused to let up even a half an inch. I concentrated on breathing through my nose while gliding my tongue up and down.

The head of his cock was buried at the back of my throat and I ignored my gag reflex, not wanting to think of it. I dared a peek up at him, noticing that his head was arched back onto the pillow, his eyes closed, my name falling from those sinful lips in prayer. Sweat gathered at his forehead, dark tendrils sticking to him, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long with the grunts he was making.

My fingers played with his balls as I began moving my head up and down at a fast pace now, wanting nothing more than to get him to finish; and revel in his own orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Oh fuck,” Noah warned.

Suddenly, warm spurts of cum shot to the back of my throat and I mewled in delight as I swallowed every last drop of him, coming off of his cock with a loud pop. I wiped the drool from my chin with the back of my hand as Noah brushed away the hair from his face, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

I nodded with a giggle. “Agreed.”

His hand reached up to brush his tongue along my bottom lip. “Thirsty?”

“Yes, please”

With a gentle pat on my thigh, I climbed off of Noah and climbed underneath the blanket and black sheets while he slipped on his briefs before leaving the room. I heard rummaging around in the kitchen.

I quickly glanced at my phone to notice a missed text from Malcolm and a few from the Hollow Souls group chat.

Malcolm: Don’t worry. I’ll feed Salem tonight and in the morning. Have fun and be safe. We love you, sweets.

With a fond smile, I replied to him before clicking on the Hollow Omens text thread.

Chase: Jolly, where are you? If you guys need a ride to our place, we’re out front.

Nicholas: He’s coming. Jesse and Michael got caught up with an old friend.

Michael: Hey, what are the chances we can swing by home to grab some extra clothes?

Jesse: Unless you want to walk into something you can’t unsee, I’d suggest against it.

Jolly: Has anyone checked to see if Noah and Y/N made it home safely?

Folio: I don’t think they’re too worried about their phones right now.

I snorted a chuckle before responding.

Me: Hi, friends. Noah and I made it home safely. Whoever sleeps in my room, make yourself at home! Just don’t look under the bed 😉

Not bothering to wait for a reply, I locked my phone and set it down on the nightstand next to the bed just as Noah returned with two glasses of water and a pack of chocolate chip cookies.

My eyes lit up. “Oh, yes! It’s like you read my mind.”

“Just a little bedtime snack,” Noah winked while handing me the water and a few cookies.

“I’m surprised you’re letting me eat in your bed,” I mumbled over a bite of cookie.

He settled himself next to me. “You’re the only exception because this would typically be a no.”

Waving him off, I finished the cookies then washed them down with half of the water and settled into bed while Noah browsed for a show to watch on the televisions. As I traced my gaze over every inch of him, studying him, I noticed something on his back.

My hand gently pushed his shoulder forward. “Woah. When did you get this?”

I traced the ink that covered the entirety of his back. It was just an outline of Jesus with the crown of thorns. There was some kind of border around it, a flower and leaves on each of his shoulder blades along with his lower back. Beneath Jesus, was a heart with barbed wire around it, a flame cross emanating from the top of it.

“I got it done a few weeks ago,” Noah answered, shivering underneath my touch as goosebumps rose to his skin.

I hummed a kiss into his back. “I never took you as the religious type.”

“I find religious art beautiful,” He leaned down to brush his lips over mine, a kiss I eagerly returned. “Besides, I don’t need God, no religion. Just you.”

After shutting off the lights and settling on a random movie, we cuddled deeper into the comforts of the bed, my head resting on his chest with my leg wrapped around his hips. Noah’s hand dragged up and down my back and I sighed in pure bliss.

He held me gently as if he were holding a flower and I wished we could have stayed like this forever.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” I mumbled my thoughts out loud.

“We can if you want,” he offered while leaving a kiss on the top of my head.

“We have to leave this room at some point,” I poked him.

Noah chuckled, it rumbling underneath my cheek on his chest. “True, but it’s not the room I was talking about.”

Gazing up at him, I cupped his cheek. “You’re already my forever, Noah. I learned that a long fucking time ago.”

He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “Are you okay if we sleep together?”

I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice so I sat up in bed, the sheet falling from my naked form. “I’m staying, Noah. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you. There is nowhere else I belong, nowhere.”

Noah dragged his hands over his face to muffle the faint sound of a sniffle. Gently, I pulled his hands away from his face and noticed a faint tear roll down his cheek.

“Noah, why are you crying? I’m right here. This is you and me, right?”

He sniffled again but cleared his throat soon after. “I guess after all this time, it still sort of doesn’t feel real.”

I nodded while pulling my knees to my chest, resting my chin upon them. “I can understand that, I feel that way too. But it is real. It’s you and me. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I love you.”

“I love you,” he sat up in bed to kiss me. “It’s you and me, angel.”

“Have any clothes for me to borrow?” I asked while biting my lip.

As much as I loved feeling his bare skin on mine, I could not sleep naked.

Noah motioned to the closet. “Help yourself to whatever. What’s mine is yours.”

Hopping off the bed, I scurried into the closet to scavenge through his drawers, not trying to gawk at the size of the closet. After deciding on his Naruto eating noodles shirt and gray joggers, I stepped back into the bedroom.

“Are you wearing my joggers and shirt?” Noah stifled a laugh.

“You said help yourself, so I did,” I smirked while hopping back into bed.

“Angel, I have to say you look ravishing in my clothes even if you look like a fucking pipsqueak in them.”

“It’s not my fault you’re fucking giant! I had to roll up the joggers three times!” I defended while pushing his shoulder.

Noah raised a brow before rolling on top of me, pinning my hands above my head with one of his while the other ghosted over my side. Immediately I knew what he was going to do.

“Don’t,” I warned. “I can’t be held liable for what happens if you tickle me.”

He narrowed his eyes, thinking it over, before he instead plopped down next to me, resting his head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him to drag my fingers through his hair.

“This was all I wanted,” Noah admitted after a long beat of silence, wrapping his arms around me to pull himself closer.

“Me too, mochi. I feel like I’m home,” I admitted, eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

I yawned, which made Noah turn the television off before returning to his position of being the little spoon.

“You are home, angel. Wherever I am is your home.”

NOAH

Leaning on my elbow, I gazed down at the sleeping form of Y/N, soft snores falling from her lips as her hair was covering her face. I brushed it away with soft fingers and let my mind wander to last night.

She was here. She was with me, in my bed, and had no intention of leaving. For so long I’ve wanted this, dreamed of it, and now that it's actually true, my anxiety kept trying to tell me that she would end up slipping between my fingers.

My breathing suddenly became erratic, feeling as if someone had their claws sunk deep in my lungs, and white spots danced at the edge of my vision.

Shit. Shit. Not now.

Making sure Y/N was still asleep, I slipped out from beneath the covers and stepped into a pair of shorts and grabbed my phone on my way out the patio doors of my bedroom. The fresh scent of the morning dew that covered the grass filled my nostrils as I did my best to take deep breaths.

I sat cross legged on the deck and with the Calm app open on my phone, I let the familiar sounds of one I usually opted for sink deep within me. My eyes shut as I took countless deep breaths.

Deep breath in. Hold for four seconds. Out for two seconds.

I envisioned Y/N’s soft features of her face. Her bright eyes as I drowned in the color of them. The faint freckles that seemed to over cover her nose. The slight dip between her upper lip. The one dimple on her left cheek that was always prominent whenever she smiled.

Fuck, her smile was one that could light up a room. It was one that made all your problems go away when you gazed upon it.

Holding her in my arms is more natural to me than my own heartbeat. Even now, when I’m sitting here, I think about her. I think about her all the time. Some may say that we’re too young, I just know deep inside the flesh of me, there could never be another.

I was so entranced in my meditation that I didn’t hear the sliding glass door open until two arms wrapped around my neck from behind, soft lips pressing kisses to my cheek.

“Good morning, mochi,” Y/N’s angelic voice sang in my ears.

I grasped her arm with a sigh and opened one eye to peek over at her. “Morning, angel.”

This is real. This is my new routine.

She fell into my lap, locking her arms behind my neck again and kissed me. My hands rested on her hips to keep her within my embrace, not wanting to let her go any time soon.

“Did you sleep okay?” She asked.

I nodded and lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

“I must say you outdid yourself with that bed. Perfect amount of pillows and the sheets are comfortable,” Y/N mused while playing with the ends of my hair.

“Only the best for you, angel,” I smugly smiled. “But listen, there’s something I want to bring up.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “This weekend, I want us to have our first official date.”

Her eyes lit up. “Noah, I’d love that. But I just need to make sure to check my schedule.”

“Nope, already taking care of,” I snaked my hand underneath her shirt to graze over the soft skin of her back. “Malcolm and Chase said that you have nothing planned. So this weekend, you’re all mine.”

“I’m always yours, Noah,” she promised with a kiss to the side of my mouth.

With my heart solely in her hands now, I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

“Yes you are.”

Our lips met in a gentle, slow kiss, but when Y/N adjusted herself to fully straddle my lap, I forced my tongue into her mouth and tasted all of her. My nails dug into the skin of her back to hold her closer to me and when she rutted her hips into me, I could feel the heat from her core brush against my hard cock.

I needed her so badly, in any way I could. But for now, I simply enjoyed having her grind against my lap as we sat on the deck, lips attaching to one another. The sun broke through the clouds to warm our already heated skin and with her body on mine and the sound of the running water of the creek, it lulled me into a state of peace that the Calm app couldn’t do for me earlier.

“I love you,” her teeth grazed over my bottom lip.

I grasped the side of her neck, thumb locked on her chin. “I love you too, angel.”

Our tongues began another fight for dominance, her winning this round again, but I never would complain. Y/N could do whatever she wanted with me and I’d still worship the ground she walked on.

“Noah,” she whined, rubbing her pussy over my cock, the thin material of our clothes still causing a barrier between us.

“What do you want, Y/N?” I demanded while nipping at the skin of her neck.

“You,” she gasped when my fingers slipped inside the waistband of her pants.

Fuck, she was soaking wet. My fingers glided over her pussy, gathering her arousal to begin rubbing fast, short circles against her clit.

The sounds of birds singing their morning songs were drowned out by Y/N’s moans, resting her forehead against my bare shoulder, and she bucked into my hand.

“So wet,” I praised, still working fast on her clit.

“I’m so close.”

With her still in my embrace, I stood and carried her back into my bedroom, slowing my pace on her clit immensely.

“Noah,” she groaned. “Why’d you stop?”

Forcing her against the wall, I let Y/N wrap her legs around me just before I attacked her lips in a fever hungry kiss. Now it was me who won the battle for dominance and I forced my tongue into her mouth, ravaging her lips.

“I need to taste you again, Y/N. Need it on my lips,” I grunted while pushing us off the wall and over towards the bed.

Her giggles echoed loudly in the room as she bounced and I jumped on after her.

JOLLY

With a big yawn, I walked into the house with Jesse and Michael close behind. We all spent the night at Chase and Malcolm’s place but now that it was nearing mid morning, we decided it was safe to come back home.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Michael groaned as he rummaged in the fridge, “But I need another couple hours of sleep.”

I snorted my laughter. “What, did Salem keep you up all night?”

“I don’t understand how that little dude has all that energy. Running up and down their long hallway all night. I swore you’d think they had a pet horse,” he exasperated.

Jesse went to say something but he quickly pointed to the kitchen window. “Look.”

We did and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Y/N was sitting on one of the patio chairs with a blanket wrapped around her and a book in her lap. I peered down the hallway where Noah’s bedroom was just as he stepped out, dressed in a pair of black shorts and his Hereditary sweater. Water still clung to his hair as he stepped out into the living room.

“Oh, hey. When did you guys get back?” He asked.

Sharing a glance with the others, all three of us wrapped Noah in a large group hug, finally happy that all the bullshit the last few months was finally worth it.

“Alright, alright,” Noah pushed us away when Jesse began ruffling his hair.

“She looks peaceful out there, I’d say what you were so worried about resolved itself,” Jesse chuckled at first.

He sat on the couch to put on his white socks then white vans. “Yeah. We had a good night. Are you guys cool if she stays?”

I grasped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You know we’re more than okay with that. She’s welcome here anytime, Noah.”

Just then, the sliding glass door in the kitchen opened as Y/N stepped through, wearing Noah’s clothes, and gave us all a warm smile.

“Hi!” She cheered. “I was thinking about making some breakfast if you guys are hungry.”

Just then a thought crossed my mind and I ran a hand through my hair. “Actually, I was thinking we could go out for breakfast. I know this great place.”

Noah chuckled while rising from the couch and immediately pulling Y/N into his arms, leaving a kiss to the side of her head.

“Any reason why you want to go there?” He teased me.

I narrowed my eyes as Y/N smacked his chest. “Noah, be nice. But I’d love that! I just need to run home quickly and I can meet you there!”

Michael tossed her her car keys since he drove it over here for her. “Count me out. Your cat kept me up all night with his galloping and biting my toes.”

“Oh, you leave my baby alone,” Y/N pointed a finger at him as he began walking up stairs to his bedroom.

“I’m in,” Jesse smiled. “Give me a little bit to change.

When it was now the three of us, I couldn't help but watch with a smile as Noah walked Y/N to the door, muttering something low in her ear, a red hue creeping across her cheeks.

“I love you, angel,” he brushed a kiss across her forehead.

She grasped his sides, leaning into the kiss. “I love you too, mochi.”

They were not the same people they were when they met. They’ve changed, they’ve grown.

I felt joyous, for this reunion. This is proof that love can exist. The sun has long since risen, the thief of night would come quickly. I stared at my friends, who desperately could not disconnect. I was just so glad. I smiled with a crinkling mouth, and pure heat enveloped my heart for them.

I began to wander in the corner of my own daydream. I couldn’t wait to live a lifetime in these last remaining moments of my own.

Her face came into my mind.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #tina and sarah talks

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