#its thinking about noah hours

[justanotherbarrelrat]

Imagine being one of Noah’s friends from Aglionby. You knew the boy that was wild and energetic and alive, and then one day, he’s just… gone. You don’t know where he went. Perhaps he moved away. After graduation you left Henrietta. A little while later and you return, going to Nino’s for old times’ sake. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you see someone who looks incredibly familiar.

Blonde hair, an Aglionby sweater…

And then later you find out Noah’s body had been found. He’d been dead for seven years. And your thoughts go to the boy with the smudgy face. He didn’t disappear, but he was invisible to most.

[stuvvs]

found a video game essays channel that i really enjoy and the guy makes great points and make me think deeper about the games mentioned

[poisonofthepaint]

lucky you

jack calls you in on your day off, which leads to hooking up in the on-call room, which leads to him finding your tattoo.

wc: 2.5k

cw: MDNI, semi-public sex, f!reader, age gap, pinv, oral, lmk if i'm missing anything!

The date you were heading toward was less than exciting. You knew you needed a life outside of the hospital, Dana had given you a wake up call last week. You had been working doubles like it was nothing, but this was your first day off in a while, so you figured you’d download a dating app, get a free dinner on a Friday night. Not that you couldn’t afford dinner, this was more like dinner and a show. Max was a kind guy, but you could tell he didn’t take you seriously— that he underestimated you. So this was your chance to show up a man, and have him pay for your dinner. Win win.

Then, your phone rings. The ringtone that you have set for hospital staff interrupts your music and blares through the speakers. You groan, checking to see who it was. You were surprised to see that it was Jack, you figured since he was agreeing so hard with Dana last week that he would be the last person calling you.

“It’s my day off,” you answer

“I need you here.” Jack sounds out of breath. 

“Are you kidding?”

“You know I’m not. Ellis is sick, I thought we could manage but we cannot. I need you here.”

“You’re buying me dinner.” you say, exasperated.

“Gladly,” Jack ends the call. 

You know he wouldn’t call you unless it was actually an emergency, Jack wasn’t like that. He wanted to be able to manage. He wanted to be able to handle it by himself. So when he calls you, it’s important. You take off the blue dress you had on, switching it out for a plain white t-shirt before throwing your scrubs on top. You grab the bookbag full of your supplies for shifts and head out of your apartment.

The hospital is only a few blocks from your apartment, so you walk. It’s a bit chilly out; the springtime air blowing through the trees. It looks like it’s gonna storm, and you get to the hospital right before it starts, ducking your head as you walk into the entrance. 

The patients are grouchy in the waiting room, all groaning and yelling. The seats must’ve been taken up hours ago, there’s more people standing than sitting. You push your way through the front door.

“Good, you’re here.” Abbot was waiting at the doors like he had timed you. “You’re not supposed to wear perfume here.” he chastises.

“Had already sprayed it when you called me, figured I didn’t have time to shower.” 

“Right,” his eyes catch yours and he refuses to look away. “We have a lot of injuries from a car crash. A bunch of guys were speeding on the highway and about six of them were sitting in the open truck bed. A semi driver didn’t see them swerving around and knocked them off the road.”

Jack finally breaks eye contact and walks away, you follow him back into Trauma 1. There’s a young guy, probably around twenty-three, screaming in pain. His hand is holding on by a string, like, literally. It’s barely connected. 

“Noah, this is my best resident, she’s gonna take a look at you.” Jack tells him, yelling over the boy’s own screeching.

“I don’t care who she is, fix my fucking hand! I’m on a baseball scholarship!”

“I’m really glad I cancelled my date to be here.” you say, examining his arm.

“You were going on a date?” he says, you think you hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, but you brush it off.

“Aren’t you the one who told me to go have fun?” Jack doesn’t answer, just goes back to the patient, and you do too.

There are a lot of injuries, some superficial, some very serious. Noah will lose his hand, because he was stupid. You learn that he was the driver of the truck, and that he was drinking. You try to have empathy for all of your patients, but it’s hard when they’re being willingly stupid, and killing their friends. Noah heads up into surgery, and everything is rather stable now. The ED returns to its normal business, waiting for beds upstairs, triaging emergencies from the ambulances. 

You sit at your station and chart your patients, trying to remember all that happened in the whirlwind of your arrival. Jack stands right in front of you, charting as well. He looks back once, twice.

“You need something?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Nah, just making sure you’re good.”

“I am just peachy, although I could use some dinner.” you smile up at him brightly.

He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, “Guess I did promise.”

Jack pulls out his phone, opening DoorDash before handing it over to you. You swipe through the restaurants before you find some Chinese place that catches your eye. You put what you want in the cart before handing his phone back to him.

  “Thank you, Dr. Abbot!” you get up from your seat and go to do a round of checkups.

You briefly see him shake his head as he looks down at his phone. 

It’s  a while before the food gets there, and even longer for the driver to argue with the nurse at triage. Jack finally sees the commotion and goes out and grabs it, apologizing to the nurse.

He calls you over and you grab the food, heading into the breakroom. You sit down and open up the paper brown bag. You think about how your night worked out, you got free dinner and a show anyway. And this was actually a show you quite enjoyed. You did love your job, maybe an unhealthy amount. But you had worked so hard to get here, and you were good at it. You were Abbot’s best resident. You were fast at assessing and scoping out which treatment would be best. You flew around the ED like it was nothing to you. 

After a few minutes of eating alone, Jack came to join you, taking what he ordered out of the bag.

“So, what’s wrong with Ellis?” you pry.

“She thinks she has the flu, super high fever and throwing up.”

“Got it, just wanted to make sure this wasn’t all a ploy to get me here on my day off.”

“And if it was?” Jack asks. 

You’re stunned for a second before you regain yourself, “Then I would say you’re very unprofessional, and that you’re interfering with my personal life.”

He shrugs– smirks, “You don’t want a healthy work life balance. Plus, we have fun together, don’t we?”

You try not to think about how he can read you; how he’s got you memorized like you’re the back of his hand. “We do.”

You finish your food and throw the empty container in the trash, excusing yourself. You swoop into the on-call room, trying to calm yourself. You rest your back against the door and swipe a hand down your face. 

The truth is, you’ve had a crush on Jack since your first day at The Pitt. it was a schoolgirl one at first, you thought he was cute. It was fun to be attracted to your boss; to have a little work crush that you could be excited about. But then, it started getting deeper, Jack paid extra attention to you, he could tell that you actually enjoyed the ED. You were always with him on cases, he picked you for his ‘team’ during busy mass casualties. He got to know you, you got to know him. He was no longer a mysterious crush who you just thought was cute. You liked him, in a way you didn’t want to. It was distracting some days. It was even more distracting when you had a feeling you weren’t being delusional. When you wondered why he called you, a second year resident, instead of one of the seniors, or another attending. 

There’s a knock at the door, and you open it, shocked to see Jack standing outside. He walks in and you allow him, moving out of the way so he can lock the door behind him. You can feel your heart in your throat. You sit down on the bed, hoping it’ll stabilize you. 

There’s silence; tension you could cut with a knife. He stands with his hands resting on a countertop. The storm rages outside the window, a big crack of thunder rings throughout the room. Jack is just looking, trying to scope you out. He pushes off and approaches you. You swallow, and look down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact, but Jack isn’t having any of it. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. He leans down, presses his forehead against yours. He lets his lips ghost yours— just barely.

“Tell me to stop.” he begs, out of breath, just like when he called you.

You place a hand on his neck, fingers threading lightly through the hair at the bottom, “What if I don’t want you to?” He groans, burrows his head into your neck. “I want it, Jack, of course I want it.” 

That’s all it takes. His lips are on yours without another beat. The kiss is rough— needy. Your teeth clash against each other, and his tongue explores your mouth. He lays you back onto the bed and your legs open, making room for him. He settles himself and gets to work on your neck, his hand slowly slides up your shirt, resting on your stomach.

He’s still being cautious, you think. You push his hand up and he cups your breast. He makes a strained noise when he feels the lace on your bra.

“You were gonna wear that for him?” Jack asks, right into your ear.

“No, I was wearing it for myself.” an honest answer. 

Jack rips your pants off and sees, what he assumes, is the matching thong. The underwear shifts down a bit, and you think Jack is gonna pass out.

Your small tattoo, a mistake from undergrad. A scripture on your hip that reads, ‘lucky you.’

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, kid.” he brushes his thumb over the words. Thinks about them. Doesn’t move for a minute. 

“Good thing we’re in an emergency department.” 

The nickname sends a wave of arousal through you, just like it always does. It’s how he usually referred to you during emergencies, when you’d catch something that no one else saw. It was how he praised you. You never imagined you’d hear it in this context.

Jack stands up and you whine. He quickly strips off his clothes and is back on you in a second. He rests on his stomach and kisses your tattoo sloppily.

He rips off your underwear with ferocity. You’d be smart to feel a tinge of embarrassment. He is your boss. But you don’t. This feels right, this feels good. He swipes a finger through your folds and you keen. 

“So wet for me.” he mumbles.

Jack wastes no more time. His tongue makes quick work on your clit. He moves like he knows you. Like he’s done this a million times, like there’s no room for error. And there isn’t. You both knew this needed to be quick. There were patients outside of the door, and the nurses and other doctors will be wondering where you two went. He works at your clit and you try your hardest to not make any noise. He looks up at you while his tongue is buried in you, and you let out a cry. He reaches a free hand up and covers your mouth. You bite down on it and let your head fall back on the lumpy pillow.

Then, Jack pulls away. “The fuck?” you say it into his hand, so it’s a bit muffled.

“We’ve only got time for one thing. You’re gonna come when I do. Just had to get you ready.” He says.

You want to salute. You want to scream. You don’t really know how this is happening. 

Jack pulls off his boxers and you gulp. You see why he needed to get you ready. The length alone was bigger than anything you’ve taken, but he was girthy too. 

He pulls a condom out of a drawer in the room. “Did you stash that in here?” you laugh.

“No, they keep them in here. I always wondered why, but now I see.”

He rolls it on quickly and comes back to the bed. He rests on his heels, taking you in. “Are you sure?” Jack asks again.

“I’m positive. I’ve wanted this since I met you.”

He nods slowly, small smile coming to his lips. He moves so his hands are right next to your head. Jack lines himself up with your entrance and sinks in deep. 

“Shit,” he mumbles. “So fucking tight.”

“You feel so good,” you cry.

“Yeah? This good for you?” He sets a brutalizing pace, hips never faltering. His head falls into your neck again. “Your perfume is driving me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Could smell you whipping around this hospital. Every time you passed me, I thought I was going to have to take you right there.”

He’s rambling now, you realize. Pussydrunk from how you feel. 

“Maybe I’ll have to wear it more, break the rules a bit, if it leads to this.” you say, resisting the urge to moan in the middle of your sentences.

He pants, stifles his own noises. “You’re close,” you say.

“It’s been a while, every time I went on a date, I would just think of you.” 

“Is that true?”

“I’m already in your pants, no reason to lie.” his hips start to stutter. “Y’gonna come with me?”

You scope out the feeling in your stomach and focus in on it, Jack brings a hand down between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. “Fuck, God, yes. Yes, I am.”

The room is filled with heavy breaths, the air has gone thick. You spot a bolt of lightning run through the sky and grab Jack’s head, bringing his ear down to your mouth. “Now,” you whisper.

The thunder hits right as you both finish. It’s loud enough to mask the noises neither of you could hold back. He continues the pace until you come down. You both gasp into each other. Jack slowly pulls out, taking the condom over to the trash can and burying it under some paper towels. 

He comes back to the bed and sits on the edge, massaging your shin. “I’m gonna make an assumption and say that was the best sex of your life,” you scoff, but don’t deny it. “But, we have to get back.”

“I know,” you say, wishing you could stay in this room forever. “God, this is really gonna fuck with my work life balance.”

Jack laughs and stands up, placing a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, lucky girl. We’ll figure it out.”

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.

Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

[roc-haze]

your Will fics are giving me LIFE 💓 obsessed with the latest one, and might need a part 2 🫢 I just love the idea of them getting together, and whenever they’re having problems (individually or as a couple) they sit in the bath again and figure it out as a team 🥹

Spring Into Summer | WillNE

Pushing It Down And Praying - established reader. You can find all other parts here. Can be read as a standalone fic (but would make more sense with the series) 🤍

—

January 1st

The apartment was covered in streamers, glitter and bottle top lids. Will and Y/N had been brave enough to offer up their place for the group’s New Years celebrations.

So far this year, they had witnessed Arthur Hill and George kiss during the ball drop, they’d caught Chip mid tactical vomit in their outdoor plants and Chris had somehow ended up covered in Becky’s bright red lippy.

It was about 3am when the crew had finally emptied out, the couple pottering around their living room with garbage bags and cleaning up before finally deciding to call it a night. They had gotten to work removing copious amounts of glitter from their faces, taking turns sliding the makeup wipes across the his and hers sinks in the bathroom.

Y/N turned to Will, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Sweetheart, just sit on the edge of the bath and I’ll help.”

She stood between his legs, gingerly wiping his face. Will’s hands lay happily on either side of her waist, looking up at her. “Happy new year, darling.”

He was met with a soft smile and a gentle kiss. “Happy new year.”

——

March 11th

Will had asked for one thing for his birthday - a hot bath with his hot girlfriend.

It was about 7pm when they each put their phones on do not disturb and found themselves taking refuge in the bathroom. Somehow, the ensuite had become the cornerstone of their relationship - a no yelling, judgement free space. Anger was welcome on the condition that it was productive and kind in its delivery.

Will had learned that Y/N was a practical woman. They had been friends for years and had known each other throughout each of their respective relationships, but he hadn’t expected her to be the type of partner she was. Having seen her drunkenly yell at her friends shitty boyfriends and put her foot down when Alex’s tongue was a little too sharp, Will had expected her to be slightly impatient and a little quick to anger. He couldn’t be more wrong. Y/N was soft, patient, and practical. She was emotionally intelligent and communicated better than most of the adults he knew (himself included).

On the occasion she would come home from work frustrated, she would tell him “I’m just going to get in the bath. Give me an hour to work through some shit.” And so began their tradition. Angry? Go have some time out in the bath. Need to say something without being interrupted? Let’s go sit on the floor of the bathroom. The drunken chat in George’s bathroom that had started their relationship flowed through it - both of them practicing kindness and tact, forever forthcoming with each other.

Will would text. It’s a bad day. Would love a quiet evening.

Alright. I’ll order a Chinese and get the bath bombs out for you. She knew exactly what he needed.

His birthday was no different.

Candles scattered the bathroom and a Noah Kahan vinyl was playing softly. As requested, Y/N had found a nice chilled red for them to share. She sat behind Will, his back flush against her chest and his hands resting softly on her thighs. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke about his day, scratching his scalp from time to time.

“You know, I think this has been my favourite birthday ever.” He mumbled, eyes closed.

She hummed. “Is that so?”.

“Yeah. I got to spend the day with the boys, playing football and having a nice pub meal. Had friends calling me all day to tell me they love me.” She squeezed his shoulder as he spoke. “And as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve come home to find the most beautiful girl in the world making my favourite dinner and running us a bath.”

Y/N smirked. “She sounds like she’s pretty great.”

“You can’t have her. She’s pretty fuckin’ hot.” He laughed, leaning backwards. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his temple.

“You’re pretty good looking for an old man.” A cheeky grin was plastered across her face.

He laughed heartily, his chest vibrating. “Oh, fuck off! You won’t be getting any of my pension.”

——

June 23rd

The tension was palpable. The minute Y/N had walked into the apartment, Will could tell a breakdown was imminent.

“You’ve had a shit day, haven’t you?” he asked from across the living room.

“I love you but I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m like fucking vibrating with anger and I’m not about to take that out on you.” She stated, calmly putting away her work bag and hanging up her coat. “Hi boys.”

Freezy, Lux, Josh and Harry were visiting Will for a few quiet afternoon drinks (secretly also wanting to catch up with Y/N). Y/N would normally love to sit and indulge in a glass of wine with them all, probing them all for the gossip they usually wouldn’t share with the wider group.

Y/N had been through the door for all of 2 minutes before Freya walked in, bottle of rosé in one hand and a bag of treats in the other.

“I have brought bathers, alcohol and snacks. Let’s go rot in the bath.” Freya kissed Y/N’s cheek and they made their way to the ensuite bathroom.

Josh grinned watching the two women interact. “I’m glad Frey and Y/N are such good mates.”

Will nodded. “Me too. They had me in stitches when they got on the piss last weekend.”

“I heard you got kicked out of your bed!” Freezy laughed.

“Yeah, they wanted to have a girls night so I set up shop in the spare room.” Will explained, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“You should’ve come over to my place, Frey wasn’t there to spoon me so there was plenty of room.” Josh winked at Will, the room erupting in giggles.

A loud ‘oh, fuck off! What a cunt!’ could be heard from a few rooms over, sounding distinctly like Freya. Laughter then ensued.

About an hour later, the two girls emerged in matching pyjamas, each holding a half finished bottle of wine.

Josh quirked an eyebrow. “Where’d you get your pjs from, Frey?”.

She looked back at him, puzzled. “Y/N bought a pair to keep in my room.”

Will laughed. “Sorry, your room?”.

“I just keep some cozy clothes and toiletries in the spare room for Freya,” Y/N explained. “There’s a drawer there for Talia too.”

“You normally end up having sleepovers in our room anyways.” Will explained.

“Oh, would you prefer I give Freya one of your drawers?”. Y/N grinned cheekily.

——

October 5th

The sun was going down as Y/N arrived home. “Honey, I’m home!” She called out.

“We’re in the bathroom!” Will yelled back.

Y/N walked through the apartment and into the bathroom, finding Will laying in a tub full of ice. He was yapping to Ieuan and Mikey, who were deep in conversation about the latest, most controversial football player signing. Mikey sat on the edge of the bath while Ieuan was sitting on the floor, up against the vanity.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you in forever!” Ieuan rose to his feet, pulling her into a quick hug.

“I know, right! I’ve been saying to Will that I’d love to have all of you guys round for dinner once this shoot is over.” She smiled at him, squeezing his arm gently.

Mikey piped up. “I’ll come if Will’s not invited.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “You’re literally sat on the edge of me bath, staring straight at us.”

Y/N smirked. “You two do look a bit intimate over there.”

Ieuan, Mikey and Y/N opted to leave Will to rot in ice cold misery and have a cup of tea instead. The three of them were spread across the couches, each clutching a blanket and exchanging stories from their week.

“The sidemen have asked me to do a huge shoot with them, but it overlaps with the football video Will’s doing for Chris. They’re going to Australia and doing a shit load of content while they’re there.” Ieuan relayed, clutching his mug between his hands. “I don’t wanna turn the opportunity down but I promised Will that I’d help out.”

“You should go to Australia. He’ll get over it.” Y/N spoke matter-of-factly, sipping her tea.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Will’s side? You’re his girlfriend.” Mikey quizzed.

“I am. He would be disappointed if he found out you turned down a huge opportunity like that to film for him and Chris.” She spoke clearly. “I know he’s your employer, but Will thinks the world of you guys and he’s not about to stand in the way of your professional development.”

As if his ears were burning, Will entered the room. “What are you all talking about?”.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Ieuan.

“I’ve had a cool opportunity pop up at the same time as the Chris shoot, and Y/N was just telling me that I should ditch the Chris job and do this other thing instead.” Ieuan nervously spoke.

Will sat down on the couch next to Y/N, manoeuvring her blanket to cover his legs. “What’s the opportunity?”.

“It’s 2 weeks in Australia with the sidemen. James put me up for the job.”

“Yeah, fuck Chris. Go to Australia.” The lanky Geordie stole a sip of his girlfriend’s tea. He looked to her, nodding approvingly. “This shit is good.”

“Wait, are you sure? I don’t wanna leave you in the lurch.” Ieuan’s eyes were pleading.

Will looked at the man, his gaze softening. “Go to Australia. Y/N was right. There will always be another Chris video, but this thing in Australia could be a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Ieuan nodded softly, turning to look at Y/N. Thank you, he mouthed.

Mikey looked to Will, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We should put you in an ice bath more often, it softens you up.”

“Can we please stop filming videos where I have to run all of the time? My bones feel fucking brittle and frail after laying in all of that ice.” Will exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “Must be elder abuse or something.”

——

December 30th

Will and Y/N had been having a slight disagreement in the kitchen, their voices raised and jaws clenched.

Y/N wordlessly put her phone on do not disturb, placed it on the counter and picked up her glass of wine, making her way to the bathroom. Will got the hint and followed.

The two sat in the bath, their knees tucked in but touching slightly as Will shuffled to fit his tall frame comfortably.

“Okay, let’s reset,” She began. “What’s bothering you?”.

“I just feel a little riled up after the trip away. I realise that you and Alex are from the same hometown, you know the same people and that your old friends don’t give a second thought to mentioning him - but I want it to be clear that I am committed to you. I’m not the consolation prize for him.” He spoke clearly, rather monotone to avoid swaying one way emotionally.

“I don’t think you’re a consolation prize at all. I truly do think it is just small town mentality for them to continue talking about him.” She sighed, having a mouthful of wine.

“I heard you defending me. I just wanna know you actually think those things.” He was timid, not wanting to meet her eyes.

Will’s the one. He doesn’t even compare to Alex. He’s what I’ve always wanted.

“Will, I love you. I will go wherever you go. You’re my person.” She stated, holding her free hand out for his.

He gently intertwined their fingers. “How do you feel about doing the whole domestic, married life thing?”.

“I’d marry you tomorrow. I’m in it for the long haul.” She smiled softly. “Spring into summer, I’m here.”

“Okay, so if I ask?”. He looked her straight in the eyes.

“It’ll be a yes.”

I hope he asks. I wanna be with him forever.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them, before he spoke. “Do you feel like you have a bit of deja vu?”.

“I do, actually.” They each sipped their wine, enjoying the stillness. Her face lit up, remembering that same conversation they’d had in George’s bathtub so long ago. “Hey, sweetheart?”.

“Yeah, darling?”.

“Don’t forget to call.” She smiled.

His eyes softened. “Don’t forget to answer.”

——

A/N: Hi lovely anon, I hope this is what you were after? It was hard to write something that was totally based on them having disagreements or going through hardship, so I thought the changing seasons might be a better option (very open to feedback here!!).

My apologies friends - this is yet another scheduled post. I have seen a couple of requests come through and am slowly chipping away at them during my downtime. Please keep them coming (I especially love the ones based around songs/musicians as it is kinda the whole style of this blog).

Love you all, have a fabulous week ahead ❤️❤️

Roc xx

[vettelsvee]

hiii!! 2 with oscar please?😭

YOU WANT THAT BOOK? I'LL BUY YOU THE WHOLE SERIES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar takes you to a bookstore and, after he sees you fingerling over a saga, he decides to buy it for you (without knowing it was about fictional versions of Formula 1 drivers) ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 1891

WARNINGS: Brief mention of drugs, mentions to Dirty Air saga (spoiler free) with not much knowledge about it

VEE'S NOTES: Was I expecting posting a fic today? No. Did I have to write something to distress after the pretty bad exam I made today? Yes! Now writing this and thinking about Teacher!Seb fics has made me feel in a better mood (ngl I'm pretty disappointed with myself). Anyways, hope you like today's fic and remember that, if you did, feel free to comment me your thoughts and, also, reblog as it helps me a lot! Thank you so much for reading <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The moment you crossed the doors of the bookstore, you felt like you were at home.

Maybe it was the scent of vanilla and coffee, or perhaps the instrumental music playing softly, just like the one you were used to listen to at home in the afternoons while spending hours lost in a book and its story. You were so excited that you gripped Oscar’s hand tightly, your heart pounding faster than usual at the movie-like moment you were living.

"Alright…" Oscar began, his gaze wandering in every direction, completely absorbed by the towering bookshelves surrounding you both. "I’ve taken you to a bookstore, so I think my job here is officially done."

You stared at him in disbelief before rolling your eyes.

"Osc, you don’t just take your girlfriend to a bookstore. You stay with her the whole time to live the experience, you know… that whole reader's boyfriend thing."

Now it was Oscar’s turn to roll his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile as you spun around and rushed toward a nearby table. Despite having little to no interest in reading, unless it involved race reports or it was Mark Webber’s biography, he loved the passion you had for books. Though, much to your dismay, he had never actually finished any of your recommendations even you insisted on him a lot.

"Yeah, okay, sure. You lead the way, Mrs. Bookworm…"

You weren’t listening. Instead, you were completely lost, eyes darting from one book to another, unable to stand still from sheer excitement. The overwhelming number of stories in front of you didn’t help either.

Then, it happened. The moment you spotted the book you had been searching for longer than you cared to admit, you let out a small squeal. Oscar jumped at the sudden sound, hurrying over to you only to find you clutching a red book, turning it over in your hands, inhaling its scent like it was some rare artifact.

"Oh… my… god…" you whispered.

Oscar glanced at the cover. Throttled. His eyes flickered to the camera and polaroids, especially the one in the center, which showed a red car eerily similar to the one Charles had driven a few years back when he first joined Ferrari.

"Oh…" Oscar muttered as realization hit him. "So it’s a Formula 1 book…"

Do Formula 1 romantic books exist?, thought Oscar, a bit in disbelief.

You turned to him, shoving the book in his face.

"It’s not just a Formula 1 book! It’s THE Formula 1 book! Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted it for?"

"Since before we started dating, or after?" he teased, smirking. "You’re dating an actual Formula 1 driver, and here you are, thrilled to read a love story about one."

"Noah Slade is different. Very different, actually."

"Oh, so I guess this Noah guy is gonna replace me now, huh?" Oscar feigned offense.

"Well… I like you more. A lot more. And… I don’t know… you’re you. No one could ever compare, so…"

It wasn’t just you who turned red. Oscar did too, lowering his gaze while you pretended to read the book, using the pages as a shield to hide just how flustered you were.

This wasn’t how you had imagined telling Oscar you loved him for the first time.

"Well…" you tried to speak, clearing your throat, but Oscar cut in.

"Are you getting it?"

You opened your mouth but hesitated. It was a limited edition, and also very expensive. If you bought this one, you’d have to get the rest of the series too, but you were broke because, of course, you had impulsively bought five books just last week.

"Uh… I don’t know…" you murmured.

He studied your face for a few seconds, and without thinking too much about it, he stepped closer and grabbed the book from you.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Buying it for you,” he said casually as he walked toward the checkout.  

“Oscar, don’t you dare!” you shouted, rushing after him and snatching the book from his hands to put it back on the shelf. “You don’t have to—”  

“You want that book?” he asked. You nodded timidly. “I’ll buy you the whole series.”  

You stumbled, nearly falling as you tried to stop Oscar from grabbing Collided, Wrecked, and Redeemed.

“Oscar, you can’t just buy me an entire series just because…” you whispered, trying to keep up with his hurried steps.  

“Oh, no? And why not?”  

“Because… Because…” You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to find a reasonable enough answer to make him stop. “Because… It's too much money, Osc, that’s not right!”  

Oscar laughed. You knew perfectly well that your boyfriend was a millionaire, and even though he was very careful with his money and his expenses, buying four books wasn’t much of an expense for him the way it was for you.  

“Besides, you already spend so much time around the Formula 1 world. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to spend even more time listening to me obsess over fictional drivers and talk about them nonstop.”  

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be more than happy to hear you ramble about those cheap copies of us,” Oscar scoffed, smiling at the cashier as he handed over the books.  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, giving up as the woman started scanning the books.  

“And yet you love me…”  

Your face burned instantly. Not knowing how to respond, you focused on watching Oscar swipe his card and chat briefly with the cashier about you, his girlfriend, before taking the paper bag with the books inside.  

“Boys nowadays should be more like you, son,” the woman commented to Oscar, beaming. Then she turned to you. “And you, sunshine, enjoy your books and your wonderful boyfriend as well!”  

You nodded shyly. Oscar bid the woman goodbye and headed for the exit, holding the bag in one hand while placing the other on your back, guiding you outside before wrapping an arm around your waist.  

You couldn’t stop wondering what you had done to deserve such a thoughtful and attentive boyfriend like Oscar.  

“So, I guess now you’re going to try to make me read this series… Dirty Air, am I right?”  

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, finally looking at him and pushing aside that lingering shyness, the feeling that you didn’t deserve such a gift. “I’m convinced you’re going to fall in love with Santiago Alatorre.”  

“Santiago Alatorre?” Oscar repeated, curious. “Wait, wait… Are these characters, like… completely fictional? Or are they based on any of us?”  

You chuckled softly, carefully taking the bag from Oscar because you were excited to carry it yourself.  

“Well…”  

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t know, because that’s already an answer in itself.”  

You bit your lip, unsure whether to tell him the truth. It was obvious, really, but you felt… weird about him discovering the fantasies the author had written based on some of them, and moreover the fandom surrounding those stories.  

“Okay, fine…” you sighed, giving in. “Yeah, some of them are based on you guys.”  

“And?”  

Oscar raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know more about what was written about them.

“What do you mean and?”

“Who each of us is who. If there are supposedly four main characters…”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” You played with your hands, mentally trying to stay calm and not go into full fangirl mode, like you always did whenever Oscar talked about something that excited him. “So… Noah is supposed to be Charles, at least physically and in terms of teammates… but his personality and life are much more like Max’s. You know, toxic father and all that…”

“So, this Noah guy is a menace? Like Max back during the 2023 season?”

“No, no! I guess he’s… ambitious, let’s say.”

“And the others?”

“Liam, the one from the second book, is a bit complicated,” you commented. “People see him as Pierre, and some others as Mick, but to me, since he’s German, he’s kinda like Nico Rosberg mixed with Seb’s personality from his Red Bull years… or at least the way teenage girls see him, like a playboy type. I think you’re too sure what I’m talking about”

“And not just teenage girls I must say,” Oscar added.

“Then there’s Jax, who is one hundred percent Lewis,” you continued. “Jax is Liam’s teammate, so it makes sense, you know… what I explained to you earlier.”

Oscar nodded, understanding very little but happy to see you so excited.

“And the last one, Santiago, the one I mentioned before, is Carlos,” you blurted out with a growing smile. “He’s Spanish and Charles’... I mean, Noah's teammate! And, well… they say he’s really cute, so I hope to read the first three books as quickly as possible to get to his.”

“I’m starting to think that, from the way you talk about him, he’s going to become your newest addition to you not so short fictional crushes list,” Piastri laughed.

“Oh, absolutely. You know I have a thing for the good guys, and according to the TikToks I’ve watched, Santi is exactly that.”

“I can’t believe you’re fantasizing over fictional versions of my rivals,” Oscar said, tilting his head as he laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, Osc. Why do you think I like Santi so much from what I’ve seen? Because he’s supposed to be as much of a sweetheart as you!” you exclaimed. “But I promise that no matter how much I talk about these guys after tonight, once I start the first book, it’ll just be some kind of substitute for you or whatever ridiculous thing you’re imagining.”

“You know what?” You tilted your head. “I think you should write one of those Formula 1 romance books based on our story.”

Your eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what your boyfriend had just said.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it. You should do it,” Piastri shrugged. “I know how much you love writing, and seeing how happy these books make you… Plus, I’m curious to see what kind of terrible personality you’d give me. You could make me the typical egotistical guy who constantly gets into PR trouble for, I don’t know, smoking weed? Like what happened with Zayn and Louis from One Direction. You told me about that once, right?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter and look serious, but it was impossible.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not already writing a fanfic about us and posting it on Tumblr.”

Oscar’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

You laughed again.

“No, Y/N, that’s not funny. You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking…”

“Do you really think I am?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, feeling quite pleased that you had finally confessed one of your best-kept secrets, one you had been dying to tell him even you felt a bit ashamed.

Oscar stared at you, his mind struggling to process the information.

Were people actually reading a story about his life, possibly with real details, and thinking it was completely fictional?

“What exactly are you writing about… us, Y/N?”

You just giggled, took his hand, interlaced your fingers with his, and kept walking.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to check out jellyastri81 on Tumblr and find out for yourself.”

[flowery-mess]

in the woods

pairing: Noah x female reader

words: 840, it's just a little something with a moodboard that's been on my mind for a few days

Noah masterlist

Rain. The sound of raindrops against the big glass that allows you to see a number of different shades of green. Many would say the dark forest was scary, but not you, you find it calming, peaceful.

Fog. The greyish color that almost makes it look like the forest is covered by the softest blanket. An unforgettable part of the autumn weather, your favorite time of the year.

Warmth. The warmth of Noah’s hands on your skin. There is this big love seat in front of the window. It’s soft and comfy, almost like it was made for the two of you. Like if you were meant to stay here, hidden from the whole world.

You both felt like you needed a break, a pause from the day to day life. From responsibilities and from people. Just the two of you.

You booked this cabin just a few hours before you left your home.

The drive was a few hours long, but you didn’t mind that. You and Noah always found something to do in his car on long drives, this time you played “I’m thinking of” while listening to your shared playlist.

Noah made you laugh many times during that game with his little comments here and there and you made his face soften every time you guessed the thing he was thinking of and was so excited about it.

When you got bored of that game a silence took over the car and you turned the volume higher so you both could be in your own heads for a minute.

When you got close to the cabin you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window.

You drove through small villages, each unique in its own way. You saw stray cats running around, kids swinging on the playground and two older women sitting on a bench together, talking about whatever was currently happening in their lives.

Then you entered the forest, the one you’re looking at now. It swallowed you completely with its beauty.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” you asked Noah with your eyes still locked on the outside.

“It really is beautiful.” you hear Noah say behind you. In the car he just chuckled at your excitement for the forest, he was focused on the road and the GPS that wasn’t working due to bad signal.

But now when he’s sitting on the loveseat with you against his chest, he can finally relax and admire the beauty of nature in front of you.

The whole moment is beautiful, the forest just making it perfect.

Noah’s hands lift the blanket that’s over your intertwined bodies, making sure you’re covered and warm.

In the background you can hear the sounds of cracking wood in the small fireplace in the big living room.

Noah’s hands sneak under the blanket, wrapping around your waist so you’re closer to him, as close as possible.

You feel his warm lips against your hair and you can’t help the smile on your face. In this moment you feel safe, happy and loved. Everything you ever wished for, Noah gives it to you any chance he gets.

You’re nowhere close to the end of your stay, but you know already that you never want to leave this place, this bubble made only of the two of you.

You watch the raindrops race with each other on the glass, squeezing Noah’s hands when you hear the thunder.

“I’ve got you.” he whispers against your hair.

And you know that.

You stare into the void and think of the next few days ahead of you.

Tonight you’re going to sleep in the big bed upstairs and make love before you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Noah’s going to worship every part of you, just like he always does. Not a single part of your body goes unnoticed by his hands or lips. He’s whispering sweet words of encouragement and sweet nothings in your ear when his head is in the crook of your neck, when he’s on the edge of the high. His hand always slips between your bodies to make sure you two fall apart together.

Then he’s going to make you get up from the comfy bed and take a shower with him. A hot one, where he will wash your body like you were made of glass.

Falling asleep in his arms and wrapped in the soft sheets will be the best way to end this day. He’s going to hold you, caress your hair with so much love in his touch. You’re going to think about the plans for the next days, only wondering what the two of you will be doing, because Noah said to leave the plans to him, that he’ll make sure you’re going to like whatever he comes up with.

And you trust him with that. You trust him with your whole life.

“I love you.” will be the last thing he whispers before you two will fall asleep, together, safe in each other’s embrace and very loved.

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

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

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: angst

Series masterlist

The first night without Noah felt like the heaviest.

You slipped under the covers, the soft fabric of your pajamas feeling foreign against your skin in the quiet of the room.

Your house felt cold and empty, now that you were used to spending almost every night at Noah's. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to find some comfort in its warmth, but it did little to ease the ache in your chest. The silence around you seemed louder than ever, pressing in from all sides.

The thought of how you were going to live without Noah now weighed on you—heavy and suffocating. No more goodnight texts to look forward to. No more knowing that when you woke up in the morning, his goodmorning text would be waiting, like a little promise that he was thinking of you. It felt strange, almost impossible to imagine a morning where that wouldn’t be the first thing you’d see.

You could already picture the screen lighting up with his name, his words that always made you smile—good night, beautiful. That simple, small gesture that made everything feel a little brighter when you weren’t physically with him.

But there would be no message waiting for you now. There would be no good mornings, no arms around your waist when you’d stir in the early hours of the day. No Noah. The thought made your stomach churn, and the emptiness settled deeper within you. You turned your head, eyes lingering on the empty space beside you. It was cold, untouched, and as the minutes stretched on, you felt a deep sense of isolation.

You grabbed your phone, half-hoping, half-knowing that there would be no text from him.

You were half expecting a "hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. Can I call you?" but you were aware that if you hadn't received it since that morning, it would never have came.

You dropped the phone beside you, closing your eyes tightly as if willing the sadness away. You tried to remind yourself that this was for the best—that everything would be okay, that you’d be fine. But the ache in your chest felt too real, too present.

With a sigh, you curled into yourself, pulling the covers tighter around your body. There was no point in pretending it didn’t hurt, no point in pretending you didn’t long for his touch, the sound of his voice, the comfort of knowing that he still loved you.

You turned onto your side, and you opened your eyes, staring at the wall in front of you, trying to force your mind to slow, but it wouldn't let you. Thoughts of Noah—of his absence—raced through your mind, each one more painful than the last. You had never imagined it would end up like this.

Your heart tightened, and before you could stop it, the first tear since you had stopped crying that morning, slipped down your cheek.

It wasn’t a sob, not a loud cry that broke through the night. It was soft, quiet—just a single tear slipping into the pillow. And then another. Slowly, quietly, the tears came.

You tried to wipe them away, tried to tell yourself you’d be fine, that this was just a moment, just one night. But the ache in your chest wouldn’t go away. You curled up tighter, as if holding yourself would somehow make it hurt less, but it didn’t.

Your breathing became uneven, soft sobs shaking through your body.

And so, with the tears still on your cheeks and your pillow wet, you eventually drifted off to sleep.

You spent the night tossing and turning in your bed, having strange dreams that you remembered nothing of when you woke up.

The first morning you woke up without Noah was the worst.

The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, but it did nothing to lift the weight pressing on your chest. You woke up with a jolt and you turned your alarm off. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, you thought maybe the day before had all been some twisted nightmare, but then the truth sank in. Noah had actually broken up with you. The words you had tried to avoid saying to yourself now echoed in your mind with cruel finality: He broke up with me.

The realization made your stomach churn. You dragged yourself out of bed, the ache in your chest never fully subsiding, and you moved through the motions—getting dressed, going through the routines—but it all felt so foreign now.

You forced yourself to get to work. The drive and then short walk to the café were mechanical, your feet carrying you without much thought. You couldn't stop your mind from replaying Noah's words, each detail sharper and more painful than the last. You tried to shake it off, but nothing worked.

When you stepped into the café, the familiar smell of coffee and baked goods hit you, but it did little to soothe the hollow ache gnawing at your insides. Grace was already behind the counter, arms crossed, a sharp look in her eyes as she surveyed the room. As soon as she saw you, however, her gaze softened just a fraction, a rare flicker of concern crossing her usually cold demeanor.

She leaned over the counter, arching an eyebrow. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck.”

You tried to force a smile, but it fell flat, barely a twitch at the corners of your mouth. Grace's eyes narrowed, sensing something deeper than just a rough morning. She stepped closer, studying you with an intensity you weren't really used to from her.

"Hey. What happened?” she asked again, her tone a little less biting than usual.

You opened your mouth to lie, to give some casual response, but the words wouldn’t come. You bit your lip, feeling the lump in your throat rise. And suddenly, there was no avoiding it. You couldn’t keep it inside anymore. “Noah… Noah broke up with me yesterday.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Grace’s face shifted, the usual sarcasm and sharpness giving way to something softer, more human. For the first time, she didn’t seem like the usual bitchy barista who took pleasure in her snide remarks.

"What? Why?"

"I swear I didn't do anything, Grace. I barely touched Jason. He came drunk at Noah's house in the middle of the night and I let him in because he had nowhere else to go. I was just trying to be... I don't know. Nice? I just didn't want to leave him out. Noah found him there the next morning and there are pictures online and he thinks I cheated on him or something and this was all Jason’s plan because I saw the way he looked at me when he left and I-" you had to stop talking when your eyes filled with tears again.

"Fuck." You whispered to yourself.

Grace stared at you for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, she pushed herself off the counter and walked around to where you stood. “Hey,” she said, her voice quieter now, more sincere. “I know I’m always a bitch, but I’m not a monster. Come here.”

And before you could protest, before you could even fully process what was happening, Grace wrapped her arms around you in a hug. It was awkward at first, like she wasn’t entirely sure how to comfort you, but the warmth of her embrace was unexpected. It wasn’t the type of hug you would’ve expected from her—no witty comment or sarcastic remark—but something real, something unspoken.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly, holding you a moment longer than you anticipated. “If Jason shows up here again I swear I will kill him with my own hands. Sorry for thinking he was better than Noah. He's an ass."

You stood there for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry. But all you could do was let yourself be held, just for a moment.

In the days that followed, things shifted in a way that felt unsettlingly quiet, like a weight pressing down on you. Jason never showed up at the café again, and you didn’t see him even once, despite working just across the street.

You were kind of relieved.

But what was truly breaking you was Noah’s absence.

And you missed Luna too. It was a sharper ache than you'd anticipated, you never thought you would become so attached to a three year old.

You missed making up silly bedtime stories to help her fall asleep, hearing her little giggles as she tried to weave together her own, completely nonsensical tales. You missed how her face would light up with excitement whenever Noah would do something small for her.

She had always been the bright, lively part of your evenings, and without her, everything seemed duller. You missed seeing Noah be so gentle and sweet with her, the way he’d always make sure she felt cared for and loved. It hurt to know that you wouldn't see that again.

Work was different now, too. You could feel it—how much more distracted you were, how your mind kept drifting back to Noah, to Luna, to the empty space in your life that you couldn't seem to fill. You tried to focus, to get through your shifts, but it was like trying to move through thick mud. Everything felt slower, harder, as if the weight of the world had settled squarely on your shoulders. But Grace... Grace was different, too.

She could see it, even though she didn’t say much. She didn’t make a big deal out of your distraction, didn’t call you out on it like she might have before. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. It was as if she knew that you were barely holding it together and didn’t need to hear a snide remark or a sarcastic comment.

Instead, Grace seemed to give you space. She watched you, but not in a judgmental way. When you stumbled over your words while taking an order, when your thoughts wandered too far off track, she didn’t make it harder.

There was no passive-aggressive comment, no mocking smile. She just let you be. It wasn’t the support you would have expected from someone like her, but you appreciated it more than anything.

You were starting to think Grace wasn't that bad, after all.

But still, no matter how many times you forced yourself to focus, no matter how many breaths you took to calm your racing thoughts, there was a constant hum in your mind, a reminder that Noah wasn’t there, that Luna wasn’t there, that your world had irrevocably shifted.

You would look out the window occasionally, seeing the world moving on outside, while you stood still, trapped in your own sadness, trying to figure out what to do next. You weren’t sure what to expect from the days ahead, whether things would feel better or worse. But right now, everything felt so heavy—too heavy to move forward, yet too necessary to stay where you were. The truth was, you were just trying to survive the days, to make it through until something changed, though you weren't sure what that change would look like or when it would come.

But at least you had work. It gave you something to do, something to occupy your mind, even if only for a few hours. When you walked into the café each morning, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt like things could be normal again. Almost.

Every time someone entered and you heard the little bell jingle on top of the door, you almost imagined seeing Noah enter holding Luna's hand, ready to order a tea for him and some cookies for Luna.

The days seemed to blur together and they became two full, long weeks. You were going through the motions, but everything felt muted, like the world was happening around you while you were stuck.

It was another early afternoon when Grace approached you in the café. You were leaning against the counter, wiping down a table, when she walked up to you, her arms crossed and eyes focused, a serious look on her face.

“So, what’s your plan?” she asked, her voice softer than usual, but with an edge that made it clear she wasn’t asking about your work schedule.

You blinked, caught off guard. You hadn’t really thought about it. What was your plan? How were you supposed to move forward from here, when everything felt like it was falling apart?

You let out a breath, leaning against the counter as you thought about her question. “What should I do?” you replied, the words coming out in a soft, helpless tone.

Grace didn’t hesitate. “Honey, you love him,” she said, her voice almost gentle despite her tough exterior. “As much as I’ve never been a fan of your rockstar boyfriend, you know I don’t hate him. Seeing you like this... it’s depressing.”

You stared at her, not sure if you wanted to feel grateful for her honesty or irritated. But the words hit harder than you expected. She wasn’t wrong. Noah had been a huge part of your life, and seeing him gone felt like a part of you had been ripped out, leaving a raw, empty space. But hearing someone else acknowledge that hurt made it all the more real.

Grace continued, a slight frown crossing her face. “So, what’s your plan? Just sit here and let this eat you up?”

You swallowed, feeling the lump in your throat return. “He left me,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “He didn’t let me talk. He didn’t believe a single word I said. I can’t do anything.”

Grace’s eyes softened, a hint of frustration in them. “Have you tried talking to his friends? Or... I don’t know... doing something? If you really love him, don’t give up. Don’t just let this be the end of it.”

The words felt like a slap in the face, but not in a bad way. You knew Grace wasn’t the type to coddle anyone, but there was something in her voice, something genuine that made you feel like maybe you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“I just want him to be happy,” you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “And if this means... if this means I have to let him go—”

“No,” Grace cut in, her tone firm, no room for argument. “Noah was happy with you. You don’t just throw that away because of some misunderstanding or some stupid argument. You have to do something.”

Her words rang in your ears, echoing louder than you’d like. You didn’t want to fight. You didn’t want to push Noah, not when it seemed like he was done with you. But what if she was right? What if there was something more to say, something more to fight for?

“I don’t know what to do,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. “I’ve tried. I don’t know how to make him believe me.”

Grace stepped closer, her voice dropping to something quieter, more sincere. “You don’t know until you try. But don’t just sit there and let him slip away. You’ll regret it.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her words pressing on you. Maybe she was right.

"I don't want to regret it," you whispered, almost to yourself.

Grace gave a sharp nod, as if she’d been expecting that answer. “Then do something. If you love him, fight for him. Don’t give up.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You could feel the weight of her words settling on your shoulders, but there was a flicker of hope inside you that had been buried for so long. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe you could fix things. Maybe this wasn’t the end.

As you turned back to the counter, Grace’s words kept echoing in your mind: Don’t give up.

But how could you fix that mess when it was all your fault?

Noah hadn’t been able to focus on anything since the day you walked away. He felt like he was suffocating, a weight pressing down on his chest that he couldn’t shake off, no matter how many times he tried to breathe through it. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the house most days, his feet heavy as though they were cemented to the floor, each step a battle he couldn’t win.

He spent most of his time in bed, or just leaving the house to drop Luna at daycare and to go take her, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the last few moments with you over and over again.

When Luna was around, he tried to be strong. He put on a mask of normalcy for her, making sure she had her breakfast, getting her dressed for school, pretending that everything was okay for her sake.

But he felt like he was falling apart a second time.

His heart was fractured, shattered in a way he hadn’t known was possible, and no matter how hard he tried to keep it together, the cracks were starting to show. When Luna asked about you—"Is she coming over today, Daddy?"—his heart twisted. He would force a smile, brushing it off, telling her you were busy or that it would happen soon, but inside, he was dying.

Every time he saw her light up with excitement, every time she innocently mentioned something that reminded him of you, it was like another piece of him was ripped away.

One of the worst things was that this time, somehow, it hurt even more than when Hannah left him.

He hated himself for it. He hated that he couldn’t let go of the anger, of the hurt. He told himself that he was right, that the pictures, the situation with Jason, it all pointed to something he couldn’t ignore.

But at night, when the house was silent and Luna was asleep, he could feel the emptiness gnawing at him. He would lie in bed, wide awake, staring into the dark, his thoughts too loud, his mind too restless. It was the worst kind of silence—the one that stretched on for hours and reminded him of how alone he really was.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten a full meal. He didn’t have an appetite, not after everything that had happened. The fridge was only full of things he knew Luna was going to eat.

He ate when he had to, but it wasn’t the food that kept him alive—it was the idea that somehow, maybe, he could make it through. But every day, he found himself sinking deeper, each minute dragging him further down. He wasn’t sure if he even deserved to be happy. He had pushed you away, let his insecurities and jealousy get the best of him. And now, he was left with nothing.

Had you really cheated on him? Or had something else happened? Did you still love Jason?

He was starting to think that maybe it had all been in his head all along. That maybe he had overreacted. That maybe you had always loved him. That the fear of being left had pushed him to the point of telling you to leave before you could.

He stayed in bed in silence.

No music. No TV. No distractions. It felt wrong to even try to pretend like things were okay. His usual escape—anime, movies, his guitar—none of it seemed to matter anymore. It all felt so meaningless without you in his life.

The only thing that brought any comfort, even if it was fleeting, was Luna’s presence. When she was with him, he could almost forget about the mess he’d created. She had this way of making the world feel smaller, easier to handle, even if just for a little while.

But once she was asleep, it was back to the silence. And with the silence came the thoughts he couldn’t escape. What had he done? Why hadn’t he trusted you? The truth clawed at him every time he closed his eyes, a brutal reminder of the mistake he had made. He had pushed you out of his life, and now all he could do was wonder if it was too late to fix it. Would you even want him back? He didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

His dark circles grew darker. His face looked worn, tired. Even when he forced himself to get up in the mornings, to take Luna to daycare or go through the motions of the day, he could feel the weight of it all dragging him down. No matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to busy himself, there was this hole in his chest that wouldn’t go away. That only you could fill.

And then, there were the dreams. Night after night, he dreamt of you. Sometimes it was sweet—a memory of the two of you laughing, Luna running around in the background, her giggles ringing out or a moment spent together during the night, the feeling of your lips caressing his skin and your hands tracing every single tattoo that covered his body all too real. Other times, it was a nightmare, your face twisted in hurt, the look in your eyes that told him he had destroyed everything. He’d wake up sweating, heart racing, only to realize that none of it was real.

He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know if he could. But as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that he couldn’t keep living in this limbo. The thought of letting you go, of walking away from everything you’d built together, was unbearable. He loved you. He always had. And he hated himself for the way things had turned out.

But how could he fix that mess when it was all his fault?

Noah hadn’t been answering his phone for days, so the guys finally decided to drop by and check on him, but when they knocked on the door, they heard no response.

"I swear if he doesn't open the door I'll break it down." Matt said.

"I'm pretty sure there's no need, King Kong." Folio laughed as he took the copy of the house keys from his pocket.

When they got inside, the whole house seemed was dark and quiet, almost like no one was there.

They found Noah lying in bed, his head buried under a mountain of pillows, his body curled up like he was trying to disappear. The others exchanged uneasy glances, standing awkwardly by the doorway for a moment. None of them knew what to say.

Nicholas was the first to break the silence.

“Dude, you okay?”

No response.

Jolly stepped forward and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You haven’t answered any of our calls for days, man. What the hell is going on?” He asked with a hint of concern.

They had all seen the pictures that had been posted on Twitter but Noah hadn't said anything about what happened after they returned from the show.

Noah didn’t move. He just stayed there, his face hidden from them.

Matt scratched his head, his face a mix of confusion and worry. “C'mon, man, what happened with Y/N?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” came the muffled reply from under the pillows.

There was a long pause, and the band members just stood there, unsure of how to respond. They weren’t used to seeing Noah like this. Or at least, the last time they'd seen him like this was after Hannah had left. And this was not a good sign.

"C'mon man. Talk to us." Nicholas tried again.

But Noah didn’t even flinch. He just stayed there, his body heavy and unmoving. The silence stretched on.

Finally, Folio spoke again, his voice a little firmer now, but still gentle. “Noah... dude, you can’t just shut us out like this. We are here because we care, okay?"

Noah sighed, a long, tired exhale, and slowly, he pulled his head from under the pillows, just enough for his face to show. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale, and he looked... well, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Go away,” Noah muttered, barely lifting his head off the bed. “I’m fine.”

Matt pointed his hands at him. “Fine? Is this fine? Dude, you look like a zombie."

Nicholas looked over at the others, his face full of worry. “Maybe we should just let him be,” Jolly suggested quietly, clearly out of his depth with how to handle this.

But Folio wasn’t ready to let Noah retreat that easily. He walked over to the bed, sitting down at the edge and looking at him seriously. “Noah, listen. We’re not leaving until you tell us what’s going on. It’s not just about the band. It’s about you. We’re worried, alright?”

Noah didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes and seemed to sink deeper into the bed, his body still tense with whatever weight he was carrying.

“Come on, Noah,” Matt said, “We can’t help you if you won’t talk to us.”

For a moment, it seemed like Noah wasn’t going to say anything. The room felt heavy, filled with tension.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Noah lifted his head, staring at them with a look of exhaustion. “I don’t know what to say. Everything’s messed up, okay? I’m messed up. Y/N left and I- I just wanna rot here now.”

Folio softened, finally understanding the depth of the pain Noah was in. “You’re not messed up, man,” he said quietly, his voice a little more comforting. “What happened?"

Noah looked away, staring at the wall, as if trying to escape his own thoughts. The band stayed quiet, letting him have the space he needed, but not leaving.

“Just... give me some time,” Noah muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not ready to deal with any of it yet.”

"Noah. It's been almost two weeks." Jolly added.

"Well, I obviously need more than two weeks, then."

The guys exchanged a look. They knew they couldn’t force him to open up, but they also knew they wouldn’t give up on him.

“Alright, we’ll give you time,” Nicholas said softly, “but just know we’re here when you’re ready.”

Noah didn't answer, he just sank his head into his pillow again.

"You need help with Luna? Need anything?" Nicholas added.

"It's fine." Noah mumbled.

They lingered for a few more moments, before finally, one by one, they made their way out of the room, leaving Noah to whatever thoughts he had left.

As the door clicked shut behind them, the soft hum of the outside world filled the empty space left between the guys. They stood on the porch, the cold air biting at their skin. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

Folio shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, staring down at the ground. "I don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “What do you think he meant? ‘Y/N left’... I mean... they were in love. Like... I know her."

Matt shook his head. "Honestly, when I saw those photos, I thought she was cheating on him. Her letting another guy into Noah's house in the middle of the night? What do you think?"

"That’s what I’m saying." Folio’s jaw clenched. “That's impossible. But if Noah won’t give us answers, then I’ll go to the one person who might have them.”

It was just past closing time when Folio parked his car outside the coffee shop, as you locked the door chatting with your colleague—a girl with long, dark hair and sharp eyes. He didn't remember her name.

As he started walking toward you, another figure appeared behind him— a guy with spiked hair, wearing a Sex Pistols t-shirt and black boots.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," the guy said when he reached you, just a moment before he did.

Folio, standing just a few feet away, didn’t wait. He stepped forward, just as the guy did, his voice cutting through the moment with an urgency that mirrored the guy’s.

“We need to talk too,” Folio said, his words almost overlapping with the stranger’s.

When you heard the two guys' voices, you and the other girl turned in unison.

You glanced back and forth between them, confusion flashing across your face. “Um… one at a time, guys,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The guy with the spiked hair raised an eyebrow but smiled, as if the situation was more amusing than anything. “Well, seems like we’re both in line for a conversation,” he said, glancing at Folio.

Folio didn’t take his eyes off of you. “It’s important,” he said, his voice firm.

"Well, what I have to say is important too."

Then, you looked at the guy with the spiky hair. "Hey! I know you. You punched Jason that day!"

"You did what?" Folio raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so it was him!" The girl with black hair spoke.

"Yeah. It was me. But hey, he paid me."

There was a brief moment of silence, all eyes on that weird guy, and then, you all spoke at the same time.

"You did what?"

"He paid you?"

"Wait. What the hell are you all talking about?"

The guy grinned. "See? We all need to have a good talk. Is the café still open? I love cakes."

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog @whenyouwannafindlove @chey-h @kenjipepsi1

[paradiseismine]

Instant Chemistry (part 1) - Finn Wolfhard x reader

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x actress!reader

Warnings: none yet, but of course, this fic will be packed with smut in its future chapters.

Summary: reader is an actress and her agent has a surprise for her - a hot scene in an indie film with one of her favorite actors, Finn Wolfhard.

Format: This is NOT a one shot like the ones I usually post, it’ll likely be a 4 part story (maybe longer).

Love note from Nina: I had a dream about Finnie recently and decided to write it down into a fic. Hope you like it 🫰🏻

Everyone in the industry plays an archetype: that was a given. Some actresses were the goody two shoes, some were femme fatales, some were girls next door. And as crazy as that might sound, you were growing into a femme fatale. That meant that showing some skin and partaking in more sensual roles was bound to happen - and it’s not like it bothered you.

Leo, your agent, had gotten you pretty far for a 22 year old with your background: you had gone from model, to extra in some bigger productions, to main star in a few indie films. You had started acting classes a couple years ago, and was trying really hard to become an actual actress, and make a living solely out of your acting.

One day, you made Leo a huge favor by preventing his future husband of figuring out Leo’s proposal before it actually happened, as it was meant to be a surprise. “I owe you one” he had texted you later that evening, “and I’ll make it count when I pay you back”.

Several weeks had gone by and a project you were once dying to get your hands on was finally going strong. You had gotten home after a long week of shooting your new indie film - a complex and delicate story about a young marginalized prostitute whose dream was to have a romantic relationship and live a normal life. It had some intense sex scenes, but lots of dramatic charge that would surely put your name on the spotlight. With your body exhausted but with your heart smiling, you fell asleep in your new apartment in L.A.

“Morning, rising star” you woke up to Leo texting you, your phone buzzing with his messages. “Remember that one I owe you? Just paid it”.

“lol what did you do?” you responded, the tips of your fingers rushing through the keyboard on your phone screen, curious. Leo was always full of surprises, and you loved that about him.

“You’d told me your fav tv show was stranger things, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, I think I just got one of the ST kids to be with you on a spicy scene next week hehehe” he texted, and your mouth went completely agape. “You’re welcome in advance, darling” he added, his jokingly cocky tone nearly audible.

“omg who????”

And… he didn’t text you back.

Your head was cooking for the entire weekend, trying to figure out which ST actor Leo had convinced to partake in the movie. He had said “ST KIDS”, so it was one of the core four, for sure. You crossed them out in your head after some extensive online research: Noah Schnapp is gay, so he probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such intense sex scenes with a woman… Ok, he’s not it. Gaten Matarazzo is probably busy with some Broadway play, he always is. Not him as well.

Finn Wolfhard is always juggling twenty different gigs at the same time. You wanted him the most, but it was very unlikely he’d take the role. So, Caleb McLaughlin was your best chance. He was surely a darling to work with, you’d heard, so you were still excited to meet him, of course.

As you entered the set on Monday morning, your mind was hung up on the idea that Caleb was your special guest. You’d rehearsed in your head how you’d introduce yourself to him, the things you’d say, everything.

Your brain turned into complete putty once you spotted FINN WOLFHARD sitting on a foldable chair, holding a stack of paper, eyes roaming through the script. Fuck. It was him.

You’d get to kiss him, to rub your body all over him. Not for a minute. Not for an hour. But for a whole day. Heck, maybe even two days. And you’d still get PAID for it. It seemed nearly illegal that a job would do that.

You approached him slowly, trying to gather words into your mouth to simply greet him. Soon, he raised his eyes from the script and spotted you.

- Hi - he smiled sweetly. - You must be y/n, right? I’m Finn, nice to meet you.

He shook your hand politely, and you tried your best to give him a firm handshake (Leo always says that a good handshake is important in a Hollywood career), preventing your fangirl reaction from shining through.

- Oh, hi - you smiled back at him, still trying to seem normal and unimpressed. - That’s me. Should we get to the chemistry read? I’m so excited for this project, you have no idea.

- Me too! I loved the script so much, this is just great - he flipped through the pages, his teeth showing through a cute shy smile.

- Quite a departure from fighting inter dimensional monsters, isn’t it? - you joked.

- Definitely - he laughed, standing up to follow you towards the chemistry reading table.

Once everyone was sat down and settled, the reading began. Finn would be one of your character’s clients, and was only supposed to be in a scene or two, in a cameo appearance type of thing. But at the end of the reading, that seemed likely to change.

The chemistry between the two of you was electric, the director had said. The whole crew was amazed at how naturally you seemed attracted to each other just through your words, how easily the scenes would develop. From a small role, Finn was now asked to play your character’s main love interest.

He called his agent on the spot and pushed back a few band gigs on his schedule and said yes to being half naked with you for a few more days. I mean, the project itself was an indie film, so it wasn’t even good money. His main reason to take the part must’ve been you.

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [11]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: angst.

wc: 3502

Chapter 11: Haven’t I Given Enough?

When do you realize that something you did—some line you crossed—might’ve gone too deep?

For me, it was when Matt Sturniolo started treating me like we were already a year into something real.

Every morning, without fail, there was a matcha in my hand before I could even yawn properly. My favorite toast, always with strawberry jam, waited for me like clockwork. My camera? Always charged, even on the days I forgot to plug it in myself. 

It wasn’t the grand gestures. It was the quiet ones—the ones that made it harder to pretend we were nothing. The ones that made it harder to believe we weren’t everything. 

One week in LA had flown by, and the second was far more relaxed.

Matt had wrapped up most of his photoshoots and meetings, leaving his schedule wide open. I’d spent my free time exploring the city—little bookstores tucked away in quiet corners, beachside cafés, and the art museum I’d always wanted to visit.

When I wasn’t out, I let myself enjoy the apartment. I spent hours soaking in the oversized bathtub in my ensuite, or unwinding in the private hot tub, bubbles rising around me as the city lights glowed beyond the balcony window.

It felt...peaceful. 

Right now, Matt and I were at a quiet dinner spot just off the shore, the soft crash of waves in the distance mixing with the low hum of music. The view was breathtaking—the ocean stretched out endlessly. 

“I love being in LA,” I said, tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into my mouth. “It makes me feel really at peace.”

Matt smiled, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. “You seem to have a heavy dislike for Boston.”

I laughed under my breath. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, eyes still on me, “you left for London for three years, and now you’re saying you love LA, London, and LA couldn’t be more different.”

I tilted my head, considering that. “I guess… I just like places that don’t remind me of home.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Not that I hate home,” I clarified quickly, my fingers playing with the edge of my napkin. “It’s just… sometimes Boston feels suffocating.”

“I get that,” Matt said with a small, understanding smile. “I do prefer Boston, though. That’s where everyone is.”

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh, eyes dropping to my plate. “Well, I don’t really have anyone in Boston.”

Matt’s smile faded, his brows pulling slightly together as he frowned. “You have Noah—well, when he’s around. And you have me now, too.”

My heart did that thing again—skipped a beat, fluttered like it couldn’t make up its mind. I looked up at him, caught in the sincerity in his voice, the softness in his gaze. He meant it.

“You have me now, too.”

It echoed a little louder in my chest than I wanted it to.

Matt looked at me for a moment—really looked at me—like he was gathering his thoughts carefully. The calm confidence he usually carried was still there, but there was a flicker of something softer behind his eyes. A hesitation. Maybe even nerves.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table between us. “So… I’ve been thinking about something.”

I blinked, suddenly aware of how warm my face felt. “Yeah?” 

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “I like being with you, Daphne. I like everything we’ve been doing lately. It feels…good. Easy.”

I nodded slowly, heart racing, unsure where this was going but too afraid to breathe too loudly in case I ruined the moment.

“So,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck for the first time in what felt like forever, “I was wondering if… maybe you’d want to make this official?”

I blinked, stunned. “Official?”

He gave a small, crooked smile—confident, but there was something endearingly shy about it. “Yeah. Like, you know… be my girlfriend?”

I blinked again, my lips parting slightly. My cheeks were on fire. “Oh.”

Matt’s smile faltered for a second. “Unless you don’t want that. Then, uh—”

I shook my head quickly, heart pounding. “No! I do—well, I want to. I just…” I trailed off, chewing the inside of my cheek before finally admitting it. “It’s Noah.”

Matt’s brows furrowed slightly, but he waited.

“I don’t know how he’d react.”

Matt leaned back slightly, studying me. Then, calmly but firmly, he asked, “Do you want to be with me?”

My eyes flicked up to meet his. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I do.”

“Then nothing else should matter,” he said simply. “Especially not your brother.”

Thoughts were running through my head. I want to say yes…I do. This was my dream guy. Matt was my dream man, and he wanted me. 

I sighed, glancing down. “Can we just… keep it on the downlow for a bit? Just until I figure out how to talk to him?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then I heard the faintest chuckle, warm and low. “So you’re agreeing,” he said, his grin spreading. “You’d agree for me to be your boyfriend?”

A warm blush crept into my cheeks, and I gave a small, bashful nod.

“I want to hear you say it,” he said, voice low and teasing.

“Say what?” I asked, already feeling my smile tug at my lips.

He leaned in just a little, his gaze soft but unwavering. “I want Matt Sturniolo to be my boyfriend.”

I let out a quiet laugh, heart racing. Then, looking at him through my lashes, I whispered, “I want Matt to be my boyfriend.”

His smile was immediate, soft, proud, and full of something that made my stomach twist in the best way. He reached over, lacing our fingers together across the table.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

“How many girlfriends have you had?” I asked softly. We were back at the apartment now, tucked under a blanket on the couch. The TV was on, but neither of us was really watching.

Matt let out a low huff. “Do we really want to get into that?” he asked, glancing at me.

I grinned. “I’m just curious.”

He rolled his eyes, then answered flatly, “Four.”

My brows lifted slightly in surprise.

“One in high school,” he said. “Three during college... and one after.”

I nodded slowly, filing that away, even though part of me already felt a flutter of nerves just knowing the number. 

“Four’s not bad,” I said, trying to sound casual, though the thought of him with someone else still made my stomach twist a little.

Matt turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, well… not all of them were serious. Some lasted a few months, some barely even that.”

A sudden thought slipped out before I could stop it. 

“I don’t remember you having a girlfriend back in high school.”

Matt chuckled softly. “That’s because, sweetheart, you were way younger then, and barely ever out of your room. I probably saw you, what, four times as a teenager?”

He smirked and added, “Besides, how would you even remember?”

I laughed, nodding. The truth was, younger me had always known exactly what the older, cute Matt was up to. I had even once asked Noah about him, pretending not to be curious. 

“Why’d you and your exes break up?” I asked quietly, trying not to sound too nosy.

Matt raised an eyebrow, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a curious little thing, huh?”

I instantly regretted asking. “Sorry, forget it—”

“No,” he cut in gently, still smiling. “It’s fine.”

He leaned back against the couch, eyes on the ceiling for a beat before answering. “Three of them just didn’t work out. No big drama— different paths, that kind of thing, and one of them cheated.”

My chest tightened a little. “Oh.”

Matt let out a short laugh at my quiet “oh,” clearly amused. “Yes—oh.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who would cheat on you?”

He shrugged, still grinning. “Her, apparently.”

“Well, that was stupid of her,” I said, crossing my arms.

Matt tilted his head, studying me with a smile that had just a hint of something more serious behind it. “I don’t know. That whole mess did end up with me meeting people. Especially you.”

I glanced over at him. “Me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Weirdly, I’m kinda glad it happened. It led me here.”

His words made my chest flutter, and for a moment, I couldn’t look away. “Well… then I guess I’ll thank her for screwing up.”

I hesitated, cheeks warming as I looked away for a moment, then back at him with a nervous smile. “I never thought this would happen.”

Matt tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath. “Like… I never thought you’d like me.”

He smirked, brushing a gentle kiss against the back of my hand. “You’ve thought about me liking you?” 

My heart raced, debating if I should get this small secret off my chest. 

 “Well… I guess I liked you when I was, like, thirteen.”

Matt blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. “You liked me when you were thirteen?”

Immediately, I wished I could take it back. My cheeks burned hotter as I fumbled over my words. Reflexively, I covered my face with my hands, but Matt gently pulled them away, revealing my flushed face.

“You’ve already confessed, sweetheart. No taking it back now.”

I rested my head against his chest, unable to meet his gaze.

Matt chuckled softly, leaning in with a teasing smile. “So, you had a crush on me, huh?”

I nodded slowly, still tucked against his chest. “Yeah,” I said softly, almost under my breath.

Matt let out a low laugh, still clearly amused. “I would’ve never guessed that,” he said, shaking his head.

“Really?” I tilted my face up slightly, still too shy to fully meet his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, voice warm. “You were so quiet back then. Always reserved. Barely ever left your room.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah… I didn’t. But I watched from afar.”

His brow lifted curiously, a smirk tugging at his lips. “From afar, huh?”

“Just a silly teenage crush,” I muttered with a shy smile.

Matt’s hand moved gently up and down my back, slow and soothing. “So what happened to that teenage crush?” he asked playfully. “You been into me this whole time—even when you were off in London?”

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, rolling my eyes. “No,” I said with a grin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Matt raised his hands defensively, laughing. “Okay, okay. I’m just asking.”

I smiled, leaning back against him. “It faded eventually—probably around the time you left for college. I think I was over it by the time I turned fifteen.”

“Right,” he said softly, and I felt him nod behind me—his voice carrying a mix of curiosity, a hint of hope, maybe even the faintest thread of disappointment.

There was a beat of silence between us.

“What?” I asked, my voice small, suddenly shy again.

He smiled, eyes fixed on me with a softness that made my cheeks warm.

“Nothing,” he said, a light laugh in his tone. “I just still can’t believe you liked me all that time ago.”

I didn’t say anything—just let out a quiet, breathy giggle, eyes dropping to my lap.

There was a short pause before he added, “So… what about now? Do you like me the same?”

I turned my head just enough to smile at him, my voice light but sincere. “It’s really fulfilling the delusional teenage girl in me.”

Matt laughed, his chest vibrating softly beneath me. “I apologize for not fulfilling your delusions earlier,” he teased, a grin tugging at his lips. “No offense, but back then… You were just Noah’s quiet little sister. I didn’t really see you as anything else.”

He paused for dramatic effect before adding with a smirk, “And even if I did—sweetheart, I wasn’t trying to commit a felony.”

I gasped, lightly smacking his chest as I sat up slightly. “Matt!”

He only laughed harder, pulling me right back down against him. “What? I’m just saying. You were like, what? Thirteen? I’m not a nasty creep.”

I shook my head, cheeks warm. “I know, I know. It was just a silly crush.”

He looked at me now, eyes softer. “It might’ve been silly then, but I don’t think it’s silly now.”

I blinked, heart stuttering. “No?”

Matt shook his head. 

“No. Not even a little.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his voice low and sure. “You’re not just Noah’s little sister anymore. You’re your own person now, a successful woman.”

I looked down, biting back a shy smile. “You know, this is very full-circle for me.”

He grinned. “Delusional dream fulfilled?”

I smiled softly, cheeks warm, and repeated, “Delusional dream fulfilled.”

Matt laughed under his breath, his fingers still gently brushing my jaw. “Glad I could make teenage you proud.”

I looked up at him, heart fluttering. “She’d be losing her mind right now.”

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. “What about the you right now?”

I hesitated, eyes searching his. “She’s still kind of losing her mind.”

Matt smirked, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. “Good.”

I let out a small laugh, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes. “Noah would lose his mind right now, too.”

Matt groaned, dropping his head back against the couch cushion. “Can we not talk about him?” He glanced back down at me. “Especially not when you’re literally all over me.”

I smiled, a bit guilty. “Sorry. It’s just… hard not to think about.” 

Moments later, we got up, making it into the guest bedroom. Both of us lay down. Matt had slept with me last night, it was normal, he stayed a good distance from me on the bed. I was comfortable. Matt makes me feel guarded. 

Tonight felt different, though. 

I felt Matt cup my cheek and make me face him. He leaned down and connected his lips with mine. Warm, familiar. 

Matt’s hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer, his lips pressing harder against mine. My heart raced, heat pooling low in my stomach. It was like every nerve was alive, every touch electric. 

It felt really good. Like really good. 

But the scene felt too familiar, so dark when it was with someone so soft. 

But something about it felt too familiar. The room was dim, the sheets tangled around us, his arms tight around me. I wasn’t trapped, not really—but my mind couldn’t separate safety from fear.

His hands moved lower, and I didn’t pull away. Then they tugged my waistband, and I didn’t pull away. However, then I felt his fingers lace on my underwear, and a sudden surge of panic hit me. My body stiffened, and I pulled away sharply, breaking the kiss. Like I’ve always done, recently. 

“Daphne?” His voice was soft but confused, searching.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady the sudden tightness in my chest. “I… I just need a minute.”

He frowned but didn’t let go. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He blinked, hurt flashing in his eyes. “You’re pulling away.”

I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell him what I’d been carrying inside me for years, but the words got caught, tangled with fear and shame. 

So instead, I snapped, “Can you just stop? You don’t get it.”

I regretted it immediately. His face hardened, shocked. “If I don’t get it, maybe you should tell me.”

I swallowed my panic, but the lump in my throat only grew. Haven’t I given enough?

“No,” I whispered. “I can’t.” 

His brow creased with frustration. “Why are you shutting me out?”

“I’m not,” I shot back, voice tighter than I wanted.

He let out a sharp laugh, half-scoffing. 

“No, you are. Every time things start getting serious, you pull away, Daphne. You shut down. You’ve been doing this the whole week”, he sighed, his voice calming down. “If you don’t want to have sex or anything, just say it. I’m not in this just for that. But when you pull away like this, it makes me feel like I’m pushing you to do so many things.”

I was trying to stay calm, but I couldn’t. 

I swallowed hard, anger and panic bubbling under my skin. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I snapped, moving away slightly. “You think it’s easy to just ‘say yes’ or ‘say no’?”

He came closer again, voice low but intense. “Then tell me what’s really going on. Don’t just push me away.”

I shook my head, my voice trembling, “You don’t get to decide when I’m ready, Matt. And right now, I’m not.”

He shook his head gently, his tone softening, “and that’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be ready.”

“I’m just… trying to make sense of all this,” he added, going to gently touch my shoulder. 

“Well, you won’t—” I cut him off, not letting his hand touch me, with a bitter scoff.

Matt’s eyes narrowed, the warmth fading from his expression. I could tell his mood shifted, as he was the one moving away, not. 

“Alright, what’s really going on, Daphne? This ain’t normal for you. Why are you acting this way?” 

The truth was, I didn’t even know; I knew damn well this wasn’t like me either. 

Why was I snapping at Matt? Matt was kind, soft, and calm. Matt, who’d never hurt me. 

“Just leave me alone, Matt.”

He sat up on the edge of the bed, tension tightening his jaw. After a moment, he stood and faced me.

“Alright,” he said quietly, but there was a firmness beneath his calm. “Listen, I don’t think this dating thing is going to work right now. You’re not ready, and that’s okay. I told you, I don’t care about the intimacy—but it’s clear something’s weighing on you.”

Without a word, he turned and left, the soft click of the door echoing in the silence he left behind.

I broke down—my sobs caught in my throat, more a strangled gasp than a cry.

Of course. I’d finally gotten a boyfriend, only to lose him on the very same day.

I curled up on the bed, tears slipping quietly but unceasingly down my cheeks. My chest felt unbearably heavy, weighed down by everything I wasn’t ready to say aloud. I’d lost Matt before I even truly had him.

In that quiet, suffocating moment, I realized just how alone I felt. How alone I’ve been feeling. 

I stared up at the ceiling through watery eyes, my chest still rising and falling unevenly. The ache wasn’t just in my heart—it was everywhere. In my ribs, in my throat, in the pit of my stomach.

I thought of Matt. His face when I pulled away. The confusion. The hurt. The way he tried—genuinely tried—to understand something I hadn’t given him the words for.

My fingers clenched the bedsheet as guilt twisted in me.

Maybe I should tell him. Maybe he deserved to know. 

He had been patient. Gentle. Never once pushed me too far, and I’d pushed him away without a single explanation. I’d left him in the dark, expecting him to understand a wound he couldn’t even see.

But how do you explain something like that? How do you say I pull away because someone taught my body to be afraid, not because of you?

I bit my lip, blinking hard against the tears again. Maybe he would look at me differently. Maybe he’d think I was broken. Maybe he’d tell get over it. 

Or maybe… he’d just hold me. The way he always does. The way I’ve never let anyone else.

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my sleeve and stood up, my knees unsteady beneath me. My chest still ached, but the weight of silence was worse.

I padded down the hallway and stopped at his door. My hand hovered before I finally knocked once, then again.

Nothing.

I swallowed, panic starting to crawl up my throat.

“Matt?” I called out softly. I knocked again, firmer this time. Still nothing.

My heart dropped.

What if he left? What if he meant it—that this wasn’t going to work? What if he left me alone here for the night? A shaky breath escaped me as I turned and started toward the living room, tears welling up again.

But then—through the dim glow of the apartment lights—I saw him.

He was on the balcony, hoodie on, elbows on the railing. His head was tilted back slightly, just standing there looking out into the night. Relief hit me like a wave.

I immediately regretted getting up. I can’t tell him. Not now. Not today. I don’t know if I’ll ever. 

Maybe I wasn’t built for love. 

Maybe all I can do is carry the weight and keep going. 

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[a/n: short chapter today. Like and reblog! and comment! i love reading your thoughts! mwah] –ceyana

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[g3ths3man3]

𓉸ྀི Linger 𓉸ྀི PART ONE

Roomie!Nick Folio x Fem!introvert!Bookworm!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Awkwardly avoiding your hot roommate after him walking in on you listening to your guilty pleasure was easy enough, you thought, until it wasn't. Not when you had all the same friends, and you were all in a cabin in the woods for Noah's birthday, and Nick shows up looking like said guilty pleasure.

!!!THIS PIECE IS PURE FICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, NOT YOUR THING TURN AWAY. BUT AGAIN IT'S JUST FICTION AND NOT HOW THESE PPL ARE IRL!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: swearing, recreational drug and alcohol use, awkward romcom moments, fluff, yearning.

A/n: hahah spooky season is upon us and I wrote this after I had insomnia for over 24 hours after the wildest week of having the flu a few weeks ago, and have been sitting on it debating if I wanted to post this. This could be a totally considered self-indulgent, maybe cringe, but oh well it's my digital footprint & I have to live with. But welcome to my first fic on this blog, and my first piece posted at least for the BO guys in general, had to show the cinnamon roll Folio love first. thank yewwww and enjoy

⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。°⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。

The universe had a painfully ironic sense of humor. Noah Sebastian and his friends, with their twisted embrace of clichés, unknowingly played right into its hands.

After years of running in the same circles, Noah had grown to resent sharing his birthday with Halloween—except for the rare occasions when he leaned into the theme completely. This year was one of those times. A slasher-themed party in a huge cabin in the woods for the weekend. Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d promised months ago to make all the baked goods—long before you knew the party theme—and that his closest friend and bandmate happened to be your roommate, you would’ve bailed. But you were a good friend, one who loved your friends and kept your word. Even if it meant enduring the mortification of being around Folio, said roommate, fighting the urge to disappear into the woods every time he glanced or came in your direction.

Because Folio knew your dirty little secret.

One you hadn’t even shared with your closest girlfriends. A secret you’d intended to bury in the deepest corners of your feral little brain—until Folio, of all people, unearthed it. He’d come home early from a fishing trip because of a storm and found you in your natural state of debauchery: high, sprawled on the couch, blasting a dark romance smut audiobook through the living room’s soundbar to a concerning decibel. To make matters worse, it was during the most graphic part, and not just any audiobook—this one had sound effects. And masks. And filthy, filthy things.

You’d nearly combusted when you saw him standing in the doorway for who knows how long, looking bemused, at you giggling and quietly squealling into a throw pillow. You scrambled to pause the audio, but of course, the universe wasn’t on your side, and your phone took its sweet time. Long enough for him to hear everything. 

It’s not like you were about to do anything. You weren’t physically aroused, just mortified that he now knew what you listened to when he wasn’t around. Mortified as if his living room had been christened by your smut. Mortified he probably assumed you touched yourself to it when he wasn’t there—or worse, that it was some deep, dark fantasy of yours. No that totally wasn’t your guilty conscience projecting or anything.

You’d only lived with Nick for four months. Four months of being around him more than you ever had since meeting him through mutual friends years ago. Before this, you could count on both hands the number of times you’d been alone together. Not that there wasn’t any issues with him, you just considered the two of you as polar opposites to think he’d actually want to be around you or you’d have enough in common to pass the basis of ‘acquaintance’ or ‘mutual friend’.

He was funny, the kind of guy who made your cheeks hurt from laughing at his corny jokes. He was charming, with that Southern hospitality that always seemed to melt your insides, and his country twang made you melt just that much more. You hated how easily he could make your social anxiety melt away at parties, offering you a hit of his joint or a cigarette and small conversation when he noticed you hadn’t your usual friends you clung to. Confident, magnetic, always ready to be rowdy, a through and through extrovert, everything you were not.

You were an extroverted introvert–at best. A pessimistic optimist. An awkward rain shower on a sunny day. The house cat who only craved attention when it suited you, having zoomies when no one was watching.

That’s exactly what the embarrassing night felt like—your version of a cat caught in a burst of energy when it thought no one was looking. Except Folio was looking. And all he did was give you that dopey smile, the one with the gleam in his dark chocolate eyes, and made some smart-ass remark before disappearing into his room.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around. Cute.”

As if he were the amused owner, catching his pet in the act.

He never brought it up again, but you both knew. And it gnawed at you. Maybe you were again projecting and he hadn’t thought much of it, but still!

And now, of all the costumes in the world, famous slashers, any other character from a horror movie, or crashed out and went with a basic t-shirt in the same vein of the theme of the party. No. He had chosen to wear a Ghostface mask. You, meanwhile, were dressed as a cheesy, slutty Casey Becker from Scream. It wasn’t planned. You’d done your best to avoid him the last two weeks, conveniently ever since the theme had been known to you. Quick hellos and goodbyes, or hasty exchanges with those days.

But tonight, at the party, there was no escaping him. Between leaving early before he even woke, helping with decorations, and playing the mom friend throughout the night for your own friends, you made yourself scarce. Dodging him became an art form. Until, of course, he cornered you.

You were about to refill Matt’s drink when Nick approached, his Ghostface mask pulled up. He tossed Matt’s empty cup, and handed you a cup of red jungle juice (with gummies shaped like body parts floating the mix of fruit of course), his hand casually settling on the small of your back, guiding you wordlessly toward the quieter part of the yard by the small shed by the brush of woods. The touch sent an unexpected chill through you, even though you tried to ignore it. You turned to protest, but he tapped his ear, signaling the blunt tucked behind it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath, and let him lead you to the shed. As much as you weren’t ready to talk to him, you hadn’t taken a break all night, and the excuse to get away from the crowd and babysit your friends was tempting. Your social battery ticking away faster than anticipated.

“Didn’t realize you were such a great party planner,” he said, leaning against the shed as he lit the blunt, his eyes catching under the faint glow of the solar lights.

You shrugged, struggling to keep your voice casual as your heart raced and cheeks warmed. His presence was overwhelming, making you hyper-aware of everything—the slight brush of his fingers when he passed you the blunt, the way his lips curled when he smiled. Even the music felt like it was conspiring against you, with Deftones' haunting melodies filling the background, stirring things inside you that you wished would stay buried.

“It was a group effort,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes to avoid his gaze. The warmth of his hand on your back lingered, leaving you unsettled in ways you weren’t prepared for. But when you glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. I’m just here to boost morale and be the life of the party,” he chuckled, though the sound felt a little forced. As if he was trying just as hard as you to keep things light, keep things normal. 

He passed the blunt back, and you took a hit, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about that night too. It had been weeks, but it still felt raw in the fiber of your being, especially now with the tension hanging between you.

“And I know half of these ideas were your asshole suggestions, after searching kid halloween party on Pinterest.” He added, smirking. “But they love it. Noah loves it.”

You smiled despite yourself, taking another hit quickly to hide it, the warmth of his compliment stirring something soft in your chest. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I worry my trolling gets taken a little too seriously.”

“They thrive off it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. He gestured for you to keep the blunt, taking a swig of his drink instead. “All for you, bub. Roomie blunt.”

The nickname hit you harder than you wanted to admit, a surge of affection mixing with the ever-present tension. His voice, low and soft, carried a weight that made it feel more intimate than it should have. You swallowed, trying to push the feeling down. Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“Matching costumes and now roomie blunts?” You teased, though your voice sounded breathier than you intended. “Are we hitting new roommate milestones?”

He laughed, but it was quieter this time, almost shy. “Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” He said almost apologetically, there was still an edge of smugness maybe arrogance. “I tried to wear a t-shirt with just Michael and Freddy on it, but Jolly told me to ‘piss off and I wasn’t wearing that to our best friend’s birthday party.’ Drove me to a Spirit before we picked Noah up, it was like the only thing left close to the theme.” He explained. “I didn’t even have a plain black shirt. Had to flip this inside out.”

“Oh Jolly said ‘fuck you thought’ for real.” You giggled, the effect of the cannabis hitting you as you rubbed the rough inseam on his shoulder that you failed to notice when he walked in tonight. It was comical and relieving to know this wasn't a jab at you now, and just a half-ass last minute idea--typical Folio fashion.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” he pointed a finger up. Balancing the cup rim between his teeth, his drink splashing on himself as he pulled his t-shirt up exposing his torso as he clumsily tugged his shirt toward you to see a print of Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger holding hands in a meadow.

Through puffs of smoke, you full out cackled, now holding his shoulder for support. “What? Did you think you were too tough to dress up for Nowah’s birthday party?” Mustering your best baby voice in between your wheezing, the tension breaking for a moment. But even as you laughed, your eyes lingered on him a second too long. On the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his dark ochre eyes seemed to trace your every movement, as if he were studying you, waiting for something. But then he pulled the mask down, breaking the easiness of the moment.

He smoothed his shirt down, mocking your laugh. “The fuck am I gonna do with this after?” 

Well…

Even with his shirt inside out, with alcohol spills staining it, and ash from your blunt speckling his clothes, the look did things to you--he looked good. The mask, the way he carried himself, all of it stirred something deeper. Your mind flashed back to that audiobook, to the night he caught you—and suddenly, the faceless man from the story wasn’t faceless anymore. It was Nick. It had always been Nick, lurking in the corners of your thoughts, even when you tried to deny it for several months before. You had buried the attraction you felt towards him well enough, denying that maybe your harmless crush was something more. Letting the term roommates be your boundary for him, not wanting to make an arrangement of living with an attractive acquaintance that you had festering feelings for even more awkward.

Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. And even though your mind screamed at you to say something, to make a joke, you were too caught up in the moment—the way his presence pressed into yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like static.

You handed the blunt back, your fingers brushing a second too long with his, the touch jolting something within you. “I’m sure you can find other uses for it, Bub,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost like a promise.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand lingered near yours, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he was waiting for something—waiting for you to break the silence. The air between you felt heavy, charged, like the moment could tip in any direction. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath coming a little too fast. You were standing so close now, the night’s sounds fading into the background. 

Your lips parted, wanting to say something, anything—but the words caught in your throat. Maybe this was your chance. Maybe you could make sure things weren’t as weird as you imagined it to be. Or maybe you could take that small step forward, close the gap between you, and see where it led.

But instead, you took a step back. 

“Thanks for the morale boost! Gonna go beg Ruffilo to play something less whiny and horny now!”

The moment stretched, taut and unspoken, as you turned away, nerves rattling inside you. You felt him watching you as you sauntered off, the weight of his gaze burning into your back, the unspoken tension still thick in the air.

Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!

But as you walked away, your heart still pounding, you knew the moment between you wasn’t over. Not really. It lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. And you couldn’t help but wonder if next time, you’d have the courage to step into it.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched your denim skirt ride up slightly with each step you took away. He swallowed hard, the familiar pang of frustration settling in his chest. Admiring you from afar had become second nature to him, an unspoken routine he’d never quite managed to shake.

You perplexed him, right down to his core.

Every time he felt he was getting closer to understanding you, to unraveling the mystery of what made you so magnetic—you were gone. Slipping through his fingers just as quickly as you’d come into focus.

It had been that way since Matt and your friend first introduced you all those years ago. At first, he found your quietness cute—a stark contrast to the loud energy of your other friends. But as you started coming around more, he saw there was so much more beneath the surface. The dry wit, the easy charm you showed only to those closest to you, the way you seemed to light up in the right company. And then there was the obvious—he had been attracted to you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

But the more you intrigued him, the further away you seemed to drift, casting him aside without even realizing it. It gnawed at him, deeper than he liked to admit. Nick Folio wasn’t used to this—he could get anyone to open up, to be themselves around him with little effort. But you? You were a challenge he couldn’t crack, and it was driving him crazy.

It baffled him how Matt had convinced you to be roommates in the first place. Living together hadn’t helped his case at all—if anything, it made things worse. Since the moment he’d walked in on you listening to your smut audiobook, he could feel the shift, how you’d started shutting him out. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you avoided him now, keeping your distance, as though that moment had broken some invisible line between you.

But it hadn’t, not for him. If anything, he loved that glimpse of who you were outside the parties and hangouts. Seeing you comfortable, in your own space, high out of your mind, letting your guard down enough to geek out over something you clearly enjoyed.

Did you think it made him see you differently? Did you think that knowing your private little quirks would change how he felt?

If anything, it made perfect sense. A girl like you, attractive, smart, with a mind that clearly wandered far beyond the surface—you were bound to have something like that. Hell, now he understood why your nose was always buried in your Kindle. He’d probably be the same way if he had something that compelling.

He had hoped the blunt he’d offered earlier would serve as an olive branch, something to ease the tension between you. But now, watching you skitter away, retreating from him again, he wasn’t so sure.

“There’s the kingpin,” Noah grinned lazily, coming up beside him clapping him on the shoulder as Matt trailed behind.

Nick tried to muster a smile, but it was clear something was weighing on him, his usual carefree demeanor dulled by the conflict that tugged at him deep inside.

“What’s wrong Folio?” Matt was the first to ask.

“Nothing, just clearing my mind a bit.” He lied.

“Yeah, okay.” Noah snorted, trying to tug the mask on top of his head down. He was clearly tipsy, enjoying himself. “If you don’t want to talk about it, whatever—but I know what will really help clear your mind.” The lazy grin turned sinister.

The drummer merely raised his eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“Manhunt—slasher style.”

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Would it really be a slasher-themed birthday party if Noah hadn’t forced the remaining guests into a game of manhunt, despite how dark it was and how most people were borderline drunk? No, only Noah would think this was still a good idea. You didn’t mind, though. It distracted you from your exchange with Nick—finding hiding spots, giggling quietly, getting chased, and chasing your friends around. It felt cathartic, especially in your tipsy, cross-faded state.

Noah was too far gone to establish real ground rules anyway. The only rule was that nobody hid past the brush of the woods, and he was always the seeker. Brush, cabin, shed, backyard—fair game for your large group of friends. It was the third and final round now, and most of you were out of breath, legs aching, too close to rolling an ankle in the dark. The adrenaline was wearing thin, and the nostalgia for childhood games had run its course. You were all gonna feel the aftermath of this in the morning.

“Once you're found, head to the fire pit, pop a squat, and call it quits for the LOVE of god,” Matt groaned, hands on his hips, out of breath.

With all the cabin’s lights off, the vast space was hard to navigate. Maybe calling it a cabin was underselling it. This was a huge luxury lodge, a weekend splurge to comfortably fit the group with several bedrooms and rooms to hide in. You’d found a bedroom on the second floor at the end of the hall, away from everyone else, deciding to hide alone instead of pairing up like some of the others. You didn’t want to change your spot like you had the other two rounds you played outside. This was it, and you’d let whoever come to you to find you.

You weren’t sure who’d claimed the room earlier in the night when everyone arrived, but it didn’t matter now. The large bed in the center had ample space underneath for you to squeeze under. The bed skirt fell perfectly, hiding you completely as you curled up, knees pressed against your chest, mouth against the sleeve of your knitted sweater to stifle any sound.

Your heart pounded as you heard the seekers stomping clumsily through the halls, doors creaking open, followed by screeches of defeat from your friends as they were found. Finally, Noah and Davis's triumphant laughter echoed through the house, growing distant as they led the captured outside.

For a moment, you thought you were safe. You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing slightly. The steady thrum of your heartbeat began to slow, and you debated slipping out the back door to claim victory, imagining the disappointed faces of Noah, Davis, and the rest when you emerged triumphant telling them to suck it.

But then you heard it—a single set of footsteps at the end of the hall. You froze. Your pulse roared in your ears as a familiar laugh echoed down the corridor.

“You guys suck at this game!” Nick’s voice rang out, smug and teasing. Faint bickering followed from outside, Noah and Davis shouting back that they were done, ready to drink by the fire.

Nick scoffed. “Fuckin’ amateurs didn’t even check my room. There’s still people hiding!”

You tensed, silently praying, Please, don’t be in his room. Please, don’t let this be his room.

But your luck had run out. You heard the door handle turn with an agonizing slowness, the door creaking open.

“Bryan, I swear, if you’re making out with your girlfriend in my room instead of hiding—” Nick’s voice trailed off as he stepped inside. You could hear his confusion as he scanned the seemingly empty room. It was his room, of course. The one place you’d somehow ended up hiding.

You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest as he walked around. His footsteps were soft, deliberate. The room was dark, but you could see the faint glow of his phone’s flashlight as he swept it around, peeking under the desk, inside drawers—absurd places no one could possibly fit.

You started to hope he might give up. His footsteps retreated toward the door, and you exhaled softly, relaxing ever so slightly, your body tense from being curled up so tightly.

But then you heard the closet door swing open with a creak. “Got you!” he shouted abruptly, his voice playful. You jumped, your head hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud. You bit down harder on your sleeve to stifle any sound, praying he hadn’t noticed.

The door closed again, and there was a long silence. Then his voice dropped lower, a teasing edge creeping into it.

“I knew there was a little mouse in here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock, blood rushing to your face. No way. Was it just coincidence? Or had he somehow found out—about the pet names in your books, about your... tastes? Did he find your Goodreads somehow?! You screwed your eyes shut tighter, wishing you could disappear.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out from under the bed. You shrieked as you tumbled out, blinking into the blinding light of Nick’s phone. He was doubled over, laughing, thankfully with no Ghostface mask on.

“Where the hell did you get that from?!” you demanded, fed up, voice hushed but furious.

He was still chuckling, genuinely confused. “Get what from?”

“‘Little mouse?’” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest since he discarded his shirt after the first round. “What the hell is that?”

He raised his hands in surrender, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know! It just seemed fitting.”

“You didn’t snoop through my bookshelf?” you accused, heart racing for entirely different reasons now.

His brow furrowed. “Why would I go through your bookshelf? Where’s this coming from?”

“You know where!”

“I don’t, though!” His voice softened, growing more serious. “You really think I would go through your stuff?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t know... you caught me listening to my smut—”

Nick had the audacity to huff a laugh, and it sent your blood boiling all over again.

“It’s not funny, Nick!” You glared at him, horrified by how quickly this night was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.

“It’s not,” he agreed, but his grin remained. “But it kind of is. Because that just confirmed everything I thought.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “What did you think?”

“That you got weird about me seeing you... be yourself.”

You scoffed. “I did not.” You did.

He said your name quietly, and it made you look at him, caught by the softness in his voice. “I don’t care that you were geeking out over some dirty audiobook. I thought it was cute.”

“I was not.” Your face burned. “And it’s not cute.”

“What would you call it then? Fangirling?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms tighter. “No.”

Nick exhaled, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m not trying to make this a thing. Relax, okay?”

But relaxing was impossible with him standing there, shirtless, casual like he hadn’t just crawled into your head. He was so nonchalant, while you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Finally, he turned on the lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he gestured to the bed. “Can we sit? I’m not trying to argue, and my legs are tired.”

You stared at him, defiant for a moment longer, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolled the desk chair up to you, knees nearly brushing, close enough that the warmth of his skin made the air between you thrum.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he teased, his voice low.

“I’m not a brat,” you muttered, looking down at your lap, “I’m just... embarrassed.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy, until Nick broke it with a sigh. “I said the wrong thing. But I called it cute because... let’s face it, I know you, but I don’t *know* you.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, his face softer now. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite name.

“I could say the same,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m a simple guy.” Chortling to himself. “Half my body shows almost all my special interests.” He gestured to his tattoos, the ones you’d seen countless times but never really looked at until now, trying to avoid finding yet another reason to be drawn to him. “You? You’re a mystery to me. I’ve known you for years, and lived with you for months, but I’ve never seen you just... let your guard down. Sure, in rare passing moments that I wished I could see more of, because I love seeing you light up when you talk.”

Your heart twisted at his words, warmth creeping up your chest, but before you could respond, he added, teasing, “Now I know you’re the quiet girl who secretly geeks out over porn—”

“Nick!” You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands, the heat on your cheeks unbearable.

Nick laughed softly, tugging your hands away from your face, his grip warm and grounding as his thumbs traced gentle patterns over your knuckles. "Relax, relax, it's our secret," he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender.

Your heart raced, pulse quickening as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His laughter faded into a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged, like you were both standing at the edge of something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

"I like it... that we have a secret just between us," he confessed, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react.

His words hung in the air, and you froze for a beat, the weight of them sinking in and nearly taking your breath away. When you looked up at him, his brown eyes-usually playful-were filled with something deeper.

There was a warmth there, an affection that made your stomach flip as you watched him nervously lick his lips.

Your face felt hot, and you weren't used to being in such an intimate moment with him, your hands still held in his. But despite the closeness, you weren't uncomfortable. If anything, you realized how close the two of you actually were when his eyes dropped to your lips, and your pulse fluttered even faster.

When he started to lean in, your body moved instinctively, meeting him halfway. His lips brushed against yours-soft, tentative, and a little chapped from the night's activities, but sweeter than you could have imagined. The faint taste of jungle juice lingered on both your mouths, and his hands stayed gently on yours, as if he was afraid to push further.

Hesitant, like he thought you'd pull away any second.

But you didn't want to run this time.

The kiss, as surprising as it was, had a way of grounding you-settling the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in your mind.

You found yourself pulling your hands free from his and sliding one up to the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing the buzzed part of his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, gently tugging him closer. Your touch seemed to ease his hesitation, and he responded with a firmer grip on your waist, his hands warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

The tension of the past weeks, all the uncertainty and confusion, melted away in his touch. His lips fit perfectly against yours, and as he grew more confident, the kiss became less restrained, his hand gripping your waist tighter as he gently guided you back onto the mattress. You both smiled into the kiss, the weight of his body pressing down on you, though he propped an arm by your head to keep from crushing you entirely.

In that moment, with the world outside fading away, you were in a kind of bliss you hadn't felt in so long. The feel of his lips, his warmth, the way his tongue softly brushed against yours-it was all-consuming, and you could have stayed there all night, wrapped up in him.

"Did Y/N kill you, Nick?!" Noah's drunken laughter rang through the wooden door, followed by the sound of Davis and one of your friends giggling along with him. The sudden intrusion startled you both, and you froze, your breath catching as the door handle rattled.

Nick groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from you, the absence of his touch making you ache in a way you hadn't expected. You quickly sat up, trying to smooth your hair and fix your sweater, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced over at him. He, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, walking casually to the desk to grab the half-smoked blunt from earlier before making his way to the door.

"We were just deciding if we wanted to finish this," Nick said coolly, holding up the blunt as he opened the door, playing it off like the two of you hadn't been making out just moments ago. His calm demeanor caught you off guard, while you were sure guilt was written all over your face-your hair messy, your cheeks still warm, and your sweater slightly askew as much as you made yourself presentable.

Your friend peered over Nick's shoulder with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Without us? How rude. You're now officially obligated to share-let's go."

Nick shot you a sheepish smile before offering his hand, extending it toward you as the others started to head back down the hall, unaware of what had just transpired between the two of you.

You hesitated for a second, your heart still racing, before taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. The moment might have been interrupted, but the charged energy between you was far from gone.

The universe did have a painfully sick sense of humor after all.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

A/n: pls lmk your thoughts as writing this I had so many ideas of how I wanted this to go, and the ending was weaker than intended but this is what I got after being up for over 24 hours 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I will be writing a part two 👹

[concreteangel92]

The Angel Of The Night

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: smut, PiV, oral (female receiving) praise kink, slight obsessive/stalker elements (this is based off of the ghost of the opera house himself 🤣) talks of the death of loved ones, dark romance, I’m pretty sure that’s it

So this has been in the works since August when I watched the phantom of the opera in Greece on my first night there haha I’ve always loved this show (west end and film!) and I even have a tattoo dedicated to it so it was a no brainer to me that Noah would fit perfectly into this aesthetic!

The mask (especially the new one!!) the glove, his voice all mixed with an old theatre and gothic aesthetic and atmosphere? Hell fucking yes!!

Remember that this is an inspired fic so you’ll see familiar names, themes, etc but it’s not the actual whole story! But if you’re a fan of the soundtrack, you may recognise a few lyrics here and there 🤭

I hope you all enjoy it, it’s a long one so grab yourself a cuppa and I’ll see you on the next fic. Also please let me know your thoughts!! I’d love to know what you all think as this is definitely the longest I’ve ever spent writing one story haha let me know, you can always message me anonymously if you’re shy 🖤

Tags: @triedbimsoblu333 @I00na24 @iluvmewwwww75 @veronicaphoenix @tosoundlessdarkistare @specialstay @dsireland86 @philomenie @clingylittlebun-blog @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lilcrazy011

Masterlist

You’d been with your theatre company since you were a child, having lost your parents at a young age, the opera house is all you have ever really known.

You loved it here, the old theatre was your home. You knew every wing like the back of your hand, every creaky floorboard backstage, how the orchestra pit echoed when no one was in it, you knew the creepiest parts that no one like to venture into. You loved it all, it was your sanctuary.

There was something about the theatre that made you feel at peace, standing up on the stage in front of a huge audience, hearing their cheers and cries that made your heart swell. The heat of the spotlights, the magic you felt as you danced to beat of the live music, everything about it made you feel so alive.

The year was 1870 in Paris and you were currently playing the leading role in the current opera ‘Hannibal’

It was your debut as the leading lady and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

You walked quietly around the empty stalls of the theatre, taking in its musky smell, the beautiful architecture of the building and the huge crystal chandelier that hung high above your head. You ran your fingers across the old red velvet on the chair in front of you and sat yourself down in one of the seats near the pit.

The stage was empty but you could hear the hustle and bustle backstage of the cast and crew getting everything ready for opening night tonight, although there was still hours to go, there was still much more that needed to be set up.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously in your lap, taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but speak aloud softly.

“Please….please let tonight go well”

You kept your eyes closed as you leant back in the chair, allowing a moment for yourself to process the evening that you knew lay ahead. You were certain you had been alone….until you heard his voice.

From high up above your head, in the gods, you heard his beautiful, ethereal voice humming down to you.

With a small gasp, you opened your eyes and looked up into darkness, and there amongst the ropes and pulleys of the backdrops and lights, you saw his silhouette and instantly a small smile appeared on your lips.

“There you are”

Your words were barely a whisper, your angel of music was right there with you. You should have known he wouldn’t be far away.

“Y/N what are you doing down there? You need to get ready for tonight!”

You tore your eyes away from your mysterious friend and saw your teacher/guardian Madame Giry standing in the wings on stage left.

“Yes Madame”

You casted up eyes up once more to the heavens to see that he was gone, like a ghost who was never there in the first place.

•••••

He was nicknamed the ‘Opera Ghost’

No one in the theatre ever questioned that box 5 was always left empty so no customer could use it, people ignored the eerie echoes of his angelic singing that seemed to come from no where all around the old building. No one had ever seen him fully, only catching glimpses of his shadow in the night.

No one, but you.

You were the only person to have had any interaction with the ghost. He had started visiting you when you were a child, you were 8 years old when your parents had met their tragic end and you were fated to the theatre. It wasn’t long after that you started to hear his voice in the night.

It started off with just singing, he comforted you when you were crying yourself to sleep, not having come to terms with the loss of your parents and the change that was about to happen within your life. You had felt so alone, you hardly knew anyone within the company, the only reason you came to be here was because Madame Giry was a close friend to your mother and she had agreed to take you in when they died.

But in those long, lonely first nights and weeks, his beautiful voice helped you drift off to sleep.

As the years went on, the beautiful voice became deeper and he started to talk to you quietly from within the walls, the mirror, you never knew exactly where he was but you always knew he was there.

In recent years, he had been singing your songs with you, helping you train your soprano skills, a patient teacher and a loyal companion is what you knew him to be.

Although you knew people had dubbed him the ‘opera ghost’ you felt that wasn’t a suitable title for this angelic creature so you called him your very own ‘angel of the night’ which was a nickname you often heard him whispering back to you.

Your angel wasn’t just a teacher to you anymore, he had become a friend. You told him all your hopes, dreams and your darkest fears. You’d talk to him until you heard the faint sound of the birds chirping and saw the first rays of the morning sun rising over the horizon through your window.

He would still sing you to sleep on the nights you struggled, when the past traumas returned in the forms of nightmares, he was always there to help take your fears away.

His voice was like nothing you had ever heard before. He sounded almost like a siren calling out to his awaiting victims and just like one, you felt the pull within your soul every time he called.

Tonight was the opening night, your big debut, but that wasn’t the only reason for your nerves. You knew he’d be there, watching from box 5, hidden within the shadows, but always there.

“Will he be impressed? Will I be everything he hoped for?”

These thoughts plagued your mind as you walked down the corridor, your heels clicking with every step, until you reached your dressing room/living quarters.

You wrapped your hand around the old doorknob and turned it so your door swung open with a creak.

In front of you was your dressing room, your bedroom was through the door at the back of the room, the walls were a beautiful shade of red, almost matching the seats in the theatre stalls out front. There were beautiful paintings in gold frames on the walls of your favourite artwork, a huge mirror that took up one wall, a rail of costumes and props lined another, you had your changing screen next to that and then you also had your beautiful make up vanity, surrounded by candles and all your make up and jewellery that was laid out for you on the counter.

But what caught your attention was the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, roses of the darkest red lay across your chair with a hand written piece of paper on top.

You walked over and picked up your present, inhaling their beautiful scent while you read the note.

‘To my beautiful angel’

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you knew it was him, he had left you a good luck token in preparation for tonight.

You felt your nerve’s ease, you knew you could do this, as you knew your angel would be watching over you.

•••••

The sounds of a standing ovation, loud cheers and clapping filled your ears as you took your final bow, flowers of all kinds being thrown onto the stage around your feet.

The show had gone without a hitch, your solo performance had been an absolute triumph that brought the audience to their feet. Throughout the production you had tried glancing up at box 5, hoping to see a glimpse of him but of course, nothing. Just the sight of the curtains moving gently when it was take to take the bows, almost like they had been caught in the non existent breeze.

Your vision was blocked completely as the main house curtain fell to the stage, muffling out the sounds of the audience still cheering from the other side.

You felt yourself being embraced by your fellow cast and crew members, all congratulating you on your performance.

“That what incredible!”

“Bravo!”

“Y/N you were sensational!”

You felt your cheeks go warm at all the compliments, the adrenaline still fully pumping through your body as you tried to catch your breath.

You thanked everyone and helped pick up the flowers littered across the stage to take back to your dressing room.

“He was there, I know he was! I wonder if he liked it?”

You felt butterflies start in your stomach at the thought, you would never want to disappoint him, you craved to know how he felt. You couldn’t wait to get back to your room.

You once again gave everyone your thanks and made your leave, half jogging down the corridors behind the theatre.

Once you entered your room, you put down all your flowers, taking note of even more bouquets that had been sent here from different admirers that were now spread around and all the lanterns and candles were burning beautifully, giving the room a beautiful golden glow.

You walked behind your changing screen and started to remove your heavy dress, a costume you were relieved to be out of, finally feeling like you could breathe normally once the corset was gone. You settled for a simple white lace dress that fell to floor. You removed all the pins from your hair and allowed it to cascade down your back. You were about to remove the make up on your face when you heard a knock at your door.

You called out for them to enter and you looked up into your mirror and saw Madame Giry standing there with another body behind her.

“Sorry to disturb you Y/N but there is someone who would like to meet you?”

You turned around and glanced behind and saw a handsome young man standing almost nervously on the spot with his top hat in his hands. He had short dark hair, was an average height and was wearing a formal dinner suit fit for the theatre.

You nodded and Madame Giry stepped aside so he could walk forward.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you”

You smiled politely, stood and offered your hand for him to grasp in his own as he bowed his head gently.

“My name is Henry Edwards. Do excuse my intuition miss, I was just so captivated by your performance that I wanted to give my congratulations in person. I’ve actually seen many performances here at this theatre but tonight was by far the best I have ever seen”

You smiled wider at his words, his face definitely looking more familiar now that he’s mentioned he’d been here before. You’d often seen him admiring your dancing in previous productions.

“Thank you Mr Edwards, you are too kind”

“If I was to be so bold Miss Y/N, I would love to be able to discuss your performance further, perhaps over tea or a stroll around the park?”

You were taken back by his proposal, not used to men being so forward with you or even desiring you at all really.

“Oh erm…yes, I…I think that would be a lovely idea”

You panicked, you knew you weren’t particularly interested in the man in front of you but what harm was there to be courted for an afternoon.

Henry looked very pleased as he fumbled over a thank you, his next words were lost on you as you suddenly felt a presence within the room, the presence of someone who wasn’t happy at all.

You turned your head to the big mirror behind you and watched as a few of the near by candles flickered angrily before going out completely, leaving nothing but whips of smoke behind.

“Mine”

The word was whispered so low and dragged out that it almost sounded like the wind, but you knew better, the realisation sending chills down your spine.

You turned back and caught Madame Giry’s gaze, it was as shocked as your own, she knew.

“Well Mr Edwards, I’m sorry but that will be all for tonight, Miss Y/L/N is extremely tired and needs to rest her voice. Come back in a couple days to arrange this meeting?”

Madame had already started pulling gently on his arm and gesturing for him to leave, he looked baffled at first but soon composed himself.

“Oh erm…yes, yes, of course. Goodnight Miss Y/L/N and I’ll pop by in a few days?”

You nodded with a forced smile as you watched as he slipped his top hat back upon his head and walked out of the room, Madame Giry giving you one last look before shutting the door behind her, the sound echoing through the empty room.

But you knew you were far from alone.

You turned around to face the mirror, staring at your own reflection, the sound of his quiet humming started once more and you felt pulled towards the mirror.

Almost like you were in a trance, you stepped forward, your eyes glued to your own reflection until you noticed another pair of eyes staring back at you from over your shoulder.

You should have been afraid, you should have called out for help, but you didn’t.

Dark almond eyes gazed back into your own, his face becoming more clearer the closer you got. But it wasn’t his whole face you saw. It was covered by half of a white mask, almost like he was trying to hide his true identity.

You stood frozen in place as your angel came fully into view, it was like he’d appeared from the mirror itself, like he truly was a mystical creature from another world.

His song was hypnotising, the melody causing your head to feel so light and airy, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looked up in your dream like state to see him standing in front of you.

You reached your hand out without a thought and was met with a hard, firm chest, your angel was truly here.

Taking in his appearance, he was even more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. He was tall, extremely tall and towered over your small frame and was just as broad in his chest and back. You could see he had shiny, brown hair that was falling down to his neck, it looked so soft that you felt the urge to run your fingers through it.

Your angel was wearing a black suit with a long black cloak over the top and of course the half mask, you had never wanted to remove something so much in your life, his face was absolutely perfect, why would he hide? His eyes appeared darker now he was in front of you, he had the most intense stare that you’d ever seen, it was like he could see into your very soul and read your every thought.

The last thing you took note of was his tattoos that were peaking out over his collar and on his right hand, his other being covered with a black leather glove. It was unusual to see a man around these parts that had tattoos, you’d never seen any before.

He moved around your body slowly, his hands running up through the air next to your arms, not touching but still your skin felt like it had been set alight. As his hands came up near your face, he gestured for you to look ahead.

“Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside. I am your angel of music”

You inhaled deeply as you took in the sight of him standing directly behind you, his whole presence was consuming you.

His face suddenly looked angry as he whispered his next words.

“Insolent boy. Does your young suitor really think that he can take what’s mine?”

You turned to face him, the thought of your angel being angry with you was too much to bare.

“Angel my soul is weak, forgive me! Yours is the only one that calls me”

He stood staring down into your eyes, like he was trying to find a lie but he would find none. You knew your heart belonged to him, it always had.

“Hide no longer from me”

Your words were hardly audible but you knew he’d heard. No words were given in return, all you could hear the was sounds of his beautiful song again as it’s filled your mind. He walked back around your body and backed himself up towards the mirror, that was when he held out his hand to you, you took it without hesitation.

Your head light as a feather, you followed him willingly, you hardly paid attention to where you were going or how you got there, all that mattered was that you were with him. His siren song never once stopping as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors heading down to the catacombs beneath the city.

The walls were lined with candles, all lit up, the air was damp and cold against your skin.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Your beautiful angel in front of you, he could have been leading you to the pits of hell and you wouldn’t have cared. He kept looking back at you every so often, as if to make sure you hadn’t vanished.

Coming up to the waters edge, you noticed a small boat ready, he stepped into it first and one again extended his hand out, you took it and stepped into the boat after him.

The foggy feeling never left, you felt so free, so light, like nothing could touch you ever again. It was almost like you’d become a spirit of another realm, not of this earth but not quite moved onto the next.

You continued to listen to his voice, just as he always had done, he soothed away any of your fears. You took note of all the burning candles, the way the water lapped up the sides and casted a beautiful rippling reflection up on the walls.

As you rowed further into the catacombs, you saw your destination. This could only be his home.

It was breathtaking, even more candles lit the area and it was living space in the middle of the caves. Artwork, statues and musical instruments of all kinds surrounded you. And roses, dark red roses everywhere.

You closed your eyes as you felt the inner peace of contentment washed over you, you couldn’t describe it any other way, it was like you were in a dream.

The sound of his voice gently stopped as he got out of the boat and you stood to follow, allowing him to place his hands on your waist and lift you easily onto the floor.

You started to turn your head around to take in your surroundings but you felt his fingers grasp your chin gently but firm and pulled your face back to meet his.

You tilted your head and glanced down at his lips, wondering if he would lean down into you.

Gazing up into his face, you really took in his features, he was absolutely perfect. Your eyes wandered to the mask and your hand reached up slowly to push it off of him before you even truly thought of your actions.

Your hand was stopped by his gripping onto your wrist sharply and tightly, his eyes first the first time showing any sort of vulnerability as he shook his head slightly.

“Why do you hide from me angel?”

He brought your hand back down gently and took a deep breath.

“Because I would repulse you, you’d run from me”

You brought your free hand up and held onto his cheek, the pads of your fingers gently caressing his smooth skin.

“I could never, you’re my guide, my guardian…my friend”

His eyes soften at your words, you watched the candles fire reflecting and dancing deep within his irises as you waited for his response.

Your angel stood slightly straighter, he let go of your hand and he reached up until the base of the mask was between his fingertips. He hesitated for a moment before he ducked his head down and slid the mask off, his hair falling back into place as it was removed.

When he looked back up, the sight that greeted you was a shock. The whole right side of his face and into his scalp was burnt and had deep scaring. You would have believed it to be painful but it was clear to see that these were not fresh wounds.

You gasped quietly but you didn’t recoil. Instead you raised your hand and held the right side of his neck gently and leaned up and kissed his jagged skin softly, not missing the low moan it pulled from his throat as you did.

“Those that have seen your face draw back in fear. I do not”

“I do not frighten you little one?”

You shook your head and continued to gently stroke his scars.

“Never. Please tell me angel, do you have a name?”

“Noah”

His name left your lips in a whisper, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him. It was a beautiful name that was well suited to the man before you.

His hand came up to brush your hair from your face, you couldn’t help but softy sing his own song back to him, not missing how his eyes darken.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams”

Your eyes fell shut, the next feeling was his lips upon yours, gently moving with you.

It was electric, both of his hands came up to cradle your neck, holding close as he pressed his body into yours.

Pulling away, his hands slowly wandered down your body, your breathing was starting to quicken within your chest.

“Trust me?”

You nodded without hesitation, your eyes never leaving his. Noah then picked you up bridal style and carried you over to a huge king size bed that was covered in red sheets and was surrounded by a black lace canopy.

He set you down onto your feet and moved behind you to start undoing the ties on the back of your dress, letting his fingers trace the skin beneath as he did.

“Where does your soul long to be?”

You turned to face him, your dress loose over your shoulders.

“With you, I belong to you, I have always belonged to you”

He lowered his head down to you and once again captured your lips between his own, this time more passionate than before. Noah slipped his hands into the fabric at the top of your dress and continued to slide it off your shoulders as he moved his head down to start ghosting kisses along your collar bone.

You moved your hands into his hair and finally felt how soft it really was, it was like silk moving between your fingers.

You felt your dress starting to fall off of you, fully aware that your top half was completely bare underneath. You felt the material pool around your feet and his hands settled onto your hips as he continued to kiss and gently bite your skin, moving further down.

Your stomach was starting to tighten, the feeling that was washing over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he started to moved his head lower and gently sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, feeling his warm tongue flicking over the harden bud while his hand came up to caress the other, rolling that nipple between his fingers.

You tried to hold back the noises that your body wanted to make, feeling self conscious of how you must have sounded, something Noah seemed to pick up on easily.

“Savour each sensation my little angel, let me hear you, let your darker side give in to me”

You watched as Noah stood tall and removed the cloak from his shoulders and his jacket and carelessly let them fall to the ground, he then moved you back until your legs hit the bed and he guided you down onto the plush mattress and your body sank into the pillows, his body following yours swiftly after.

You felt his hands running up your bare legs up to your underwear, toying with the waistband teasingly before pulling them off slowly, he was clearly savouring every noise or squirm your body was making under his touch.

“You’re mine my little angel, you belong to me”

You nodded, unable to form any words due to the feeling of him ghosting his lips across your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart slowly.

“Say it”

“I’ve always been yours Noah”

The sound of his name felt so right, he had always been there and you had always been his.

Noah used his hands to push your legs further apart, opening you up for him. A low groan came from deep within his chest as he leant down and licked one slow, long strip up your centre, the feeling sending shock waves through your body and your back to arch off the mattress.

You felt his fingers move to your outer lips to part them gently so he could flick his tongue inside, loving tasting you for the first time.

The sensations that were flooding your body was nothing short of pure ecstasy, Noah continued to eat you out slowly and let his thumb move upward so he could start rubbing firm circles against your clit.

“Oh my….Noah, please!”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, your body felt alive, your stomach was twisting beautifully and your hands found themselves running through his hair, pushing him closer into your centre.

The pleasure that you felt was overwhelming, your thighs were starting to shake, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t stop the cries that left your mouth.

Noah didn’t stop, he moved his fingers faster and continued to devour you until your legs squeezed around his head and the breath was pulled from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you and you felt like you were floating and falling all at the same time.

Once you started to come back down, you saw that Noah had stripped himself of the rest of his clothes and was settling himself down in between your legs. The sight of how many tattoos he truly had was astonishing.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you around me my little dove”

Noah reached down and gripped himself and ran his head along your folds, your wetness gathering onto him, before he slowly pushed his hips forward, the feeling of him stretching you open was almost sinful.

Your head fell back into the pillows and his head fell into your neck as he growled from the feeling of you. Your hands came and found themselves wrapped around his arms as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re perfect…it’s like you were made for me”

Your cheeks became warm at his words, his praise making your core throb with need.

Noah started moving his hips against yours, it was a torturously slow and deep pace that caused you to feel every inch of him against your walls, your body instantly reacting to his movements.

“You feel incredible around me angel, fuck…you’re so fucking perfect. My perfect little angel”

You moaned loudly, his words mixed with his deep thrusts was intoxicating, your heart was swimming with so many emotions, you never wanted this moment to end.

You reached your hand up and placed it onto his scared skin, wanting to show him that he was beautiful in your eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started to thrust harder, a layer of sweat had now coated both of your bodies and the room echoed with the sounds of your cries and skin slapping onto skin.

“Noah…I..I feel…”

You couldn’t finish your words, you didn’t need to, Noah knew you were near your end. His hips moved faster, the motion pressing your body into the mattress as your nails dug into the skin on his back as your body wound itself up tighter.

“Cum for me, I want to feel you”

Noah’s own hips started to falter as your body was suddenly convulsing underneath his and you screamed out his name, you squeezed your eyes shut as you rode out the waves of your high, feeling Noah’s release deep inside of you as he groaned loudly into your shoulder.

You felt Noah kiss your skin softly as he slipped himself out, the loss leaving you feeling so empty. He brought you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he was frightened you’d leave.

“Stay with me?”

You looked up with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Forever”

Noah smiled back and he pulled the covers over your naked bodies and he started to hum his song once again, the song that you’d known since you were young.

It was beautiful, it was haunting but most of all, it was comforting. You snuggled into his side and allowed your angel of music to sing you into a beautiful, deep sleep.

[human-being-on-earth]

im srry but noah schnapp liking a post about loverslakegate then deactivating his account like no more than 24 hours after tells me everything i need to know about byler endgame

i did think that theyd kiss in the UD version of lovers gate, but since the UD doesnt have water (which raises questions about how Will survived in the UD with the Demogorgon chasing after him, without food or water, but thats besides the point) and the two actors shown to have been wet in some way (i will try to find photos), i think it'll be in the regular Lovers Lake now.

ok i couldnt find noah's but istg he posted this one thing where his hair was damp (its killing me i cant find it)

(also, with the photo i did find, everyone but Mike [and maybe Will and Joyce] were dry)

[honeytama]

Nocturne

Merman!Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you love Merman!Noah as much as I do. If you knew me on here during quarantine, guess what? I'm back to writing about men with two dicks! ...sigh

Summary: Okinawa Island is just south of mainland Japan and it's where you're spending the few days of your vacation away from reality. You're on the search for fun, excitement, newness, and love. It so happens that someone else is, too.

Content and Warnings: Fluff, comfort, alcohol/intoxication, injury/blood, smut 18+, merman!noah has two phalluses, oral (receiving), raw pnv

Word Count: 12k

Tags: @somebodyels3 @yarasdead @raspberrywatermelon @gh0stfacegf @shilohrosechicken

@thefallennightmare @lma1986

Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka were beautiful places you spent the past week in, but Okinawa, an island just south of the mainland of Japan, will be your home for the next few days as your one-woman vacation is nearly to its end. Okinawa’s horizon is gorgeous; all the eye can see of crisp, blue waters and green cliff sides. Excitement buzzes through you as you approach the beachside condo in the driver's seat of the rental car from the Naha Airport. 

Last week, you spent all your time in different hotels while traveling to different parts of the country, only staying a day or two at a time in a new bed, but this time, you splurged to stay in an Airbnb on the island's coast. You figured that after spending a lot of time being a tourist on the mainland and being safe with your decisions, you could have a chance to be more relaxed before you had to return home— and return to work. You feel more confident after spending a week in the larger cities; you’re able to speak the little Japanese you know and English, you have found all the foods you like and how to order them, and navigating yourself was becoming easier. This place could become a second home, you think.

Walking through the front door of the condo, you’re able to see right through past the kitchen and living room to the back of the house’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Your backyard is the ocean. However, the building was built on a cliff, so you would have to find a more safe way to reach the soft sands that call you below.

It’s morning, so you figure it’s time to find your favorite Japanese breakfast items and spend the day exploring. On the itinerary, especially, is to figure out how to get down to the beach. 

—

You spent the day eating a few meals around town. You decided not to take the car out, so you walked for the majority of the day finding things to do.

Looking for entertainment for the beach, you found a comfortable bookstore and walked around for an hour scouring for something to read. They had everything you could need in different Japanese writing systems and also plenty of options in English. You found a couple of romance novels, both spicy and sweet love stories, that would help amuse you as you lie on the sands tomorrow. 

Love was the reason you were in Japan, to begin with. Besides always wanting to be in the country, you desperately needed time off from reality. You felt stuck while at home, but you have found, and hope to find more of, fun, excitement, and newness. However, love is something you’re still reaching for—in more ways than one. Before arriving in Japan, you had hoped that some beautiful man would come to sweep you off your feet and take you away from everything you’re hiding from. This just hasn't come true just yet.

While you were perusing at the bookstore earlier in the day, another tourist was speaking to the cashier about some rumors while you peeked at them from behind a shelf. Their conversation made your ears perk up.

“Ningyo,” the woman cashier repeated.

“Ningyo? What did you say that was?” The tourist opened Google on their phone looking for more information, intrigued.

“A mermaid— well ours is a merman,” the cashier corrects herself. “The word directly translates to ‘fish-person’. It’s what me and my sisters have been talking about around town with others for the past few years,” she explained. “We think he’s out there still; we can hear him sing at night. Can’t you?”

“Wow, uhm, I’m staying at a hotel further away from the coast, so no, I haven't heard anything. But, that’s amazing!” The tourist exclaimed. “Do you know what a siren is? Do you think he’s dangerous?”

The cashier giggled and gave the tourist their receipt. “There have not been any reports of people going missing or being injured, so I assume our mystery merman is safe,” she shrugs. “I’ve never seen him, to be frank, all of this is just rumors— a legend. But, you should go out to the beach at night to hear his voice. You won't be disappointed.”

You laugh to yourself about their conversation on your hike back to the condo during this late afternoon. A mermaid? Merman? Please. There is probably some wannabe boyband guy in the neighborhood who likes to practice his music on the beach at night. 

You are surprised that it has been going on for so long though. Wouldn't this guy want others to know that it’s him? That he’s the guy with the amazing voice everyone in town is talking about? You think to yourself.

On your way back to your temporary home, you stumble across a part of the town that’s less busy than the rest. You imagine you had taken the wrong way back, but you swear you’re great at navigating yourself now. There’s no way you could have made a mistake while you're holding Google Maps open on your phone watching every step and counting the minutes it takes before you get back to the door of the Airbnb.

Nevertheless, you’re not lost, just somewhere you didn't expect. With no one around to help, you take a step off of the road to walk over to the railed cliff’s edge to regain your surroundings and reroute toward the correct direction.

Looking over the railing, you admire the teal waters crashing against a group of large slate rocks along the beach that form seafoam that sizzles along the sand. You notice the cliff is quite steep and wraps around a small portion of the beach below you. The edges of it are lined with moss and fern-covered rock walls and green, lively trees for shade. It’s a cove; a private one. The sands look so smooth and on a perfect, warm, sunny day like this, you were sure it should have been packed. You spot a trail that leads down to it when you look up to your right. You found your way down to the beach, you think.

—

The next morning you awake and walk around your apartment eating onigiri. You pack up all your favorite beach essentials, excluding an umbrella, because you hoped the tall trees you spotted at the cove would be enough to protect you. While packing, you hum a tune to yourself, and taking a slow bite from your food you realize you have never heard the song before. You must have made it up in your sleep, you think.

You had pinned the location of the cove in your phone and followed directions back to where you were yesterday afternoon, hoping not to get lost again. 

Once on the familiar cliff again, you take the trail and snake yourself down to the bottom, carefully, which leads you out into your own, personal paradise. A private cove for you to spend the next few days relaxing in.

You make haste to set up everything and to start enjoying your books. A wide beach towel is laid out onto the soft, pale sands. You feel the sand between your toes and fingers; it’s perfect. You set up your Bluetooth speaker and roll up an extra beach towel to use as a pillow. Lying back with your sunglasses on and in your favorite swimsuit, the trees cover just enough to where the sun can leak through and tan your body, but not enough to where you are blinded as you open your first book.

You relax for a couple of hours reading your story and listening to music. You’re relieved you brought water and snacks, too, unbelieving you would get this comfortable. As you turn your music down to change it over to a podcast while you eat, you hear a loud splash come from the water before you. 

Looking up quickly, having been startled by the noise, you spot a large, dark tailfin ducking back under the water behind one of the large, pointed rocks.

“Oh, shit,” the sight makes you sit up on your towel. You pull your sunglasses off hoping to catch a good look at the fin if the animal were to return to the surface. “That thing was huge,” you whisper to yourself. Although you have become familiar with a lot while on your vacation, this was the first time you have been close to Japanese waters, so you have no clue about the types of fish or other things that could be lurking in the shallows. 

On your way out of the cove, you take one last peak at the water. It’s almost still with just the tide coming in to layer over the sand, but you could have sworn you could feel someone’s eyes watching you the entire time and not from the top of the cliff. You feel it coming from the direction of the ocean.

—

“I need to hear it, too,” you thought drunkenly as your feet dragged you back to the cove’s entrance.

Earlier in the night, you thought to indulge yourself in a night of drinks, mingling, and dancing. You went out to a couple of bars in town in a white, frilled spaghetti strap dress that hits you mid-thigh and a pair of platform, strappy sandals. You danced freely with some sweet groups of women you found at each bar; your hands caressed your own curves and you moved your hips to the beat around you. Your spirit caught the eye of many different men, from all backgrounds, who were hitting on you throughout the night and feeding you drinks constantly.

It felt good. Their attention is what you wanted, and you flirted with them back; making small conversations and touching their biceps and shoulders to show you’re interested. Maybe one of them could be the one? You thought. I can find love here. However, too many drinks being pushed your way eventually turned you off to them and they were turned off by how you stumbled out of the bar to walk home.

Walking back to the condo, you come across the same road you were lost on. You look over the railing above your private cove and the waters are dark; they crash against the sands and boulders off to the side of the beach.

“I wanna swim,” you speak aloud. “No, that’s dangerous,” you shake your head. “I’ll just— stand in the water. Feel nice,” you mumble.

You think about the woman who you overheard speak at the bookstore. The ningyo. His alluring voice that sings through the night.

“That’s not real,” you giggle to yourself. “Well, I could prove it her wrong. I just need to see if I can hear him. Need to hear him,” you repeat as your sandals pull you away from the rail.

You stumble over to the cove’s trail entrance and carefully make your way down to the sands, just as you did this morning.

Once below, you undo your sandals from your feet and take your purse to throw them all into a pile of sand. You make your way to the edge of the water and step in the deep blue inch by inch until you can no longer see your ankles. 

“Sing, please,” you wave your arms at the water like it will talk back to you. You start to hum the song that riddled your brain when you awoke in the morning while kicking the water up with your feet. “Ningyo, if you dont start singing right now then I’m leaving,” you yell out to the obscured horizon. 

The ocean stays silent. 

“Fine.”

You take a few steps back toward the shore, but the high tide is so heavy on your legs that it’s difficult to move in the direction you would like. You end up moving at a diagonal towards the jagged rocks that you feared; salt water splashes against them violently. You stick your hands out to brace yourself, but a large tidal wave knocks you off your feet and your head finds the rocks first.

You yelp before falling into the water. Your face is fully submerged as you look up at the moon through the salt water in your eyes. Watching your eyelids close slowly, everything fades to black.

NOAH’S POV

Where’d she go? I think to myself with heavy concern.

I’ve been looking after this girl for the past day and never once did I expect her to be injured while on my watch. I was amused at how she called out to me and I feel ashamed for watching her stumble into the rocks after leaving because I wouldn’t sing. I should have just indulged her instead of teasing her. If I did, then maybe she wouldn’t be lost under the waves. 

I swim towards the rocks with purpose and see her floating there face up. She looks limp.

“Please be alive,” I whisper as I take her body into my arms. I hold my ear to her chest for the sound of her heartbeat and it thumps in my head. Relieved, I allow myself to take a deep breath of air and allow my own heart rate to die down. I swim the best I can through the shallow water with her in my arms until we reach the shore.

I lay her down on the sand and fix her dress so that she’s fully covered. The huge gash in her forehead makes me wince and deep, red blood seeps out of it unhindered.

As her lips begin to turn blue, I realize I need to work faster. I raise my right hand over her lips and twist my fingers as if I’m going to pull a rope from between them. Instead, a stream of saltwater is pulled from out of her lungs and through her open mouth until it forms a sphere above her head. I flick my hand to the side and the water bubble splashes into the sand around us. The tingle from my magic use covers my arms and shoulders in goosebumps.

I need to see her chest rise and fall again. She needs air, I think. Raising myself over her, I pinch her nose with my fingers and bring my mouth to hers. I push the thoughts about her soft lips pressing to mine and blow air into her chest. It rises against mine as her lungs fill up, so I continue to suck in air and blow into her mouth and when she begins to cough, I know to pull back. 

The girl lies there still, unconscious. My hand brings itself to cover the gash on her head in full and I put in energy to allow my magic to flow into her, to heal her. The stream of her blood stops, and I can feel her skin closing under my palm.

My head falls in relief that she’ll be okay and my wet bangs tickle her cheek.

Uncovering her head, there’s just a faint scar above her eye that will fade even more, over time. I roll over to the side and lie on my back next to her. I can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen, even with her hair tousled, clothes soaked, and eyes softly closed. Well, maybe those things make her even more appealing.

I’ve been close to very few humans in my life, but I swear she’s the only one that has ever truly intrigued me like this. 

I have wanted to know her since she stepped foot into my cove this morning. I think she’s already seen my tail, but I want her to know all of me, too.

“I’ll meet you in the morning,” I whisper.

—

READER

You sit up with a gasp.

“Ah, shit,” you mumble and shade your eyes from the sun rising over the horizon. 

While adjusting your eyes to the brightening blue sky and reflective teal waters, you notice an array of colors lying on the sand in your peripheral. Artwork? Your eyes fully adjust and the sight of a Japanese traditionally tattooed arm moves next to your thighs. 

“Oh, my God!” You yelp and push yourself further back on the sand with your hands and feet. You look down and see the same white dress you wore out to the bars last night. What happened? You think.

Looking up slowly, you see that there wasn't just a severed, tattooed arm mere inches from your body, but a whole man. A man with a tail.

The ningyo, you think. The merman is on the beach with me.

You cover your mouth with the thought that it will muffle your quick, anxious breathing; you didn't want him to know you were awake for many reasons, but mainly you were curious about him and needed time to examine his form.

Crawling on your knees toward him, you notice not just his arm is tattooed, but his entire human-like skin. His neck, torso, arms, and you assume his back, too are covered in Japanese traditional tattoos. The artwork of koi fish, waves, scales, and clouds all meld together in black, gray, and vibrant accent colors throughout his body. How does he have tattoos? You wonder.

It’s saddening that you can see his face; he has his forearm thrown over it. You assume it’s to shield from the sun’s rays as he sleeps soundly. The outside of his forearms have dark, feather-like fins. They look so soft; you want to reach out and touch them. His hair is short with bangs that shape his temples from what you can see. His wrist and neck are adorned with jewelry made from stringed, tiny pearlescent shells. Looking around his chest and sides, you see no gills.

Trailing your eyes further down, his tail begins a few inches under his navel and it’s the most brilliant thing you’ve ever seen. His tail is long and it's halfway in the saltwater; you assume if he were standing he would be over six feet tall. The majority of his scales are slate, almost black, and would probably look like obsidian underwater. They have a shimmering shift under the light of the sun that makes them look wet, even when dry. These same scales go all the way down to his tailfin and the ends of his tailfin feather out just like his forearm fins. However, along his hip, he has a strip of pearl-colored scales that run down the length of his tail. You assume he has the same strip on his other hip, as well.

Overall, you are aware of your heart pounding in your chest. The cashier from the bookstore was right… There is a merman living in the waters of Okinawa. He’s gorgeous, too.

“Ah,” you hiss as you sit on your heels next to him. You feel a raging, throbbing pain in your head. Feeling over your forehead, there’s a light ridge under your fingertips in the form of a scar. Looking down at the man, you think that he must know why you’re at the cove this early in the morning in the clothes you wore the night before. Taking a deep breath, you tap his shoulder, curiously, hoping to wake him. “Ningyo.”

He stirs awake and removes his arm from his eyes. You watch him slowly sitting up on his elbows. “Hmm,” he groans while squinting to adjust his eyes to the morning.

“H—Hi,” you speak up and wave at him to get his attention. 

The merman twists his head towards your direction and your eyes meet. Beautiful maple eyes widen at yours. “Oh,” he says, blinking as if to check if you’re real. “Hi… You're awake.”

“Mhm,” you hum and fiddle with the end of your dress. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Y/N.”

“I’m Noah,” he extends his hand for you to shake. You reach out to him and his hand engulfs yours. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss into the back of your hand. Must be a tradition for him, you think, blushing.

He smiles at you in awe with his teeth. You notice one of his lower canines is covered with a shiny, pearlized coating and it gleams at you sultrily. 

“Could you tell me why I’m here, please?” You feel comfortable, but your voice speaks nervously. Your fingers come back to your head as the pain pulses beneath your skin.

He looks out onto the horizon and his tail moves under the water as he thinks. “You came here by yourself last night. I think you might have been intoxicated,” he explains. You feel heat rush over your cheeks in embarrassment. “I watched you fall into the rocks over there,” he nods across the beach to your right. “You got a bad head wound and you drowned.”

“I drowned?” You ask incredulously while holding your chest.

“It’s ok. I pulled you out of the water and brought you here,” he motions his hand from the rocks to where you are now and his forearm fins fan out. “I hope you don’t mind— I had to use some magic on you or I might have lost you,” he says. “I spent the night looking after you to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you,” you nod at him with a grateful smile. He does nothing to hide himself, and you realize he must have stayed overnight with you to see you in the morning. The thought of him watching over you makes you flush.

“Also—,” Noah’s face turns pink and he looks away from you with a smile. “I had to resuscitate you. It’s called mouth-to-mouth, right?” 

Oh. You feel your hands turn clammy, so you rub them on the front of your dress. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry, by the way.”

Noah flips over to his side and rests his cheek in his hand. His tail follows suit and his movement flows the water toward you in a small wave that pools at your knees. He looks at you concerned with furrowed brows. “Why would you say you’re sorry?”

“Well, for one, you shouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble to save my life last night. I was being stupid. I don’t know why I came here,” you talk towards the blue horizon. “Second, you were right. I was drinking. I’m sorry that you might have tasted it on…” you bring a hand to motion towards your lips. “Or that you had to put your mouth on mine, at all,” you turn and laugh at him half-heartedly, but his face looks even more confused than before.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah says assertively. “I needed to save your life. You needed help and I was here to do that. Also, don’t be embarrassed about your actions… You looked cute yelling at me to sing to you.”

Yelling at him to sing to you? What was I thinking? You think. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you smile and shrug your shoulders.

Almost immediately, he replies, “Spend the day with me.”

“What? You don’t even know me,” you giggle. “Also, what do you mean? You want me to sit here on the beach with you until the evening comes around again?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I want to know you,” Noah says matter-of-factly. “We could do that, but I don’t like staying on land for more than half the day. I was thinking we could hang out in the water?” He nods towards the ocean.

“Ok, yeah, we can go swimming,” you nod. “I don't think I’ll be able to go too far though.”

“I have something in mind that can help,” he says with a smirk. “If you would feel more comfortable, then go home and change into your swimming gear and meet back here in an hour… It’s a date.”

A date? You’re going on a date with a merman after just meeting him? Out of all of the men you have met on your trip, he’s the only one who’s made the move for something romantic. And, your swimming gear? Ha! More like one of the skimpy swimsuits you had brought on your trip, you think.

“Okay,” you stand up to your feet and Noah looks up at you with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “I’ll be back soon,” you begin to walk towards the sand pile you threw your things onto the night before, before turning back to him. “Don’t you dare disappear on me, Noah.”

He laughs and pushes himself further into the water; his biceps flex under the weight of himself, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

You pick up your bag and sandals and watch Noah dive further into the water. The splash of his dark tail leaves a spray of sparking droplets in the dawn sun.

—

It’s still morning time, but you have returned to the cove having eaten breakfast with your beach bag sitting in the sand. You changed into your favorite swimsuit, which in your opinion seems just fine for a date and swim session with a merman. No big deal. 

While at the condo, you quickly paced around trying to change your clothes and locate everything you needed while simultaneously forming a hundred questions about Noah. All the while, having to deal with a racing heart and jitters as the merman you met less than two hours ago asked you out on a date— rather he declared it a date. That’s so much hotter, you think. Calming yourself, you thought that today would be the best opportunity to ask him everything that you wanted to know. 

How does he have so many tattoos? Did tattoo guns work underwater?

The most pressing question on your mind is asking him about his song. It must be the one you keep hearing in your dreams.

You see Noah’s head rise over the water in front of you and he stops ten feet away from the shore. “You came!”

“Noah!” Leaving your things behind, you walk into the water and slowly adjust to the new temperature. You make your way to him, having to step off of the coast’s shelf. You swim in place in front of Noah while the seafloor is probably over twelve feet beneath you at this point. “I’m not that confident that I’ll be able to keep up with you,” you admit.

“I told you I had a trick to help you out, didn’t I?” Noah reaches out towards your neck and caresses the soft skin. It tingles underneath his touch. He then brings his hand to the side of your face and his thumb pad rubs over your bottom lip.

Is he about to kiss—? Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a tight sensation in your throat. “Noah, what are you—,” you croak.

“Shh,” Noah soothingly hushes you as he passes his thumbs over your eyes. “It’s okay. Come under the water with me. I’ve got you.”

You plug your nose and close your eyes as you shove yourself under the surface of the water. A foot under the surface Noah makes sure his presence is known by keeping a soothing hand on your hip. His voice speaks out to you through the water, startling you.

“What you’re feeling is your body coming to balance with the new abilities I’ve given you. Whenever you’re ready open your eyes and breathe. It’ll feel just like it does when you're on land… I promise you,” his fingers graze lightly over your skin, calming you.

His confidence in you gives you enough bravery to open one eye. He’s holding you so close and a grin grows on his face when he sees you slowly open up. You open your other eye after realizing you dont get the usual sting from the saltwater from having them open underwater for too long. It feels normal. Your eyes widen at Noah when your chest starts to burn from the absence of air. Feeling anxious, you lose the ability to control the wading of your arms and legs and begin to sink.

“Take one breath. It’ll be okay,” Noah pulls you against his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist. “Remember if you drown, I’m right here. I’ll save your life every day if I need to,” he whispers. 

Nodding vigorously at his words, you quickly suck in and blow out. A burst of bubbles spews from your mouth, but you feel fine— better now that you’re letting oxygen into your lungs.

“I can breathe under—,” You stop mid-sentence realizing you can hear yourself, too. 

Noah throws his head back and laughs; his hair flows through the water with his movement, “I just need to give you better swimming ability and we’ll be ready to go.” He lets go of your waist and dives towards your bare legs. He places his hands around your ankles and they feel the same tingly sensation as before. “Alright, let’s go,” Noah holds out a hand for you to take.

“Where are we going?” You ask while hesitantly taking his hand in yours. Noah begins to swim with you by his side and you’re able to kick your legs fast enough to meet his pace. 

“I’m going to show you around,” he smiles.

—

After a few hours of talking and swimming through Okinawa’s waters, you’ve gotten to do things you never imagined. Noah took you through the colorful reefs that are home to sea turtles and colorful fish, coral, and sea anemones, he brought you to meet a family of dolphins and you both held onto their dorsal fins swimming through the water, and you talked about where he lived and he promised he would show you soon. 

Right now, you follow closely behind him as he leads you along the sandy floor through a forest of seaweed that are as tall as trees back home. The sun glows through the ripples of the surface sending rays of light that adorn Noah’s skin. 

He stops at a wall of seaweed and smiles back at you before using his hands to spread apart the stalks. It opens up to a clearing in the forest with golden sands that sparkle under the high sun. In the middle of the clearing is a large, deep green blanket and as you swim closer to it you see it's woven from fibers of seaweed and other plants.

“I have nothing for you to eat, but I did set up this blanket for us while you were getting ready this morning,” he gives a sheepish smile as if he’s sorry he couldn’t give you more. “Kind of like a picnic.”

Taking a seat on the woven blanket, you run your fingers through the material. While it’s made of seaweed, its fibers feel satisfying to the touch and you can poke your fingers through each stitch. 

Noah rests beside you, lying back and supporting himself with his hands. He closes his eyes and basks in the midday sun that rains on you two.

“Can I ask you some questions?” You ask him curiously. “Like, about you being ningyo?”

“I was wondering when I was going to be interviewed,” he nods. “Ask me anything.” He still rests with his eyes closed, but his ears are open.

“Ok, so—,” you stop, realizing there’s an overwhelming number of things you could ask first. “You like to sing?”

He smiles, amused by your question. “Mhm,” he hums and opens his eyes to meet yours. “When I saved you last night, it seems like you know one of my songs.”

“So it is your song! It’s been stuck in my head. I think the place I’m staying is just close enough to your cove that I can hear you while I sleep,” you explain. “And it’s your song? Noah, does every ningyo sing?”

“My friends and I, that’s what we do. We make music, and I’ll usually write the lyrics. Not every ningyo sings, but we all have our own special talents,” he explains. Whenever he touches on the topics most close to him, you can feel his pride radiate off of him.

You start to hum the notes you’ve had in your head, by the time his voice reaches your condo you can’t hear words, just a mumbled tune. “Hmm, what are the lyrics to the one you’ve been practicing the past couple of nights?”

“The song is called ‘The Grey’. The part you’ve heard…,” he hums to himself and tilts his head back and forth trying to find the words. 

“Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call

Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.”

“You should sing it,” you lean and nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t usually have a problem when it comes to practicing around my friends, and we do live performances too, but something about you makes me shy,” he admits. A tinge of a blush dances in his cheeks and nose. “You’re just gonna have to listen to the ningyo like everyone else.”

“Or, you can bring me to one of your live shows?” You ask excitedly.

Noah giggles and shakes his head, amused by your excitement. “You’re invited any time.”

Too bad I’ll only be here one more day, you think to yourself. “How much do you know about humans?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Oh, well, my best friend is human,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it’s not the most surprising thing you’ve heard him say all day. “So, I know a lot… Maybe, too much.”

A tinge of jealousy strikes your chest. Another human in his life that isn’t you. Someone found him before you did, you think. 

As if Noah is reading your mind, he smirks. “I met Nicholas when we were kids… He stumbled across my cove the same way you did and I was more brave with him than you because I introduced myself immediately. He’s my family,” he smiles and then gestures, holding up his wrist, “He’s also my tattoo artist. He has a portable machine and setup that he brings to the beach for when we have sessions.”

“You beat me to ask you about those next,” you smile with relief. “He’s been keeping your secret all these years?”

“Yeah,” he laughs but it sounds like a scoff. “Well, he was, but in the last few years since I’ve started to sing more he was the one that started a rumor about the ‘ningyo’. He says his neighbors love it. A lady who runs a bookstore and her sisters?” Noah breaks out into a fit of laughter and it tickles you to join him. 

“She’s the reason I knew about you,” you giggle pleasantly. 

“I’m glad my existence is entertaining,” he calms himself and reaches out to rest a hand on your thigh.

You gaze into his eyes for a beat before braving to ask, “So, do you have any other human friends I should know about?”

He smiles. “I don’t. My other friends are all like me,” he assures. “I would love for you to meet them, but for right now I just want to keep you all to myself. I hope that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” you scooch closer towards him until your knees are against the smooth scales of this tail. Noah is cold-blooded, but he still gives you goosebumps of warmth whenever he’s so close to touching you. “I have one more question to ask.”

“Go ahead,” he caresses up and down your thigh softly.

“Am I the first human girl you’ve taken on one of these dates?” You ask cautiously.

“You are the first girl I’ve brought into the ocean in general,” he admits. “Besides the cove and where I live, this is my sanctuary. It means a lot for me to share it with you.”

While you want to seem relaxed about his response, you still let out a relieved breath. He chuckles and leans into your shoulder.

“To be honest, you’re the only girl I’ve been intrigued with in a long time. When I first saw you come down the cliff and relax on the sand with a book in your hand, I knew you might be the one for me,” he smiles. “This clearing is where I read all of my books.”

“You have books in the ocean?” Your eyes widen at him and you tug on his bicep excitedly.

“Mhm,” his face glows each time you’re enamored by every new piece of information he shares about life below the surface. “I have a library at home. We have shelves, too,” he teases.

“Now, you have to show me,” you whine. “Please.”

“I’ll bring you home before you have to leave Japan,” his lips graze your shoulder with a kiss. “I’ve always wanted to find someone like you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. “I think you’re exactly who I was meant to find, too.”

His dark eyes match yours and a grin grows on his lips. These words are the only ones he’s wanted to hear come out of your mouth since the moment he laid eyes on you. 

“Noah, I’m not just in Japan to relax,” you begin to explain. “Home isn’t perfect as what I’ve found here. I’ve been searching for something new… Someone to love,” your gaze pulls away from him and you stare at the glistening sands of the clearing. “I want someone who will want me,” you pause but don’t dare look up to see his reaction. “I feel so stuck and ignored where I’m from. In my family, at work, every place that I should feel recognized and appreciated… It feels like I’m nothing.” you admit. A ghost of a hand tightens over your heart and squeezes. It hurts to talk about, but even with him, a stranger, it feels right.

“I’m not perfect,” he furrows his brow and runs a hand through his hair. “But, I can give you all of me if you let me.” Noah’s chest tightens too; he can’t bear the sight of your glossy eyes staring back at him so lonely. “I think I’ve felt similarly to you… I’ve been so bored of life. While I love to perform, I’ve felt so burnt out and in need of something new. It’s why I’ve been singing on my own at night; I’m trying to find what makes me feel excited again. I think you’re exactly who I need,” he explains. “I’m so sorry you feel that way about home. I would never make you feel inadequate,” Noah brushes a piece of hair being your hair. “I wish you could stay here with me.”

In Noah’s mind, he recounts the rumors under the sea of how you could stay. He’s been wanting to grant Ruffilo the same privileges, so everyone he loves can be with him at the same time. Noah chooses not to mention it, knowing that it could get both of your hopes up.

“I hate that I have to catch a flight soon,” you say softly. Allowing your feelings to come out as your next words, you whisper, “I don't want to fly away from you.”

You find yourself leaning into him while anticipating if he’ll reciprocate your movements. Your eyes switch between watching his own and his lips; his tongue darts out to lick his before leaning into you slowly.

He leans into you fully, but merely presses his forehead into yours. With his eyes shut tight, he huffs defeatedly, “I want to kiss you so badly, but you need to know that if I do… Something in me won't be able to let go of you.”

You pull away and attach your lips to his neck. He hums under the heat of your mouth and teeth on his jugular. Speaking into his ear you urge him to go forward, “I want it. Whatever it is. I need someone to hold onto me… Like I told you, it’s why I’m here.”

He leans back to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? No matter how I feel…I can’t just take you away from where you’re really from. You need to go home soon.”

Heat builds up in your cheeks and your eyes begin to well up, you bite your lip but allow your heavy emotions to come through your voice, “I would rather be with you, even for a few days more, than to have to return to the life I already know.” His eyes watch you intently, looking for confirmation that you’re telling your whole truth. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I want to know that I tried. I want to love again, Noah.”

His eyes widen in surprise. You would give up everything you knew for him, and he’s starting to realize that. “C’mere,” he brings his hands to your cheeks.

You eagerly pull yourself to your knees. “Please, kiss me,” you whisper while leaning into him once more. Noah pulls you into him and your lips meet him under the afternoon sunlight. “Mmm,” you hum under the soft press of his lips. You feel a pull from your chest towards him growing, almost supernaturally. It feels as if a string is reaching from your chest towards his heart to tie you two together. The golden glow you feel under your skin entices you to pull Noah in closer by tangling your fingers in the back of his hair and holding him by his cheek.

Noah hums and his hands leave your face to roam freely over your exposed skin. Through his passionate kiss, you feel his fingers grazing over your neck, shoulders, and lower towards your thighs. He doesn’t fight you when your tongue presses against his supple lips for entrance. He melds into you comfortably and allows his tongue to explore your mouth, as well.

You believe you’ll never get used to the tingly sensation he brings to you when he touches your skin, whether using magic or not. Being in this secluded clearing and having access to his cove, he has made you feel like the only girl in the world. With him, you sit in the eye of a hurricane and get to watch the world spin by without care if everything will be okay because you know it will be. Noah makes you feel safe and needed; he makes you know that your existence is important and he wants to be a part of it.

As you pull away from his kiss, the smile on his face and his pearled tooth make you melt in his arms.

Giddy in his grasp, you bite your lip, “Why do I feel like something is pulling me into you?” Pointing to the center spot between your breasts, “I feel like I could never lose you.”

“You won’t,” Noah assures. “Come to my place tomorrow night,” he pulls you to lie down on his chest on his blanket. You plan to spend the day away in his arms looking up a the rays of light dripping through the waves above you. “I’ll tell you then.”

—

After going home from your day with Noah, sleeping, and spending the majority of the next day away from him and the sea, you could still feel the same pull on him that you felt when you first kissed him. It felt as if the invisible string that grew from your chest was tethered to him even miles away at your Airbnb. Even when you close your eyes, you know the exact cardinal direction he is at any time. To your surprise, it didn't bother you one bit, because for once you didn't feel alone, and knowing he had the same tie to you, he was looking after where you were, as well.

It’s evening time and Noah planned for you to meet him on the shore of his cove; so you’re currently headed down the cove’s cliff to him. You’re wearing another bikini you packed with a pair of sandals.

He wanted to show you exactly where he lived and to explain the tether you felt towards him; you secretly hoped that he would do more than that, too. To feel pride in having kissed a merman is something you would never thought would be a truth in your life. Noah’s physically different to say the least, but damn does he make your knees weak.

Noah beams waiting for you with his head and shoulders above the dark water. Throwing your sandals to the side and walking towards the edge of the water, you admire his glazed skin under the bright moon. Under the moonlight, his tattoos are riddled with water droplets that shine. His hair is soaking wet as always, falling into into eyes and shaping his temples.

“My place is nearby,” he smirks and nods his head over your shoulder. “We have to dive underneath the island.”

“Dive?” You shift weight on your feet before swimming off into deeper water towards him. Noah is confident in you, but he sees the hesitance on your face.

“You’ve been a great swimmer so far keeping up with me. I know you can do this,” he holds out his hand for you to take, “Just hold onto me and you’ll be safe.”

You take his hand and interlock his fingers with his. “I trust you.”

“Right this way, beautiful,” he pulls you underneath the water and you start swimming over the side of the cove. Even with your tether, you watch the pearlescent strip on his tail closely to not lose him. It’s the brightest part of the entire ocean at this point of the evening. The sun was out when you were here last and Noah probably failed to mention that he has night vision.

Following closely behind him, you squeeze his hand as you two approach a deep cavern that’s carved into the base of the island. 

“Hold on tight to me,” Noah faces you and holds your chin. “We’re going to dive and then swim right back up. I live in an underwater cave, so you’ll be able to walk around and breathe normally once we’re inside, okay?”

“Okay, I got this,” you breathe out steadily and give him an assured smile.

“Hell yeah, you do,” he kisses your knuckles in his hand. “C’mon.”

The strength of Noah’s tail pushes you both deep through the cavern and it’s the first time you feel real pressure on your limbs— and the first time you feel you need to hold your breath. Noah watches over you, and his presence helps you calm your nervous heart and lungs. When he points upwards, you know to swim with him toward the surface and you do so eagerly.

You gasp for air as you reach the surface even knowing you don’t need to. However, the sight around you could make you gasp, too.

Noah comes up to the surface after you and shakes out his wet hair. His gaze falls onto your bewildered expression. “Y/N, are you alright?” Noah asks with worry in his voice. 

“Yeah—,” you answer, truthfully, but you can’t fully focus on his voice as you’re wading through the water of his cave looking around at his home. The room is sizeable with the pool of saltwater you’re in the center of. Noah’s shelves are carved out of the side of the cave and stuffed with books thick and thin. There’s enough room to walk around the pool, but also layers of rock that surround it. Either it’s the material of the rock or the deep teal waters reflecting off of them, but it seems as though the cave’s walls are glowing blue-green. Moonlight seeps in through an opening in the ceiling, but you see he’s set up groups of white pillar candles around the edge of the cave. 

“I borrowed a lighter and candles from Nick,” he chuckles watching your lips turn into an “o”. “It was a pain in the ass to dry them all out and it took all day, but I wanted it to feel more romantic than our picnic yesterday.”

Your neck snaps to Noah, “I loved our date. Thank you though, your place is gorgeous.” You wrap your hand around his bicep and kiss his shoulder for reassurance. 

He melts under your touch. “I did too. Go ahead and rest on the ledge,” he motions towards the side of the pool. “I’ll help you up.”

You swim over to the edge of the pool and turn to face him. You feel his arms wrap around under your butt and begin to lift up. 

“Oh,” a surprised noise falls from your lips as he picks you up with ease and lifts you onto the smooth, rock edge. He also failed to mention his super strength, you think. You cross your legs and rest against the smooth stone behind you admiring the way the flicker of the lit candles reflect off the dark pool of water your calves dangle in.

“There you go,” he smiles up at you and rests his hands on your knees.

Looking around some more, you realize his place is pretty empty. There are two instruments that are reminiscent of guitars leaning on the opposite wall. Other shelves along the walls have wooden boxes and trinkets displayed, but he doesn’t have a bedroom, bathroom, or a kitchen. “Where do you sleep, Noah?” You ask, looking down at him. 

“You’re wondering if I have a bed?” He shoots you a smooth wink and raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, but not like that,” you fluster. He was right though, the thought about how he sleeps and has sex does cross your mind. “It just seems like you don’t have a lot of things.”

“Everything you see is what I have,” he shrugs and water splashes over his shoulders. “I don’t need much.”

“What do you eat, then?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. Unknowing to you, you have just uncrossed your legs at the same time as asking this question.

Noah’s gaze darts from your face to in between your legs, which are at his eye level. He nearly chokes and you watch him try to control a cough. “Uhm, I eat a lot of different things. I just don’t have the need to cook anything.”

Shying away from whatever that reaction was, you move on to talk about what has been on your mind all day, “So, you said you would tell me about what’s going on here?” You tap on your chest with your pointer finger.

His eyes widen as if you’ve just given him permission to look at your breasts sitting nicely in your bikini top. Noah forces his primal thoughts away and blinks to refocus on your question. It’s important he tells you quickly or you won’t know what’s coming to you.

Noah caresses your skin around your thighs with his thumbs. Clearing his throat he begins to explain everything, “When I told you that if I kissed you that I wouldn't be able to let you go, I was being literal.” Noah’s eyes pass back and forth searching for any bit of negative reaction, but you give none. You just nod him on to continue. “Beings like me, when we reach a certain time in our life that we feel we need a companion, something within our DNA begins an instinctual ritual to find…,” he pauses again looking for your eyes to dart to the water wanting to leave or for you to fidget out of your seat, “a mate.” He wants to shut his eyes and disappear from your curious gaze, but luckily to him, a small smile paints itself on your face. “I think my time began a couple months ago— when I began to start feeling bored and burnt out with my normal life. My body and mind pushed me to find someone to make me feel belonging and excitement again, and I didn’t see anyone fitting my ideal mate— until I saw you on the sands of my cove.”

His head falls and you look down at him concernedly. He continues, “I need you to understand that being my mate would make you mine for life. I would be the one you must love; you wouldn’t have a choice.” You want to interrupt him, but all you do is lean and place a soothing hand on his cheek. Noah tilts his head toward your touch, “Right now, we have formed a tether from our kiss that binds our two hearts together.” Noah looks up at you finally, but your heart caves in on itself when you see his eyes, red and glossy. “The tether is permanent. Throughout our lifetimes, neither of us will ever forget where the other is as we’ll be able to feel each other’s presence, even across the world. However, Y/N, if you don’t want any more than that, I understand.”

Grabbing both sides of his face, you lean down to lock on his eyes with furrowed brows, “Noah, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” The words seem crazy to you as you thought them over as he explained his culture, but hearing them come out of your mouth was a different story. You wanted to leave home and start anew; this is your chance to begin a life with someone that cared for all of you… Wanted you. “I think— I think your power over love is beautiful. Please know that I'm grateful for the gifts you’ve given me, including our tether. I want to be your mate.”

His hands come to the sides of your hips and his muscles flex when he pushes himself out of the water to meet his lips with yours. It’s a quick, soft, reassuring touch, nevertheless you feel your heart glow golden.

Back in the water, Noah uses his thumbs to rub away the redness and deep emotion in his eyes, but they still are slightly puffy. 

“I know I should believe you, but I need to ask if you’re sure? This isn’t a decision you can take back,” he reiterates.

“I’m sure,” you smile at him confidently. “So, do I marry you now? Say I do?” You chuckle under your breath and kick your feet in the water in front of him.

He laughs along with you and you notice the water behind him splashing. You imagine he’s kicking his tail in excitement, like a dog, at your answer. “We can get married and have a wedding,” he smiles up at you proudly, “If that is what you dream of. However, there’s a— different ritual that ningyo do in order to make a life mate relationship official.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head curiously.

Noah wants so badly to say the next word under his breath, but he has to be truthful to you, his soon to be mate. His wife. “Consummation,” he says assuredly.

Oh, okay! You think. You would’ve swam through a sunken ship to retrieve a ring or even fought a shark for him, but this ritual sounds much better. You never thought that you’d be mentally celebrating the opportunity to have sex with a merman, but it feels like fireworks are shooting off in your brain. 

Before you can react, he continues, “Y/N, since kissing you my body and mind have not been able to forget the way your skin feels on mine. I can’t get over the way you say my name. I just want— need you, primally. I’ve been acting strangely all day thinking about whether you would say yes to being my mate, and every time I imagined the words coming out of your mouth I— I needed to relieve myself,” he admits. A faint shade of pink blankets his cheeks. “So again, if you say no to this, I’ll under—,”

You interrupt him, “I want to have sex with you.” Very smooth. “I understand what I’m getting into and forever is okay with me. I want you.” The thought of Noah spilling into his fist several times today just because you kissed him makes your heart pound.

His eyes widen at your confidence. “I trust you, Y/N. I’ll make you mine,” he smiles proudly. “You should know that I’ve never had sex with a human before, though. All I know about female human anatomy is from what Nick has shown me in,” he catches your amused, hopeful expression, “— uhm, nevermind.”

You throw your head back and laugh, but realize he might feel insecure about his knowledge of your body, so you cover your mouth and chuckle to yourself silently. “Noah, have you watched human porn?” You whisper through your hand.

He scoffs and grabs underneath your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the pool. “Get over here,” his voice is assertive, but the warmth of his face hiding itself between your thighs tells you he feels otherwise.

“Mhm,” you hum teasingly. “What did you learn? I assume you watched it on something you borrowed from your friend?” You try to push him further. The sight of the big, strong ningyo crumbling between your legs fuels the aching fire in your core. 

“Put your legs over my shoulders and I’ll show you?” He asks while looking up at you with dark irises. His fingers come to the sides of your bikini bottoms and you lift yourself so he can pull them down off your legs. “I’m confident that I can please you in other ways, but I want to use my mouth— which is something I’ve never done before. Let me know if I’m making you feel good?” 

You nod and bite your lip while spreading your thighs and hooking your calves over each of his freckled shoulders. You didn’t expect to feel shy spreading yourself open for him, but Noah’s eyes are studying your form and his fingers are caressing your folds curiously.

The soft touch of his fingerpads explores the area around your entrance makes you shutter. Noah’s thumb finds your clit and begins kneading your bud intently. “Right there,” you praise him urging him on. One of his digits gathers your arousal from your entrance before pressing into you slowly. Little by little, you take on the length of his forefinger as he stretches you out for him while his thumbs continue circling your clit. “Noah, can I have more?”

“Of course,” he agrees adding his middle finger into you. He pumps into you purposefully; he curls his fingers upward and listens for the sweet sounds to come from you that help him make sure he’s hitting the spots you like best. Noah takes your chin in his empty hand and gives you a look of permission to move his mouth to where he wants it most. 

“Just don’t stop what you’re doing okay?” You nod and nibble your lip. Bringing your hands to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples over your bikini top, you’re eager to get off on his fingers. “Feels so good.”

Noah takes a second to ogle you, pleasing yourself, but since you’ve allowed him to duck his head between your thighs he’s there right afterward. He removes his thumb from your clit and replaces it with the suck of his lips. Like he’s been starving himself all day, his mouth and tongue move hungrily against your clit while he thrusts his fingers into your cunt in a focused rhythm. The sound of his lapping and the squelch of you on his fingers reverberates against the walls of the empty cave.

“Noah,” your hands reach for his hair and interlace with his dark, damp strands. “Fuck, you’re doing so well, baby.”

He groans between your legs and squeezes the outside of your thigh around his head with his empty hand.

When Noah described his primal urges, you had not understood the gravity of which it affects him. He needs this. He needs you. You believe that getting you off is an instinctual goal driving him to devour you with vigor. Squeezing your breast harshly, you anticipate how he’ll behave once he gets to thrust into you with his dick.

“I’m so close, Noah,” you choke out, “but I want to cum with you. Let me cum on your cock.” You plead to him, but he continues on with his movements; your announcement almost encourages him to continue moving his tongue and fingers in tandem. “Noah, please, I’m gonna— fuck, you’re so good at this.”

“Mmm,” he hums on your clit before pulling away. “Cum on my fingers. I’ll make you cum on my cocks, too, I promise,” he claims before returning to your clit encouraging your orgasm.

Before, your eyes sat half lidded as he fucks you up to his knuckles, but now they’re wide open. Cocks? Like, with an “s”?

“Shit,” the thought of your pussy stretched around all of him makes you come undone. Gripping the back of his head, you pull him in and hump his mouth eagerly.

“Good girl, use me,” he praises you against your skin. He allows you to squirm on his hand as you ride out your high. Your chest heaves under your hand as you lie back against the stone behind you. “Ready to come down?” Noah asks while pressing nurturing kisses along the insides of your thighs down to your knees. He softly unhooks your legs from his shoulders and places them over the ledge.

“Mhm,” is what you can muster as a response as you sit up slowly. While your brain is dazed, you still yearn to give all of yourself to him. Putting on a show for your soon-to-be mate, you undo the tie of your bikini top and drop each strap to the sides sensually. The top falls to your lap and you throw it over your shoulder into the slate cave wall. 

“H— Hold onto me,” Noah says distractedly. You take his shoulders under your palms and brace yourself for him to lift you off the stone ledge back into the pool. 

You expect to hiss at the cool temperature change, however, the heat of your arousal warms you and there’s no need to adjust to the Okinawan waters. Your skin, between your legs, your hands… Everywhere is hot with need for him. 

Holding onto Noah’s shoulder for support, you brush his damp hair back with your fingers. He melts into your touch and almost purrs with pleasure. Taking his chin between your fingers, you praise him again seeing how he wanes to your words. While being a powerful, fantastical being, he’s also reminded you how he is all yours. “Thank you for trying something new for me,” you tell him before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.

He returns your kiss and wraps his arms around your torso snugly, pulling you into his. “You get to have everything you want,” he pulls away to kiss along your collarbone and up your neck, “now that you’re with me.”

As he kisses your neck, you feel the firm press of his pelvis against your upper thigh. You look down, but can’t see much through the obscured water, just the reflection of the moon through the ceiling and candlelight.

“Can I touch you?” You ask hesitantly while trailing your fingers along the velvety scales on his hip.

Noah takes your hand in his from his hip and guides into to about where a human man’s groin would be. His breath hitches as he helps wrap your smaller fingers around one of his members. “I know humans only have one. I don’t expect you to…” Noah pauses questioning his vocabulary, “Use both of them tonight.”

Excitedly and inquisitively, you explore his parts while watching his face twist and eyes roll back into his skull. Just from feeling, his cocks are stacked on top each other, vertically, with the lower one being larger than the human average size while the upper one is about one inch shorter. They seem to be prehensile having the ability to move freely in your palm, seeking your warmth. Twisting your hand up and down larger shaft, he’s wider at the base than the tip and much smoother than a human, besides the shallow, chevron ridges that line the bottom of the shafts. He feels so slick in your hand… His water-resistant precum coated himself as he went down on you.

He must have really enjoyed himself, you think. 

As you rub your thumb over his larger tip, you realize you’ve distracted yourself from the merman attached to it. He hisses under your touch before wrapping his arms underneath your ass and hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I need to be inside of you, so badly, it hurts,” he proclaims. “No more teasing.”

“I’m giving myself to you,” you whisper. “Please fuck me.” 

Noah bites his lip focusing on moving slowly regardless of his impulsions to buck up into you with force. With his large hands supporting you, he guides you down on his larger member. You feel it prod against your entrance moving itself up and down your slit.

“Fuck—”

“—yes,”

You two moan together as your pussy stretches around his cock while he lowers you. As he bottoms out on his flared base, you feel his other, smaller phallus rubs lazy figure-eights on your aching clit.

“That feels perfect,” you compliment. “Keep going.”

He leans in to attach his lips to yours and starts to bounce you on his cock. The saltwater moves around you in soft waves in response to your movements. With your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, he pulls you into his hips.

Noah continues to thrusts into you rhythmically while the sounds of your combined moans fill the empty cavern. “Look at you,” he smiles, his pearl tooth twinkling at your sultrily. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. You wanted to say how you’ve never experienced sex like this before, but you’re head is so foggy you can’t get the words out. The way you feel is euphoric. You mentally wonder if there’s some magical element to his precum to make you feel like every thrust feels better than the last, but maybe you’re stereotyping him now. No way that could be the case, right? You think.

Setting you to bottom out on his cock, he stills his hands to start thrusting his hips normally. Every sensation he brings to your body drags you closer and closer to your end. The circling of his phallus on your clit, the needy humping of his hips into yours, and his soft lips on your neck and shoulders all exhilarate you at once.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you cry out in a whine. Your forehead meets his and you shut your eyes to focus on his touch. Your pussy pulses around his dick to take him for all he’s worth as you reach your climax.

“Fuck, me too,” Noah announces before shutting his eyes and groaning through his orgasm. You feel his cum glaze your walls and it feels different than you would expect… thick, cooling, and sticky.

You hold Noah close and come down from your second orgasm with him. He matches his breathing with yours. Looking between the both of your chests, a soft golden light shines for the first time through your skin before it dissipates to nothing.

Noah looks up from your chest with a grin. “You’re mine now. I— I love you already,” he proclaims with a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too,” you reply. Usually you would feel crazy for saying such words less than a week of knowing someone, but right now it feels so right. Resting your head on his shoulder, exhausted, Noah holds you close to his body. “Can I stay here for a while before we swim back up?”

“Of course, my love,” he nods and rubs soothing circles on your shoulder blades. “If you need to take a nap or anything… It’s okay. You can even pick out a book from my library, so I can read to you.” Even without looking up, you can feel the beam of his smile shining next to you.

—

NOAH’S POV

Y/N spent the majority of the night with me that night as we enjoyed having completed our mating ritual; I read to her as she rested on the edge of the pool and we chatted about our future together. 

She left the next morning needing to catch her flight to return home and she’s been away from me for two months. I can still feel all of her, though. I know exactly where she is, and my chest feels like it glowing when she happens to look in my direction.

Even with her gone, the past couple months I haven't spent alone, not just because of our tether, but because I’ve reconnected with my friends and with my love of music. I’ve been singing every day and writing new songs… Some of which are about her.

Besides music, only one other goal has been driving me to wake up every morning: finding a way that I can have my family, Nicholas and Y/N, to be here in the ocean with me whenever they like.

Following the rumors and pursuing every lead, I think I’ve finally found the magic I need and I can’t wait until she’s back in Japan for me to show her.

[makethemhoesmad]

meddle about

it’s been a long time coming

big big thanks to @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

for helping me out on the dirty part of this

warning: smut, alcohol, top kate

~

living off campus as an iowa student meant that you could always go out to the bars instead of the frat parties on friday nights 

tonight, you went out with your roommate and her boyfriend, knowing that you would either go home alone tonight or find someone to take you home. At first, it seemed like it was going to be the former option. The bars were near empty, with only a few horny freshman that weren’t exactly your type. You had your back to the door ordering a drink when the bar suddenly got a lot louder. You ignored the noise, thinking it was just a group of people that migrated here from a frat party. That is, you ignored it until someone came up next to you and handed the bartender the money for your drink before you had time to.

“I’ve got it babes, don’t worry about it.”

You whipped your head around to be met with the sight of quite literally the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. 

Now, you didn’t feel like you were very short, not at 5’9. But having to look up at this girl who was obviously at least 6’0, that did something to you.

“What’s your name, gorgeous? Mine’s Kate, but you might already know that if you’ve ever watched my games.”

That’s why she seemed familiar. She was Kate Martin, a player on your school’s very impressive basketball team. 

“Oh, um, my names y/n”

“y/n, that’s a hot name, what would you say if i said that we should head back to my appartement?”

She looped her arm around your waist, nearly melting your resolve, which wasn’t very high to begin with. In doing so, it allowed you to notice the obvious muscle she packed not only in her arms, but her whole body.

“I don’t know, would you make it worth my time?” You blinked up at her innocently, waiting for a response.

“Oh baby, if i’m not worth your time, then you’re going home alone tonight.”

You followed her out to her car.

The car ride is short as you make your way back to her place. It doesn’t take long for Kate’s hand to find its way onto your thigh. Noah Kahan plays quietly on the radio. Your eyes watch the bright lights blaze past through the window as she drives. You almost don’t notice the way her hand creeps up your exposed legs. The short skirt you’d chosen to wear provides her easy access. Electricity courses through your veins as her hand moves higher. You look over at her to find her to be seemingly focused on the road in front of her. In reality, she is paying the road just enough attention to avoid a major accident. Her real focus is on just how wet she could get you before you walked through the door of her apartment. So far it seems like she is doing pretty well. You just brush off her actions as her being a touchy drunk, but her motives became increasingly clear when her long fingers graze the lacy fabric of your panties. Her blank expression is  quickly replaced with a knowing smirk as a soft groan escapes your mouth. She doesn’t move her hand. She just lets it rest on your now soaked underwear. You are close enough to her place that she decides to speed up the process. The alcohol in both of your systems is  likely to catch up to the both of you within a few hours. Kate has a lot that she wanted to do to you, and with such little time she would clearly have to move pretty fast. It doesn’t take long for her to pull into the parking garage of her building. She quickly puts the car in park before crashing her lips onto yours. It takes no time for you to melt into her as your lips move against hers.  She pulls you into her lap, hands gripping your hips. Her tongue finds  its way into your mouth causing you to moan into her mouth softly. Kissing her is utterly intoxicating. She doesn’t even take a moment to breathe, and you don’t want her to. Your hands become tangled in her long blonde hair, just trying to get even close to her. She starts to move your hips against her which causes you to basically grind on her. She finally pulls back after what felt like a lifetime, yet somehow it isn’t enough. You still want more of her. She looks up at you with that same knowing smirk. She has you wrapped around her finger, and she knows it. It was one of the most infuriating things, yet somehow you can’t recall a time you’d been more turned on. Her lips connect with the  skin on your neck. Soft moans filled the small space of her car as you practically rode her thigh. 

“Kate…” you groan as pleasure fills your body. 

“Yeah baby?” She coos against the skin on your neck, still ‘helping’ you grind on her. Her lips return to suck on that one spot that makes you melt, waiting for you to tell her what you need. 

“Can we go inside now?” your words were meant to come out strong and seductive, but they sound desperate and needy instead. Kate doesn’t mind one bit. She likes seeing you like this. 

“Whatever you want, sweet girl,” she mumbles against your neck, placing one final peck on the sensitive skin. She takes a moment to look at you as she pulls your hair back to get a better view of your features. “You know you’re really pretty right?” 

Her words make your face hot as a smile forms on your now puffy lips. Her nimble fingers hook themselves in the door handle, pushing it open. You carefully slide off her lap and step on to the concrete. You immediately pull your skirt down to look somewhat presentable. Kate trails  behind you, hand resting on the small of your back to lead you through her building. You both stay silent until you enter the empty elevator. As soon as the doors shut, Kate is  all over you. She backs you up against the wall. Her hands resting on your waist. Your lips move perfectly against hers. You both are so lost in the moment that you almost missed her floor. She pulls away, grabbing your wrist to lead you into her apartment.

She quickly shuts the door behind her, pressing your back against the cold wood. Her hands rest just under your shirt. Her lips find their way onto yours yet again. She’s not wasting any time as she pulls your shirt over your head. Her hands roam over the newly exposed skin. Her hands linger on the soft lace bra that matches the panties under your skirt. Her lips make their way down your chest, sucking harshly on the skin. Her hands grip your waist as she finds her way onto her knees, still placing wet kisses along your skin. She looks up at you as her hands reach the waistband of her skirt. After receiving an enthusiastic nod, she pulls the black fabric down your legs, leaving you in your matching set. She pulled herself back up, spinning you around in the process. She walked you backwards through her apartment, continuing to make out with you in the process. 

Once you make it to her room, she gently pushes you down onto her soft comforter. You tug at the bottom of her top, hoping to get her to pull her own top off. She happily obliges, unbuttoning her shirt and jeans. She sheds the clothes which leaves her in a simple black bralette and underwear. Her hands stroke your thighs gently as she pulls them apart, settling herself between them. She places wet kisses on your thighs causing you to squirm with need. She giggled slightly as she picked up on your desperation. 

“You’re so wet, pretty girl,” She smirked up at you as her fingers traced light circles over your core. “You can have whatever you want. All you have to do is ask for it.” You groan as you realize what you were going to have to do for her to fuck you. 

“Kate, please…” you started hoping that it would be enough. It of course wasn’t. She wanted you to actually say the words. “Just fuck me please. I need you.” you whine, her smirk growing. Those words were music to her ears. She pulled your panties down in one quick motion. Her fingers rubbed circles over your exposed clit. Your back arches at the contact, soft moans leaving your swollen lips. She replaces her fingers with her tongue which causes your hips to buck into her face as your hands grip her dirty blonde locks. She laps your wet folds as borderline pornographic moans fill the room. She doesn’t slow down when your legs start to shake. She speeds up her tongue and pushes a finger inside your entrance. This quickly pushes you over the edge, but she doesn’t stop. She slips another finger inside of you, speeding up her thrusts as she sucks hard on your clit. Your body spasms as her fingers curl perfectly inside of you. Your head falls back onto the bed while your back arches. Her tongue is replaced by her thumb as she pulls away to look at you.

You look so fucking perfect like this,” She hums as her head rests against your soft thighs. You are in a state of ecstasy that you can’t form words. Beads of sweat roll down your cheeks as your eyes are fixated on her. It didn’t take much more for her to make you cum for the second time. Her fingers continue to thrust inside of you which causes hot tears to run down your cheeks. Pathetic whimpers fill the room. Indescribable waves of pleasure wash over you as her mouth returns to your pussy. The muscles in your torso contract and your hips buck as she continues to fuck you with no mercy. She pulls up to murmur words of praise as you take her fingers. 

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You are doing so good. Just one more, okay? I know you can do it. Be a good girl for me and take it.” She mumbles against your thigh before placing quick kisses on your inner thigh. Your hand goes to cover your mouth to quiet the desperate groans. Kate quickly notices and pulls your hand away. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you.” 

It only takes a few more thrust before you finish all over her fingers. She fucks you through your orgasms, considering making you cum another time. Your spasming body and tears tell her that you’ve taken enough. She brings her fingers to your mouth which you happily take into you mouth, swirling your tongue around her long lean fingers. She places a soft kiss on your forehead and wipes away your tears with her free hand. She slides her fingers out of your mouth and pulls you into her body. She showers you with praise and kisses as her hands softly rub your back, effectively bringing you down from your high. She was definitely worth your time

[keouil]

all while she stains the sheets of another

caleb sends zayne one line of text: hunter down. 3k. zayne/caleb/xavier/mc. also on ao3.

My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.

JEFF BUCKLEY

I take off my hands and I give them to you, but you don't want them so I take it back and put it on the wrong way, the wrong wrists.

RICHARD SIKEN

光

Zayne immediately knew something was wrong.

Akso Hospital kept a moderate temperature on its walls for the most part, a way to keep samples fresh and temperaments a little low. Less chances of anger breaking through the skin of people who were already either hyperemotional, hypervigilant, hypersensitive. He's used to the rhythm and icy meter of these blocks of concrete, welcomes it even, the natural way it stitches into his bones and his Evol clinging to it like water to a starving man.

But in all his years working here, it had never felt as chilling as it did now. As it did as he takes note of the room number and name scrawled on it’s nameplate. As he hears the wailing even from outside.

He opens the door.

"Zayne."

It is Caleb, of all people, who calls out to him. Caleb who was leaning near the door with his arms folded across his chest and blood marks all over his person. He was in his fighter pilot uniform and maybe that should have been Zayne's first warning sign, because he had been the one to sign off on his decommissioning papers hadn't he, insisting that the state Caleb was in was in no current mental or physical position to be out on the field.

But he knew certain allowances could be made in secret. That when push came to shove, certain people made the prospect of insubordination worth it. 

It could only be that one person, then.

"How bad is it?"

Caleb, for all his credit, schools his expression into something somber. Something about it calls into a deep part of Zayne's own person he thought he buried along with William. The one that drilled in tranquility in moments of supreme pressure and high-stress environments, a steady hand in even the most violent of uproaring. He saw the soldier in Caleb the same way Caleb was calling unto the combat medic in him.

He'd meet him halfway. 

He'd meet him in the deepest trenches of hell, at this point, for—

"Bad," Caleb finally says. His voice is like sandpaper on rocks, all tints of boyish amusement or dominant demeanor scrubbed clean. He suddenly sounded so young. So like someone around his own age who didn't command an entire fleet or belonged to top secret organizations. 

"He fell pretty bad, Zayne. It’s—I don’t think he—um. Listen, I think," he continues, eyes moving anywhere but at the other side of the room with the veiled wailing, "I think he was pretty banged up. Even before then."

Zayne considers the lining in his words but can’t dwell on it. "Okay," he says, and says in a much lower voice, "But alive, right?"

"Barely," Caleb says sternly. "He needs—"

"Zayne?"

You hold yourself up by the thread of a needle sometimes, Noah told him just after Mount Eternal. What happens when you run out of thread?

As it happens, Zayne thought as he gave himself just a second to orient himself back into his body, as he gave Caleb a look of steel and met a similar one mirrored back on his face, this is what happens when that happens:

"Hey," he says, and takes a step closer; 

"Zayne." she croaks, again, voice barely a whisper; 

"I know," he says, softer, arranging himself next to her, and then: "I'll fix it. I'll fix him."

⊹

It was Caleb who made the call.

It was Caleb who sent Zayne one line of text just seconds before it: Hunter down.

"I don't fucking care if you're on your fifth surgery of the day or just waltzing into your shift with your morning coffee or some other bullshit," he very nearly hissed at him, tone seething and a little distracted, maybe even incredulous at what he was doing. "Make it happen, Zayne. Meet us in your operating room in one hour or her grief will be in your hands."

He'd been briefed by Greyson—who Caleb also rang in the middle of the goddamn night because he knew Zayne would need a second—that it had been an S-class mission that did them in.

There's a specific part of the mountains in Linkon Forest that was closed off not just to civilians but even hunters, the potency of radioactive protocores higher than what was healthy to consume even by meagre increments nor skilled hunter standards. A particularly malevolent area, it was; but rich in resources. Resources they needed to mine for niche protocore research. Resources that would help speed along a decade-long experiment by half. It was invaluable, necessary, and apparently life-altering.

Of course she went with him.

What they didn't expect: an undocumented terrain, the onslaught of a brewing storm just making its way into Linkon, their devices failing as soon as they gained more footing on the blind path. Linkon Forest regularly got requests for rescue missions from time to time, and by extension Akso Hospital who were first responders. But at the depth they were in, the heightened vulnerable points of their unpredictable path, and the particularly horrific details she was screaming into her phone when she finally got contact that came in quick, panicky bursts: ....b-blood [...] s-so much of i-it.. r-right lung fractured [...] eyes n-not opening .. p-pulse is not there [..] breathing, please, oh god please [..] s-someone [[.. help]] p-p-please!

It was one of the most harrowing, bone-chilling distress calls he'd ever heard. 

Caleb was quicker to act than the emergency response and rescue team they dispatched. He was her second call, and even before they hung up, he was already bulldozing through the trees on his personal aircraft and zeroed in on their location and all but hauled them out of there.

He was quickly Caleb's first call then very shortly after. 

⊹

The surgery is not without its complications.

Trauma lives in the body, is the first brutal lesson Zayne learned in medical school. Your body can't cover its tracks and will beg to tell the story of your pain. Every line of skin or stitching of wire is there to hold you up for a reason, your anatomy the single almost infinitesimal telling of how your print slices you off differently from the rest.

He could tell this had been a beautiful body once. Holy, princely, even.

But now his body was all but banged up beyond comprehension. Multiple bones fractured, multiple depressions to his skin, multiple bleeding arteries he was basically a flowing river of blood. It disoriented him as soon as he cracked open his chest to find black lining on his lungs. He knew he wasn't a smoker, because hunters get periodically tested for vices, and wouldn’t be allowed to continue if they saw traces of anything on their system. He had inhaled too much of it, then, the protocore residues; maybe it happened when they were rushing to outrun the falling debris and had to prioritize the air in their lungs. Maybe it happened before then, when she sprained her ankle and he had to accommodate her extra weight. 

A lot of things could have happened. A lot of stories could be told.

The story this one does, though: a sacrifice. Zayne can already picture it, fills the gaps in himself, can practically see the scene play out from underneath him: a crumbling side of land giving away too quickly, rocks raining down on them as thunder shot in the distance like guns going off, a body covering another body. A rock covering a body. Another one trying vainly to pull it free, but a body of rock is as solid as a brick wall, and he already knew she lived a brief moment alone in that forest believing and was already trying to live with the worst.

She did it with Caleb. If she had to, again, with him: she could power through.

But Zayne knew she didn’t want to ever again.

Zayne didn't have to ask him for a confirmation when all she has to show for this night in hell was a sprained ankle and a few surface cuts.

And he's never told explicitly once, none of them would ever try he thinks, but all the same he feels it: his over involement. Greyson wisely keeps his mouth shut but also covers for him, for his slight tremors and general disorientation, for his over involvement and over investment and over everything of this procedure that clued anyone in on the dangers of tending to your own kin. 

And he was, wasn't he, kin: because she had so obviously been his and that's all Zayne can think of that it fractures his nerves and sludges through trying to make it as impersonal as possible because it had now been anything but.

"Stay your hand, Zayne," says Greyson, lowly. "We’ve done this before and we'll do it again successfully. This is just another body."

So he does. He calls into the combat medic side of him to brave through this landmine, and he answers.

The body answers, too.

He checked five times with his anesthesiologist, he made sure he did, anytime the contours of the body’s mouth opened: but he was unconscious. His vitals told him that, the nurse holding his head has assured him, the silence in the room bar the rhythmic beeping and tapping of the machines also tell him as much. He made sure of it. He made sure every single person on the emergency trauma team bet their entire livelihoods on making sure of this. 

And so when his mouth still kept opening from time to time, and his voice uttered something incoherent every so often, and Zayne finally relented and halted and the room took a breath to find out what he was saying along with him: he was even more spooked.

Because it wasn't her name he was saying. It wasn't her name at all.

Perhaps that was when he knew he was operating on a body that had overstayed its welcome. 

⊹

"So did you know," says Caleb, not a question but a statement it felt like, when Zayne finally makes it out of the operating room and fought the urge to slide beneath a wall like a first-year medical student who just scrubbed into his first surgery and felt, for the first time as well, the grimming reality of it all. "About him and her."

Zayne accepts the coffee he hands him as he slumps down on a bench. Two sugar cubes and a dash of milk, he notes, and wonders how irritated Caleb must've felt remembering how he takes his coffee because he never told him but has told her plenty. "Him and her?"

It’s a little past three am now.

The only sounds the hospital is making at this hour are quiet stillness or loud anguish. There’s never a middle ground. Somehow they meet halfway, though, now on the clean synthetic walls of the cardiac surgery ward where there are no wars to be fought metaphoric or otherwise: or all the same have been forced to like old times. Swords being lowered down in favor of her.

Caleb takes a seat beside him and stares at nothing in particular. "Let's not do this, Zayne. We're both too tired and sleep-deprived and old."

“Where is she?” asks Zayne.

“Resting for now,” supplies Caleb. “Finally got her to calm down. I set her up in your office.”

Zayne nods along, takes a sip. "It's not our place to know," he says after a moment. "And it's also not the time, Caleb."

"I don't think there ever will be," sighs Caleb, something dejected swimming on the corners of his eyes. "You should have seen them when I got there. It was — It just —" he pauses, tries, and stops again. 

And then:

"I've never seen her like that before."

Those are words Zayne knows Caleb doesn't say lightly. 

He probably hasn't ever, in any point of his life, found a situation where he could arrange those words and mean it. He knows Caleb takes pride in being her best friend, at being the person who knew her the longest and has had the maximum amount of shared experiences with. 

It's how he also knows why he's always been stiff with him as a result: because he, too, knew her for arguably a similar period. But he knows it was never about the time spent, but the quality of it. And he's already seen how just a few ample years without Caleb's hyper surveillance of her have married them in a way, at Caleb begrudgingly acknowledging he was the person to call in this situation, at the fine line of his mouth when he heard her croak out his name in relief a few hours ago, at the restraint it was taking him not to implode on the walls of this hospital because his balloon of safety net for them both has done exactly that: ballooned and strayed so far from his control.

Even farther, then, if—

"His name is Xavier," Zayne finds himself saying, trying to personalize this abstract form of enemy he knew Caleb was brewing inside his head. "Military probably knows him as Lumiere, though."

"I know who he is," Caleb says, so simply that Zayne believes he knows every detail about that man's life and his gross miscalculation that he ever doubted he would. "I just didn't know they were close."

"They're paired hunters," Zayne supplies. "Parabatai. They're sworn to an oath to protect their own, even taught to lay down their lives for the other if need be. But I know you know all of this already,” he says, turns to him, and then: “What I don't know is why you're getting so worked up over it."

Caleb's eyes flash to him for a second, but it's alright, because Zayne can hold it. Zayne could probably hold it the best out of all of them, and he knows this, and because he knows this, asks: "Am I wrong?"

A muscle in his jaw works out. A slip of his eye sharpens. "No," he says with great effort, teeth nearly flashing. "You're not wrong."

Zayne surveys him for a second more, before passing along his coffee. "There's a time and place, Caleb. Let her heal for now."

⊹

Caleb doesn't. 

Zayne already knew he wouldn't. 

He sees it in the harsh angles of his face that sharpen just exactly so when Zayne announces himself on yet another supervised visit, signalling annoyance that his attempt to get information had once again been blocked. Zayne knows he doesn’t know much about patience where she was concerned, and in some ways was so affably young in his relentless pursuit of information, that he has to remember maybe Caleb was like this because he was in fact still young. They don’t have a decade on each other but seeing how reckless Caleb got sometimes, it might as well have been twenty years they were apart. 

She wouldn’t do with a sudden assault like that.

She was delicate as she was now, always just waiting idly by at his bedside brushing his hair away from his face or playing him soft piano instrumentals. Refreshing his flowers every day. Reading old fairy tales to him. 

Caleb didn't like any of it and it showed.

Zayne was sure she was being granted so much leniency for now because he hadn’t expected that level of pure anguish from her, couldn’t believe it could exist for someone that wasn’t him. And he knew it took great effort to admit it on his side, but he thinks if he saw her model that similar reaction for Zayne: that at least wouldn’t have been too left field and he could have learned to live with it because they've learned to live with each other for just as long.

Zayne was an expected pesky variable in his equation. Xavier was not.

So he beats Caleb to it before he blows up.

"By the way," Zayne starts, gently, when they visit him again after all their shifts have ended and they were eating take-out courtesy of Gideon. "He was talking all throughout his procedure. Most patients get a phantom reaction like that, so it's no cause for concern. He was just mumbling something repeatedly, anyway. A name."

She stiffens.

Zayne does, too, out of surprise at her reaction: and so does Caleb.

But the way she does it, the way her body straightens into something like in alarm, the way her eyes also flash with something like apprehension and fear and maybe reckoning. That clues Zayne in on how maybe this wasn't the first time he's done this. And maybe the confirmation will wreck her, and so Zayne is already backpedalling, and is already thinking of something to reason with—

"A name," she repeats slowly. "Do you remember what it was?"

"Hey now," Caleb starts, putting his chopsticks down. "Maybe this isn't—"

"Who was it, Zayne."

Zayne doesn't look at Caleb. His eyes are arrested on her, holding her desperation, and knows it’s his damnation: he can't lie.

"It was an old name from a long time ago," he finally says, and whatever would become of this, they would brave it: "The name of an old Philos queen."