#bad omens au

[darksigns-exe]

i put a spell on you - incubus!noah x f!reader

warnings: Alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected intercourse, implied manipulation/coercion, reader doesn’t entirely act on their own will (but is unaware of it?), non-human anatomy, slight size kink, kinda dom-ish Noah (look at me switching things up)

word count: 3.5k

note: Our boy is an incubus in this. He’s a manipulative little bitch out for one thing and one thing only. Don’t let yourself be manipulated into anything

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You’re a little wary of your friend's proposition. On one hand, you know that getting out of the house would be good for you. On the other, you’d rather remain buried under a mountain of blankets to keep wallowing in your self-pity. In the end, your friends win, and you begrudgingly get ready for a night out with them. All the while, you keep telling yourself that it will be good for you. Really, you’ve been isolating yourself for long enough now. 

The dress you’d gone for makes you feel a little exposed, but once you’re a few drinks in it’ll be alright.

You have a brief moment of insecurity when you first leave the house, but once one of your friends loops her arm around yours, it only feels half as bad. And as soon as you’ve entered the first part of the evening, you feel almost as good as new. The music, the drinks, the easy company of your friends – it all washes away the heartache of the last few weeks. 

Your group of six hops across various bars for a few hours before eventually finding your way into one of the fancier clubs in your city. The entry fee is steep enough to make you reconsider, but one of your friends is adamant that it will be fun and that she would cover everyone to celebrate your re-entry into society. 

Not even fifteen minutes into your visit that people start offering you drinks. You accept some of them, always making sure that you can see what is ordered and that it’s handed directly to you. One of the people offering to buy you a drink ends up with their number saved in your phone, although you don’t know if you’ll ever end up texting them. 

One of your friends drags you back onto the dance floor shortly after that. You spend some time dancing with your friend and for the first time in weeks you don’t feel the constant cloud of darkness over your head. 

And then you spot him. 

The moment feels like something out of a film. The people in front of you part, revealing his tall stature to you. His skin is littered with tattoos, intricate lines that cover most – if not all – of the skin that is visible to you. Best you can tell, he is looking directly at you, fixing you with an intensity that it’s almost terrifying. You feel yourself drawn to him, moving through the crowd as if set on rails. 

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention away from him. The worried look on your friend's face seemingly distracts you long enough for the man to slip away. At least he’s nowhere to be seen when you turn around a moment later. 

Your attention is quickly grasped by your friend dragging you to a different part of the club and as quickly as you had been entranced by the stranger he had already slipped from your mind again. 

Eventually, your group decides to move into a quieter location, and you exchange the club for a slightly dingy bar. The music's good and the drinks don’t cost an arm and a leg, so you can’t exactly complain. 

You're on your way back to your table when you spot him again. This time he’s posted up in a booth not too far from your own, already watching you when your eyes find him. You chance a glance towards your table and find your friends wrapped up in a conversation — surely they won’t notice if you slip away for a moment. 

The stranger is still looking at you when you turn back to him. There's a strange curiosity on his face, almost as if he’s trying to decipher your thoughts. You're not sure if you would have approached him under normal circumstances, but at this point your curiosity is piqued, and you can’t possibly stay away from him. 

“I saw you at the club. Earlier.” You say somewhat flatly, hoping that it doesn’t sound as if you’re trying to accuse him of anything. 

“You did.” He counters, “It seems that we both got distracted. But as fate would have it, we’re in the same place once again.”

He motions for you to sit, and you slide into the seat opposite him. He tells you that his name is Noah, and in return, you tell him your name. 

Noah practically lounges in his seat, arm extended across the backrest, in order to take up as much space as possible. As if his large frame doesn’t already command your attention. 

He’s unashamed in the way he flirts with you. And his intentions are more than clear. Noah offers to buy another round of drinks, and when he returns he slides into the seat next to you, instead of his previous place. He keeps a comfortable distance, but you just can’t stop yourself from getting closer to him. And you soon find yourself somewhat cornered by him. 

The heat that radiates off his body is almost overwhelming. He’s so terribly close to you, fingers trailing across your bare knee, just barely. 

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks after a while, “I’ve had my eye on you since I saw you in that club. Never seen a prettier thing than you, angel.”

You feel your cheeks heat at that. 

He lets out an amused little sound, “Well aren’t you the sweetest thing, blushing so easily. I wonder are you always this reactive?”

His hand wanders up your leg, slowly and carefully drifting higher until your dress prohibits him from going further. 

Your chest feels so awfully tight already. He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath brushing against your skin. 

You’re not usually one for quick one-night things like this, but right now you’d let him do just about anything to you. Maybe it’s the break-up, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had, but you cannot bring yourself to worry about the potential consequences of this. The need that has been slowly simmering beneath your skin is threatening to bubble over. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt a need like this – if you’ve ever even felt like this before. 

“Do you want to find out?” you find yourself asking. 

You’re not entirely sure where this confidence is coming from all of a sudden. Earlier today, you had still buried yourself under a mountain of blankets and feelings, and now you’re asking a practical stranger if he wants to hook up with you. 

“Well, well – how about this, angel, I’m going to head to the restroom, and you follow me in a moment. We don’t want to be too obvious now, do we?” Noah speaks quietly, fingers still trailing against the skin of your thigh, “Don’t make me wait too long.” 

Noah squeezes your thigh briefly before slipping out of the booth. 

You watch as he passes your friend's table, shooting a wink to one of them before he rounds the corner towards the restroom. The idea that you’ll have to pass them on your way to him is a little mortifying, but the need to feel his hands on your body again outweighs any kind of shame that threatens to bubble over. 

You give it a few more moments before you follow him. Of course, one of your friends stops you, asking where you’ve been this entire time. And you know that the vague excuse you give shouldn’t be sufficient enough for them, but somehow your friends seem to be perfectly content with it. 

If you had been able to pay a little more attention to them, it would have struck you as odd, but with how single-minded your focus was right now you brush right past it. 

You follow the signs into the restrooms. One of the two doors has an out-of-order sign taped to it that you hadn’t noticed on your earlier trip, so you assume that this is where Noah is waiting for you. 

You try the handle and carefully push open the door. Noah is facing the mirror, seemingly focused on himself. 

The moment before he notices you, you swear that his shadow looked odd. It’s almost as if it extends further than it should. 

As soon as you step into the room, it seizes up, shrinking back into place. 

“There you are.” He muses, turning around to face you, “Come here, angel.”

You walk towards him, entranced by his presence. Something about him draws you in, lures you into his trap. And despite all of that, you can’t stop yourself from moving closer. 

His hand finds your waist as soon as you’re in touching distance. Noah draws you in close, and you swear that you can hear the pounding of your heart resonate around the tiled room. 

“There’s no need to be nervous.” he speaks with an almost devilish smile playing on his lips, “A kiss will make it better.” 

You’re sure that you can count the seconds until he finally kisses you. He’s surprisingly gentle, cradling your face with his other hand. The sweetness of the kiss quickly fades away through, as your own desperation begins to take over. His hand tangles into your hair, while the other grips your waist firmly. For a moment, you’re sure that you feel sharp points digging into your skin. The sensation fades quickly enough, though, and you disregard it in favour of the feeling of his lips travelling down the side of your neck.

Teeth scrape against your skin just barely, and the stinging is quickly soothed by another soft kiss. You let out a breathy noise when he leaves his mark on your skin. His breath fans out against your skin as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“You’re such a delight to play with, always so reactive.” he mutters against your skin. 

The wording should have struck you as odd, but your mind is already so full of him that you cannot question it. 

You finally gather the wits to let your hands wander across his body too. There’s a softness to him, despite the very evident muscle. A tenderness that hides beneath the lines of ink. The boxy shirt he wears hides most of his physique, but now that you can actually touch him, the size difference between you becomes even more obvious. 

“Turn around for me, angel.” he says then. 

You do as he asks, bracing your hands on the counter in front of you. Noah steps behind you, hands immediately finding your waist. He pulls you back against his body. He towers behind you, watching you quietly for a moment, before he leans down to press soft kisses along the side of your neck. Teeth graze against the bare skin of your shoulder. You gasp and his eyes shoot up to meet yours. Maybe it’s the light – or lack thereof – in this room, but they seem so much darker than they had previously appeared. 

One arm wraps around your middle, keeping you close to him, while the other snakes down the length of your body until his fingers find the hem of your dress. Your skin prickles at his touch, hairs standing up straight when he brushes the tips of his fingers against your thigh. You keep your eyes focused on his reflection, even though he is fixed entirely on you, watching every minute change on your face while his fingers climb higher and higher on your thigh. Eventually, his fingers reach their target, pressing into your centre. His fingers dip behind the waistband to touch you properly. The first brush of his finger against your clit draws a sigh from you, making you drop your head back against his shoulder. 

“Look at you, angel. So pretty, and I’ve barely even touched you.” he speaks lowly, “I wish we had more time. I would love to watch you unravel entirely.” 

As he speaks, his fingers continue to dive deeper, circling around your entrance so slowly. The angle is a little awkward, but his fingers already feel so good against you. 

The hand around your middle shoves the fabric of your dress upwards. 

You should feel so awfully exposed, but with the attention he gives you, you can’t quiet bring yourself to worry. 

You push back against him, feeling his hardened cock behind the layers of fabric.

“Feel what you do to me?” he groans. 

You push against him again, “Noah.”

“I know, angel. Won’t make you wait long.” he replies, “Let’s take these off, okay?”

His fingers let the waistband of your panties snap back against your skin. He carefully tugs the fabric down until you take over, stepping out of the pretty lacy things you pulled on just a few hours earlier in an attempt to boost your confidence. As soon as you’ve placed your panties on the counter, Noah’s hand shoots forward to pocket them. 

“A little souvenir.” he answers the unasked question lingering between you, “Unless you want these back.” 

You shake your head, “I’ll pick them up some time.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “Confident. I like it.” 

He makes quick work of you after that. Before long, two of his fingers slip inside of you, working in and out of your pussy so diligently. Every thrust makes you whine and moan. And it doesn’t take much for you to feel close to your climax. Noah seems to find great delight in your pleasure, whispering the filthiest things into your ear. And when you finally feel yourself come undone around his fingers, his free hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at your own reflection. The high he gives you fills your head with even more cotton. 

You still feel so wound up. 

Noah’s chest presses against your back. His body feels impossibly warm against yours, even through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you. 

“Ready for more?” he asks, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. 

You nod, “I would hope that this wasn’t it.” 

He smiles at you through the mirror, “Hands on the counter, angel.”

You do as he asks, bracing yourself on the surface below. He pulls your waist back, forcing you to take a step away from the counter. With how you’re positioned, you can’t quite see what he’s doing, but you can hear the tell-tale sound of a zip being pulled down. 

You watch as his face changes when he finally wraps a hand around his cock, sighing out with relief. His head drops back for a moment. The near blissed out look on his face is absolutely gorgeous. 

His hand soon returns to your waist, carefully shifting the fabric of your dress up above your hips. The longer, slender fingers return to your centre, playing with your folds for a moment before he pushes his thumb through your wetness. 

“Ready?” 

His voice doesn’t sound nearly as affected as you’d think with how he looked a moment ago. 

You give another nod and a moment later you feel the head of his cock dragging along your pussy. You hold your breath when you feel it catch at your entrance. When you’d expected to feel some kind of sting or stretch, the sensation never comes. Instead, all you feel is near overwhelming pleasure. 

When he’s fully seated inside of you, Noah wraps his arm around your middle once again. The first pull out of you draws a whine from your throat. 

The pace Noah sets is dizzying. 

Your combined moans echo throughout the room, setting a perfect soundtrack for what you’re doing. 

You try your best to keep your focus on the mirror, but the longer he pounds into you. The filth he whispers against your skin drives you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Feel so good, angel. Feels like you were made for me.” he groans, pressing a kiss to the joint of your neck and shoulder, “Look at yourself. Such a beautiful little thing.”

Keeping your eyes open has become somewhat difficult by now. Really, even lifting your head doesn’t seem too appealing. 

Noah seems to be intent on making you look at your reflection, though, as he once again tilts your head towards the mirror. The angle of his hand doesn’t allow you a lot of movement, forcing you to keep your eyes on the both of you. 

Maybe it’s your pleasure riddled mind, but something about his reflection seems off. His figure seems fuzzy, larger than it should be. A particularly harsh thrust into you takes your attention off it quickly enough, though. 

Noah’s free hand finds its way back to your centre, fingers settling into a quick circular motion across your clit. He’s merciless with it, pushing you towards your climax in no time.

He barely gives you time to catch your breath, though, before he pulls out of you and urges you to turn around. With a leg hiked up around his waist, he pushes back into you. Your hands grip into his body, trying to find purchase while he fucks you. 

“Take it so well, angel. Such a good girl for me.” he whispers, still not sounding very affected. 

You would expect him to sound somewhat worn down by now, but he still seems so collected. A thin sheen of sweat lines his forehead, but that seems to be the extent of his exhaustion. 

He dips down, to suck a few more marks into the skin of your neck. Teeth occasionally grazing against your skin. You tangle one of your hands into his hair, keeping him exactly there. 

His movements have slowed considerably though, coming to more of a grind than the previous hard thrusts. 

You’re reduced to gasps by now, unable to really articulate how he makes you feel. Noah lets out a moan when you tug on his hair particularly harshly. 

“You’ll ruin me, darling.” he speaks, lifting himself from your skin. 

What you see shakes you to your core. 

There’s an odd tint to his skin and when you’d previously thought that you had imagined the darkened colour of his eyes, you’re now sure that they’re pitch black. You try not to let him notice that something is off. And truly, it doesn’t disturb you half as much as it should. 

Whatever he is, it’s clearly not human. 

“See angel, can’t even keep up my magic around you.” he lets out with a breathy laugh, “Have me completely entranced.” 

Your fingers brush across the skin of his cheek, revealing a faint net of veins beneath his skin. The change doesn’t make him less beautiful. In fact, you think that it somehow makes him even more beautiful. 

“I’m so close.” you choke out, feeling more and more breathless by the minute. 

“I know – I know, angel. Let me feel you for just a while longer.” he returns, finally sounding somewhat worn down. 

Noah’s pace picks up after that, as he chases his own high and in turn drags you closer to yours. 

When it hits you this time, the world goes silent for a moment. You feel him spilling inside of you, feel his hand tightening around your waist as he lets out the most gorgeous sounds. 

Eventually, his head drops to your shoulder. When he lifts it again a moment later, his appearance has returned to what you had seen of him before. His skin has returned to its healthy – human – colour, and his eyes are no longer pitch black voids. Noah drags in a deep breath, as he releases you from his hold. It takes you another moment to gather your wits again. You can’t quite tell which part of this has affected you more, either way you’re not sure if you can go without it again. 

“No one has ever made me lose control of myself like that, angel.” he admits with a wicked little smile playing on his lips. 

“There’s a first time for everything. I’ve never had sex with a –”

“Incubus.” he adds quietly, as if he is unsure of how you will react.

“See. New experiences for everyone tonight.” 

You still feel a little rattled by the whole thing, and you’re sure that the reality of it will hit you once you’re alone in your apartment again. But right now, you feel as confident as you haven’t in ages. 

He laughs at that, shaking his head gently, “How about another new experience. I don’t usually do repeat encounters, but for you, I’m willing to break my own rules.” 

You had parted without exchanging numbers or any way to get into contact that night. And with every week that passed, your hopes of seeing him again dwindled. It isn’t until almost a month later, when the first autumn storm of the season rages through your city, that your nose is filled with the scent of sulphur and what you recognise to be the cologne he wore that night. 

Perhaps you should have known that a demon wouldn’t need your last name to find you again. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play (Hockeyplayer!Noah AU) Masterpost

Tropes and tags: hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, PinV, public adjacent sex, rough sex, minor cnc dynamics, multiple POV, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, aggressive hockey players, possessive male, protective male.

Author's Note: Please note although this uses real people’s faces and likeness in an AU writing it does NOT in any way reflect the person specifically. I cannot stress enough how upset it will make me to find my work shared on other platforms, including ones that the band has direct access to. This is fan-fiction and if we want nice things, follow the rules. Also, I realize his last name is Davis, however, for the sake of the story and the fact that I like the name Sebastian so much it is the name we will be using for his surname. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 //

Fanclub: @tearfallpixie @ladyveronikawrites @beaker1636 @missduffsblog @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @rumoured-whispers @sorrowsofsilence @sundamariis @letmeadoreyoux @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @mysticdoodlez @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @somebodyels3 @flowery-mess

[artificialbreezy]

i’d love to introduce you to The Royal Oath!

a big thank you to @thefallennightmare for the support and listening to me ramble and helping me when i’m so indecisive. you’re a saint.

Prince!Noah x Roisin (princess!ofc)

When the war between The Kingdoms of Sunstone and Shadowfell came to an end, a promise of marriage was made. When both kingdoms produced only heirs, the first princess from Sunstone was a celebration of becoming debt free. What happens when the princess learns of her duty? Will she accept happily? Or will the treaty be destroyed?

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior masterpost

Pairing: samurai!noah x princess!reader ⚔️

            Summary: Samurais are bound by an oath to sacrifice their lives for their masters, if required. Among the Daimyos, the Shoguns stand as the most powerful masters, with Noah’s being a prominent military leader. 

            Noah’s predicament arises when he becomes embroiled in a forbidden love affair with the Shogun’s daughter. Unable to resist the allure, he finds himself entangled in a passion that is sure to bring forth inevitable consequences.

— General trigger warnings: this is a forbidden romance story. this work contains mentions of arranged marriages, graphic scenes of violence (including descriptions of blood, mentions of suicide, one mention of suggested abortion), talks of pregnancy, explicit sexual content, and talks and scenarios describing shibari practices (rope play).

main storyline

part one — part two — part three — part four — part five — part six — part seven — part eight — part nine — epilogue one — epilogue two

additional one shots

the first time | let me worship you

[aplaceinthedark]

ANYTHING > HUMAN

Summary: A friend calls on Noah to say goodbye

Word Count: 15.8k

CW: Main content warnings: Supernatural themes, Loss of parental figure/guardian, gun/weapon violence, mild mind-control, brainwashing, kidnapping, racism, Enemies to lovers to Enemies, Mind Fuckery (unreliable Narrator), attempted drowning, Bad People getting Thanos- Snapped, body disfiguration (third-degree? burns) House Fire, Character Death, Graphic Depiction of an Autopsy. Sexual content Warnings: Oral (Fem receiving), teasing, fingering, implied squirting, implied overstimulation, intentional marking (Noah likes to leave mementos), size kink if you squint, Protected PnV, Unprotected PnV, a position might be anatomically incorrect.

A/N: This is RPF, and thus contains real people, but events have been changed. Other than the Bad Omens crew, names and looks have been charged, and any likeness to actual real people is coincidental. I do not write real people's trauma in my fanfiction. If this does not sit well with you, then please press the back button and leave in peace.

Dividers by @astrumaur and @saradika-graphics

THREAT ENTITY DATABASE ENTRY

THREAT ID: P K LTE-2995-CHESHIREMORPH-PURPLE “ANYTHING > HUMAN”

AUTHORIZED RESPONSE LEVEL: 1 (Minimal Threat) 5 (Immediate Threat) N/A (Liquidated, File Archived)

DESCRIPTION: Subject was a Caucasian female approximately twenty-six (26) years of age and a Type Purple (Subtype Phase IV) Threat Entity. Subject once worked for the Universal Paranatural Alliance as a Security Level 4 PSYCHE Researcher for the Department of Ontokinetics.

LIQUIDATION PROCEDURES: Due to Concealment concerns, liquidation authorization at Response Level 5 was given on 8/14/24. Subject evaded all strike task forces for three months.

On 10/31/24, subject broke into ATT-5292-Templum-Alexandria. Director of Site Security and Strike Task Forces, Colonel Sumerian, signed off on a one man mission to eliminate the target, sending in STF Theta-777 Team Commander Agent SAMHAIN.

Subject successfully liquidated on 10/31/24 by Agent SAMHAIN.

>CONTINUE?

I dream in Hell and wake up screaming, wishing that I was someone else…

He twists and bucks against the hand that holds him under the water that devours him. He knows it isn’t really water, that it’s something much worse, but right now, that’s all it feels like. It’s something worse than the hoarfrost that coats his being. He normally enjoys the cold when he can wrap up in hoodies and blankets, but when he’s as naked as the day he was born, the cold isn’t very enjoyable. And this cold…

There’s no warmth that could banish this cold away.

The Empty, he had heard them call it. It didn’t feel empty. The… Not-Water pressed against his skin. There was no beginning, no end. Just… Not-Water. Normally he would have a better idea as to what he could describe what he was drowning in, but the cold and lack of oxygen was depriving his brain of any function other than live.

His lungs finally give up the fight and he gasps for air, but instead gets a mouthful of the Not-Water. Now he can finally think of a better descriptor for it: the Burning. Because the Burning spreads through his body like lava, slow and painful and unbearably hot, and it’s so heavy that it weighs him down, so he sinks into forever.

The Burning spreads through his veins, boiling the blood in them until it evaporates. He opens his mouth to scream in agony, but the vacuum of the realm steals the sound from his lungs. Any air he had left escapes in the bubbles that leave his mouth, and more Burning enters his lungs this time, collapsing them with a familiarity that he knows all too well.

He thrashes in the darkness, not content to die like this. He seeks out the entity that had pushed and held him under the surface so he can seek retribution; so he can grab a hold of them and either pull himself out or pull them in to suffer with him. Except there’s no hand to bite. It’s just nothingness above him; nothingness below him, nothingness around him. He’s all alone.

Only a single thought crosses his mind; Was this how she felt?

And that crystallizing clear thought finally makes him panic.

Noah opens his mouth to scream again, his body wrenching upwards hard enough that he feels like he might’ve pulled a muscle in his stomach. This time the sound travels. He opens his eyes and frantically casts his gaze around.

He’s no longer in the Empty. He’s in his home in Cooper’s Rock. And like the past several months, he’s alone.

He takes in a long, shaky breath that is thankfully free of liquid, but the air still burns as it goes down his raw throat. He collapses back onto his bed, cursing and rubbing his face. He must’ve been screaming or something like that in his sleep again.

Again. He’s had this nightmare for several months now. And it’s starting to drive him insane.

He’s startled when his phone rings, splitting the silence with its shrill tone. He kicks at the sweat-soaked sheets that are tangled and twisted around his naked legs, gives up when he only manages to get them down to his ankles. He grabs his phone and presses it to his ear.

Though he knows what the phone call has to be about when he sees the caller ID, he still snaps. “What?!” Like the caller had woken him up from a deep sleep. As if that were possible for him these days.

“There’s been a breach at the Site.”

Noah sighs at the tone of the Director Site Security’s voice. His nightmare is still haunting him when he asks, “It’s her, isn’t it?” with no preamble.

“I don’t know what manner of—”

His grip on the phone tightens as well as his free hand in the sheets. “You wouldn’t be calling me at three in the morning if it wasn’t her,” Noah snaps. He then lets out the tension that has formed in the past minute. It comes out as a huff. “Me and the team will be there in fifteen.”

“Make it ten.” The line goes dead.

Time to go to work.

Noah Sebastian does not take threats quietly. The last time he did, the man he called father was killed in the explosion that took his house. Since then, Noah jumped feet first into every Threat Engagement he was assigned to. He would not – could not – lose another loved one.

But he had never prepared to face the fact that a loved one might become one of those Threat Engagements.

The night shift had her confined to one wing of the library on Level 3 of the Site. The only reason they hadn’t completely rounded her up was due to the shield of ultraviolet light that encompassed her and a small section of the shelves. Any who attempted to breach the light was met with a harsh heat that melted through their Titan-Kevlar gloves. She wouldn’t take the shield down until they met her one demand.

And of course, her one demand was Noah.

What felt like the entire Site’s crew of Task Forces was on that level, and they all part like the sea when he passes through. He can feel their eyes on him as he’s briefed. He rolls his eyes before lighting his hand and letting it hover close to the blue-violet light. “It’s me,” he calls out. “I’m here, like you asked.”

The light flickers in acknowledgement, and he presses his hand to the shield. It goes right through. He peers behind him one last time at his partner. Nicholas nods. Noah then turns back around, putting his helmet on, and walks through the shield.

Noah unholsters his service pistol and loads it with FUSCHIA-grade bullets. Normally, he liked to have his long-range rifle, but it would be useless coming face to face with her. Just in case, he had strapped his katana to his back.

This place had always been peaceful for him, despite being in the middle of Site-6. He tries to think of a plan on how to take this Threat Entity out, but all he could think about was the irony of ending it where it all began.

Noah finally finds her pacing back and forth in front of a shelf. He holds up his pistol and flicks the safety off. The sound causes her to halt, her back facing him.

“Turn around. Slowly,” he says. The figure holds up her hands, almost as in a surrender gesture, as she slowly turns around.

“Hello, Noah.”

“Hey, Mab,” he says, exhaling her name.

He catches a flash of light in her eyes, but before she could open her mouth, he fires a warning shot. It doesn’t even graze her shoulder, but she doesn’t react. She didn’t even attempt to stop it, either by catching it mid-air or stopping it dead in its tracks. She probably doesn’t even think he has it in him to kill her.

She was wrong.

“It’s been a while,” Mab says softly.

Noah gives her a quick glance over. She’s wearing the black tactical dress uniform he last saw her in; a uniform similar to what he was currently wearing. The knee-high boots, fitted pants, and tac vest over a long-sleeve turtleneck doesn’t hide that she seems to be thinner than last time. Her bright red hair pulled into a bun does nothing but accent the shadows under her eyes. She doesn’t look nearly as bad as how she looked back when they first met, but it was close.

If he could take a gamble on what she was going through, it was that she was as tired as he was. Not physically tired; Type Purples never got tired like that. She had to be mentally exhausted; tired of playing the game.

Maybe Noah could be the one to end it for her.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his pistol never lowering.

“I wanted to see you,” she says.

Internally, he rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just come over to the house if that’s all you wanted. You know, say hello to your old teammates? I’m pretty sure the cats miss you, too.”

He’s certain that the reason she hasn’t tried to show her face near their place, or Cooper’s Rock for that matter, was because of the uncertainty whether they might turn her in or not. And she has to know that he would do it in a heartbeat for what she did.

She makes a sound that confirms his theory. “Fine. Since you have me so well figured out, I came here to steal—”

“So what? You just decided to rejoin your old friends after what they did to you? Or are you starting a new cult since you killed the old one?” he asks bitterly.

Mab looks at him with outrage clearly written across her face. “I’m not stealing a book on behalf of that horrendous Serpent,” she hisses.

“Yeah, right. You really think the UPA would keep the Book of the Black in here? In an unrestricted section?’ Noah asks. Mab looks at him, shocked. “Oh, I know that’s what you would be looking for. It probably has Admin-level clearance after everything that went down.”

“Samhain, what’s your status?”

Matt’s voice in his commset was a welcome relief. He was probably worried about the sound of the gunshot.

Noah subvocalized back, “Crystal clear. Code Wraith.”

Matt’s answer was two small light-blips in the corner of Noah’s visor, and the small camera symbol designating that his helmet camera was broadcasting video feed to the higher-ups vanished. They’d be scrambling to turn it back on, which means he had ten minutes alone with Mab with no UPA hovering over the two of them.

He lowers his gun fully. Mab’s facial expression doesn't change, even as he lifts an empty, gloved hand out to her. “Come on, Firefly. It’s time to come home.”

The nickname only temporarily takes her off guard. Her eyes flick down to his outstretched hand and then back up to his visor. “It stopped being my home a while ago. We both know that.”

“Just… please, Mab. We can work something out if you would just turn yourself—”

“Turn myself into the people who want me dead?” she asks incredulously. “You and I both know that if I walk out of here with you, I’ll end up dead. Or worse, in a containment cell at the bottom of Site-1 with that thing for the rest of my life.”

I’m just trying to make this easier on you, Noah thinks as she takes in a deep breath to calm herself. He can hear the shake of it as she exhales, which makes him realize how close they are. A small part of him wishes he could comfort her like he used to, but he squashes the feeling immediately.

“Besides, I’m here to do the opposite.”

Noah lowers his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Noah, I can’t hide in Cooper’s Rock anymore. There’s only so much of the bubble left for the Spooks to comb over. I… I can’t stay,” she says, choking on the last word. Unlike him, she could never hide her emotions. Especially with him around.

“You were hiding in Cooper’s Rock this whole time? Where?” he asks. Her lips thin, but he continues. “They’re not watching. It’s just us, okay?’ Matt will delete the local storage before anyone can see this.”

“I don’t buy that for a second. And there’s others I need to protect,” she says.

His composure finally snaps at that. “Oh, you’ll protect your new buddies, but you won’t stay and protect us? Your family?” he shouts. He should keep his voice low, but his anger gets the best of him.

“What did the UPA tell you? That I killed all those people? That I went back to the Cult of Orobos after everything they did to me?” she asks. “The UPA went after me, Noah. They saw me as too much of a threat after I got shoved into the Empty. They were the ones who killed all those people in an attempt to kill me!”

Noah steels himself in case she goes Phase IV. “The UPA didn’t do that. Don’t try to manipulate me.”

Her face falls. “Really? You’ll believe them, but not me?’

“What does the UPA need to put the blame on you? Why would they lie?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The organization that has a history of lying to cover-up anomalies might be lying to cover up this anomaly?” she points at herself.

“Seriously, Mab? What are you trying to accomplish here? You wanted to see me; here I am.” He spreads his arms wide.

Hurt flashes across her face as her eyes flick between him and the area. “I’m not really seeing you,” she states. “Can’t you just take off your helmet?”

He knows he shouldn’t give in to her demands. The helmet was the only thing standing between her and him, the only thing stopping her from killing him instantly. He’s seen her do it, go into peoples’ minds and flick their light switch off. She might still love him, but what was stopping her from saving her own skin?

But he lets her get close to him. From this short distance, he can really see how hard the past several months have treated her. Her lilac-colored eyes don’t seem as bright as they used to be. Her skin seems pallid and sunken in. She really seems to be a shadow of her former self.

Her hands reach up and unbuckle the chin strap, and she lifts up the helmet. When it’s finally off his head, she lets it drop to the ground. He hears it hit with a dull thud as well as a crack as the visor breaks. Her fingers are soft against his skin as she pulls the cloth mask down to expose his face fully.

Steady…

Mab’s eyes scan Noah’s face, as if she was slowly memorizing his features one last time. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes shine with unshed tears, and he hates how he can’t say that his aren’t the same. Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and he can’t help the flutter of his eyelids before they close. He admits to himself that he missed her touch.

Steady…

“I’m so sorry.”

At those words, his eyes snap open. He sees her eyes flash. He can barely get out a shout before he’s blinded by a sharp stab of pain to the front of his brain, and his vision goes dark as his head fills with static.

The static leaves me in a catatonic peace. I want to finally sleep now.

She’s so thin.

That was the first thing Noah thought of when he could see all of her, which of course wasn’t a whole lot. And she’s tiny as well, probably a foot shorter than him. He couldn’t really tell all of this when she was up so high on the bookshelf.

He and Nicholas had heard a noise several minutes ago, and after losing a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, Noah had to go check. He had almost missed her at first, until he had the sense to look up. And there she was.

“Having fun up there?” he asked.

He knew he startled her. What he didn’t expect was that he did it so well that she would slip. He rushed to catch her. He was right; she did weigh nothing in his arms.

Then she opened her eyes.

Noah had been trained to not show emotions on the field, and he was glad of that. Because she had purple eyes. He was currently holding a Type Purple Threat Entity in his arms and for some reason, he wasn’t dead.

Yet.

“Hi, princess,” he said.

His words seemed to snap her out of her stupor, and she started trying to escape. He tried to maintain a tight grip on her, but it was like trying to grab water; she seemed to be able to slip out of his grasp every time he thought he had a sound hold on her.

It wasn’t until he had wrestled her to the ground, pinning her down with his full body weight, did he get his first real look at her. Besides her frail stature, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days, nor cleaned herself in as long. Her violet eyes seemed to swim with tears.

“Lemme go!” she hissed with a hint of fear lacing her words.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna let someone who’s broken into a secure facility g—”

That’s when the strangeness happened. The room seemed to darken around them, like the edges of his vision were going black. He thought he was about to pass out until the darkness almost… consumed her. Then it just… slipped out of his hands. She materialized a few feet away from him, the light coming back to him.

Luckily, he was still wearing his helmet, otherwise the girl would’ve seen his jaw drop. They both stared at each other in shock for a few seconds; he could’ve sworn that she was just as shocked as he was. But she recovered faster than he did, and she darted off with a swish of her long, red hair.

“Hey!” Noah yelped, getting to his feet and running after her. He wasn’t fast enough though, and as quickly as she appeared in his life, she disappeared.

But it certainly wasn’t the last time he saw her.

The next time was six months later, and it pretty much started and ended the same. He was just getting off duty and was handing security over to the next shift. Clocking in these long hours was rough, but if he wanted to be a part of his own task force, he had to do them.

Just as he was ready to go to the Site barracks and take a nap, he turned the corner around a bookshelf and saw her.

He learned his lesson from last time, though. He was unaware that he was behind her, so he snuck up on her. He threw one hand over her mouth, stifling her scream in his glove, and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He hauled her up, kicking and flailing, until he stumbled to an unoccupied room.

In the dim lighting, her eyes almost seemed to glow. He panicked for a second, because he had forgotten that she was a reality-bender and that she could probably warp him out of existence. But when that same light in her eyes died out, he realized something else.

She’s wasting away.

He felt something close to remorse for her, which is a really bad thing. There’s a reason why Type Purple Threat Anomalies are nicknamed Type Violent by Special GRAVE Agents.

Never talk to the target. Never look them in the eye. Never do anything that will allow yourself to humanize them. When the time comes to make the kill, you must be direct, forceful, and without mercy. Don’t do anything that will make that harder.

Except this anomaly seems like the polar opposite. She barely looks like she could hold herself up without collapsing.

He offered her an olive branch; a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, courtesy of his roommate. And despite the fact that she’s trapped in a room with someone who could most likely kill her or hand her over to authorities that could, she takes it.

“So, do you have a name?” Noah asked.

“Mab,” she answered, mouth still full.

Just Mab. It wasn’t even her real name. She couldn’t remember her life before five years ago; only flashes of a fire. She was brought to the Grey Library to recuperate, and in exchange for saving her life, she became an indentured servant to the Cult of Orobos. Their leader’s orders were the reason she was stealing from the Site-6 library.

Noah had had his own run-ins with the Cult, none of them pleasant. He knows they’re responsible for the death of his guardian when he was only fifteen. The UPA had standing orders to shoot them on sight. So that meant he’d violated two shoot-on-sight orders.

After the small interrogation, he offered to keep her in Cooper’s Rock, to save her from essentially killing herself to keep her “masters” happy. But the Cult has their claws too deep in her. Neither of them leaves that storage closet satisfied.

“Guess no more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for you,” Noah said, turning away from Mab.

He hadn’t even taken two steps when he was hit in the back of the head with something so hard, it knocked his helmet off. He whipped around, fury spitting from between his teeth. Her eyes met his, wide from shock and fear, and she turned and darted off. He looked down at the projectile.

A fucking book.

“So that went well,” his partner, Nicholas, joked from behind him.

Not too long after that meeting, she came to him this time. Mab’s just as hungry, but this time she was covered in bruises. She collapsed in his arms, and he had no choice but to bring her back to his dorm. Luckily the only one there was Nicholas, who just rolled with the fact that Noah was hiding a member of a terrorist organization in their cramped quarters.

“It’s only for tonight,” he told Nicholas. “I’ll figure out something in the morning.”

He had no idea how he was going to figure something out by tomorrow morning.

After she woke up and took a shower, he handed her a pair of Nicholas’ shorts and a shirt Noah hardly wore anymore: a simple white tee with a picture of Jesus Christ and Satan playing basketball. It swallowed her thin frame, and if it were anyone else, he would laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. But she looked so small and fragile he let it slide.

He learned that she’s a dreamer; she loves fantasy and fairy tales. She got her name from her favorite book. When he told her that he’s half-Sidhe Tumuli, an elven offshoot of the faeries, her whole face lit up. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the only things he inherited from his long-dead mother was his tall figure, thick hair, and dark eyes.

As far as Noah was concerned, he might as well be nothing more than human.

He didn’t have to wait until morning to figure out what to do with her, because the Cult raided the Site in the middle of the night to bring her back.

He followed her screams as they dragged her back to the Grey. It’s the only thing that gave him direction, because the Grey is a maze; a seemingly infinite space filled with every book ever written, to be written, and not thought to be written. If Mab wasn’t screaming her head off, he would have gotten lost instantly.

When he found her again, she was strapped to a table, cocooned in a blanket of her shadows while everyone around her was dead. He picked her up and cradled her close, despite the darkness around her chilling him to the bone.

Noah took her back to baseline reality, back to absolute hell. He was forced to hand her over to Site authorities, and she was taken to Level 2 to Research and Containment. And he’s sad because he knows he’ll never see her again.

Except he does.

After almost five years, he’s finally the commander of his own Strike Task Force. Theta-777, otherwise known as “Bad Omens.” He still served Site-6, but the team traveled around the world so much he’s hardly ever there. But no matter how many of the other Sites he saw, he found no trace of Mab.

It’s after the team loses another PSYCHE consultant to a Threat Anomaly in China that he saw her. Just her file, but it's enough. It’s after he stalled long enough that a PSYCHE consultant was assigned to the team without his approval, and he went through their file.

There, on his computer, is her picture, along with her title: RESEARCHER MAB GREY, PSYCHE CONSULTANT OF THE DEPARTMENT OF ONTOKINETICS. They’d hidden her in Site-2B for the past two years, working as a glorified secretary in the NExUS Records. But under him, she’ll be a reality-bender working for the Department of Tactical Theology.

If he was a believer, he’d say that it was fate that brought her back to him.

Later that month, he was on his way back to the United States from the temporary Area set up in the Prefecture, wrapping up the Research and Engagement of the anomaly that got her predecessor to retire early. He headed to the team’s office, where the AMITY Ambassador of the team, Joakim, is debriefing her. He’s nearly knocked over by the sight of her.

Mab no longer looked like she was on Death’s door. She filled out the PSYCHE uniform of a black coat that’s a mix between a lab coat and trench coat, but she’s foregone the pencil skirt in favor of black slacks. She cut her thick red hair to shoulder length, but right now she had it in a high bun.

Noah went over to envelope her in a hug, but stopped when he saw her facial expression. He was reminded of the adage “if looks could kill” because he’s certain that she could make it a reality.

He grew more and more confused as she treated the others formally, but she barely gave him the time of day. He even looked into having her reassigned at one point. A team can’t function properly if team members can’t work together. But the others insist that he let her warm up to him.

And the High Command denied his request, anyway.

Noah just needed to know why she hated him, then he could work with her. It was only after their first time alone together that he made any sort of headway.

Noah never understood why everyone in the UPA hated Type Purples. How they were portrayed in seminars seemed too… unreal. That they could rewrite reality, become gods if they wanted to, seemed too drastic. And after spending the past three months with Mab, who was afraid of the dark, he knew that people around here had nothing to be afraid of.

But when Mab had to take a trip out to Site-1 in London, and he had to accompany her – standard protocol – he learned that everyone’s hatred for Type Purples ran deeper than he thought possible.

Mab hadn’t been thrilled when she found out that he was her security detail. At Site-1, she could barely shake him off. “I don’t need a babysitter, Noah,” she said.

She actually did.

At the meeting she was summoned to London for, she was practically attacked on all sides. Noah was shocked at how Mab was treated, but she just waved off the insults and continued on. He could barely concentrate on anything that wasn’t her.

And then the universe threw another loop at him.

At the same meeting, before it had even started, several members of STF Alpha-1, the “FANTOM” Force, had filed in. They were the most prestigious task force in the UPA, meant to be bodyguards and enactors of the Administrator Council. If they were there, then an Admin was nearby.

But what threw Noah for a loop was when their team leader threw his arms around Mab. And she responded in kind. She practically lit up when she saw him. The two practically made Noah feel like a third wheel.

“Oh, Oli, this is Noah,” Mab finally introduced him.

Oliver was shocked to see him, like he had thought that Mab had made Noah up. “Look at that, you do exist.”

Noah tried pressing Mab about it after the meeting, but she had basically shut down. She only said that they met at Site-2, and nothing else. He was going to prod her more about it, but they were interrupted.

It wasn’t until they were back in the sleeping quarters they had been given for the weekend did he finally get to talk again. “You wanna talk about what happened out there?” Noah asked, closing the door behind him. He started unbuttoning his BLACK jacket; hers was already tossed over the back of a chair.

Mab opened her mouth, but then hesitated. For several moments, she seemed to contemplate what she was going to say next, until she closed her mouth and only said one word: “No.”

The simplicity of the denial nearly caused him to see red. Instead, he snorted in a way that he knew would annoy the ice queen. “Whatever you say, Princess.” The only inclination that he got under her skin was the way her jaw clenched.

Fine. Let her be that way. It irked him something fierce, even if he wouldn’t admit it – to her or to himself.

Except now he couldn’t sit still to save his life, and the room is way too small to contain the tension between them. So instead of trying to talk it out like how normal adults would, he escaped into the bathroom to take a shower.

He shed the rest of his BLACK uniform. The ink etched down the front of his upper half is stark against the backdrop of the white tile behind him when he looked in the mirror. He stared at his reflection as the water heated up, until the steam fogged up the mirror.

Once in the shower, he let the hot water hit his back to try to ease the tension that plagued him since that morning. He should be worried about Administrators being in the same Site; should be worried that he’ll make a fool out of himself in front of the wrong people. But all he was worried about was how Oliver could Make Mab smile, when he couldn’t even get her to look at him.

His mind continued to race, which didn’t help the knot in between his shoulder blades. He shut off the water before he passed out from heat stroke or whatever it was called. He toweled off and pulled on a clean pair of joggers before heading back out into the room.

Mab also must’ve changed while he was in the bathroom, but that wasn’t what made his feet come to a screeching halt. She was now wearing her hair down, while a large shirt swallowed her frame. He knew that shirt. He thought he lost it between Engagements – it wasn’t unlike him to forget something in New Mexico or Japan – but looking at it now he remembered the last time he saw it.

“Nice shirt,” Noah said before he could catch it.

Mab looked up from her book like she was surprised he was still in the room. He caught her look catch on his naked chest before she looked down at her shirt. “Uh… okay? It’s from my time at the Center, I think.”

Her response made his blood heat up. “’You think’?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I don’t remember exactly where I got it.”

Noah didn’t believe her. There was no way Mab “Remembers Every Line From ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’” Grey forgot where she got a shirt.

His feet moved him faster than his brain could stop him, and the next thing he knew was his fingers had plucked the book from hers.

“Hey! What’re you—”

“What are you reading?” he asked, thumbing through the pages.

“None of your business! You’ll make me lose my—” she seethed, reaching out for it.

“Oooh, is it a spicy book?” he asked as he stepped backwards out of her reach. He started to take a closer look at the words on the pages. “’Even in the grey moonlight, her eyes were the deep blue of a September sky. He’d known them to be blue before, but now they were like two brilliantly lit univer—’ OW!”

He had been so caught up in humiliating her, he hadn’t noticed she had jumped off her bed and was not practically climbing him.

He held the book high above his head. “Give. It. Back!” she growled, reaching for it.

“No. Not until you tell me how you and Agent Sykes know each other,” he blurted out.

His words made her halt. She slowly slid down until her feet hit the floor. “Why? Why are you so pressed about him?” she asked. “We hung out for like a week at Site-2. That’s it.”

That is NOT it, he thought. Her eyes narrowed, and he thought he actually said it out loud. She then rolled her eyes. “Fine. We had sex one time, for the love of—”

“I knew it.” He grinned widely. Her eyes widened at the ferality of his tone. An acidic feeling churned in his gut at her confession.

Of course she hooked up with the commander of the most prestigious strike task force in all of the UPA.

Mab shoved away from him finally, her book long forgotten. “So what? It was one time,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Only one time?” Noah asked, his voice coming out low. He dropped the book onto her bed, and the soft thump it made startled her, like it was a gunshot.

He watched her throat bob nervously. “Yes… one time,” she said. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“If it didn’t mean anything, why’d you do it?” he asked. He didn’t know why he was having this conversation, let alone having it this close to her. She must’ve thought so as well, because she tried to take a step back. She glanced behind her before nervously turning back to face him.

He was vaguely aware that the back of her knees were pressed against her bed. One push and she could’ve been spread out for him. His hand twitched up, almost betraying his intrusive thoughts, but he reeled himself back in.

“Noah—”

“No, we’re going to settle this now,” he said, gripping her arm. Something in his brain yelled at him that this wasn’t the way to do this, but he chose to ignore it. “Why do you hate me, after everything that happened?”

She blinked twice. “I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “Ever since you saw that I was your Commander, you’ve been anything but respectful to me. You can barely stand to be in the same room as me. After everything we’ve been through?”

Her head suddenly tilted. “What we’ve been through? We haven’t gone through anything. You might think you saved me by pulling me out of the Grey, but ever since then I’ve had to fend for myself in an organization that hates what I am,” she snapped. “You saw how they treated me at that meeting. Imagine that, but for the last five years.”

“Mab—”

“Some days I wondered if I really had escaped that Cult, because the UPA really likes to keep me on a leash as well. And at least in the Grey, the hand holding it didn’t want me dead!”

He watched a range of emotions cross her face. And then she delivered the stab to the gut. “Sometimes I wish you never rescued me! I wish you and I never met in the first place!”

Noah took a step back, whether it was from the hurt in her confession or to give her room to breathe, he couldn’t say. She swayed a little, like a reed in a sudden gust of wind, and he thought she was about to have a mental breakdown. But she straightened suddenly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She straightened the hem of her – his – shirt. She then spun on her heel, brushing past him to grab her shoes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I need some air,” she snapped, her voice cracking on the last word.

“Mab, it’s not safe—” he managed to say, but he was cut off by the door slamming closed.

He stood there for a moment, her words pulsing through him. He stewed in the regret and anger at himself for cornering her until she snapped. But he didn’t go after her. He stayed in the dorm, letting the guilt trickle in.

He was worried, still. He called her cell every five minutes. It wasn’t until after midnight that his phone rings, and it's her calling him. It was practically pressed to his ear before the first note ended. “Hello?”

“Noah—”

“Mab, where the fuck are you?” he asked in a rush. “I called you seven fucking times.”

He heard her sigh, and there was a few moments pause. He hated that she wasn’t in front of him, because he couldn’t hear her over the phone. Did he scare her with his questions? Is she thinking about what to say? Is she going to leave?

Is she going to leave him?

“Mab, where are you?” Noah asked again, softer this time.

There was more silence, and he had to check his phone to make sure the line was still connected. He almost missed her answer, it was so quiet. “I don’t know—”

“What do you mean—” His voice rose without him meaning to, but he reigned himself back in. “Describe your surroundings, Mab. Details.”

“Noah, it’s dark, it’s raining, and I’m sure I’ve never been in this part of the Site before,” she said.

“Come on, Mab. Use that beautiful brain of yours,” he said, pulling on a hoodie. He booted up the tracking program on his phone and inputed Mab’s code while she went into minute detail.

“Alright, I’m coming. Just for the love of fuck, don’t move.”

“Noah—”

Three quick beeps interrupted her, and her location suddenly disappeared from his screen. He swore. She probably didn’t have time to charge her phone after they got back from being in meetings all day long. She could use his EVE tracker mode, but there was no way Site-1 didn’t have a few Reality Anchors floating around somewhere. Without her phone online, she was basically invisible.

He pulled on his shoes and strapped on some easily concealable weapons, even though they’re on Site grounds. He knew there was at least one person that would love to see Mab dead, and he wouldn’t risk the chance of that guy finding her.

He grabbed another hoodie and an umbrella, and made his way outside.

He shouldn’t be surprised that London was cold at this time of the year. He definitely wasn’t surprised that it was raining. He was more surprised that the logical and overthinking Mab Grey would storm off in the middle of a rainstorm.

How bad did she want to be away from him that she was willing to walk into this deluge rather than be in the same room as him?

Noah had the entire walk to think about what he could say. But the whole time, he told himself that he was only out here looking for her because he’s supposed to be protecting her. Not because he was scared he could lose her.

Thirty minutes later, he finally spied the reality bender. Curled up on a bench, absolutely soaking wet, and looking miserable.

“Well, look at that. You can actually listen to instructions.”

Goddammit Noah, you fucking idiot.

She peered up at him with the ghost of annoyance, but he could tell she’d been crying. He started to feel bad until she opened her mouth. “Don’t get used to it,” she mumbled, barely audible over the sound of the storm.

“You gonna sit there all night or are you gonna come with me?” he asked.

She thankfully stood up, though not before letting him wait a few more moments. When she stepped into the dry space underneath the umbrella, he handed her the extra hoodie. She pulled it on, and it enveloped her. It fell below mid-thigh on her, leaving her legs bare.

As they walked back to their dorm, he noticed how she was trying hard to avoid touching him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and he could almost feel the vibrations of her shivering form. He shook his head, wrapping an arm around her. He expected some resistance, but she melted into his side.

For a few moments, he let himself wonder what they might look like if someone were to pass them. Two lovers taking a leisurely stroll through the paths of Site-1? Or something else?

Back in their room, he expected her to say something. Instead, she quietly sat down in the chair where her BLACK coat had been thrown onto. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting ready for bed. What’s it look like, Noah?” Mab snapped. Her fingers fumbled over her shoelaces, either from being cold and stiff, or from pure frustration. It might be a combination of the two, as it looked like she just made it worse when he saw the knots that she formed.

He looked up at her face. It had scrunched up, and he could see how her eyes shone. “Mab.” His voice cut through to her.

“What?” she snapped. She didn’t look up at him.

“Would you just calm down for a second?” Noah asked.

“I’m fine, okay?” she said.

“That was a rhetorical question, Firefly,” he said, crossing the room towards her in two strides. He kneeled down in front of her and gently brushed her fingers out of the way. She tried to pull her foot out of his grasp, but he gripped her ankle firmly, keeping it in place.

“Noah, I can take care of myself,” she protested.

“I know you can, but I didn’t ask you to, did I?” He slid that shoe off and started working on untying the other.

When he was done, he looked up at her to see that her gaze was rooted firmly to the ground. “Hey. Mab, look at me.” He reached up to put a finger under her chin, and tilted her face up. Her violet eyes casted downward, still avoiding him.

“Look at me, Firefly,” he said again. He brushed her cheekbone with his thumb, which passed through a wet patch. “Firefly…”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of the hoodie.

Noah gently tugged her forward out of the chair and cradled her. The sound she let out as she clutched a fist in his hoodie felt like an arrow had pierced him.     

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her wet hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. If I had known where they casted you off to, I would’ve been there to guide you. And I can do that now, Mab, but you gotta let me in.” He kissed the crown of her head. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”

She didn’t say anything. He let her shower and change into dry clothes, but she continued to wear his hoodie. He thought that it was a great start, that she’d warm up to him eventually, but when he settled down to finally sleep, she wordlessly crawled under the covers of his bed.

“Night, Mab,” he said, lips curling into a small smile.

“Good night, Noah,” she replied softly, barely audible, from her side of the bed.

Normally, Mab Grey was all sharp angles: sharp mind, sharp tongue; a habit learned when you’re an anomaly that worked for an organization that liquidates anomalies like you. But behind the curtain, she was all soft. Soft skin under Noah’s hands, soft breath against his feverish skin. He was the only one who got to see this side of her, and he reveled in it.

“Noah—” She breathed into the space between their mouths, before Noah encased her lips with his own and swallowed down the rest of her words.

They were always like this. A professional relationship at the Site, their feelings towards each other only known to those of Bad Omens they could trust. When it was just the two of them, they frantically tore at each other’s clothes. There hadn’t been a visit to her place that didn’t end up with the two having sex on some surface.

Mab straddled Noah’s hips as he leaned back on his hands. He wanted to touch her; let his fingers roam over every inch of her until she was like melted wax in his grasp. It took every ounce of his meager self-control to keep his hands to himself, but it was worth it to watch Mab lose it. And it doesn’t take long. Her fingers dug into the meat above his hips, and she rocked down against his hardening cock.

His hands moved to glide up the sides of her waist. When his fingers traced the skin they left behind, he could feel the goosebumps that had formed in their wake. She was tense above him, shuddering in anticipation. He trailed his hands back down, down until he could grab two handfuls of her ass over her shorts. He then forced her core to drag down over the front of his sweatpants, and the movement sent him over the moon, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull.

She gasped his name at the same time, and he mentally stowed the sound for another time. He moved only one hand up to curl around her cheek and the back of her head, and he licked into her mouth in a dominant kiss that he knew she would reciprocate.

A while ago, he had read about Type Purples in order to learn more about Mab. In that information, he read about Purple’s tendencies to use their powers to manipulate others for sex and love. He had brought it up to Mab once, back when they first started working together, but after the visceral reaction he had gotten from her, he never brought it up again.

A lot of other people brought it up instead. “You’ll wake up one day and realize she’s using you, son.” Noah never got over that; how it was said to him while Mab was standing right next to him. It had taken every ounce of training to not beat their faces into a bloody pulp.

Noah’s will was his own. He protected Mab because he wanted to.

Noah and Mab continued to kiss, heavily and messily, and he felt her fingers tugging at the band of his sweatpants. He pulled her hands away and searched blindly for the hem of her shirt. He pulled it up over her head, sending her hair in every direction. He took a moment to admire the beauty of her tits in his face, before ducking his head and encasing one nipple between his lips. He swirled his tongue around it, and then sucked hard enough that her back arched. After having a little nibble, he hurriedly released it with a wet pop to do the same process to the other.

He didn’t stop until both of her tits had been worshiped enough; red from his lips and teeth, and she was a mess on his lap. She’d tugged at the short hairs at the back of his neck for some time now, and he was sure it stuck up all over the place.

Her skin tasted unholy, but all he could think of was how he had to have his mouth on her pussy in the next few seconds or he’d combust. He grabbed her hips and lifted her up off his lap. The loss of friction made her whine softly. “I know sweetheart I know,” he mumbled into her clavicle, pulling his legs out from under her. “Lie back, lemme taste you. Please.”

He let her go and she fell backwards. He couldn’t help but admire how her hair fanned out like flames licking the sheets below her. Her hands joined his as he pulled down her shorts. Even before he glanced back down, he could tell that she was wet and ready for him. He tore at her underwear with more urgency than he had with her shorts. Maybe he was under a spell, but he was sure it wasn’t her reality shaping powers.

Purple-Type Reality Bender or not, she was his goddess, and he would kneel at her altar for as long as he lived.

Noah threw her thighs over his shoulders, hooking his arms around them as he dug his fingers into her skin. He dove straight in, not even bothering to tease her with soft kisses to her inner thighs and outer lips. He barely even took a second to admire how pretty and perfect her pussy was. He wrapped his lips around the bud of her clit and sucked it in between his teeth, causing her to loudly whine above his head. He felt her fingers wind into his hair, and he moaned against her folds when she tugged at his roots.

He pulled away slightly to run the flat of his tongue up her slit, and she wore as she shuddered and grinded her pussy against his face. When he moved back up to her flit, he slowly rubbed at her entrance with a single finger, prodding it in up to the knuckle. When he crooked it up, her body bent like a bow, tensed to snap at any moment.

She swore as he circled her clit with his tongue, flicking it up and down. The hand not in his hair found its way to his bicep, and he felt a sharp pain that traveled down his body and caused his dick to twitch. His hips involuntarily sought friction by rutting against her bed.

Mab wasn’t very vocal when it came to dirty talking during sex, or talking at all. Noah had to learn her tells, but luckily they fucked so often that it didn’t take long. She wasn’t a swearer, nor a babbler. Her tells were all physical. So when he felt her thighs tense beneath his hand, and when her breathing picked up, he doubled down until her thighs caged his head and she came. Hard.

He drank it up like a man dying in Death Valley. He was a feral with his tongue, not stopping until he was sure she was about to come again. He groaned at the thought that he could suffocate between her legs, and as cliché as it sounded, he knew he’d die happy.

The vibration from his moan sent her into another climax, but he still didn’t stop until he consumed everything she gave him. Pretty soon, she was squirming from the stimulation and pulling him up by his hair. He reluctantly parted from her and rose to greet her with a grin that she would normally wipe off his face if she wasn’t so drunk off her orgasms.

“Speechless?” he asked, and she finally glared at him. “It’s a cute look for you.”

“Shut up,” she muttered. Her bare tits rose as she tried to draw in air.

While she was distracted, Noah quickly shed his sweats and boxers. He searched for a condom, fumbling with tearing the foil packaging until he gave up and tore it open with his teeth. After the rubber was rolled on, he crawled on top of Mab. Her breathing had nearly returned to normal.

He held himself up with one hand and then leaned down to kiss her. She hummed a sound as he slipped his tongue past her lips. He thought to himself that every part of her tastes amazing.

His hips rocked against hers, his cock running through the slickness between her thighs. Her breath hitches. “Not gonna last too much longer, sweetheart,” he said with a breathy groan. When he rutted against her again, she met him at the same pace. He wasn't even inside her yet and he could nearly cum right there and then.

He pulled back a bit and wrapped his fingers around her jaw as he said, “Lemme see those pretty eyes.”

They popped open as he dragged his thumb over her bottom lip. He could never get enough of her eyes. Despite the color almost being obliterated by her dilated pupils, he could still see the flecks of sky blue interspersed amongst the lavender irises, like a violet starscape. My shooting star, he had once called her on the top of the townhouse as they watched a meteor shower. She didn’t hear him at the time, but he was okay with that. It could be just his little secret.

He had no idea how accurate that name was.

Noah held her jaw in an iron grip as he slowly entered her. He reveled in the feeling of her chest rising as she gasped; the way her eyes widened more. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes as she fluttered around him, and instead his breath came out as a deep rumble from somewhere in his chest.

He didn't break eye contact until he was flush with her, their hips pressed together snugly. He rested his forehead against hers, peering down at their bodies. He nearly blocked hers out with how big he was compared to her, and the feeling of being so much larger than her ignited another fire in his belly. Instead of giving into that fire, he kissed her again, slowly this time, giving her time to adjust.

Her patience though doesn’t let him stay still for long. “Noah,” she whimpered, her fingers flexing into his ribs as if to urge him to move.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said. “Let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

After taking a deep breath, he withdrew until he was almost out. He then hitched her legs up to where her thighs rested over his hips. He rocked back in with a sharp thrust and hit a spot in her that had her gasp aloud. The sound made him lose his composure. 

“You’re all mine,” he blurted out. “Say it.”

There was a pause after his words, and the silence nearly deafened him.  He knew he hadn't even said the L-Word yet, and here he is, claiming her as if she belonged to him. He just wanted to hear her say it, just so he knew that she was real.

“I’m yours.” Mab whispered. “I’ve always been yours.”

Noah thrusted again, and her hands sought out for something. They pulled at the sheets, the pillows under her head, finally curling under his arms and gripping his shoulders.  With every one of his thrusts, her nails sunk deeper and deeper into his back, until she tore at his skin and practically drew blood.

“You’re Mine.” He enunciated every word with a thrust that had her tits bouncing. “Mine. Mine. Mine.” 

“I'm… yours,” She gasped. “Oh, god - N-Noah-!”

“You’re so good for me,” he growled into her ear. “So fucking good around me. Fucking made for this cock, fucking made for me.” He rambled on. 

He looked down at where they connected again. The sight of her smooth, blank skin against his heavily decorated torso nearly doing him in. He grinded his teeth together so hard he could feel a muscle spasm in his cheek.  He focused on that so he wouldn’t blow his load before he cums. Except when he looked back up at her, he saw that she was looking as well, her lips forming a perfect “o”.

This had to end now or he’d end up embarrassing himself. He quickly pressed his thumb down on her clit, and luckily, with little encouragement, she came. She came with a cry that caused her to nearly lift off the bed. 

The noise, the feeling of her wrapping around himself, it was all too much for him. With a shudder and a groan, he emptied into the condom. His arms nearly gave out, but he caught himself before he fell on top of her. Catching his breath, he slipped out of her despite her protest. Fighting his body's natural habit to stay, he turned over to dispose of the condom and to grab something to clean themselves with. He wanted to do more, but the hand clinging onto his arm made collapse back onto the bed. 

She almost materialized on top of him. This kiss is nothing but soft; something to reassure him that she was thankful for him. It almost felt like a reminder that he's only human… well, half-human.

When they parted again, she laid her head on his chest, her body tucking into his side as he held her tightly to his warm, wide torso.  She whispered something into his skin, slick with sweat still cooling off, but when he made an inquiring noise that asked what it was she said, she pretended that she hadn’t said anything. He didn’t let on that he had heard her clearly. 

“You're mine, too,” she had whispered.

Noah watched as Mab fought against the cultist; she clawed against the hand around her throat, kicking her legs wildly. The cultist held her out as far as his arm would let him, but her feet still made contact with his legs. Still, he stood unphased. 

“Put her in,” the Serpent said, his black eyes cold and unyielding.

Noah tried to scream, tried to crawl his way to her to save her from whatever watery grave they were going to send her to. But his body, as torn up as it was, refused to move.  The most he could do was moan and reach his hand out for her. Despite the short distance between them, he couldn't do anything. 

He was going to watch Mab die, just like he watched Kennedy die.

“Dad! DAD!”

Noah’s eyes met Mab’s, and the fear in them almost made him throw up.

The cultist tried to let her go, tried to drop her into the pool, but her grip on him was too great. He then tried to shove her in. The minute her skin made contact with the water, she let out a shriek that sounded more like it belonged to a mortally wounded animal. She certainly fought like one; the water of the pool flew everywhere as she thrashed.

Some of that black water hit Noah’s ravaged skin. He hissed at the icy burn, certain that frost formed where it made contact. 

The cultist then held Mab’s head down under the water with his free hand. After a while, the ripples she formed lessened until they stopped completely. Noah watched, horrified, as the cultist pulled his hands out of the water. They looked like they were completely frostbitten.

The serpent turned towards the Bad Omens. “Now, we can—”

There was a flash of violet in the corner of Noah’s eyes. Before the Serpent could finish whatever he was going to say, the pool erupted like a geyser, shooting up its contents as a figure flew out of it. 

Noah could barely describe what he was seeing. It was like looking through a two-dimensional hole in three-dimensional space, but the hole was in the shape of a humanoid woman. Where eyes would be, there instead were two galaxies, swirling clouds of blue and purple, combining in a cosmic force. When he looked through her, he could see stars dotting the expanse, some spinning around each other or tumbling to some far corner of space he couldn’t see.

The being then moved her hands, and suddenly the room exploded. 

Jolly threw himself over Noah at the same time Folio ducked and rolled against an overturned table.  Noah felt a great weight settle over him, but it had nothing to do with Jolly. It was like gravity was pulling and pushing him at the same time, with equal amounts of force, cementing him to his spot. 

Fighting this gravity, Noah managed to turn his head towards the center of the chaos. He was just in time to see the guards and cultists get vaporized by the Entity’s power.  The Serpent screamed as he was sucked into a black hole; an actual hole, held by the starry figure. The hole then imploded, sending another explosion through the room. 

And as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Silence fell over the hall, leaving just his fire team and whatever just decimated the cult of Orobos. 

That’s when those violet galaxies turned onto him. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Folio lift his gun. He watched the figure glance over, and he knew he had to get in the middle. He somehow found the strength to move out from under Jolly, onto his feet, and in front of Folio before he was blinded in his right eye. He felt that raw power brush past his face, or maybe he was just feeling the skin boil and fuse with the neoprene mask. 

“NOAH! NOAH! NOAH!” 

Everything around him slowly dissolved, floating upward until it was only him and the god-shaped hole in front of him.  Fog permeated the outside of his vision, like it was creating a barrier between them and the rest of the world. Or maybe it was the figure who created it.

Noah…

He heard his name being spoken into his mind rather than out loud. “I know you’re in there,” he said, turning to face it. “You wouldn’t hurt us willingly.”

Noah. 

“Come on, Mab,” he said, holding his arms out. He slowly approached her.  “Come back to us.” 

The edges of the figure rippled at his words, like it was trying to reassemble itself into a form it might recognize. Noah didn’t stop until he was practically pressed against it, feeling the cold nothing radiating out of it. He tentatively placed his hands on its waist, and almost immediately his fingers turned purple. 

“Please, Mab,” he pleaded. “Come back to me.” 

Noah? 

Noah blinked at the sound of his name. He looked up and behind him towards the doorway, where Nicholas stood. 

“Anything?” Noah asked. Nicholas only shook his head. 

Noah looked down at his phone in his hand. The text screen was still pulled up.

Picking up some Thai and we can watch whatever you want to tonight. That OK?

Ok.

You OK Firefly?

I'm fine.

I know it's been a rough couple of days recently.

I'm OK.

Ok then… Be there in 15.

He had sent that message five minutes before he led the strike team to raid Mab’s place.

It had been a rough few days ever since they got back from the Grey. Noah had to undergo several surgeries to get himself back to normal, including surgery to repair the half of his face that had been burnt. Jolly had called him “Two Face” at one point. 

After the surgery and the anesthesia wore off, he woke up to what he thought was Hell. Jolly, Oliver, and another person had come into his recovery room to tell him what had happened. “She killed an entire strike team trying to bring her in for questioning,” Jolly had said. They weren’t there for questioning; they were there for an extermination. “She’s too dangerous to be out in the open anymore.” That doesn’t justify sending a drone to kill someone and any witnesses. 

Whatever Administrator he was (why else would someone from Alpha-1 be in the room?) debriefed Noah on what Mab had essentially become: a Phase V Reality-Bender, a myth come true. And she killed fifteen people to save her skin. The UPA Killed them!  

As he had walked through Mab’s place, he couldn’t help but notice how it had been scrubbed clean. Nothing of her had been left behind, not even a fingerprint. It was like she never lived here in the first place. When he went into her room, he knew it would be just like the rest of the place, but he still had to check. He scoured every inch to try and find something of her of them.

Nothing.

He had collapsed onto the mattress, the sheets gone. He pulled his helmet off and pulled the mask down before hanging his head in defeat. Half of his hair hung in front of his face; the other half would take months to grow back. And that’s where Nicholas had found him.

Noah’s thumbs shook as he typed out the message: Mab, we need to talk. But his blood boiled at the return message: 

THE NUMBER YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH HAS BEEN DISCONNECTED. 

He threw his phone against the wall. It fell to the ground in several pieces, broken beyond repair. Next was his helmet; it put a large dent in the wall’s plaster. When he was about to put his fist through the wall, Nicholas’ hand materialized out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist mid-swing. “You just got that hand fixed,” Nicholas said. 

The anger in Noah's veins evaporated, and he collapsed to the floor. He let out an animalistic scream to vent whatever steam he had left. Mab was gone. 

He loved her, but she was gone.  He was too late.

Noah… 

He looked up at the mess he had made. A single photo had fluttered out of the inside of his helmet, out of the tiny nook he had tucked it into. “That way you’re always on my mind,” he had told her.

“Wow. Cheesy,” she had replied. What was in that photo, Noah?

Noah turned his head towards the voice that spoke from next to him. Mab sat on the edge of the roof, kicking her legs back and forth. It almost reminded him of times from long ago when they first met. 

“I still can’t believe that Cooper’s Rock has the exact same stars as the rest of the world,” Mab said, dreamily looking up at the night sky.

“What, you expected something else?”  Noah asked.

“It’s a Nexus field! They shouldn’t be able to replicate every single star as exact as the outside world! Yet everything…” 

As Mab went on, Noah could only focus on how her face reacted to the words coming out of her mouth. How her nose would scrunch up occasionally. How her lips would pout when she frowned. 

He could absolutely kiss those lips right now.

“… at least, that’s what Dustin told me.” She sighed. She looked down at him. “Uh, Noah? You alright?” 

“Er, yeah,” Noah coughed, catching himself. “Do you make it a habit to remember everything a guy tells you?”  Mab elbowed him in the arm. “When he's talking about my field, yes.”

“I thought he was the religion guy.”

“No! That's T.J.! Honestly, do you ever pay attention to a word I say?”

He does, actually. He knows Tobias is the Religion Guy, because he’s worked with him numerous times over the past two years. But he liked to tease her if it meant she was talking to him.  Better than how they were several months ago. 

He changed the subject. “Our next engagement will take us to the other hemisphere,” he said. “I could show you a whole other sky of stars.” 

The promise took her by surprise.  Her eyes widened, and thanks to the soft glow of the streetlamps below, he caught the tinge of pink spreading across her cheeks. 

And that’s when he got the thing he wanted the most from her: a smile, pure and dazzling. “I’d like that,” she said. 

no no no it’s too much no no

He tore his gaze away from her smile to look up at the sky, and at the same time a meteorite streaked across the night. It left behind a glittering trail of purple. 

He felt warm all over, like he was blushing or something. But the heat rose, and rose, until it was unbearable. A sound from behind him made him turn his gaze away from the sky. 

Everything was on fire. 

No, no no no no no… Not this.

“Dad! DAD!”

Noah heard a scream as some of the roof caved in, and he sobbed.  His singed hands burned as he tried to wipe away his tears. He couldn’t do anything to save the man who raised him since—

Wait. Why were his hands burned? 

He heard another scream, much like the first but it was different than he remembered. He looked away from the fire and saw the flash of red as the figure from his nightmares fled the scene. 

It was like a dream where he was in his body, but not controlling it. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! He wants to scream.

He rushed towards the figure, his mind racing at the thought of seeing its face for the first time. Even though he knew who it was, thanks to the UPA declassifying the files—

Except a different scene unfolded before him. 

The Administrator in the hospital had told him that it was Mab that had caused the fire, killing his guardian and almost taking Noah with him. It was so easy for Noah to throw that love for her away, almost like he had been brainwashed. 

As he chased the figure, he saw that she wasn’t running away, she was being carried; she was unconscious. 

“Hold on! I’ll get you out!” He shouted as the girl screamed. His hands grabbed the flaming post, the adrenaline numbing the pain and giving him the strength to lift it. He then reached her, picked her up and helped her out.

This person carrying them, he’d seen them before. He was there when Mab was tossed into the Empty. A cultist of Orobos? What were they doing here?

His hands grabbed the redhead and pulled. “Let her go!” he screamed. Despite his lack of strength, he managed to pull her free. He clutched onto her until the cultist tore her away from him. 

Mab hadn’t set the fire. 

The cultist had. 

Mab didn’t kill his guardian. 

Noah’s head exploded in pain.  He screamed as it felt like his brain was short-circuiting and melting from the confusion. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn’t stop him from seeing the jumble of images melding together: 

Mab wrapped in shadow.

Mab drenched in rain.

Mad covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Mab made of nothing but night and stars.   

Mab emerged from a forest, young and naked, wide-eyed and confused as to who or what she was. 

“Who are you?” his 15-year-old self asked. 

“Ah… s-star…” She muttered, pointing behind her. Where Noah had been handing to check out the meteor. Her violet eyes glowed as she looked back at him. 

“NOW DO YOU REMEMBER?” she asked, but her voice sounded so much older.

Suddenly, he was back in the Grey, standing before the starry Entity. He was frozen to the spot as its galaxy eyes stared him down.

Noah felt tears falling down his face, suddenly unmarred. “I remember…”

The figure – Mab – cupped his face. It’s touch was bitingly cold, like the water from the pool; like the Burning Not-Water from his nightmare. The figure’s form flickered again, changing shape and form for a brief moment, like a slideshow: 

A figure wrapped in shadows. 

A figure drenched in rain. 

A figure wrapped in stars. 

A figure with pale skin, black hair, and brown eyes—

Wait.

The image of the mystery woman gave him enough clarity to wrench free from the Entity’s grasp. And with a sorrowful scream, Noah raised his service weapon and pulled the trigger.

Within the silence of this illusion, is there anything more than human?

Suddenly, everything rushes back to Noah with startling, painful clarity. The shock causes him to double over as Mab stumbles away from him. He dry heaves for a few seconds before hurriedly recuperating.

He looks up to see her shocked face. She’s holding her side where the bullet hit her. It hadn’t penetrated the uniform, he has the UPA to thank for that. But it did manage to tear her concentration away from him. 

“You fucking shot me,” she says incredulously. 

“Yeah, well, don’t try your mind shit on me,” he groans, standing up. “Or at least pay attention to the finger that’s on the trigger, just in case something like this happens again.”

She’s still incredulous and he would find the look comical if the situation were different. “After all that I just showed you, you still think I would hurt you.”

He shrugs, pulling his mask back over his nose. He can’t tell how long time has passed since she initiated that walk down memory lane.  For all he knows, the UPA is back to watching his every move.

He reaches down for his helmet, but it vanishes under his fingertips. He sighs and turns back to Mab. “Really? You do that now?” 

“Noah, listen to me,” she pleads. “I don't have much more time. I was serious when I said that I didn't kill all those operatives. I didn't kill anyone.” 

"Who's to say that you fabricated all those memories?” he says, drawing his katana. Her eyes widen as he leaps at her, but she's still able to throw up a shield so the blade bounces off harmlessly. He attacks again, and once more she blocks with the violet light at the last second. 

“Noah, please!" she pleads as he swings again and again. Her blocks are sloppy compared to her previous combat. It's almost like she's distracted, or her body can't keep up with what her mind wants. 

Eventually she comes around and blasts Noah backwards. He hits a shelf hard enough to lose grip on his katana, and he and the sword both hit the floor hard. 

As he pushes himself up, she walks up to him. He half expects a boot to connect with his face, but instead she stops a foot away from him. She crouches down into a squat, and she’s now level with him as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. Her eyes are level with his, the black piercing his—

Wait. No, her eyes are all wrong. It’s like they’re bleeding purple down her face, draining the irises of their color. 

Maybe unknowing of her condition, Mab brushes the strands of his dark brown locks away that have fallen into his face off his sweaty brow. “This can only end one way, Noah; only one way to free us from this nightmare.” 

“Then do it already,” he says, lifting up his chin in stubborn defiance. 

She sighs. “I told you, I’m not a murderer, Noah.”

“Then who are you?”

His question catches her off-guard. “What?” she asks.

“You can't fool me anymore,” he says.

With a force that makes him dizzy with pain afterwards, he headbutts the Type Purple humanoid. With a curse, she falls backwards, giving him enough time to roll over and grab his gun. The two stand up quickly at the same time, but he aims the gun at her, much like how this all started. 

“Noah…”

“Do you trust me?” Noah asks.

She pauses, then smiles as she catches up to what he knows. “I always do.”

“Goodbye, Mab.”

And the gunshot echoes through Level 3. 

Noah drops the smoking gun, and it hits the floor at the same time the body does. He follows quickly after. 

It doesn't take long for the other task forces to flood the space now that Mab’s shield wasn’t preventing them from doing so. Noah watches them numbly as they do their job: Scan the area, test for EVE radiation, check for abnormal Hume readings. They only scan him long enough to make sure he’s physically alright, and he’s not under a cognition hazard, and they move on to the dead body. This process is familiar to him, as he’s done it himself.  It’s just part of what a GRAVE operative does.  

It's not until Matt and Nick hook their arms under his and help him onto his feet does he move. He turns away from the scene, not even looking back once.

“Noah—"

“It’s not Mab; not anymore,” Noah says curtly, and keeps walking.

There’s still more to do, but for him? 

It’s all over.

I never needed you to be anything more than human.

“And you're sure you killed her?" 

Noah swallows thickly, resting his head in the palm of his hand. He was dead tired. “Yes,” he replied.

“You're sure of—"

"I don't miss my shots. Check on service record,” Noah snaps, catching himself at the last second. "Sir." 

Noah hates debriefing interviews. It's a bunch of repetitive bullshit, just the interviewers asking the same five questions over and over again in hopes that he'll spill something he wasn't meant to. He can guess why they're coming down especially hard on him. Besides the relationship he had with Mab, there was the broadcasting hiccup along with no recoverable footage, they only had his word to go on.   

And of all people they could've pulled to interview him, they pulled the doctor that hated him the most. Dr. Altef hated Type Purples with an almost racist passion.  He hated Mab so much; he was the reason why Mab was transferred to Site-6. Noah was sure he would be here for hours still. 

“I’m not doubting your aim, Agent Sebastian,” Dr. Altef says, thumbing through a folder thick with paper. Noah bristles at the title, the lack of one obviously a slant against him. “I'm doubting your… motives.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Noah asks, not caring that the man in front of him has more authority and more clearance than him and the rest of Bad Omens put together. 

“It’s no secret that you and LTE-2995-Cheshiremorph-Violet were… involved with each other,” the director says, distaste dripping from his words, “despite the UPA rulings against team relationships.”

Noah feels a mix of anger and sorrows in his gut. Anger at the use of Mab’s entry name instead of her actual human name, and sorrow for the change of the first letter. L meant Liquidated, Liquidated meant exterminated. 

It meant she was dead. 

Noah had hoped that the person he killed would’ve turned back to its original form. But even hours later, it remained the same. He had shot Man. He had killed Mab. 

Talk about some kind of Greek tragedy… 

He reigns in his emotions before they could get the best of him. “So what, that bullet hole in the middle of her forehead just materialized out of nowhere?” he sneers. A second later, the thought of how Mab probably could materialize a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead, but he keeps that thought to himself.

“We’re trying to get all the facts here, Agent Sebastian,” Dr. Altef sighs in annoyance. 

“We haven’t been seeing each other since the L’Engle event,” Noah finally admits. “Last night was the first time I saw her since.”

“So you say,” Dr. Altef says. He tries to say more, and honestly risks getting his face bashed in, but a knock at the door of the interrogation room tears both of their attentions away. The director goes over to the door and talks briefly with whoever was on the other side. Meanwhile, Noah finishes his coffee, which has gone cold since the start of the interrogation.

Altef returns, looking slightly more smug.  Noah doesn’t like where this might be going. “What?” he asks.

“You’re coming with me,” Altef says. “Why? Where are we going?” Noah asks.

“To the medical ward on Level 2,” Altef says. Noah feels his body go cold as ice. "We're going to watch the autopsy.” 

Unfortunately for Noah, the UPA works fast.   

Not even twelve hours after a bullet was put in it, the corpse was ready for dissection. Noah wasn’t sure why he was being dragged to see this, nor why they were doing an autopsy in the first place. It was clear to see how she obviously died.

Died.

Before the interrogation, when he had been cleared to go home and sleep, he immediately had fallen face-first into his pillows, probably asleep before his face had even hit them. Not once was he interrupted by dreams. When he woke up later that morning, the realization of having a nightmare-free night hit him like a truck, and he broke down at the implication.

She was really gone.

This had to be some kind of punishment. Making him watch as they open and disassemble the body? That alone had to be its own kind of special hell.

Noah looks down from the raised platform he stands on, behind bulletproof glass. Two medical examiners had wheeled the covered body in and moved it to an examination table. They withdrew the white sheet, finally uncovering her.

Despite saying that they hadn’t done anything to her yet, they had already shaved her head of the copper hair that had made her so distinct from everyone else. Noah clenches his fists so hard that he could feel his nails in his palms, despite wearing gloves.

“Type Purple procedure,” Altef says from beside him. “Can’t be too careful.” Like the explanation was supposed to calm the anger slowly boiling inside of Noah.

“Let's get this over with,” the director says. Noah shoots him a glare from the corner of his eyes quickly, then schools his face back into one of indifference.

Noah’s fists clench even more as the examiners direct machinery into position, and the laser makes the first incision. They cut a precise line straight down the body, from the suprasternal notch down to her navel. The laser then split, going opposite ways and then back together to form flaps. The other arms of the machine pull back the skin and muscle. The whole process takes less than ten seconds.

Noah can tell something was wrong just by the examiner's stances. They had paused after looking inside, and they seemed confused as they poke around in the chest cavity for some time, talking to each other.

Dr. Altef gets impatient. “What’s the hold up?” he snaps.

The examiners ignore him, and take out some of the organs. Noah might’ve been an average student growing up, but even he knew that the organs looked… off. Discolored.

Finally, the examiners turn up to the two men peering down at them from the observation room. “We have a problem,” one says, their voice being piped through an intercom.

“What? What is it?” the director snaps. Noah fails to suppress his eye roll.

“This body has… clear signs of atrophy and necrosis. Severely. This body has been dead for a while.”

“I’d put it as being dead for at least a week,” the other examiner says.

Noah can’t help the hoot of laughter he lets out at the director’s incredulous face. “Are you saying that—” Dr. Altef sputters.

“We can run DNA tests, but I’m positive that this isn’t the body of our LTE-2995.”

As the director swears up a storm, Noah allows the smallest smirk he could make without getting noticed.

It wasn’t Mab’s body.

The changes had been superficial. Deep down, the body’s DNA betrayed the fact that it was the body of some random woman that just so happened to match the description of a corpse that had gone missing recently. Mab’s reality-bending powers never ceased to amaze Noah.

And so did her stealth abilities. The second he stepped back into his room after that disaster of a day, he could sense something was off. Usually he kept his room tidy, therefore his eyes immediately zoned in on what was off. A drawer, slightly opened, when he knew it had been shut before he left. An old shirt was missing, and in its place was a single violet tucked into a note.

The next three months were almost unbearable, as it took that long for the UPA to stop scrutinizing Noah’s every movement. After the investigation and he was cleared of any “helping KTE-2995-Cheshiremorph-Purple in her break-in”, he took some long overdue time off. Thanks to some help from Matt, he basically disappeared from sight.

Now, under the disguise of visiting his home country, he thanks the truck driver for bringing him out to this small coastal village in western Ireland. He shells out twice the amount he had promised in thanks. He shoulders his duffel bag and turns the collar of his black trench coat up against the January wind, and walks through the town.

The locals tell him of a small cottage that had mysteriously appeared overnight, and the nice “witch” that soon occupied it. They point him in the direction, and indeed he eventually finds himself trekking down the path towards it. It has a clear line of vision all around it, so there was no way someone could sneak up on her.

The cottage also has a clear view of the ocean, but right now the weather has turned everything gray. Noah squints his eyes, as if he could see through the mists to his birthplace of Hy-Brasil, despite there still being a couple of years before the mists would part for that one day.

The cottage itself looks like something out of a fairy tale. Cobbled stone walls, but with a shingle roof. The windows are lined with intricate stained glass, and violets are blooming in the garden despite the weather. It looks exactly like something she would like.

Noah knocks on the door three times. The inside must be as small as it looks, because he can hear her scrambling towards the front. “Hold on! I’m coming, I’m com—” Several locks turn and the door opens, and the sole occupant stops mid-sentence when she sees him standing there.

“Hi Mab,” Noah says.

Mab Grey remains silent, almost like she’s having a hard time believing he was standing in front of her. She looks exactly like the last time he saw her; the real her. She’s wearing dark leggings and a thick gray sweater, letting her hair and eyes account for the lack of color.

“You’re here,” she whispers as she exhales.

Noah steps inside, ducking through the doorway. “Well, you extended the invitation,” he says, dropping his bag near the door.

Her lips curl into a coy smile. “Well, I didn’t think it would take you this long to figure it out,” she teases.

“Oh please, I knew exactly what you meant,” he shoots back, slowly crowding her backwards until her back hits the wall.

“Damn, I was hoping I was being clever,” she airily laughs, tilting her head back to stare directly into his eyes. Hers sparkle with happiness and anticipation.

“Really?’ he asks, leaning down. “I can wait for you at the bottom.” He kisses the space between her brows. “I can stay away if you want me to.” He kisses the tip of her nose. “I can wait for years if I have to.” He lightly pecks her lips. “Heaven knows I will never get over you,” he finishes quietly, lips hovering over hers.

“Noah…” she sighs.

“So no hard feelings?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “You shot me.”

“Mmmmm… If I’m thinking correctly, that wasn’t you, just a puppet,” he says. “But let me make it up to you?”

“I like the sound of that.” She smiles as he cups her face and finally kisses her.

After almost a year of being apart, they meet in a kiss that consumes the both of them. Mab surges up to meet him, standing on her tiptoes to try and make the distance less. Noah ducks down, his hands blindly seeking her thighs, long fingers wrapping around the back of them. He picks her up, wrapping her legs around his hips, and she wraps her arms around his neck to get closer to him, as if they weren’t already fused together into one being.

He pulls her away from the wall, and blindly carries her to the tiny bedroom. He tries to ease her down onto the bed, but she grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him down. It doesn’t take long for them to shed their shirts, and when her offending piece of clothing is discarded, he wraps his lips around the peak of one breast, sucking until her nipple hardens and she squirms against him, letting out sweet whimpers. His fingers tease the other one, matching the motion of his tongue.

Her fingers thread through the hair on the back of his head and she gives a small tug; not enough to make his body react, but just enough to get his attention. He pulls away from her skin, looking up at her through his lashes. “I missed you,” he says. “I missed this.”

“Then show me how much you’ve missed me,” she says.

He grins devilishly at the challenge.

Noah moves away from Mab, kneeling at her feet. He takes one in his hand and kisses her ankle, trailing his lips along the skin of her leg until he gets close to her center. He bypasses it, kissing her hipbone instead. She lets out a huff, and he chuckles darkly.

“Someone’s needy,” he says. He kisses the soft swell of her tummy.

“Well, someone is being a tease,” she shoots back.

“Well, fine. I just wanted to play with my food for a bit,” he says with a mocking huff to match hers. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, running the backs of them along the sensitive skin. “But if you insist…” He yanks her leggings down, tugging her panties along with them.

Fuck. He really had missed her.

He slowly leans down, letting his tongue hang out as he watches her watch him. He licks the bundle of nerves until he sucks her clit between his lips. She lets out a sharp, loud noise, encouraging Noah to speed up his movements while keeping up his rhythm.

Her laboring breath picks up the pace, and he moves one of his hands to replace his tongue with his fingers, rubbing tiny circles around the bundle of nerves as he explores her entrance with his tongue. Her hips jerk at the new contact, and not before long she tenses and cums with a shudder and his name on her tongue.

He nips at the soft sensitive skin of her inner thighs, willing red marks to appear so she can have bruises to remember him by. He only has a week until he has to go back to “hunting” her, and he plans on making the most of it.

“Noah…”

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks before licking her wet slit once to gather her release on his tongue.

She squeaks in surprise, hips jerking at the overstimulation. “Oh my god, get up here already.” She pulls on his hair, but he’s already crawling up to cover her with his body.

This kiss is practically bruising. Mab holds him down as their tongues fight for dominance. He tries to wrestle his pants down, but both of their patience is thin so he only manages to get them and his underwear down past the crease of his ass before he gives up. 

“Mab, hold on, let me—” 

“I wanna feel you. Now.” Her hand dips between them to take his length in hand, and he sighs against her lips.  His breath rate increases as her strokes increase. 

“Damn, you really did miss me,” she says, grinning.

“Play later,” he growls, taking her wrist in his hand. She doesn’t let go, so they both guide his cock to her entrance. They moan simultaneously as he slowly slides in. 

After a few thrusts, he feels the problem. His zipper is rubbing against him uncomfortably, making him wince. Mab must feel it too, because after a bit she pulls away and asks to stop.  She laughs as he frustratingly kicks his remaining clothes down his legs and throws them as if they personally offended him.

“God, I love you,” she says. 

Noah pauses, and smiles. “I love you, too.”

Noah crashes his lips back onto Mab’s, putting their mishap behind them.  It takes a few moments to get back into the mood, a few gropes and a few moans, but soon he’s sliding back in, causing her body to bend. And he has every intention to make her break. 

He braces his knees between her legs and pulls her up along with him.  “Noah, what—” she manages to get out before he quickly thrusts up, causing her words to choke off into a moan.  One of her legs wraps around him while her other keeps her up for support, but she has to wrap her arms around his neck as he pounds her into oblivion. 

“I love you,” he whispers lowly into the space of her neck below her ear.

He feels her pussy tighten at the words and it sends them both toppling over the edge. Mab clutches onto him as she buries her face into the crook of his neck. Her shoulders shake as he sinks down onto the bed.

They hold each other as if the other would dissipate it they let go. 

“Please… stay…” Mab sobs. 

“As always,” Noah replies.  

Featured Creatures: 

@shilohrosechicken, @comforting-madness, @ladyveronikawrites, @roley-poley-foley, @sitkowski

@deathblacksmoke, @darksigns-exe, @dominuslunae, @into-the-grey, @nojoyontheburn

@baddestomens, @lilhobgobbler, @hedonists

“Global Occult Coalition Casefiles” by DrClef, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/goc-hub-page. Licensed under CC-BY-SA

“GOC Codewords” by unknown author, from the SCP Sandbox Wiki. Source: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/collab:goc-codewords#. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. 

Content relating to the SCP Foundation is licensed under creative commons sharealike 3.0 and all concepts originated from https://scpwiki.com/ and its authors. “ANYTHING > HUMAN”, being derived from this content, is hereby also released under Creative commons Sharealike 3.0

An excerpt from “The Prox Transmissions” is included in this article. “The Prox Transmissions” (2016) was written and is owned by Dustin Bates and The Starset Society.

[thatchickwiththecamera]

BAD OMENS M.C. (Coming Soon)

Bad Omens Biker AU | A Nick Folio One Shot

ALL IMAGES CREATED BY ME. PLEASE GIVE PROPER CREDIT.

When Charlie Parker accidentally witnesses a high-stakes deal gone wrong between the notorious Bad Omens M.C. and a rival club, her life takes a dramatic turn. Now a target, she is forced to seek out protection only the club can provide and is introduced to the gritty, high-octane world of the SoCal criminal underground. As she tries to make sense of her dangerous new reality, Charlie finds herself drawn to the club's enigmatic president, whose dark allure is as dangerous as it is compelling. With threats closing in, she must navigate the chaos of the club, all while questioning if her growing feelings will be her salvation or her undoing.

INTRODUCING THE CAST OF BAD OMENS MC:

Nick Folio - President of Bad Omens MC

Noah Sebastian - Vice President of Bad Omens MC

Nicholas Ruffilo - Sergeant at Arms of Bad Omens MC

Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson - Secretary/Treasurer of Bad Omens MC & International Liaison

Matt Dierkes - Member of Bad Omens MC & Intelligence Officer

Jesse Cash - Vice President of ERRA MC & BOMC Liaison

ALL IMAGES CREATED BY ME. PLEASE GIVE PROPER CREDIT.

[l00na24]

Fates Edged On A Blade (Noah Sebastian AU) - Masterlist

Pairing: Samurai!Noah Sebastian x Princess!Reader

Rating: NSFW, 18+

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Angst, Fluff, Blood, Gore, Violence, Sexual themes, more as it continues (individual warnings for each chapter), MDNI

This story contains mature content! Please be aware that this work is entirely fictional and doesn't reflect real people's thoughts, behaviors or personalities! Also it will not be accurate to reality as it contains some fantasy elements and is kind of a lovers to enemies & enemies to lovers story.

Summory:

5 Friends. 5 Fates.

For Noah myths and legends didn't exist, they were just made up stories, nothing more than lies to justify people's actions - that's the way he grew up.

But one day his entire world gets shattered by something taking place at Y/N's birthday which doesn't only change her life but everyone else's too and he has to realize that the world he had known wasn't as he had been made to believe.

He gets confronted with the decision if he remains loyal to the throne like he was raised to as a samurai and hold onto his beliefs or if he accepts that there is more than he had thought and breaks with everything he had known for the person he harbored such deep feelings for.

Will what has been developing between Y/N and Noah get to blossom or will it all crumble down and fall away underneath their feet in the face of death?

Chapters:

Prologue Part One 🌸 Prologue Part Two/ coming soon 🌸 Chapter 1 🌸

[circle-with-me]

Camboy!Jolly, anyone?

After reading @malice-ov-mercy’s Noah app controlled plug blurb (read it here!!) my mind drifted to Jolly (as it is wont to do). Also, major shout out to @the-way-of-words for writing Camboy!Nick/Noah and Jolly because I haven’t been able to shut up about it since <3 Please read these incredible writer’s fics and give them so much love!!

as always, NSFW below 😈

Camboy!Jolly… he has a nice set up in his room. He's very picky about lighting, angles. He makes sure he’s comfortable and his viewers, of course, enjoy the show. He has all kinds of toys for any kind of viewer request he gets. Strokers, different kinds of butt plugs, tantaly sex dolls, dildos, etc. He’ll make custom videos for people if you pay enough. Maybe little risky videos in public places or backstage. He would definitely have one of those app controlled plugs.. and give his paying customers access to it.

When he’s live, he’s got the camera angled so most of his face is covered except for below his nose so you can still see how his pretty mouth moves around the sounds he makes. You're watching how hard he cums from all the stimulation from the vibration you send him through the app. He's slouched in his chair jerking off all over his stomach and up onto his tattooed chest. You can’t do anything about it because you're watching it through a screen. All you can do is glide your fingers through your soaked folds, gasping his name as you cum.

Maybe you become a little obsessed. Not in any real way. Not in the scary stalker way—but you live to receive notifications that he’s going live soon. It's addicting watching him pleasure himself and see how well he knows his own body and how much he’s clearly enjoying his work. It’s not forced or fake like the porn you’ve watched before.

Eventually you ask him for custom videos—strongly considering asking him to say your name when he cums but it all seems too much. He probably would think you were a weirdo and block you… even though in all likelihood he’s dealt with, and completed, worse requests than that. You stick with basic requests.

He knows your name, of course. It’s clearly stated on your account. He even uses it in his personal messages to you when he sends your videos. It seems teasing, but that’s his job, right? The relationship you have, if you can even call it that, is purely transactional.

One day your phone pings—it’s a familiar sound, you know that sound. You haven’t requested anything from him in a while though so you’re unsure of why you’d be receiving a message. In your inbox there’s a unread message from Jolly with a video:

“Hope you haven’t forgotten about me. Here’s something on the house so you know i haven’t forgotten about you xx”

His message along with the free video has your heart pounding. you open it and he’s breathtaking. The daylight from the open blinds hits him in the best way and he looks ethereal. He makes so much eye contact you can barely keep your composure but you finally snap when he tosses his head back, squeezing his eyes shut moaning your name as he cums.

[xmads-omensx]

CHAPTER 1 - SOAKED IN THE NEON GLOW

Content warnings: Violence, Swearing, angst, death, blood, weapons, enemies to lovers, alcohol Word Count: 5802

VANIA

The rain pattered on the ground surrounding me as I stood outside the warehouse before me. Karius always gave me the jobs that no one else wanted. I had nothing to lose. He knew that. And I can see why no one wanted to take on this job. Getting into the warehouse had been no small feat. ERRA, one of the biggest organisations here, owned the building and it was extremely evident by the sheer amount of security they had invested in.

Luckily for me, my savings came in handy when the Underground had gotten in some new Optics that I immediately got installed. My eyesight was now phenomenal and spotting ERRA’s men positioned out of view was as easy as seeing them in broad daylight.

By some insane stroke of luck, I got into the back office with little to no trouble and stole the chip Karius was paying me to grab for him. I learned the hard way not to ask questions. And trust me, I wish I had never asked questions in the first place. Questions get you killed in this line of work.

I like to work quietly. In and out. No funny business. I only kill when I have to. The less mess the better as it is harder to trace back to you. Something OMNS doesn’t quite grasp. OMNS is a crew who have been running for as long as I can remember. There are four of them. Folio was their scout, always riding ahead on his bike with his x-ray optic upgrades to… well… scout, kinda a giveaway if you ask me. Jolly was the muscle. He was upgraded to an extent I wouldn’t even be able to handle even in my wildest dreams. Nick was the crew leader’s right hand. He was the brains. Rumour was that he was a crazy good netrunner and could hack anything from over a mile away. That leaves Noah. The leader. The fucker was even more upgraded than Jolly was. Nobody knew anything about that crazy son of a bitch except from the fact that he is the most ruthless and cold fucker to ever step foot in the Concrete Jungle.

Those four men have been making my life in this line of work literal hell for years. It started when the leader of my old crew stole a job from them and ever since they have been taking it out on all of us. However, when my crew got killed a few months back, OMNS focused their rage onto me. It started with them stealing jobs from me. Then evolved into implicating me on their shitty work. As if I would ever leave that many bodies lying around. God. Men are so messy.

The rain washed away all of my fatigue and the cold reminded me that I still needed to get the chip to Karius before I got caught. I hopped on my motorbike, pulled my black and pink hair into my helmet and began my journey to meet K.

Poppy’s was a popular location for crews from all over the Concrete Jungle to meet and relax after jobs. The neon lights that illuminated the place reflected off of the puddles on the concrete ground as other crews mingled about the place. Most of them usually hung out in the parking lot outside to show off their upgrades, but due to the rain everyone had migrated inside.

The barstools are all occupied along with the booths lining the walls. The stage in the middle of the room was occupied by a cyborg woman dancing to the music blaring throughout the building. My eyes danced around the room looking for a familiar blonde-haired man so I could get in and out of here as quickly as possible.

Karius was a tall, well-built man in a grey suit. He looked out of place being in a bar like Poppy’s, full of low-life criminal crews and other people who had been forced out of the more legal side of life. The only thing that made K somewhat fit in were the projectile launcher upgrades he had fitted into his tree-trunk like forearms.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Karius called. Not even looking up from the shitty whiskey he had been drinking.

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly going to be super fucking fast if you send me out on a job like that are you?” I snapped back at him.

His broad shoulders shuddered as he chuckled at my bitchy tone. K and I had always had a decent employer-employee relationship. Neither of us had any reason to stab each other in the back. The dynamic wasn’t close or personal by any means but we was the closest thing I had to a friend.

“You know, V, these jobs would be a hell of a lot easier if you just joined a crew.” Karius argued. He had been pushing for me to join another crew pretty much since my last one fell apart. But he just saw credits, not people. I guess that’s what helped keep that wall up between the two of us.

“Yeah, well, we both know that will never happen.” I replied with a sigh, “Now do you want your precious chip or not K? I got places to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Here… your payment that we agreed and a tip for your troubles.” Karius replied, taking the chip out of my hand.

I made to leave Poppy’s and head home so I could get some much needed rest when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I whipped around, preparing to engage my Mantis blades, when I realised that it was Karius who had grabbed me. I relaxed upon realising that he wasn’t a threat. You never know in these parts of the Concrete Jungle.

“One more thing V.” He said with a smirk on his face as he led me back towards where he was sat at the bar, “I have another job to discuss with you. Let’s just say it’s a matter of… urgency.” The smirk on his stupid face told me everything that I needed to know. This job would be dangerous. Ridiculously dangerous.

“ERRA have doubled their security and I need something else from them. I can’t go in and get it as that would be too obvious. And besides, I’m only the middle-man. It’s my boss who really wants this. You understand right, V?” Fuck. Another ERRA job. Karius still wore his signature smirk on his face.

“Are you  trying to fucking kill me asshole?” I sighed back at him dejectedly. Alreadyaccepting that I probably won’t be seeing my bed tonight.

“Now why would I kill my best runner?” K laughed back at me. “I would never make any credits then would I? And besides, by boss would have my fucking head V.”

“Fair point.” I replied

“Okay. ERRA’s leader, Jesse, owns that skyscraper off of Coyote Park right? The red one? Tomato colour? He has an office on the second top floor. I need access. But the only way to get into the office is through a three part authentication process. Part 1: the warehouse. You did that part. Check. Part 2: ERRA also owns Electric Twilight. You know, that super exclusive club? If you get the chip, looks exactly like the one you got for me tonight, from the main office on the top floor of the building, then we are one step closer. Now, onto part 3: You will need to find a way into the basement below ERRA’s secondary base. Now security will be tight. But those new optic upgrades you’re sporting should help you. They look good by the way. In the basement there should be a safe. That is where the final chip is. Get all three of those and you should be good to get into their skyscraper.” Karius explained.

“Okay, sounds simple enough. You know, if you ignore that ERRA is the biggest fucking crew in the Concrete Jungle you fucking ass! Do you want me dead!” I replied, full of anger.

“Well luckily for you, it won’t just be your ass on the line. I have arranged back up for you this time.” Karius replied. His smirk not faltering for a second as he laughed at my outburst.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“You will be working  with a crew”

“No!”

“V please.” Karius pleaded, “You need the backup for this. And I really fucking need to get into that goddamn skyscraper.”

“Karius. I work alone. You know this. Especially after last time.” I explained through gritted teeth.

“And why might that be?” A new voice entered the conversation.

I turned around and behind me stood the tallest man I had ever seen up close. Noah. Fuck. I would quite literally rather die than work with this man. His dark brown eyes glared craters into my own as he smirked smugly down at me. He knew something that I was not yet privy to. Double fuck. I refused to be caught unawares by the man who had been making my life hell for the past five months.

 Noah wasn’t exactly unattractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive guy I’ve seen in the Concrete Jungle. His huge, muscular frame was covered in beautiful tattoos. His cyberware was top of the line, which was rare in this line of work, and looked fucking killer. He could kill everyone inside of Poppy’s right then if he really wanted to. His eyes were the deepest brown I had ever seen. His dark hair framed his face effortlessly. He was gorgeous. I hated him even more for it.

Karius greeted Noah with a belly laugh, which was most definitely at my expense considering how both men towered over me. I was absolutely fucked.

“Noah. This is Vania.” K began, “Vania, this is Noah. He is the leader of OMNS. That crew who ran the Kingdom of Cards job oh so very smoothly about two months back. Ring a bell?”

It most definitely did ring a bell. I was supposed to do that job. Me. Not OMNS. Me. Asshole.

I rolled my eyes in response to Karius, whilst Noah chuckled at me. Fucker.

“You will be working together on this ERRA job. And V, before you start complaining, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You will work alongside them in order to get this job done.”

“Then why doesn’t OMNS just do the ERRA job and you give me something else?” I scoffed in reply.

“Because, V, OMNS need someone with your skillset. They don’t have anyone as quiet as you. And we both know those Lynx Paws were not cheap in the Underground so you may as well use them to get your credit’s worth.” Karius explained with an exasperated sigh. “And besides, we both know why you need this V.”

Fuck. There was no way in hell that K was seriously blackmailing me. Especially not in front of Noah. Right?

“As much as it pains me to say, Vania, we can’t exactly do this job without someone like you.” Noah offered. Clearly reluctant to compliment me.

“What the fuck is in it for me then?” I pushed. Needing something to convince me to actually go through with this.

“One million credits, V.” Karius stated.

Yeah, that would convince me.

“Fine. But we do this my way. Or we don’t do this at all.” I argued back. Refusing to give in and make myself look like I would just roll over for credits.

“Not gonna happen princess.” Noah barked back.

Asshole.

“Why the fuck not? You said it yourself hotshot. You. Need. Me” I snapped back. Punctuating my words with a sharp poke to his hard, muscular chest.

“Get fucked princess. You work for me now.”

“No. I don’t. We work together now. Don’t get all patriarchal just because you’re the leader of your crew. I bow to nobody.” I angrily replied, “And stop calling me princess cocksucker.”

“In your dreams princess.” Noah snarkily replied. “Sure. Try and get us to play by your rules. The others won’t agree to that. They won’t roll over to a short-ass dictator rolling in and fucking things up.”

“Fine. We work together. But don’t think I like this asshat. I’m only doing this because I need the credits.” I gave in.

“Brilliant! Here is your contract. You will be paid a small portion of the one million each following each part of the mission. That way we don’t lose any money if you guys short circuit while you’re on the job.” Karius beamed.

Both Noah and I signed the contract next to our names at the bottom of the paper. Suddenly, I was aware of five other men standing behind us. Turning around, I realised that these were the other members of OMNS. I recognised three of them as being Folio, Jolly and Nick, but the other two I had never seen before. Both had long hair, one must longer than the other, and wore what looked to be baseball caps on their heads. They must be new to OMNS I thought to myself.

I had never been this close to them before. All six men were absolutely beautiful. The world is so cruel. God I hated insufferably attractive men. They all had tattoos covering their bodies, but Noah very clearly had the most. His throat tattoo always prominent against his pale skin.

The shortest man, Folio, I now came to realise has new optics fitted. One remained as his green x-ray upgrade, but the other now glowed a vibrant blue colour. Holy shit. He had somehow managed to get his filthy hands on a tracker upgrade. Holy fuck. Now he can see people through walls and lay a target on them so he, and the others, can easily kill them. Fucking asshole. The amount of people he would have had to kill for that implant would have been insane.

A man with a goatee and long brown hair stood next to him. Jolly was significantly taller than Folio, but did not stand quite as tall as Noah did. Jolly was muscular too, but this was largely because of the sheer amount of upgrades he had put into his body. It looked like he had spent his credits on body-mod upgrades focusing on force and strength as opposed to Folio’s more techy upgrades. Jolly was practically impenetrable with his implants making him  bulletproof all over, except for his head. Those implants were risky. Anything impacting your nervous system was bound to make you go full cyberpsycho. The leader of my old crew fucked with a gnarly sandevistan implant but it… well..

The third man was smaller. He blended in seamlessly with the scene around him. Nick was rumoured to be one of the best netrunners in the Concrete Jungle. He could hack anything. His eyes glowed a soft purple hue  due to his optic upgrades. They looked fucking sick. His long, dark hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of his head, letting his amazing bone-structure be on full display. He wore a long, black trench coat that made him blend into the darkness around him perfectly.

The men didn’t bother to introduce themselves to me as they signed the contract. After signing, they all made their way to a booth in the back where they must have been sitting. Noah stayed behind with myself and Karius. Presumably to gloat or something. I snuck a glance at the tattoos that covered his muscular arms. His black tank top hid the tattoos on his chest and back.

“Like what you see princess?” Noah laughed.

“huh?” I spluttered out.

“So you weren’t just staring at my arms?” Noah mocked sarcastically.

“Of course not asshole.” I barked back

“Sure. I believe you.” Noah said with a smirk across his face. His stupidly attractive face.

“Well I see this is off to a great start.” Karius sighed as he got up to leave Poppy’s. “Oh and V! You will be staying with the OMNS guys until this job is done. Just to ensure neither of you steal this job from each other.”

Pure outrage coursed through my veins as the realisation of what K just announced pounded in my brain.

“Fucking excuse me?” I screamed.

“You heard me V. I know what you’re like.” Karius called back over his shoulder as he walked through the front door of Poppy’s.

I face-planted onto the bar and wrapped my arms over my face. The last thing I wanted was to be in close quarters with these men. Especially Noah. My lifestyle revolved around me being alone. That’s how I work. No attachments. They only hurt you. I found that out the hard way. If I stay with the OMNS crew for the entire job, then that would be for  months. I would probably lose my apartment and have nowhere to go. Fucking Karius.

“Come and meet the guys princess.” Noah commanded once Karius had left.

“Fine.” I mumbled. I was really getting sick of him calling me that. But then why did I feel all warm inside when he said it?

Walking over to the table in the corner, I began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. I was the only girl here in a group full of some of the most dangerous men in the Concrete Jungle. Was this really a good idea? Probably not.

They all spoke quietly to each other. No doubt complaining about having to work with me.  As Noah and I approached the table, the conversation stopped as Folio and one of the guys I didn’t recognise shuffled up the bench to make room for Noah to sit. On the other side Jolly, Nick and the other unnamed man shuffled and made room for me. At least they were considerate enough to do that for me.

“Guys this is Vania. As you know, she used to run with Davis’s crew. She will be running with us on this job.” Noah introduced.

A chorus of “hey” and “Hi” echoed around the dark booth.

“Jolly, Nick, Folio and myself you already know. But you haven’t met Matt and Bryan yet.” Noah gestured to the two unnamed men. “Bryan is our wheels and Matt is in charge of seeing how logistical and plausible plans are to execute.” The two men raised their hands in a wave to me. I weakly smiled back. I wasn’t about to make friends with these people.

It turned out that the rest of the OMNS crew were actually tolerable and that it was just Noah who was a colossal pain in my ass. We all talked for about an hour, retelling stories from other jobs we had worked on, but that just became a pissing contest between myself and Noah as we continually tried to outdo each other, recounting jobs we had stolen from each other. I was starting to grow tired of his bullshit and wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and go to sleep in my bed.

“So what’s the plan then?” I asked. “Do you assholes have a secret lair somewhere that you’re going to take me to after you’ve kidnapped me?”

“Look, I get that you don’t want to work with us, but you don’t gave to be a bitch about it.” Noah sighed.

“I just want to get this over with so I can get my credits and move on.” I snapped in reply.

“And so do we. It’s not like we exactly want to hang with you.” Noah basically shouted back.

“I see that manners aren’t something you get taught on the pig farm? Is that right, pig?” I barked.

“Doubt you would know since a princess like you never wants to get her hands dirty.” He smirked. God he was cocky.

“You wouldn’t know how to do a job discreetly even if it was worth a trillion credits asshat. You make too much mess.” I chuckled back.

“What because I like to make sure a job is done right and there are no witnesses left? Because I’m thorough with my work?” He fought.

“No because you like to leave a trail so people fear you. It’s pathetic.” I laughed.

“You’re inability to work with other people is pathetic princess.” Noah stated simply.

He knew he struck a nerve. He always knew when he struck a nerve. Yet he always pushed it. Luckily I didn’t have enough time to launch myself over the table to claw his eyes out like I really fucking wanted to as Nick intervened, “Alright guys. Lets motor.”

“Alright guys. Lets motor.” Nick intervened.

“Agreed.” Noah bluntly stated without breaking eye contact with me.

The walk to the cars outside was silent as everyone got into their respective vehicles. Folio rode a bike similar to mine. But whilst mine was pink and black, his was completely black in colour with red LEDs on the sides. Pretty sick to be honest. Jolly rode in a large black SUV with blackout windows that appeared to be bullet proof. Nick rode with Matt and Bryan in a large metal-framed armoured SUV that looked similar to Jolly’s but had clearly been modified. Noah’s car was much more understated. He opened the door to a low black car with tinted windows. It was very sleek and almost flat looking. God he was so annoyingly flashy.

I trailed behind the others on the way to their base. The neon glow of the Concrete Jungle embraced me with opened arms as it sat below the star-filled night sky. The skyscrapers belonging to suit corporations painted the skyline in a halo of varying colours as each fought for your attention. This was always my favourite parts of jobs. The silent ride home. The quiet. The peace. It was the only time I was ever separated from the crime-filled life I lead.

Right in the centre of all the chaos in the Concrete Jungle stood a tomato red skyscraper that belonged to ERRA. They were absolutely untouchable here. They were the fucking kings. The red glow always held your stare. It felt like the building itself was watching you. ERRA had that kind of effect on people. You always feel watched while they are around.

This neon landscape has been my home my whole life. I don’t remember a life without knowing the inner-workings of this place inside and out. My dad had never been around and my mother died about seven years ago in an accident. The circumstances surrounding her death had always been suspicious, but I never questioned it. It wasn’t like she was ever a good mother to me. Shortly after that I met Davis, a fellow orphan who was also struggling to pay rent. From there we met Lana and Steven and they welcomed us with open arms into their crew and the rest was history.

Now I ride solo.

A loud bang echoed over the sound of the traffic around us. The armoured car Nick, Matt and Bryan were in veered off course and into the next lane as it looked like they were trying to swerve out of the way of something. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the night.

Noah, Jolly and Folio all pulled in behind the armoured car so I followed suit. A large grey truck with ERRA painted along its side in their trademark tomato red colour, was coming straight towards us with a man in a helmet hanging out of the window shooting at us from his weaponed arm implants.  

Noah got out from the passenger side of his car with a large assault rifle and began opening fire on the oncoming vehicle. The rest of OMNS followed his lead. I, however, didn’t have my gun on me so I wouldn’t be much use to them. Instead I got back on my bike and rode past them, planning on assessing the threat from a further distance and hopefully finding a weak spot.

“Where the fuck are you going!” Noah called out after me. But I ignored him. I wasn’t used to have to explain myself mid-combat.

The truck had stopped opposite the parked convoy, about thirty feet between both crews, and three men had exited the truck and were all firing at the OMNS guys. A hatch opened up on the roof and a turret was raised. Gunfire rained down all around me as I tried my best to dodge other cars and bullets.

Screams and yells from other cars both directed at me and the carnage happening further back echoed in the chaos. Bullets whizzed through the air after me. Some hitting the other people in cars and some lodging into the road beneath me.

“Fuck!” Matt exclaimed as he and Bryan lowered themselves back into the armoured car.

Nick was sat in the back of the armoured car trying desperately to hack into the turret to disable it, but was appearing to have no luck. This didn’t surprise me as ERRA had recently upgraded all of their security measures. I had found that out the hard way earlier in the night as a mine nearly blew me to shreds when I was sneaking into the back of the warehouse.

Fuck, I thought to myself, meant that they knew that I had broken into the warehouse and stole the chip. So I was basically fucked.

Jolly disappeared back into his SUV for a second but reappeared with a massive shotgun attached to his arm and had started firing at the men operating the turret, successfully taking out two of them, leaving only one on the turret and three remaining on the ground, as well as the driver and the man in the passenger seat.

I dismounted my bike and ran round the back of the truck. Using my Lynx Paws upgrade, I easily jumped up onto the roof of the truck without making a sound. I swiftly engaged my mantis blades and took out the final man operating the turret with a quick slash. He crumbled to his knees as blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. His bottom half fell to the floor below the truck as his top half remained on the roof next to the now unused turret.

Meanwhile, Noah had taken out two of the men on the ground and Jolly had made quick work of the  third man.

The man in the passenger side would be more difficult to take out. And besides, he had noticed my presence on the roof when half of his crewmate’s body fell to the ground and had started firing up into the roof. This however, left him undefended on his side and allowed me to swing down and slash open his throat. The driver made to grab me, when suddenly, a gunshot rang out as he slumped forward. Blood trickled from a bullet hole in his forehead.

Silence fell over the group as we surveyed the damage surrounding us.

Three innocent bystanders had been killed in the gunfire. Blood coated the road. Following the trail with my eyes, I noticed that there was a puddle of blood below Folio’s bike but no sign of Folio. Fuck. If he had been killed it would be my fault. This job was going to be absolute hell.

I ran over to his bike and saw that he was knelt on the ground clutching his side and taking short and rapid breaths. He had been hit but wasn’t dead… yet. Thank fuck.

“Let me see.” I stated, touching his shaking shoulder gently.

“Fuck you.” She spat shakily.

“Folio, let me help.” I pleaded.

He cautiously moved his hand and blood trickled to the floor. It looked like the bullet was still inside.

“I can help him if we get him to your hideout quickly.” I gushed to Noah who was looking at me with eyes filled with utter hatred.

“you won’t lay a damn finger on him.” He snarled.

“Do you want him to die, Noah?” I challenged. “Because if I don’t help him, he will die. And I can guarantee that it will be very slow and very painful.”

A pause.

“Or I can guarantee you that he will live happily ever after and will get to see another day if you let me help him.” I attempted to persuade him with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine but we need to load his bike into Matt and Bryan’s car or  Folio will never forgive us if we leave it here.” Noah caved with an exasperated sigh.

Upon arriving at the OMNS hideout, a large steel screen door opened to let the seven of us into the building. It wasn’t anything special. It looked like a car garage that was attached to a tattoo shop. It wasn’t where I pictured OMNS operating out of. I’d always thought of it as more similar to ERRA’s layout. I should have known OMNS wasn’t the skyscraper type seeing as they already had two of them in their crew in the forms of Jolly and Noah.

The garage was large. They easily had enough space for their own vehicles and about five others. Drawers and shelves lined each of the walls, which were all painted a deep purple colour. The neon lights that illuminated the room cast a blue hue over everything.

Matt and Bryan hauled Folio out of the back of the armoured car as Jolly cleared off one of the workbenches to use as a makeshift bed for him. Noah stomped straight through the smaller door in the right hand wall, slamming it behind him, as soon as he got out of his car. Asshole.

Nick followed after him after muttering something to the rest of OMNS quiet enough so that I wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

Folio groaned and writhed around on the table in pain. I began cutting away his black t-shirt in order to inspect the wound. It was a clean shot. No tearing. Lucky for him. However, the bullet had not gone through all of the way and had appeared to be lodged in between two of his ribs. I would need to cut the wound wider in order to gain enough access to remove the bullet. Less lucky for him.

“Do you guys have anything that will nock him out for a few hours?” I asked Matt, Bryan and Jolly who had all hung around to keep an eye on myself and Folio.

“We only have immune-suppressors here. But I can go see if Nick and Noah have some?” Matt replied.

“Be quick. I think it goes without saying that your boy here is in a fuck tonne of pain.” I said.

With that, Matt jogged out of the door Nick and Noah had left through. About five minutes passed when the door slammed back open and a frustrated looking Noah barged back through with a brown paper bag.

“Here. This should nock him out.” He snarled at me, “Get it yourself next time princess. I don’t work for you. And neither do my guys.” He then turned back around and left through the door he came through.

Rolling my eyes at him, I got to work with giving the meds to Folio who was still writing in pain.

The meds helped tremendously and I was able to remove the bullet from Folio with little to no fuss at all. It was easy without lord asshat, Noah, breathing down my neck or generally pissing me off.

After stitching Folio’s side back up, Matt, Bryan and Jolly moved him into his room so he would be comfortable.

I was then brought into their home. I was greeted with a large, open-plan room that contained a kitchen with a large island that extended for most of the back wall and had enough stools surrounding the breakfast bar side of it for a small army. On the opposite wall was a living area with what appeared to be a one-way window that wrapped around the outer wall of the room. Impressive. Expensive.

The door on the right hand wall slammed open and Noah stormed through. A scowl etched across his face in replacement of his signature smirk. The glare he sent me bore holes into my skull.

“What the fuck was that!” He yelled while stomping towards me with his finger pointed at me accusingly.

“Huh?” I replied.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me princess. Back there. On the road. You bailed. Who the fuck does that!” He argued back.

“I didn’t bail. If you remember correctly. That is if you didn’t hit your fucking head you delusional asshole. I came back and killed the people you fucking couldn’t.” I retaliated furiously.

Noah started laughing. Fucking laughing.

“No princess. You pussied out and came back when the fight was easier.” Noah chuckled menacingly.

“Go fuck yourself!” I screamed back at him.

“You are one of us now. Whether you like it or not. We protect each other. That’s the deal.” Noah snarled. Getting right in my face. “And you. Fucking. Bailed.” He punctuated with a poke to my chest.

“I wouldn’t have had to do that if your fucking scout had done his fucking job.” I snarled back at him.

“Yeah? You mean our scout who is currently upstairs out cold because you fucking bailed and he got fucking shot? That scout?” He whispered menacingly.

“I didn’t bail. I covered the back Noah.” I said in response.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night princess.” He replied without breaking eye contact.

Silence fell between us as my eye flickered from his brown eyes to his lips that were incredibly close to my own. I could see Noah’s eyes doing the same.

“Now I see why you ride solo. Selfish bitch.” He muttered as he backed away from me.

“The fuck did you just say to me asshole?” I screamed as I followed him.

“You heard me princess.” He replied with a grin across his face.

“I don’t think I did because you would have to be a complete fucking moron to say what you just said.” I yelled at him.

“I think we both know who the moron here is princess.” Noah growled back at me.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” I snarled in reply.

“All I’m saying is that it’s no wonder you ride solo because who the fuck in their right minds would want to be in a crew with a selfish, backstabbing bitch like you.” Noah Growled with a smirk on his gorgeous face.

Before I had time to slap his stupid face, an incoming call tore through the silence that lingered after his statement.

Chapter 2 Anything > Human Masterlist Main Masterlist

[darksigns-exe]

i put a spell on you - incubus!noah x f!reader

friday, october 11th 2024 8 PM CEST

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[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter 9 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

As I delicately dab the gauze against Nick's left eyebrow, I can feel it nearly slipping from my trembling hands. The tension is palpable as I firmly grasp his stubbled chin, forcing his gaze to meet mine for just a moment before his eyes dart back to the action unfolding across the ice. 

It all went down so fast.

In a flash, Sanchez slung the puck past the goalie and into the net, eliciting a roar from the crowd. But the celebration was short-lived, as the clash of bodies around the goal quickly turned chaotic. The Bruns defense swarmed Sanchez, shoving him roughly, while another player trips up Ruffilo in a blatant display of aggression. And then, as Nick is getting to his feet, one of the opposing players "accidentally" strikes him across the face with the sharp end of his stick, drawing blood and a collective gasp from the onlookers. It takes the quick action of Dominick leaping over the boards, and the restraint of Sebastian, to keep Karlsson from pummeling the offending player then and there. 

With a few deft motions, I managed to clear away the blood, Ruffilo's injury was not as severe as it had initially appeared. Relieved to see that no stitches would be necessary, I turned my attention to Jack, giving him a reassuring thumbs up. Jack responds with a curt nod, his gaze shifting towards the ice as he silently communicated his readiness to get the game back underway. Taking the cue, I reached out and gave Nick a firm pat on the shoulder, prompting him to swiftly leap back over the boards and rejoin his teammates on the rink. Turning back to my makeshift medical station, I set about the methodical task of cleaning up the scattered gauze pads and securely closing the saline solution. 

Noah has been skating past my post repeatedly today, each time i've tried to ignore his presence, it's been a mere two weeks since our fateful universal date. Since that night, we've been utterly unable to keep our hands off one another, our bodies drawn together by an irresistible magnetic force that threatens to consume us both. 

Although we've managed to keep our situationship secret for now the ever-present anxiety of being discovered hangs over me like a dark cloud. The thrill is intoxicating, yet the guilt gnaws at my conscience. I know deep down that what we share is wrong, taboo, a flagrant flouting of the rules - and yet, in his presence, all rational thought seems to evaporate. 

The way he moves, the way he looks at me, ignites a fire within that I find impossible to extinguish. 

 The words breach of contract. Misconduct. All flash in my brain when I think about it, but they vanish shortly after his hands touch my skin. One misstep, one slip-up, could shatter the fragile web we've woven - and the consequences of that are almost too terrifying to contemplate.

I’m no longer the only nurse on the team. McGuirre joined us last week, he is smart and funny. Recently divorced from his husband he took the job for a fresher start. Since then, each time Noah has needed a look over or some small injury, I have him handle it instead. The exchange of care helps quell the anxiety in my chest.

But it doesn't stop my heart from racing every time he looks my way.

  This game is falling apart and it's putting both the fans and the players on edge. The players have already engaged in a staggering five fights. We are down by three points, and the frustration is etched on each of their faces. Lawrence, has already broken two hockey sticks, cracking them across his knee with roaring yell. Karlsson, has found himself in the penalty box twice, forced to sit out crucial moments due to his overzealous play. In contrast, Noah, though not directly involved in any altercations, has been an aggressive presence, getting in the faces of multiple opposing players, unwilling to back down from the challenge. 

Even my father is visibly on edge, his cheeks flushed not from the chill of the rink but from the sheer tension of the moment. Up in the visitors' box, a group of recruiters from the Olympics, accompanied by the team's public relations manager, have their eyes trained intently on the game, focusing particularly on the standout players, Ruffilo and Sanchez. With each impressive play made, the recruiters can be seen pointing and discussing animatedly. 

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, the dejected players trudge off the ice, their shoulders hunched and their faces etched with frustration. The heavy footfalls echo through the empty halls, punctuated by the occasional angry muttering or the slamming of a door. Once inside the cramped, dimly lit locker room, the pent-up emotions finally erupt, with players hurling their sweat-soaked jerseys and slamming their fists against the metal lockers. The cacophony of crashing gear and furious shouts creates a chaotic symphony. It doesn’t take me long to put away the supplies and gather my keys and phone from my locker. Heading out quick.

As I aimlessly scrolled through my phone, the bright glow from the screen casting an eerie blue light across my face, I was completely oblivious to the looming presence approaching from the side. I’m tired and just want some late night dinner and trashy TV. Utterly absorbed in the mindless distraction of social media, I failed to notice the large, imposing figure drawing nearer until a sudden, vice-like grip seized my arm, yanking me forward with surprising force. Startled, I glanced up to find myself staring at a towering, sulking, Noah. His fingers, still damp and wrinkled from what was presumably a recent shower, dug painfully into the soft flesh of my bicep as he roughly dragged me along, his broad shoulders and thick neck tight with frustration. The pungent, earthy scent of his body wash, a musky, woodsy fragrance, assaulted my nostrils, his shoulders red frome the heart of his shower. 

We approach the storage closet, my head instinctively swivels around, scanning the empty hallway for any prying eyes that might catch. The coast is clear, and with a gentle nudge, he guides me through the doorway, clicking the door shut behind us. The small, enclosed space is dimly lit, barely holding all the storage let alone two human bodies.

“You’ve been ignoring me, little fox.” The dark, brooding intensity in his eyes is intense as he stalks towards me, his lithe, predatory movements leaving no doubt about his purpose. Droplets cling to the silky strands of his bangs, which sweep alluringly across his sharp cheekbones. I feel my back press against the sturdy wooden shelves behind me, the practice cones and sports gear rattling slightly from the contact.

Trapped, I try to stammer out a weak explanation, insisting that this is "nothing personal, just professional." But the tremor in my voice betrays the growing arousal I feel pooling between my thighs. As his hungry gaze rakes over my body.

 As he inhales sharply, a low, rumbling growl escapes his lips, further stoking the fire within me. “Turn around.”

My heart is hammering in my ears and I can barely register to move. “Wh-what?”

"Turn. Around." he commanded, his voice low and gruff. Slowly, I pushed off from the shelf, my eyes fixed on him as my body turned. He was impatient, taking my hips in his strong, calloused hands and spinning me the rest of the way around, pulling my backside firmly against his hips. I could feel his throbbing cock pressing against my ass, and a needy whine escaped my lips at the thought of him filling me up once more.

With one swift, powerful thrust, he pushed me into the shelf, I braced, pushing some of the gear aside as my body jolted forward. It still wasn't enough - I wanted more, craving the delicious, almost painful sensation of being stretched and dominated by this man. 

His breath hits the shell of my ear as his long fingers grasp my hair and pull my head back to meet his lips. “Say it,” he growls, “Say you want me to fuck you.” I whimper, it's all my brain can do, my ability to form words is short circuiting. “Speak words, little fox.” He says tugging my hair, causing just a quick nip of pain at my scalp.

“Please, Noah,” I beg, it's enough. Noah's free hand swiftly tugs down my pants and underwear, exposing me. Kicking my legs apart, he decisively slides his hand up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, zeroing in on the throbbing center of my arousal. Without hesitation, he presses a long, skilled finger directly onto my sensitive clit, gently massaging the slick, swollen nub in firm, circular motions. The sensation is electric, and I can't help but gasp as he suddenly plunges that same finger deep inside me, filling me to the knuckle. I can feel the cool metal of his ring as it grazes my most sensitive walls, and he pulls back only to push forward again with more force. My body responds eagerly, clenching and fluttering around his intrusion as white-hot pleasure radiates through me. The combination of his confident touch, the fullness within me, and the intense stimulation on my most sensitive spots has me teetering on the edge of ecstasy, my breath coming in short, needy pants.

As his hand slowly withdraws, he carefully cups a portion of my glistening wetness between his fingertips, savoring the delicate texture and warmth. Releasing his grip on my hair, I turn my head just in time to witness him hastily shoving down his sweats, his throbbing cock springing back to meet the taut skin of his abdomen. With a deliberate motion, he coats the swollen tip and rigid shaft with my own arousal. My eyes roll back and I bite down hard on my lower lip, enthralled by the erotically charged sight. Bracing myself against his hip, I can feel him guiding his pulsing length to my entrance, sinking in the moment he finds the perfect spot. There is no hesitation, no gentle buildup - he simply begins driving his hips forward, the slapping of skin against skin echoing through the charged atmosphere as he grips me tightly by the hips.

Rising up on the balls of my feet in a desperate bid to feel him buried within me to the absolute hilt. The overwhelming, all-encompassing need to be ripped apart, to be used and claimed with utter abandon, pulses through my veins like molten desire. He answers my frantic, wanton movements with grunts and pants, his grip tightening around my waist until I can feel the sharp crests of my hips pinching under the sheer force of his grasp. 

I arch my back, grinding myself against him with wanton abandon, lost in the ecstasy of being utterly possessed. 

The intense sensations are almost overwhelming, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me as he continues his relentless pounding. I can barely catch my breath, whimpering and gasping in a desperate attempt to hold back the screams that threaten to escape. My fingers claw at nothing, grasping for something, anything, to anchor myself as my body is wracked with one earth-shattering orgasm after another. The backs of my thighs burn from holding myself up on my toes, but I refuse to give in, needing to feel every inch of him filling me, stretching me to my limits. 

His large hands grip my backside, kneading the flesh as he pulls me forward to meet each of his powerful thrusts. I can imagine the lewd sight of his glistening cock disappearing inside me, leaving me raw and thoroughly claimed. The only sounds that fill the air are his grunts, growls, and heavy panting as he takes what he needs, completely consumed. 

Deep within, I feel a stirring of something more profound - a dawning realization that he is claiming me, body and soul, in a way no other man ever could. With each punishing stroke, he is staking his indelible mark, making me his and his alone.

In what feels like an eternity but is mere moments, he lets out one last guttural groan, his hips surging forward in a final, forceful thrust. I can feel the tension in his body as it quivers and strains, every muscle going taut before finally releasing in a shuddering wave of relief. Collapsing over me, he pants heavily, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. We stay locked together, suspended, my legs trembling as I slowly lower them to the floor. The warmth of his release coats my insides, the sensation both foreign and familiar as it seeps into every sensitive crevice. Time seems to stand still in that hazy, blissful moment, the world narrowing down to just the two of us. Finally, reluctantly, we begin to part.

He helps bring my pants back up as I fix the hem of my shirt. His arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me in head tucking over my shoulder. He doesn't say anything. Just lets out a shaky breath before kissing the side of my neck and turning around to leave.

As I reluctantly bid farewell to Noah, a profound sense of melancholy washes over me, shaking my entire being more intensely than the passionate encounter we had just shared. The tender goodbye lingers, its emotional weight far exceeding the physical intimacy we had experienced. Glancing down, I notice my phone and keys strewn haphazardly on the floor. I can't even recall the moment I dropped them. 

Steeling myself, I step out of the closet, turning to my left only to witness Noah vanish back towards the locker rooms. In that instant, I'm painfully aware that I'm not alone - Ruffilo and Karlsson stand in the hallway, their eyebrows raised in a silent expression of surprise and judgment as our eyes meet. My cheeks flush with a deep, burning crimson as I spin on my heel, heart pounding, and quickly make my way down the hall towards the parking lot, desperate to escape the prying eyes and the weight of the moment.

[artificialbreezy]

a little snip below the cut!

“Noah, if i’m doing this, we are doing it my way. I am Roisin, Princess of Sunstone. I am an equal to you, and you will not treat me any less. All planning for Shadowfell’s future will be made together. I had a voice in my palace, that will not change here. Am I understood?” Her voice was stern, never turning to face the man behind her.

“You will have whatever your heart wants here, I will make sure of it. You will be seen as nothing less than my equal, future queen of Shadowfell. If anyone has an issue with that, it will be handled. Your voice will be heard here as well, I promise you that.” She heard his footsteps stop behind her, close enough that if she turned she’d run right into his chest.

“Very well. If we agree, let’s go tell them we’ll do it. For the safety of my people, for the integrity of my family I will take your hand and plan the rest of my life here.”

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | part 9

Pairing: Samurai!Noah x Princess!Reader Series masterpost here✨ Word count: 7k

Tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of angst at the beginning, descriptions of wounds and blood, fluff, sexual content (oral sex with fem. receiving, praise kink ("good girl"), hints at noah having a breeding kink, p in v unprotected).

Please, be advised this part contains a scene involving shibari (bondage) and this might not be everybody's tea regardless of what it means for noah and his princess. I've approached it with care and love, and there's obviously consent from her side and noah is being gentle and attentive through it all, but I understand if some people are not comfortable with reader being tied up while there's sexual intercourse, hence this note.

I've also revised this very quickly, so apologies if you find any typos or mistakes.

Additional useful info: - Zabuton: cushion/pillow. - Omamori: good luck charm meaning to protect.

A wisp of smoke drifted around me, curling from the incense sticks that burned softly in the temple. 

I had lost track of time, and with that loss, some of the anguish that consumed me began to ebb away. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t quite that. Maybe it was the presence of the temple and the protective amulet in my hand that had lulled me into a fragile sense of security, a belief that everything would be okay. 

I found myself in a sort of meditative trance. It had started as a prayer, my eyes closed, my fingers wrapped around the omamori, and my lips whispering fervent invocations. The image of Noah’s bleeding chest had been almost unbearable, but now, the panic had receded, if only momentarily. My breathing had steadied, and while a deep sadness still weighed on me, the panic no longer had me in its relentless grip. 

Nearby, the elderly woman who had given me the amulet was engaged in her rituals, her presence palpable not only through the bowl of prayers she tended but also through the calming energy she radiated and I could feel even with my eyes closed. 

It had taken me a moment to recognize the old woman—it was the same one Noah and I had met earlier that morning in the dining room. Rika had mentioned that the woman and her husband were the oldest couple in the community, residing in a small house behind the temple. They spent their days watching over the community and aiding those in need. 

Though I hadn’t asked for help, at least not with words, the old woman had appeared by my side as soon as I collapsed in front of the altar. Even without exchanging a single word, I felt her presence, a silent guardian over me and, most importantly, over Noah. 

My soul and heart were not alone in their pleas to the gods for Noah and for a just resolution to the battle ocurring beyond these walls. 

The tears had long since dried on my cheeks. A breeze flowed through the open doors and expansive windows of the temple, growing stronger until it startled me, causing my heart to momentarily freeze and my voice to catch in my throat.

The fight was over.

As the wind softened into a gentle caress, I refocused on the amulet in my hand, gripping it tightly once more and resuming my prayers. 

I lost track of how much time passed while I remained there, kneeling with my hands resting in my lap. The fear that had taken root in me was so overwhelming that I didn’t notice the breeze transform into an even tenderer touch. For a fleeting moment, I felt wrapped in a cocoon of protection and calm.

But the silence was abruptly broken by a voice from the entrance to the temple behind me.

“He will live.”

The omamori slipped from my fingers as I heard Noah’s voice, a jolt of shock coursing through me. I sprang to my feet, steadying myself on trembling knees, and turned around.

There he was, not a ghost, but the man I loved, covered in blood. 

His clothes were stained and torn, with small patches of crimson on his cheeks and jaw, cuts marring his left thigh and arms, and a deep wound still oozing blood on his chest. My breath caught in my throat, and a sob escaped as I rushed to him. He let his katana fall and pulled me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me with desperation.

I didn’t care about the dirt clinging to his clothes or the blood smeared across his skin. All I cared about was the warmth of his body against mine, the fierce reality of him being here with me. I clung to him, struggling to contain the sobs that had built up during his fight and my anxious wait in the temple. I could sense the fatigue in his embrace, the faint tremor of exhaustion.

It was the soft, resigned sigh that escaped his lips that made me pull back slightly. Noah’s gaze met mine, filled with a tumult of anguish, fatigue, and a lingering fear of having disappointed me. With a weary hand, he reached up and gently wiped the blood from my cheek with his thumb, a troubled wrinkle forming on his forehead as if it pained him to see me tainted by the violence that had marked out lives. 

“My father,” I began, clutching the lapels of Noah’s tattered combat suit, my voice trembling. 

“I spared his life,” Noah murmured, his voice muffled as he buried his face in my hair. “He’s wounded, but he’ll survive.”

The relief that surged through me was like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had gripped my heart. But the word ‘wounded’ caused me to pull away slightly, my eyes instinctively drawn to the gash on Noah’s chest. 

“You need someone to tend to you,” I said urgently, my eyes filling with tears. The sight of him, battered and bloodied, was breaking my heart. The thought of him being hurt, especially by no other than my father, was too much. 

“I’m fine.”

“Noah, you’re losing blood.” I started to ask how he had managed to make it all the way to the temple in such a state, but then, he faltered. 

His posture sagged, as if the effort of standing and speaking was too much. The sight of his vulnerability drove a deeper ache into my chest. I took a step closer, reaching out to steady him, my hands gripping his arms. My panic flared again. 

I guided him to sit on the floor as I watched how every movement was draining him. The old woman appeared almost as if by magic, and in a second she was directing Noah to remain seated as she placed a small zabuton on the floor. 

With a quiet authority, she instructed him to lie down, and Noah, wincing, carefully reclined. 

“Open his shirt,” the woman instructed. My heart was pounding in my chest. The voices in my head screamed that this wasn’t the end, that there was still a chance I could lose him. 

The cut on Noah’s chest, while not as deep as I’d thought initially, had been bleeding for a while, and his exhausting only compounded the gravity of his condition. I remained momentarily paralyzed, caught in the horror of the situation, in the thought that it could get worse, but Noah’s groan of pain snapped me back to reality. He was trying to open the lapels of his suit, but the effort was too much for him. I knelt beside him, my hands trembling as I gently pulled aside the fabric. Every tug brought a pained wince from Noah, the material sticking to the wound, making the task even more agonizing. 

Once his chest was exposed, the woman reappeared with a bowl filled with water and a wooden box. From the box, she retrieved a handful of gauze, a roll of thread, and a needle. Noah turned his head slightly towards her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and discomfort. 

“It needs to be stitched,” she announced with a calm resolve. 

Noah’s shoulders sagged with the weight of his exhaustion, and he threw his head back, his eyes searching for mine. I reached out, my fingers entwining with his. I could see the fatigue and the faint hope in his gaze. Despite the grime, blood, and sweat, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. When he tried to smile at me, it took all my strength to remain upright, my legs feeling like they might buckle beneath me had I been standing.

“We’re free,” he whispered, his voice a fragile thread of reassurance.

As his words settled into my heart, a couple of tears slipped from my eyes and traced a path down my cheeks, falling onto Noah’s hand, which I had brought to my lips. I kissed his knuckles gently, each touch a silent vow of my love and devotion. The old woman’s skilled hands began the delicate work of stitching, but for now, all I could focus on was the warmth of Noah’s hand in mine and the promise of a future where we would face everything together.

Nearly two hours later, Noah and I were finally back in the house.  

The walk back had been arduous. The wounds Noah sustained from my father’s swords were extensive, not only requiring stitches on his chest, but also on his left bicep, where the cut had been particularly deep and concerning. The old woman at the temple had worked meticulously, disinfecting and stitching each wound to prevent infection. We’d stayed at the temple for a while. Noah had eaten, hydrated, and rested a little before we made our way back to the village. 

Back in the house, I helped Noah into the bath, carefully washing his wounds and bruises. Despite the delicate nature of the task, Noah didn’t utter a single complaint. Instead, he watched with a quiet intensity as my hands moved the sponge over his battered body.

There was a profound intimacy in this act of care that transcended even any physical union. Washing him was a way for me to express my care and love for him. The softness of the sponge against his skin, the careful way I tended to each bruise and scrape, felt like a sacred ritual.

As I glided the sponge across his shoulder, Noah reached out and took my wrist gently, placing two soft kisses on it. The gesture brought a smile to my face, warming the chill of the night and the embarrassment I felt at seeing him so wounded. Noticing my reluctance, he drew me closer until he had me leaning over him, his lips finding mine in a deep, reassuring kiss. His hand rested at the back of my head, grounding me in the moment and making the pain and worry fade.

In different circumstances, I would have discarded my clothes and joined him in the tub, oblivious to the overflow of water and the cramped space. 

Touching his wet hair, I rested my forehead against his and murmured, “The water’s getting cold.” 

He nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and affection. 

A while later, I was in bed, sitting cross-legged, feeling the weight of recent events settle heavily on my shoulders. My gaze flitted uncertainly around the room, not knowing where to fix it. On our katanas? On the dress from our outing to the market, now tainted by Ren’s dagger? Perhaps on the Daruma doll on top of a drawer, a token of good luck and protection Grandma had gifted Noah?

The last few days played on a relentless loop in my mind. The terrifying thought that we might lose everything to my father seemed to have passed, but the echoes of those moments clung to me. Only hours ago, I had feared that Noah and I might be torn apart, our future snatched from our grasp. Now, the realization that we were finally free, that our future lay ahead of us, felt almost surreal.

I glanced at the window, slightly ajar, through which a gentle night breeze flowed in. The room was bathed in soft, muted light from the street below, casting elongated shadows that danced quietly against the walls. Noah emerged from the bathroom, his body wrapped in boxer shorts, the faint scent of soap and water mingling in the air. Despite the healing of his wounds, his spirit was battle-weary and his mind exhausted from the ravages we had experienced together the past few days. 

It was hard to believe that four days ago, only the two of us knew of the love between us. Now, it felt like the secret had been shared with half the world. 

Tears welled up in my eyes, a blend of relief and the residual fear that had held me captive only hours before. They slipped down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of anxiety. I hurriedly brushed them away before Noah had a chance to see them. 

Shaking his head, he dropped the towel he had used to dry his hair, and knelt at the foot of the bed. His hand reached out, beckoning me to move closer.

I shifted my position, moving to kneel at the foot of the bed so that Noah’s face was slightly below mine. His gaze was filled with adoration and a quiet plea, his brown eyes shimmering with love and promises. He touched my cheek with a comforting caress, sliding his fingers to my chin as he softly spoke.

“We should sleep,” he said, his voice soothing and weary.

I took his wrist and guided his hand to my cheek, leaning into his touch as if drawing strength from it. I closed my eyes, pressing my face against his open palm.

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“What do you want to do, then?” his voice held a tenderness that was as reassuring as it was gentle, a promise that he was ready to fulfill my every need. It was as though he could sense the depth of my love for him, the way it filled every corner of my heart. 

Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.

I let out a sigh, not one of heaviness but of pure, unadulterated love. My feelings for him had always been intense, even before I came of age, and knowing that our future was no longer just a dream but a reality filled me with a profound sense of joy and anticipation. The thought of spending the rest of our lives together made my heart flutter with an exhilarating mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Just be with you,” I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Make sure you’re okay.” My gaze drifted to the cut on his chest, now bandaged but still red and angry. The pain was evident in his features, despite his efforts to remain stoic. He was a Samurai, accustomed to enduring pain, but I could see through his brave façade. His grimaces and fleeting glances betrayed the discomfort he was trying to mask.

I gently traced my fingers across his chest, careful to avoid the wounded area. My touch was meant to be a balm, a soothing caress that offered him comfort and reassurance. The cut would leave a scar—a reminder of the sacrifice and courage he had shown, a testament to his willingness to go to great lengths for us.

“I’m fine,” he said with a soft smile, the warmth of his expression gradually melting away the tension in his face. “But I can be better.”

My eyes met his, my fingers resting near where his heart beat beneath his skin.

“How?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

“By being inside you,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that momentarily pulled me from my worry. His words made me frown slightly and tilt my head in curiosity.

“But you’re hurt,” I said, my voice firm but tender. I wasn’t opposed to his desire—my own wishes aligned closely with his. However, the reality of his injuries weighed heavily on me. He had fought bravely only hours earlier, and I didn’t want him to overexert himself. “I wouldn’t want you to…”

“I’ll be nice and gentle,” he interrupted, his voice filled with an earnest promise.

And that was all I needed.

Suddenly, a gentle smile spread across my face, mirroring the one on Noah's. This was a moment we both needed—something deeply personal and healing. I couldn’t imagine denying him anything. Not now, not ever.

In what felt like slow motion, Noah rose from his seated position. His tall frame and muscular build were even more striking as he stood before me. I blinked slowly, almost reflexively, and watched the bulge in his boxers pulse. His touch on my chin was light and almost imperceptible, his fingertips grazing my cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Take off your robe,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding.

I obeyed without hesitation, slipping out of the silk robe and revealing the cotton panties beneath —the only piece of clothing I was wearing—. Noah’s eyes softened as they drifted over my exposed body, over my breasts, but there was a glint of hunger in his gaze that spoke of a deep, insatiable need.

“Show me you still trust me,” he said next.

My heart raced, a mix of apprehension and relief coursing through me. This was who we were, what we had become together. After the chaos and bloodshed, this was where we needed to be—close, connected, and unafraid.

I moved to the edge of the bed, offering my wrists to him. I looked up, meeting his warm gaze, silently pledging my trust and surrender.

Noah’s expression was filled with pride and a hint of relief. He stepped away briefly, opening the sliding-door closet where we had stored the clothes Rika and her husband had gifted us. When he returned, he held a collection of belts in his hands. 

He selected a black one from the pile and laid the others beside me on the mattress. He knelt on the floor, aligning himself with my height, and began to tie my wrists with a single-column tie, our eyes locking in a silent exchange of understanding.

“Can you lie down for me?” he asked softly once he was done.

I nodded, and as I settled back onto the mattress, Noah hovered over me momentarily, asking me to lift my head for a couple of seconds so that he could push my hair away to ensure it wouldn’t be caught or tangled. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Noah pressed a kiss to my shoulder before stepping back to the foot of the bed. He took my panties with him, letting them fall to the floor, and picked up another belt from the assortment beside me.

I took a deep breath, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my chest. 

Despite my unwavering trust in Noah—knowing that he would never hurt me—the suspense of not knowing what was coming next always made me feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety. My feet itched with a restless anticipation.

Noah seemed to sense my tension. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on my left knee, his lips warm and soothing against my skin. “Bend your leg,” he instructed gently, “so that your calf is pressed against the back of your thigh.”

I followed his guidance, folding my leg as he directed. His fingers began to caress my inner thigh, tracing light, reassuring patterns on my skin. The gentle touch was a familiar comfort, easing my nerves and bringing a sense of calm.

Once I was in the right position, Noah’s hands moved to the belt. His touch was steady and deliberate as he started to tie it around my thigh, making a single column tie just below the hip. The belt was soft but firm, securing the bend of my leg with a snug yet comfortable grip. He then guided the rope down to my calf, encircling it snugly in an evenly spaced manner. His movements were deliberate and attentive, each wrap around my leg made with practiced grace. 

As he continued wrapping the kimono belt around my leg, keeping my thigh and calf together, he paused to check my comfort. His fingers brushed against my skin as he made adjustments, ensuring the rope was tight enough to hold but not so tight as to impede circulation. Every now and then, he would look into my eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. His gaze was soft, his concern palpable, and it made me feel deeply cared for.

When he reached the end of the belt, he secured it with a neat knot, making sure it was both secure and aesthetically pleasing. He took a moment to gently press his fingers along the wraps, feeling for any signs of tension or discomfort. His touch was tender and reassuring, 

His careful attention extended to the second leg. I bent it without him having to ask for it, and I heard a satisfied hum escape his lips. He took about ten minutes to complete the tie there as well. Each movement was measured and thoughtful, his focus loving and unwavering as he worked on me. 

With the belts snugly encircling my legs, I felt an increasing sense of surrender with each passing moment. Noah’s gaze and the secure feeling of the ropes around me gradually pulled me into a deeper state of subspace. The outside world faded away, leaving just the intimate bubble we created together.

Noah’s soft voice cut through the silence, asking if I was alright. The concern in his tone, combined with his lingering touch, grounded me and made me feel cherished. His attentiveness to my comfort and the connection we shared through this experience made it easier to let go.

“Arms above your head,” he instructed softly, and I complied without hesitation. His approval came in the form of a ‘good girl,’ which filled me with a deep sense of pride for pleasing him. 

Noah’s hand rested on my knees, gently pushing them up and apart. I felt a flush spread across my entire body as he exposed me to him. His gaze was intense and appreciative, taking in every inch of me—every imperfection, every scar. It was a gaze that made me feel both vulnerable and deeply valued.

His touch was tender as he slid his hand from my neck down the valley between my breasts, moving slowly until he reached my lower belly. His fingers paused, resting over the mound between my legs. “I need this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with need.

As he said those three words, he sank to his knees. He grasped my tied legs, pulling them closer to the edge of the bed. 

I closed my eyes as Noah’s breath fluttered against my skin, the anticipation building with each touch. His kisses began on my inner thighs, making me feel cherished and adored. When his lips brushed right below my navel, a shiver ran through me, his breath sending goosebumps all over my body, my nipples hardening in response.

“Everything’s okay,” he whispered, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. His words created an almost electric sensation, making my entire body tingle. “I’m going to show you right now.”

“Please,” I murmured, my voice barely above a breath.

His next kiss landed on the delicate area where my thigh met my pubic region, along the inguinal crease. The proximity of his mouth had me shivering, struggling to contain a moan.

“You can bring your arms down now, baby. Touch my hair while I have my mouth on you,” he instructed, his voice low and comforting. “I love it when you do that.”

A grin spread across my face, unable to be contained. “I know,” I replied, a hint of satisfaction in my voice.

His smile seemed to widen against my thigh, and I could feel his pleasure in the gentle way he responded. My fingers tangled in his soft locks as his mouth began its exploration between my legs. Each touch was slow, deliberate, and incredibly sensitive. He took his time, savoring every flick of his tongue and every gentle suck, creating a rhythm that was both intimate and profoundly connecting.

The unhurried pace allowed us to savor each moment, to explore the depth of our bond in silence. My body responded to him instinctively, wriggling beneath him as pleasure built. Soft, sweet moans escaped me, marking the perfect synchronization we shared in that moment. His hands roamed across my hips and lower belly, sliding up to caress my breasts and tease my nipples, adding layers of tenderness and stimulation to our connection.

Noah knew my body better than I knew it myself. When I bucked against his lips, craving more, he responded with a firm hand pressed against my lower abdomen, holding me still. Despite the pause, his tongue continued its gentle, insistent work, licking and flicking. The pleasure built up until I was shuddering and arching off the mattress, my body consumed by the climax he’d drawn from me.

Even after I came, he remained there, praising me, continuing to lick and kiss me with calm, mindful strokes. I had given him my orgasm and with it, I had released half of what I’d been holding inside since we left my father’s state. 

“That was sweet,” he commented, lifting his head from between my legs, satisfaction evident in his voice. I quivered at the sight of his lips, glistening with the evidence of my arousal. He licked them clean and even though I had just reached a nice climax, I felt ready to give him another one.

He stood up. His hands went straight to the ropes binding my wrists, deftly untying the knots. I watched him quietly, regaining my breath. I noted how he moved with a confidence that spoke of his extensive experience. Each knot he loosened revealed not just his skill but his deep understanding of me—both as a my warrior and my lover.

Once he had freed my wrists, he gently rubbed them between his large, calloused hands, his touch both soothing and reassuring. “Do you feel any pain?” he asked, his voice tender but concerned. 

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. The pressure felt nice.”

“Good,” he replied, his gaze relaxing. “I’m going to change the ties now, so that your wrists are tied to your ankles. Is that okay?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Noah.”

“Good girl.” His voice held a note of pride as he began working on the new knots. “I’m going to make you feel really good while you’re all tied up and I’m inside you, I promise.” 

His focus was intense, his hands working almost too fast for me to keep track of each knot. 

“The moment you need me to untie you,” he addded, eyes meeting mine with a commanding gaze, “just say so, okay?” 

“I will, Noah.”

“Perfect.” 

His hands continued their work, placing my wrists at the bottom of the triangle formed by my calf and thigh, efecctively tying my ahnds to my feet. The adjustment was meticulous, ensuring that my hands were now cupping my own feet. 

As he worked, I could feel the new arrangement of the ropes stretching my limbs in a way that was both restrictive and incredibly stimulating. Noah’s attention to detail was meticulous, each knot and wrap designed to heighten our connection and the sensations we shared.

My feet rested flat on the bed, the cool fabric beneath them constrasting with the heat radiating from the constriction above. I watched as Noah’s hands worked methodically, the cotton belts slipping through his fingers with ease.

He looped the belt around my wrists, pulling each end through the careful knots he had already made at my ankles. My breaths came in shallow, uneven bursts as I felt the binding tighten. Noah’s movements were almost reverent as he ensured the knots were secure yet not painful, balancing restraint with care.

Each tug of the belts brought a new sensation—tighter, more restricting—until I felt the belts drawing my limbs closer together, the tension making every muscle in my body aware of the intricate web of bondage. His fingers brushed against my skin, a fleeting, almost intimate touch before he moved away to adjust the knots with a final, authoritative tug.

As I shifted slightly, the belts creaked and shifted, an audible reminder of their grip. Noah’s eyes met mine, and there was a flicker of something inscrutable in his gaze, a blend of focus and something deeper that I couldn’t quite decipher. I was completely at his mercy now, each movement of mine dictated by the binding ropes and the skillful precision with which he had tied them.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he looked at me with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. “Are you comfortable?”

I nodded, the excitement of anticipation mingling with the comfort of being cared for so thoroughly. “Yes, Noah.”

His smile widened as he took in my bound form, his eyes filled with both desire and admiration. “You took good care of me in the tub. Now I’m going to take good care of you here, in this bed.”

He leaned down to placed his hands on my waist. At the same time his thumbs stroked my sides, he bent his head down and pressed a loving kiss to my stomach, lips lingering there with a softness that seemed at odds with the tightness of the ropes binding me. The warmth of his breath and the tender touch made me shiver in pleasure.

He lingered there for a moment longer, as if relishing the profound connection between us before he drew back just enough to speak, his voice low and hushed, imbued with both solemnity and hope. “We’re free,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me with a blend of affection and determination. “Nobody can dictate our future anymore—only we can.” With two fingers, he traced a circle around my navel. “One day, our children will grow here,” he continued, his lips and fingers replaced by his warm, broad palm, which now lay pressing tenderly on my womb. 

The words hung between us, a promise and a vision of a future that felt both distant and tantalizingly close. His eyes softened as he took in my expression, revealing a vulnerability beneath the surface of his composed exterior. A flutter of excitement danced in my stomach, mingling with a growing need to feel him inside me. At that moment, the ropes that bound me seemed almost inconsequential compared to the profound meaning behind his declaration. 

He stepped back, and the room fell into a hush, punctuated only by the soft rustle of the belts keeping me bound and the steady rhythm of our breathing. 

Noah undressed, sliding off his underwear and letting his cock spring free, hard and proud. 

With a careful, practiced hand, he adjusted my position on the bed, lifting me slightly so he could kneel comfortably between my legs. His presence was commanding and powerful—broad shoulders, strong arms, and muscular thighs—yet there was a controlled gentleness in his approach. The intensity in the way he looked at me was unsettling and deeply intimate, as if he could see past the surface to something more profound.

A shyness fluttered over me, the intensity of his stare making it hard to hold his gaze. I tried to find distraction in the room’s shadows or the patterns on the bedding.

“No,” he barked, his voice cutting through the silence with a sharp edge. “Look at me. Eyes on me.”

The command jolted me back to him There was no escape from the depth of his stare. The authority in his voice made my heart race, but there was also a strange comfort in the clarity of his demand.

I held his gaze, trying to steady my breathing. His eyes remained fixed on mine, unwavering, as if he was searching for something in me, something that only this moment of connection could reveal. The weight of his expectations pressed against me, mingling with the tightness of the ropes, creating a blend of tension and anticipation that just got me hotter.

With a grip that took me by surprise, Noah lifted my hips and settled my ass on his lap, my bent and tied legs resting at his sides, feet and hands floating mid-air. In that position, his cock was perfectly aligned with my core.

“Arch your back a little,” he instructed. “Get comfy, baby, because I’m going to enjoy my time with you like this.”

He guided me closer with a gentle pull, adjusting me until I was nestled just right. I shifted slightly, seeking the most comfortable position by resting most of my weight on my shoulders. 

A tender kiss was placed on my knee, followed by the gentle press of his thumb on my clit, making me gasp from the unexpected sensation. The touch was not harsh but warm and teasing, much like his previous caresses. He took his time, rubbing his cock against my folds, from my clit to my slit, stirring a mounting anticipation.

In one deliberate, slow thrust, he was fully inside me. A small frown appeared between his brows—a sign of his awe and fascination with how perfectly our bodies fit together. I gasped and closed my eyes momentarily, savoring the overwhelming sensation of finally having Noah inside. 

He remained still for a moment. My skin prickled with goosebumps under his scrutiny, the anticipation of his next move almost palpable. His dark eyes held a fierce intensity that should have been intimidating but instead felt deeply reassuring.

“You’re mine,” he declared.

And I felt completed. 

Because I was his. Always had been. 

And he was mine. 

As the rhythm between us began to build, his movements were tremendously delicious, a blend of passion and reverence. I couldn’t say for certain if he kept his eyes open to observe each one of my expressions and reactions, as I had closed mine, losing myself in the sensation of our bodies being joined. Each thrust, the slide of his cock inside me, the press of my lower body against his thighs—everything melded into a singular, euphoric experience. I felt as if I were floating on a cloud.

“How’s it feel?” he asked, his voice an urgent whisper that barely touched the edges of my consciousness. “Talk me through it, sweetheart. I need your words. Come on.”

“It feels so good…” I managed to respond, my voice trembling slightly. I arched my back as he entered me again, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It won’t,” he assured me.

He wasn’t talking about our lovemaking. He was talking about us, our bond, the love. 

An overwhelming surge of emotion coursed through me. Maybe it was all the love I had for him, everything I knew I would do to keep this man at my side. I opened my eyes, watery because his promise, coupled with his movements, threatened to bring me to tears. My eyes fell to the cut on his chest. 

My gaze fell to the cut on his chest, which had been stitched and now marred some of his tattoos. Despite the imperfection, it was a mark of his love, never to be seen as anything less than beautiful. That’s when my concern shifted to him.

“Are you feeling all right?” I asked softly, my head hazy from the pleasure, the friction of his cock moving in and out making my mind all fuzzy.

“I’m feeling okay,” he replied, his tone filled with genuine warmth, his movements never losing focus. “There’s nothing like this, being inside you,” he bit his lip as he observed the way his thick cock disappeared inside of me. “And you look so beautiful, taking me like this because there’s nothing else you can do. I wish you could see yourself.”

One of his hands slid down my calf, his fingers gently finding the ones resting by my foot. He grasped them tenderly, offering a small, loving squeeze.

It was these subtle gestures that had first made me fall for him. Back when we were just teenagers and our encounters were still new and thrilling, Noah had always been cautious and restrained about touching me. But whenever he sensed something wasn’t right—perhaps when I had a rough day or something kept bugging at me—he would let his hand brush mine as we walked through the forest or beside the pond, he would pretend to remove a stray leaf from my hair, or would place a flower behind my ear with a compliment. His small acts of affection were one of my favorite parts of him, something that no one else had got to experience from this implacable Samurai.

Such a charmer he’d been—still was. I just don’t think he was aware of it. His actions always spurred from his very soul, intent with love, from a soul that radiated tenderness.

What was there not to admire about this man?

I’d do anything for him. My feelings for Noah went far beyond mere love; they transcended the physical. He was my life.

In the midst of my thoughts, Noah guided our lovemaking with a steady, rhythmic intensity that left me breathless. And a while later, a powerful urge to be even closer to him took hold of me. 

I longed to be freed from the restraints, to wrap my arms around him and pull him even closer. My chest ached with the need to feel his skin pressed against mine, to close the distance between us. I needed him to understand how desperately I wanted to feel his body enveloping mine, entirely. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him in a way that our current position did not allow.

I focused on the sensations of our connection, savoring the way his touch ignited every nerve in my body. My hands itched to reach out, to cup his face and draw him into a kiss that would seal our shared ecstasy. Each time he entered me, I could feel the tension and desire crackling between us, a force that pushed us toward the edge. I could feel every pulse of his cock, every throb of his desire matching my own.

In a breathless whisper, I pleaded, “Noah, untie me now. Please.”

His eyes flickered with both determination and a hint of surprise. Without breaking our connection, he began to carefully untie the restraints that held me. 

Once he had freed me, Noah’s hands massaged my ankles and wrists to ease the tension from the binds. The attention was both soothing and arousing. As he adjusted our positions into a missionary, I eagerly wrapped my limbs around him, my heels pressing firmly into his backside. His lips traveled over my face, brushing gently against my cheeks, jaw, and down my neck, each touch fueling the fire of our connection.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me, a surge of strength and dominance began to rise within. I struggled, but I finally managed to flip Noah over. I guided him onto his back. His look of surprise was fleeting, quickly replaced by a mixture of curiosity and admiration. I was careful, mindful of his injury, not wanting to cause him any discomfort or risk opening his stitches.

Once I was atop him, I took charge, riding him with a mix of passion and care. The control I exerted was exhilarating, and Noah’s expression shifted between awe and appreciation. 

Noah, as the dominating Samurai he’d been and always would be, didn’t wait more than couple of minutes to sit up, though. He wrapped his arms around my middle, and urged me to move my legs so that I was wrapped around him. His other hand tangled in my long hair, guiding me down to his mouth as my body sank onto his cock. Settled onto him, my clit brushed against his lower body, and I could feel the pressure and pleasure escalate to an intense, feverish pitch.

The new position, the way my body rubbed against his, how we moved against each other, elicited louder sounds from both of us. 

The connection was so profound that I knew I was on the brink of exploding, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. The combination of his warm embrace, the rhythmic motion, and the intense intimacy between us made it impossible for me to hold back. 

However, when Noah rested his forehead against my bare shoulder, not even a couple of minutes after, an unfamiliar dampness caressed my skin. My heart twisted at the unexpected vulnerability in his touch, and I was flooded by a sense of worry. I stopped my dance atop him, and gently cradled his face in my hands, guiding his gaze to meet mine. 

“Noah,” I whispered, my breath mingling with his, “are you crying?”

He blinked, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

I had never seen him crying.  

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, “I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”

A warm, reassuring smile spread across my face.

My boy.

My soldier.

Crying in my arms.

“Noah…” I pressed a kiss to his nose, another one to his cheekbone, as words came flooding back to me. “You didn’t force me to do anything. I’m very capable of making my own decisions. Remember that line?”

He frowned at first, but soon his lips curled into a wry, relieved smile. He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face and letting his forehead fall against my shoulder. 

I held him, none of us moving for a while. I let his hands roam my back, explore my skin. 

“I was terrified” he began, the quiet of the night welcoming his soft-spoken voice, “when I noticed you weren’t there in the market, and then when I found you in that alley with Ren, and he had you—”

“Shush,” I interrupted softly, lifting his head with a finger below his chin and pressing my forehead to his. “That’s in the past now. You don’t have to be scared anymore, and neither do I.” I traced the line of his right ear with my fingers as I inhaled him. His scent was intoxicating. It felt surreal that this man was mine; that he’d always been. Maybe it would take me forever to grasp the notion. “It’s just us from now onwards,” I continued, letting a playful, cheeky smile slip onto my lips. I lowered my voice, catching his full attention with an intentional buckle of my hips against his. “Maybe little ones in the near future. But tonight—right now— it’s just you and me, Noah.”

His smile broadened, mingling with a mix of gratitude and love. We lingered in the moment, our bodies intertwined, our breaths mingling. The weight of the world seemed to dissolve as we savored the intimacy. Our tears, our fears, and our shared pain were left behind as we focused solely on each other.

When Noah started rocking me against him again, I felt a profound sense of completion. The struggles and uncertainties of our journey seemed distant and insignificant compared to the future ahead of us. 

I closed my eyes, holding onto his shoulders. The world outside faded away, leaving only two adults lost in each other, the same ones that had been kids once; kids who knew nothing about love but learnt everything together. 

*deep breath* this is the last part of the series. The next update will likely be the epilogue, which will be divided in two parts and will take place at least two years after these events.

Thank you so much to every single one of you angels that have taken the time to read this, that have been patient with me and my slow updates, and have cheered me on to continue and have kept me motivated to write this story. Writing has always been one of my favorite things to do, and doing research for it, learning about other cultures, and getting to share this with you all and seeing your reactions literally has no price. I'm such a sap but that's okay 🤓

Having said that, epilogue part I coming soon! 🤭 ✨

Taglist:

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @darling-millicent-aubrey | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Masterlist

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Masterlist for Hell Ain't So Bad

Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist HERE

x-posted to ao3

summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

chapters: ✨️ = smut

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve✨️ || Thirteen✨️ | Fourteen✨️ | Fifteen✨️ | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two✨️ ||

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[ladyveronikawrites]

I'M YOURS TO KEEP, SO SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME 18 + (Chris Motionless x Nicholas Ruffilo)

Friends in Sin Kinktober 2024

Motionless in White Kinktober 2024 - DAY ONE

🥀For @ao3userfeistycadavers Friends in Sin Kinktober 2024 Collection

-crossposted on wattpad

🥀Pairing: Vampire! Chris Motionless x Vampire! Nicholas Ruffilo

🥀Summary: In this dystopian regency tale, Christopher drags the prince to the city for a night of fun and fright.

🥀Content warning: Supernatural Au, breath play, blood drinking, blood sharing, blow jobs, use of magic,

🥀Author's note: Title comes from Blessthefall's 'Drag Me Under". Story inspired by N. Dune's "Within Her Magic". Shout out to @nerdraging4point0 for being my lovely beta reader💜pics of inspiration (all sfw) chris // nick // the twins 💜Dividers by @saradika-graphics

🥀 word count - 2k

Nicholas groans as he rolls out of bed. Peering up at the setting sun and rubs his eyes warily, a yawn overtaking his whole body with a stretch. He doesn’t know how long he’s been cooped up in his father’s mansion- a punishment for the lack of an heir - but what his father doesn’t know is how he’s been intentionally making himself infertile from a concoction of magical herbs. Nick is tired of his family's traditional bullshit. 

He dresses quickly in ripped jeans and a tight black cotton turtleneck shirt his secret boyfriend stashed for him in the depths of his walk-in closet. After sliding on a pair of boots he’s only worn twice in his life, he drapes himself in a long leather trench coat his boyfriend insisted he wear tonight.

Nick sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as he sends a silent prayer to the void that this night doesn’t go horribly wrong, and he jumps out of the window.

In his bat form, it doesn’t take him long to reach the edge of the city when he knows his boyfriend will be there. They've done this before, but not this risky yet Nick doesn’t have a fuck to give anymore. 

He shifts back into his human body, hair loose and wild against the cool breeze surrounding him. For a heartbeat- if he had one - he drinks in his lover’s appearance and smirks. 

“Fuckin dork,” Nick huffs a laugh, gripping the collar of his love’s coat to pull him into a deep kiss. It’s slow and unhurried, a wet tongue sliding between a pair of lips where they exchange hot breaths and hushed moans. Cool metal brushes against his skin when sloppy kisses mark his cheek and trail down his jaw. 

“We should go, Christopher,” Nick mumbles. The lips pressed against his throat suck an annoyed mark onto his skin. “Seriously,” his voice is flat with an edge of irritation. 

“Relax babe,” Chris whispers hotly in his ear. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” Chris ignores Nick’s request as he continues to pepper kisses on his tattooed skin.

“What if he finds out?”

“I’ve missed you so much,” Chris whines ignoring Nick’s concern, grabbing his lover's hand he whisks them away into the neon city lights.

Nicholas still gets nauseous when Christopher takes them at supernatural speeds, despite them traveling this way almost daily. He wretches behind a large burning metal canister in the dank alleyway, wiping his mouth with his hand, he swallows down more bile. 

“You ok, my love?” Chris asks caressing Nicholas’ cheek which flushes against his touch. 

“I’m fine,” he scoffs pulling away, attempting to hide his embarrassment but he knows Chris sees right through it. 

“C’mon, let’s go dance until the sunrises.” Chris winks, lifting Nicholas’ hand to press gentle kisses to each knuckle.

At the bar, Nicholas settles his stomach by tossing back some bright fluorescent blue liquid Christopher thrust into his hand before disappearing onto the dancefloor. He knows that any minute now, Chris will be returning to drag him to the dancefloor. It’s their usual song and dance; literally, at least once a month when the moon is at its fullest, he takes the chance – when the neighboring territories get restless – Christopher finds them a new spot to get lost in. He knows it's only a matter of time before the King finds out, but he doesn’t care. 

What could possibly be worse than living a lie anyway? 

The glass hardly makes contact with the granite bar top before Nicholas feels himself being dragged away from the booth.

“Darling, you will just love what I have found.” Nick’s eyes go wide when the crowd parts for two very beautiful beings. The neon strobe lights cast an ethereal halo around them. His fangs lengthen on instinct alone and he wills himself to calm down. Feeding may be one of the reasons Chris brought him out tonight – to help him gain strength from all the diluted blood from the hospitals and magical elixirs.

Ever since the slow decline of the human race, supernaturals have expanded across the territories to restore the earth from the poison of overconsumption and overpopulation. The lush green forests Nicholas would run wild in as a youngling were quickly bulldozed and destroyed to be turned into infrastructures for the new city. He watched as the world went from bright green and clear skies to cold concrete and gray. Small aspects of the old world still remain in these long-forgotten cities. 

“Wow,” is all Nick can muster as his brain filters through the loud electronic synth and the dense air around him. He barely registers the bodies dancing and grinding around him – his attention fixed on them. It’s their alluring scent that hits him first as they approach him, both blonde with clear blue eyes and light-tanned skin that has seen more sun than he has. But they don’t have the typical scent of other occult. 

Human. 

Nicholas stands frozen in time as the female approaches him with her simple long white dress and long pin-straight tresses. It’s carefree and unhurried as if she wasn't afraid of being prey tonight, even though she is. With outstretched arms, she pulls the tinted glasses from his eyes causing him to blink a few times. Her skin is clear of ink, branding, or other indication of being owned.

“You have gorgeous eyes.” She smiles as she places them on her face before turning her petite frame and grinding up against him. Nicholas doesn’t stop the groan that settles deep in his throat. Her body pressed up against his feels so– 

Suddenly large warm hands grip his hips as a solid chest presses against his back. Nicholas tenses to the unfamiliar touch as the scent overwhelms him. 

The male. 

“Relax little prince,” his male’s soft sultry voice sends a shiver down his spine. “Your hottie already threatened to rip us into pieces if we misbehave.” The male doesn’t stop his teasing when he trails kisses down Nick’s jaw and the exposed skin about the turtleneck. Nick leans back into him craving more of his touch. He feels something warm like static electricity hovering over his skin, pulling him in, enticing him to slide his hands over the female in front of him. 

“It’s ok, just a little magic. But we aren’t controlling you — just enhancing your mind to what you already desire.”

“Looks like you all are having some fun.” A deep chuckle rumbles from behind him. Nick’s eyes jolt open when fingers grip his chin. When he meets his lover’s eyes, he finds them darkened to onyx and shimmering in lust. Pressure deepens around his jaw as Chris pulls Nicholas from the twins and into his embrace. Chris leans down and sucks Nick’s lower lip between his teeth. Nick presses his hands against Chris’ chest, as Chris threads his fingers through his hair, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss. The world around them slows as the two share a heated moment that leaves them both a little breathless.  

When the two ancient vampires' part, Christopher guides the group to the back where there’s a scattering of leather sofas. The vampires discard their coats onto an empty seat, and then Nicholas turns to the female. The most beautiful sound comes from her parted lips when Nicholas drags her onto his lap. 

“What’s your name, human?” he asks softly, tucking a loose strand of her bright starlight hair behind her delicate ear.

“Daphne, your Highness.” Nicholas watches as she lowers her gaze in submission. 

Being the royal outcast, most pay no mind to him – which he prefers – yet this subtle act has him completely and utterly flustered. “Don’t worry my prince, I will take excellent care of you,” she leans over to whisper in his ear. 

He feels the gentle pull of magic relax him as he leans back and puts his arms around her waist. As she grinds against him, she peppers sweet kisses to his cheeks and jaw. He gasps when she sucks at the delicate skin of his throat, pressing herself harder against his erection. Instantly his fangs extend, and he can’t help when he yanks at her strands pulling her away. 

Getting the hint, she stretches her neck long and his vision focuses on the tender flesh of her throat, a small vein pulses in time with the music surrounding them. Nicholas wraps his strong arms around her, holding her tightly. Inhaling her sweet scent, he drags his nose across the bare skin, and it pebbles instantly. She shivers gracefully and a small moan tumbles from her lips when he kisses and licks at the crook of her neck.

“May I taste you?” He practically moans against her skin, his lips grazing the large vein on the side of her neck. “Please,” he whimpers sucking in a sob.

“Of course, your Highness.” She gasps when his fangs scrape at first, then her body melts into his with a soft moan when he pierces her skin. Her blood tastes of petrichor, of the lost forests, before the humans depleted the earth. The magic in his veins yearn for her, for the land before time. 

Feverishly, he digs his nails into her hips, grinding against her as he takes another pull of her blood. He’s so close to climax it’s almost painful. It’s then he hears the male moan beside him jolting him from the trance. 

Daphne sighs softly when he detaches his mouth from her. Nicholas wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ready to excuse himself to wash away the blood but when he looks down, his brows burrow. Where red usually lies is an unusually clear substance. He looks over to Daphne and his mouth drops open. Her clear blue eyes are now bright green, her ears are pointed, and the wound on her neck is now healing. 

Fae.

Nicholas tenses, eyes alert despite the edges of his vision darkening. 

“Nick, it’s alright,” Chris’ words slur slightly. “They are here to serve us.” Serve us? “Your father-” Nick turns to find the male silencing Chris with a kiss. He watches as Chris yanks at the blond, bringing his lips to the pale column of his neck. Chris flicks his gaze up to Nick before sinking his teeth in. The male’s mouth slacks into a perfect ‘o’ shape and his eyes roll back. The sight only has Nicholas aroused all over again. 

In a blur, Nicholas finds himself being pinned to the couch by the throat. Chris has always been one to be a little reckless, especially in public because of his exhibitionistic nature. Nick will gladly let him be the center of attention if that means he can sink into the shadows. 

“You good?” Chris pants, grinning wildly. Nick answers with a wicked grin, digging his nails into Chris’ hips and thrusting up into him. The friction against his jeans isn’t enough and it’s driving Nick feral. Chris leans down capturing his moan in between his lips. In the corner of his vision, he sees Daphne fall to her knees and the male stands behind her pushing her hair over to the other shoulder to offer her neck once again. Chris spears his lips apart with his tongue as he grinds against him. 

“Open up, darling,” Christopher commands and Nicholas obeys. Chris turns to the female and doesn’t hesitate when he bites down on her neck. She moans loudly and starts to shake, but the male clamps his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. He detaches himself from the girl and spits the fae blood into his lover’s mouth. 

Nicholas swallows every bit, the magical blood instantly setting his veins alight. It’s all tongue and teeth this time when they kiss. Suddenly, there’s heat around his neck and it’s hard to breathe — Christopher’s element of air. Nick whines when they part, but only for a second when Chris pulls him from his jeans. He sucks him down fast and in no time at all Nick is shooting hot cum in the back of his throat, panting for air. Chris dutifully licks and sucks him clean - releasing his magic –  before crawling back and pressing a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“That…was…amazing,” Nick pants. “Where did the twins go?” 

Christopher gently pulls Nicholas upright and wraps his arm around him. “Probably to get a drink or dance.” Melancholy grips at Nick’s stomach briefly. He nuzzles himself against Chris as his senses begin to dull. “We will see them again,” Chris promises. “Now let’s get you home before the King finds out.” 

tysm for reading and reblogging❤️

👑Royal Readers👑

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[aplaceinthedark]

LOOKING for the MEANING

chapter one: Old Friends, Same Disease

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm. 

Word Count: 2777

CW: supernatural themes, attempted B&E, mentions of dead bodies, body horror

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Featured Creatures:

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@rottingfern @roley-poley-foley

I learned pretty quickly that Shenandoah Spring never wanted to come when it was told.

I’d heard about “Fake Spring” once or twice from a distant cousin that lived on the other side of the Blue Ridges. The First Day of Spring had come and gone, yet I was certain that some mornings it was still the middle of winter. Mornings like those, I was glad I had a space heater in my bed.

The space heater being my partner, Nicholas Ruffilo.

How most nights he was able to sleep wearing only a shirt and shorts was beyond me. No matter how many blankets I would pile on, or how far I snuggled under his body, I could never get warm. Not that we would complain about the closeness, since some nights felt like they were colder and darker than others.

Tonight was one of those nights - but unfortunately, I was alone.

Night terrors weren’t new to me. Before I left Newport News, I had been warned of the many side effects of PTSD and Survivor’s Guilt. I had been plagued with them constantly until I moved to New Hope, and then they had all but vanished when Nick and I started sleeping together.

Tonight, it was just me and the cats, as Nick had gone to Richmond for the weekend to see his mom. I had stayed behind this time, saying that I was never really alone with our friends in the woods. But now, I was starting to regret my decision.

Usually my night terrors involved the Accident that had happened almost two years ago, but tonight had been different. Instead of Michael’s body, lying lifeless in front of me, it was Nick’s, almost exactly how it had looked last summer. It was an image I hadn’t wanted to ever revisit, but it seemed like tonight my subconscious wanted me to rehash it.

And that’s why I was currently standing on my front porch, alone in the dark.

I took a drag from the joint we had stashed away in our “Medical Emergencies Only: KEEP OUT FOLIO” stash, AKA when we needed to calm down. Despite it being three in the morning, the woods surrounding my house was lively, defying the chill that seemed to permeate everything. I glanced over at the trees, taking in how the moon made them cast long shadows that seemed to claw their way across my lawn.

I no longer feared what those shadows hid.

Which reminded me… I peered behind me, casting my eyes down at the offering plate. It no longer sat down on the porch next to the door, like it was a water bowl for an outside dog. I had put it up on its own little table so as to keep it from getting buried underneath the snow. It held some cookies right now, wrapped in tinfoil to keep the raccoons from getting to them. The fact that they were still there meant Noah or the other two haints hadn’t stopped by to take the offering. 

I no longer woke up when one of them would stop by, though a couple of times I would when I felt Nick leave the bed, but I would just quickly fall back asleep after. Some mornings I would wake up to see that Folio had dumped himself either on the living room couch or the bed in the spare bedroom, snoring away.

As I scrolled away on my phone, I felt the air around me go still. It made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It was a common sign that one of the boys was near, so I looked up to greet whomever it was. 

Indeed, there was something in the woods, lurking just at the edge of my property line, where the grass turned into the Weeds. I couldn’t exactly see it, just a faint outline, like those games Nicholas likes to play, when the screen says to turn the brightness down until you can't see the image. The presence lingered there for a long time.

I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Noah,”  I called out, putting out the joint in the porch ashtray.

There was only silence in return, and the patch of darkness didn't move. I narrowed my eyes. “Whatever you're doing, Noah, you can do it either on my lawn or fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this tonight,” I snapped.

Nothing.

Unease curled in me. "Jolly? Nick?” I said, using Joakim’s nickname and Folio’s first name, respectively. I tried to keep the fear slowly creeping into me out of my voice, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it.

When I still didn't receive a response, I called out to the shadow with that weird mental connection Noah had with everyone. Noah?

WHAT?

The annoyance in his voice at my intrusion was not helping my panic. Are you anywhere near the house right now?

There was a small pause before he replied,

NO, I'M UP IN THE MOUNTAINS. FOLIO’S ON HIS WAY. WHY?

The second he said the word, No, I was immediately running back into the house. It didn't matter that Noah was still in my head, demanding that I tell him what was going on. I startled the small calico cat awake with the sound of the door slamming shut, causing her to angrily meow at me.

“Shh!” I quietly told Lydia, reaching over to pull the curtains shut. I had barely drawn one set when I heard the front steps outside creak as something put its weight down on them. I immediately dropped down into a crouching position, my back pressed against the door. Lydia was smarter, trodding off back to my bedroom.

Staying as still and quiet as possible, I could just barely hear what was going on on the other side of the door. It sounded like wet rasping, intermixed with some clicking noise. If that was the sound of nails hitting wood, there was no way that was Folio in his Grim form. 

The sound continued for several more minutes, pacing back and forth slowly. The sound would fade off, and I would think it was safe to get up until it paced the other way. I was getting lightheaded from holding my breath for long periods of time. 

That’s when I heard a new sound: metal being disturbed. Was… whatever it is... stealing the offering plate?

I was so focused on listening for the sound again that the knock on my door nearly had me falling over. I couldn't help the yelp that slipped out. I froze, scared that it would alert the monster outside, but then a familiar voice piped up. “Taylor, it's me. Open the door,” Noah said.

I slowly stood up, heading towards the peep hole to check, when I heard the same voice say inside my head, 

DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR! THAT'S NOT ME!

The doorknob rattled vigorously, as if the thing heard Noah. I felt a small surge of pride at having the wherewithal to deadbolt the door when I ran in, but it quickly evaporated when the door violently shook in its frame. I backed away from it until there was a loud bang, as if it threw its body against it, and an unearthly shriek pierced my eardrums. I bolted for the bathroom.

FOLIO'S ALMOST THERE.

I shut and locked the door, and then clambered into the tub before drawing the shower curtain. I then curled up into a ball to wait it out.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours until I heard the sound of heavy paws beating against the forest floor, like someone was beating out a fast tempo on a kickdrum. Then, sounds of snarling and shrieking filled the air, causing a small sob of what was almost relief to escape me. Then, quiet.

“Taylor?”

I froze at what sounded like Nick Folio’s voice, calling out loud enough that I could hear him. "It's safe now. I'm coming in, alright?"

I climbed out of the bathtub and made my way out into the hall. It just so happened that at the same time, Folio was closing the front door behind him. Dark blood dropped from his lips onto the eagle tattooed on his chest, but I knew that he was the real Folio. Only occupants could come into my house.

I nearly tripped over my shaking legs, but I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He answered in kind, holding me in comfort.

“I got it, don’t worry. It won't hurt you,” he said, smoothing my rumpled hair as if trying to soothe a wild animal. His nose then pressed to the shaved skin above my ear and I heard him sniffing.

"I was smoking before this happened," I admitted sheepishly.

“Obviously,” he said. He sounded a little disappointed.

That's when I heard the sound of trees being disturbed. “Go clean up,” I said, unwinding myself from Folio.

“Can do.” He patted my backside as he passed me to walk to the bathroom.

I pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch. Only the signs of the struggle were apparent. Nothing was broken, and the only things left behind were nail marks and small tufts of silvery-white fur, which I knew had belonged to Folio. He hadn’t looked raked, so it must not have caught his skin. Whatever the thing had been, there was no sign of it.

In the periphery of my vision, a tall shadow emerged from deep within the woods. As it got closer, it shrunk down to a somewhat normal size of a human. The branch-like antlers seemed to emerge from the treeline before his tattooed body did. It almost seemed like his arrival was accompanied by the sound of a cold wind skittering dead leaves across the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Noah Sebastian, the Watcher of the Woods, swore. “What the hell did you go and do now?”

NOAH

It was something Noah hadn't seen in a long time. 

Folio didn't leave it in one piece, but Noah could tell what it was just by looking at some of the bits. Almost white, hairless, a dried up husk. Its eyes were missing, but Noah knew it had already been like that. These things never had eyes, even back when he was under the old Watcher's control.

That was what worried him: the fact that this thing was here in the first place. He was wracking his brain over when he could have possibly left a corpse rot in the woods when he heard the front door of the house open. He dropped the pale thing to the ground and shifted into his more human form. Years later and he still felt the pain of his “bones snapping to fit inside a body half his actual size.

Taylor looked dead on their feet, and when he stepped onto the porch, they nearly collapsed against him. He steered them back in the house, forcing them to sit on the couch. He waited until they caught their breath to start interrogating.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded. He knew a little bit from the panic that made Taylor practically throw the situation through the mental pipeline he had with everyone, but he couldn't actually see what happened through their eyes.

As they told him what happened, Noah listened intently. Normally, they had a relationship that bordered on squabbling siblings, but when it came to the safety of the woods and those he considered his “inner circle”, he was as serious as a heart attack. 

As he began to ask a question, he heard the shower water turn off. “Do you still have that camera hooked up outside?”

“Yeah. I don't have the motion sensor notify me everytime, since you guys would wake me up at three in the morning,” Taylor said. They pulled out their phone.  

“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep,” Noah said. He saw their eyes roll. 

Folio then came out of the bathroom, wearing sweats. He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets flying. “Did you see what it was?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what little you left.”

“Hey! I didn't eat the whole thing! That shit was nasty!” Folio protested. 

Folio sometimes thought with his stomach rather than his head. It didn't help that Noah let him eat whatever he found sometimes, but that had to stop after he nearly ate Taylor the first time they went into the woods and got lost. It didn't prevent him from starving, though. Between some of the wild animals he'd catch, or whatever leftovers Nicholas would leave for him, he was eating pretty good. He was, after all, a twenty-five year- old stuck in a seventeen year-old body. 

“There's still cookies on the offering plate,” Taylor mumbled as they scrolled through camera footage. 

“Ooh, sweet!”

“Save some for Jolly!” Noah called over his shoulder as Folio bound for the front door. 

Taylor's shoulders slumped a little bit. “Come here,” he sighed, wrapping a long arm around them and pulling them into his wide torso. He was catching onto their moods quicker. He noticed that they liked stability and normality after stuff like this happened. 

And to think, he nearly killed them last year, too.

“Do you want one of us to stay with you until Nick gets home?” Noah asked. He felt them nod against his chest, leaving something wet behind. He sighed again, and kissed the top of their head. 

“I'll stay,” Folio said, mouth full. 

“The fuck did I just say?”

“I SAVED YOU AND JOLLY SOME!”

Noah heard a semi-hysterical giggle escape from Taylor. “Did you manage to find where the attack began?” he asked them. 

Taylor held up their phone, and Noah pressed play. He watched as Taylor ran into the house, and a few moments later the thing slowly crawled onto the porch. He moved the phone, but Taylor grabbed his wrist and held him fast. They wanted to see the monster too.

From the angle the camera was at, it looked like a hairless dog with too long hind legs. It loped around on all fours, back and forth on the porch several times. After a few minutes, Folio in his Grim form popped into frame, causing Taylor to jump, and he clamped his jaws onto the creature. 

“What is it?” Taylor asked. 

“I called them Pale Things. They're what happens to people who die in the woods,” Noah said. “I haven't seen them since the old Watcher would leave bodies left and right.”

“D-Do you know how tall they are when they stand up?” Taylor asked. 

Noah frowned at the odd question. “Why?” he asked. 

“Because something was standing at the edge of the woods, and this… Pale Thing seems too small to be that.”

Noah recalled when they had woken him. “Are you anywhere near the house?” They had mistaken this thing for him? That seemed impossible. 

So there might be something else out there. 

“Call Nick. I'm gonna get Jolly and we'll look around for anything,” Noah said. He then took the tin foil packets from Folio. “If anything that's not us or Nick comes within a hundred-foot radius of this property, fuck it up.” 

Folio grinned, making his sharp teeth more pronounced. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

Noah stood up, patting Taylor on the head in a way that he knew would annoy them. “Go back to sleep, Lil’ Rabbit. I'll be back with the sunrise.” He then walked out of the house that had once been his. 

With every step he took towards the woods, he transformed into a more comfortable form. His body stretched and grew as vines and branches broke through his skin, wrapping around his arms and legs. Bark and moss formed over that as if mocking clothes, but would break at his joints with a loud cracking sound. As he disappeared past the treeline, melting in with the other trees, his skull broke free and melded together so he no longer move his jaw. But the antlers remained; in fact, they grew to impressive lengths.

To some, he was monstrous. 

To him, he was The Watcher of the Woods.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.