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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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The Younger Kind Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You were clearly terrified. Bradley promised he will take care of you, and he is determined not to let you down again. And maybe this will be his only opportunity for you to hear him out.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, excessive drinking, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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"Please come get me."

Your voice sounded so helpless. Bradley was already reaching for his jeans as he said, "I'm coming. Where are you, Princess?"

"I don't know," you sobbed. "At a party. At a frat house. I don't know!"

Fucking hell. You sounded like you were wasted. "Do you think you can share your location with me?" He was trying his best to keep his voice calm.

"Yeah," you told him so softly, he barely heard you. "They ripped my dress. They kept touching me, and Ollie ripped my dress. And I'm so scared, and Greyson thinks it's funny."

Bradley's blood ran cold. He didn't know who Ollie was, but he sure as hell knew about Greyson. And you sounded more than scared. You were clearly terrified. "Who was touching you?" he demanded, grabbing a sweatshirt and his wallet.

"Ryan. And Ollie kissed me. It wasn't even rum. And I can't find Lexi."

You were sobbing harder, sniffing as your voice shook. Bradley was going to dismantle every fraternity house in San Diego before he let anything happen to you. Before he let anyone else touch you. "Can you lock yourself in a room? Maybe a bathroom?" he asked frantically.

"Bradley, please come get me! I don't want you to be sick of my shit," you moaned. "I want you to want me still."

"Baby, I do still want you. Can you send me your location?" He needed you to focus on that much, and he could take care of the rest. As soon as he knew where to find you, he'd make sure he did.

"Yeah," you told him again. "I think."

"I need you to send me your location, okay? Can you do that now?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Okay," you whispered. Bradley tied his shoes and ran to Noah's room to scoop him up out of bed. After he nearly dropped his phone, he heard it ping with your location.

"Good girl," he told you, and you whimpered. "Now where exactly are you in the house? Are you alone?"

Bradley carried Noah out to the Bronco and buckled him in his car seat as quickly as he could.

"I'm in a closet."

He figured that was better than you being openly intoxicated in front of the frat boys who sounded like they wanted to take advantage of you. "I'm on my way, okay? I'm coming to get you." He could just picture you crying inside a closet, too scared to figure out what to do. And the thought killed him.

You whimpered again as you said, "I miss you."

Bradley's heart was aching with need. "I miss you too, Princess. I'll come get you, okay? Then we'll be together."

"Yeah," you sighed. "And I can color dinosaurs with Noah."

"You know he loves that, Baby. Noah loves you." He was fighting to keep the panic out of his voice, not wanting you to be more upset than you already were.

But now you were sobbing again, and Bradley drove faster. He ran a red light. He nearly hit a curb. He drove as quickly as he could toward Penny's house.

And then you whispered, "My phone's dying. Please come get me!"

"Hang up, Princess. I'm on my way, I promise you. Keep texting me and telling me you're okay until your phone dies. And stay in that closet."

After you promised him you'd stay exactly where you were, you ended the call, and Bradley called Penny. He was sure he woke her up, but it didn't matter.

"I need you to take Noah. Right now. I'm almost at your house."

When he pulled up, Penny was in her robe on the front porch. "What's going on?" she asked, clearly alarmed as Bradley carried Noah to her. He kissed Noah's curls as his sleepy son climbed into Penny's arms.

"You owe me after Helen!" he told her, and he knew she still felt guilty. "I need to take care of something!"

She just nodded and turned toward her front door with Noah. Bradley was back on the road toward the address you sent him immediately. His phone lit up with a text from you, letting him know you were okay.

He was five minutes away, cutting around double parked cars and laying on his horn. He got another text from you a minute later, but then the texts stopped. He called you, but you didn't answer. When he tried calling again, he got your voicemail immediately.

"Fuck!" he shouted. This was all his fault. You shouldn't even have been messed up with his bullshit in the first place. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to you tonight. You deserved to be worshipped, not dragged through this kind of shit.

Then he found the house, and it was an absolutely raging party with loud music and people spilling out onto the front yard. And Bradley thought for a second that if you were no longer alone, nobody else would be able to hear you crying for help.

He was out of the Bronco before he could think about that any further. You were inside, and he was going to find you and deal with these guys accordingly. He ran up through the students hanging out on the porch, shoving bodies out of his way as he entered the house. The floor was sticky. There was a topless girl dancing in the corner. And it was dark enough that Bradley's eyes needed to adjust so he could see. There were so many people in the living room, he wouldn't even be able to find a closet.

As he scanned the room, his eyes settled on Greyson's lanky form and blond hair, and his fists clenched involuntarily. Bradley bodily moved people out of his way to get to Greyson, and when he was close, Greyson looked up at him, his eyes flashing with recognition.

"Where is she?" Bradley demanded, inhaling and exhaling each ragged breath as Greyson just looked at him. "Tell me, or I'll fucking level you right now."

"I don't know, man," Greyson mumbled. He looked and sounded drunk, and Bradley took him by the front of his shirt and slammed him hard against the wall. Finally his eyes were more alert as he looked up at Bradley in shock.

"Do you remember now?" Bradley asked, pushing against his throat with one big hand.

"She was with Ryan and Ollie," Greyson gasped.

"Well then were the fuck are they?"

"Upstairs."

He let go, and Greyson slid down the wall, but Bradley was already heading for the stairs and taking them two at a time. There was a line of people waiting for the bathroom, and some guys were smoking a joint. He called out your name once and then again even louder. A few people turned to look at him, and the guys smoking the joint started laughing.

"Everyone's looking to get in on the action," said the smaller one with a laugh that made Bradley see red.

"Where is she?" Bradley growled, voice shaking as he stormed toward them.

"Man, if I knew where she was, I'd be all over it," he replied lazily. Bradley smacked the joint out of his hand and stomped on it.

He shoved the smaller, talkative one against the wall and kept an eye on the bigger one. "Are you the one who touched her?"

The bigger one laughed and said, "Not as much as I was hoping to."

Bradley released his friend and punched the big one right in the gut and watched him sink to the floor, coughing.

"Did you drug her?" Bradley asked, stepping down right on his hand until he was nearly screaming.

"No! And we stopped touching her! I swear!"

Bradley removed his foot, and he grabbed at his hand. "Holy shit," he groaned as Bradley rounded on the smaller one again.

"Where is she?" Bradley shouted.

"Sorry, man," he mumbled to Bradley, eyes wide as he held up his hands. "That bitch ran away. Or she's hiding somewhere. We didn't do anything."

If you were still hiding, Bradley would find you. He shoved past the guys and opened the first door he came to. There was a girl making out on the bed with some guy, and at first glance, Bradley thought it might be you.

"What the fuck?" the guy shouted, but Bradley went right for the bedroom closet, nearly ripping the door off the hinges. He pushed the clothing aside and tossed some boxes out onto the bedroom floor. You weren't there.

He found another bedroom, but this one was empty, and when he opened the closet, there was nothing inside except for crates of bottles of alcohol. He called your name a few times as he opened a hallway closet and tore it apart.

"Princess!" he yelled, opening the door at the end of the hallway. He was going to lose his mind if he couldn't find you. Your phone battery was probably dead. Who knows if you were still alone. Anybody could have found you by now. It had been too long since he heard your voice.

He tore into the room. It was lit by soft lamp light, and the closet door was on the adjacent wall. Bradley threw it open, letting the door shudder against the wall. The space was dimly lit, but he saw your shoes right away.

"Princess," he gasped, sinking down to his knees and moving the cardboard boxes that you were hiding behind. Your knee was cut open, sticky blood drying on your shins. The top of your dress was shredded on one side, your breasts exposed as you lay curled up tight. "Oh my god," Bradley whispered, reaching for you to see if you were unconscious.

He pulled you close to him, and your eyes fluttered open slightly. "No," you whined, trying to crawl away on your bloody knee. "Leave me alone." He could hear the tears in your voice as you kept shaking your head.

"Princess. It's me, Baby."

"Bradley?" you asked quietly. Your face softened as you took a deep breath and opened your eyes fully. Then you were scrambling into his arms, and your face was buried against his neck as you sniffed and sobbed.

"I'm right here," he promised in a steady whisper. "It's okay. You're safe." For the first time in the last thirty minutes, Bradley sighed in relief and let his pulse start to calm down. "I have you."

"I'm sorry," you gasped, your voice breaking on the words. "I didn't know who else to call."

He kissed your forehead and examined your face, cupping your chin with his hand. "You call me. You always call me, okay? I will always come for you."

You nodded at him, and he kissed your cheek. Fear and relief were written all over your pretty face. You couldn't keep your eyes open, and every time they closed, your head started to lull to the side. He tried to move you to sit on the floor, but you just squeezed him tighter and started to panic.

"Take me home," you begged, and Bradley kissed your forehead again.

As he rubbed your back, he very gently asked you, "Did those boys come up here? After you ran away to the closet? Did anyone else touch you?"

"No," you replied, kissing his neck and calming a bit. "I just hid. Please, take me home."

"Yeah," he promised. "I'm going to take you home. But let me put my shirt on you first."

He took his UVA sweatshirt off and had to hold you up and thread your arms through the sleeves while you cried, but at least you were covered up now. Then he gently took your hands and wrapped them around his neck, and your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Then he picked up your little purse and tucked it between your body and his.

"I wish I could be with you," you told him, your lips brushing against his neck as he stood up with you clinging to the front of him. "With you and Noah." His heart was going to shatter, because that was the only thing he wanted. Just you and his son in his life. Permanently.

He wrapped his left arm around your back and grabbed your thigh with his right hand. "I'm going to take you home. Take care of you," he promised, holding you tight and kissing your cheek softly as he carried you out into the hallway.

It smelled like someone had lit up another joint, and the music was much louder out here. But there was no sign of the two idiots as you held onto Bradley's neck and whimpered. "Please, take me home."

He carried you down the stairs and out the front door, not bothering to stop before he had you in the Bronco. He set you on the seat and pulled your dress down over your thighs before buckling you in. The back of your head met the seat softly, and your eyes closed. You slept while Bradley drove you to his house, stealing glances at you every few seconds. Your face was serene now, but the evidence of your tears was painted on your cheeks, and he could still hear your frantic voice.

"I love you," he whispered when he was parked in his driveway. You started to stir when he leaned across the console and kissed the top of your head. "I'll take you inside."

Once he had you scooped up in his arms, he carried you to the front porch. He had to set you down so he could unlock the door, and you immediately clung to the side of his body as you swayed on your feet.

"You're okay, Princess," he promised, guiding you inside with his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His sweatshirt was baggy on you, and Bradley couldn't keep himself from kissing the top of your head over and over.

"Where's Noah?" you asked when he led you down the hallway. "Bradley, where's Noah?" You sounded scared and concerned, and he took your face in his hands again. God, you were perfect, always concerned about Noah.

"He's with Penny, Baby. He's okay."

"Okay," you agreed, turning and going into the bathroom. Bradley closed the door for you to have some privacy, and then he went to get the first aid kit out of the kitchen. When he carried it back to the bathroom, you were just opening the door.

"Have a seat," he whispered, closing the toilet so you could sit down. He got a washcloth wet with some warm water. Your eyes were slightly out of focus as he knelt in front of you and started to clean up the blood. "Did you fall, Princess?" he asked, reaching for your hand and kissing your fingers. All he could picture was the asshole frat guys chasing you around and making you trip.

"I don't know. I think so," you told him softly, your eyes closing again, eyelashes brushing your cheeks. He watched you bite down on your lip when he cleaned your knee with cotton and some antiseptic. Then he put a large bandage over your cut and kissed you there.

"Princess," he whispered as his lips met your thigh.

You whimpered softly and threaded your fingers through his hair, and he melted into your touch. Then you lurched up off of the toilet, nearly knocking him over as you opened the lid and emptied the contents of your stomach. He held you in his lap and rubbed your back while you got sick over and over again. At least this would probably help you sober up and start feeling better.

"I'm sorry," you whispered after a few minutes. "I'll clean it up." You were wiping your face with some toilet paper and trying to catch your breath, and when you flushed the toilet you turned to look at him over your shoulder.

"I'll take care of everything," he promised, and you started crying again.

"I don't even want you to look at me right now," you whispered as you tried to squirm out of his lap. "Oh my god, did I interrupt your date?"

Bradley closed the toilet again and made you sit there, the look of mortification on your face had him rubbing circles along your calves with his thumbs.

"No. There's nobody except you, Princess. It's been that way for a long time."

But you just shook your head and buried your face in your hands. Bradley sighed and stood, digging around in one of the drawers to find a brand new toothbrush that you could use. He filled a disposable cup with some water and opened up the Sesame Street toothbrush.

"Come here," he whispered, coaxing you to stand as you looked up at him in embarrassment. You were perfect, and he loved you, and he was trying not to fuck this up. He squeezed some toothpaste onto the toothbrush and handed it to you. "I'll go get you a glass of water and some Advil. You can sleep in my bed."

A few minutes later, Bradley had you in his room, and he was helping you out of his sweatshirt. You just looked up at him like you were surprised he was there as he pulled your ruined dress over your head. The sight of you in front of him, perfect in nothing but your pink lace underwear was the only thing keeping him sane right now. Because once again he wanted to drive back to that frat house and beat the shit out of everyone.

"Daddy?" you asked softly, and Bradley's entire body heated up. Your lips parted and your eyes went wide at his guttural groan. Quickly he slipped his sweatshirt back over your head and helped you with the sleeves.

"You can sleep in here," he whispered, kissing you just below your ear as he pulled back his bedding for you to climb in. He watched as you wiggled your way to the middle of the bed and sank back against the pillows.

He turned to leave when you called his name. "Bradley. Where are you going?"

"I'll sleep on the couch," he told you, running his hand along the back of his neck. But you peeled back the covers, and the sight of you in his sweatshirt and your little pink panties had him weak.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your eyes wide and uncertain. He nodded, helpless to tell you no. He took off his undershirt and unzipped his jeans, and you watched his every move as he pulled them off, one leg at a time. When you held out your hand, he took it and climbed into bed next to you.

He pulled you close to his body and inhaled the sweet wildflower scent that still clung to your hair. And almost instantly, you were asleep in his arms.

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Your head was pounding, and for some reason your knee hurt. But you were warm and comfortable, and everything smelled nice. You swallowed against the dry feeling in your throat and tried to open your eyes. Where were you? What happened last night?

Your body tensed up, sending your head into a state of throbbing pain, because you felt an arm tighten around your waist. Something was brushing against the back of your neck. You weren't wearing your own clothing. When you opened your eyes and didn't immediately recognize where you were, you panicked.

"No," you whispered, scooting away from the arm as tears sprang to your eyes. You got completely wasted. You were trashed last night. Ollie and Ryan. The party. Your dress. They touched you. Ollie kissed you. "On no. Oh god."

Tears were sliding down your cheeks as you turned to see that you were with neither Ollie nor Ryan.

"Bradley!" you gasped as he stretched and licked his lips. After a few seconds, his eyes went wide, and he sat up.

"Baby, are you okay? Do you need the bathroom?"

You sat on the edge of the bed, half turned toward him, completely stunned. You had called him. From inside the closet. After you tripped and gashed your knee open. You looked down at the tidy bandage and found yourself wearing his soft sweatshirt and your underwear.

When you looked back at Bradley, still stunned that you were at his house, let alone in his bed with him, he must have noticed your tears. "Hey, it's okay, Princess," he muttered, sitting up all the way and reaching for you.

Before he could touch your body, you blurted out, "You picked me up from the party? Did we have sex last night? Where's Noah? Is he with Helen? What's going on?"

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "Noah's with Penny. I found you in a bedroom closet at the party, and I brought you home. And no, we did not have sex."

You took a deep breath and nodded, your eyes catching on your purple crown where it seemed to have taken up permanent residence on Bradley's bedpost. "I can barely remember what happened," you whispered, studying the crown. "Were you out last night when I called you?"

"No," he replied easily. "I was right here. Alone in my bed. Thinking about you. Hoping you'd give me a chance to explain what happened."

You looked at him. "You were thinking about me when I called you?"

Bradley nodded, his big, brown eyes studying your face. "I'm usually thinking about you, Princess. You and Noah, all day long."

When you whimpered, you saw Bradley's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His hand was resting palm up on his bed, patiently waiting for you to take it. But you couldn't. You just honestly could not.

"You wanna talk?" he asked you softly. When you nodded, you watched him climb out of bed and pick his undershirt up off of the floor and put it on. You were still teetering on the opposite side of the bed, unsure about what you even wanted to say to him. But he eased himself back against the headboard and never pressured you to move.

"Where's Helen?" you asked softly, turning to face him.

"I have no idea," he replied, his gaze fixed on you. "I haven't seen her since she left my living room about five minutes after you did on Thursday night. And I'm not dating her. I'm not dating anyone. I'm not going on dates. You are the only one, Princess. And I promise you, there would be a title attached to us right now if I were allowed to have what I want." He inhaled and exhaled slowly before he added, "I think you need some sort of reassurance here. Right?"

You nodded again as he ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned a little closer to you, and you weren't sure you could take much more. You felt tired, confused, wrung out. Half of you wanted to ask him to take you home, the other half wanted to pull him close and never leave.

But then he simply said, "I love you."

His words hung in the air between you both, like something physical he wanted you to hold. You looked down at his hand, still resting on the bed and then you looked back at his gorgeous face. "What?" you whispered so softly, you weren't sure you really said anything.

"I love you, Princess," he promised in his deep, steady voice that made you feel so comfortable. "And I should have been honest with you from the first time you watched Noah. Because I've been falling in love with you since then. I didn't need to go on any of the app dates. I didn't need to waste my time or yours. Jake was right about you. I should have made things official ages ago. Should have had you on display for everyone to see how much I love you."

When you said nothing in response and just gaped at him, he started to pull his hand away from you. Oh how badly you wanted to reach for him!

"Nothing is going on with Helen. I barely know her. She works for Penny. And I guess," he started, shaking his head and looking down at his hands, "she's been interested in me. She got Penny to set up a date on Thursday night. Penny lied to me when she told me she and Mav wanted to meet me for dinner."

"What?" you asked, eyes going wide. That didn't sound like Penny at all.

"Don't worry, Penny and I already had it out over the phone. I know she worries about Noah and I being lonely, but she's never going to pull something like that again." He looked at you and shook his head, brow creased like his words physically hurt him. "I just hate that you think you can't trust me now. I promise you can."

Your lip was shaking as more tears filled your eyes. You brushed them away before they could fall, and then you crawled across the bed as he opened his arms for you. Bradley wrapped you up tight against his warm body and you settled on his lap like this was where you belonged. He kissed your forehead softly and rubbed your back through his sweatshirt.

"You feel like telling me why you went to that shitty party last night?" he asked in his Daddy voice, sending shivers through your body.

Your face was buried against his scarred neck, and your voice sounded tiny as you admitted, "I was trying to forget about you."

"I don't like the sound of that," he said, his voice getting a little gruff while his hands remained soft. "You promised me no more college boys, remember?"

"Never again," you swore. Then you kissed him once on his jaw. "You saved me. You came when I called you."

His arms tightened around you as he whispered, "I always will."

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Princess, forgive Daddy! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 22

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cowpokeomens · 1 year ago

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Blood Born

Hi hello! Sorry I disappeared, life has just been happening lately no matter how much I tell it not to. Anyways, below the cut you'll find Noah Sebastian with a mysterious secret doin the nasty bc I'm nothing if not a monster fucker.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of weapons, dirty nasty p-in-v smut, Noah's monster cock (canon), praise kink, there's some biting too. I think that's everything but I'm really tired so if I missed something, let me know! Enjoy!

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New Orleans had always been one of Noah’s favorite cities.

He’d been partial to the French, anyway. Liked the way they baked absurd little confections, the way they fucked without remorse- the way they’d put each other’s head on a pike just to get a leg up in court. He’d been fortunate enough to be endowed with a pretty face, and there were few things the French liked more than that.

Which is where he found himself now, walking through the French Quarter, looking for dinner. There were approximately a million restaurants with old signs beckoning him inside, but Noah had lost a taste for that kind of food long before he stepped foot in this city.

He smelled you before he saw you.

It was the off season, if such a thing existed for a city like this. You were bundled up in a jacket, hurrying through the streets. It was chilly, even for this time of year, the wind making its way through your hair to whip in every direction. That must have been what blew your scent his way, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and an uninterrupted heart beat almost making him stiffen up where he stood, across the street from you. He mourned your scent as you ducked into a building, trying to escape the chill. You didn’t reek of alcohol the way most people in this area did- if he had to guess, he’d say you probably hadn’t had anything stronger than a glass of wine tonight. The thought of how that would taste had him darting across the nearly empty street to follow you into the building quickly.

He didn’t get a good meal often. The drunken strangers he usually managed to entice sated him in the way a pint of blueberries would satisfy a black bear. It was hard to find a sober person who would let you bite them, and the ones who did come along were, well, strange to say the least. As if he had any moral high ground.

The inside of the building was warm, dimly lit. He spotted you immediately, in a far corner by the bar, alone.

Blessed be to the old gods and the new. He thought to himself. He wouldn’t even have to lure you away from a group. He could easily seduce an individual, but multiples were hard when he was hungry.

He made his way over to where you sat, sitting around the corner so he could face you, but not be in your personal space. “Whiskey neat, please.” The bartender nodded once, pouring something foul and cheap-smelling into a glass with an ice cube. Noah fought back a grimace at the stench.

“Oh, come on, Remy, don’t give him the fucking Jack Daniel’s.” A voice called next to him. “If you want to cheap out, do Crown. Who the hell voluntarily drinks Jack?”

Noah slowly turned his head to where you sat, frowning at the bartender, who was rolling his eyes in return. He did remake Noah’s drink though, with something decidedly more palatable.

As he sat the drink down and walked to another patron, Noah turned to you. “Thank you. I was having a difficult time coping with the thought of that on my palate.”

You flashed him a grin. Briefly, he wondered what it would feel like to breathe again.

“No worries. Remy likes to give the tourists the bottom shelf shit, but you seem like the sort of guy who knows his whiskey.” You took a small sip of your wine, something deeply red that made Noah shift in his seat ever so slightly.

He inhaled once. “Grenache?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know your wines, too. How could you tell?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Lucky guess.”

You cocked your head to the side curiously. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I’ve never been here before.” Noah responded, emotionless.

“January is an odd time to visit for someone who’s never been here before.” You prodded further.

Noah couldn’t fight the smirk on his face. “Must you always play with your food?” Jolly had sighed once. “Maybe if I had a better tour guide, I would know that.”

He turns to look at you know, registers every emotion that crosses your face. Your pupils widen noticeably, your back going a little straighter. You were making this too easy for him.

“You’re in luck, I happen to know a gal.” You’re beaming at him- a sweet, lopsided grin as you take a gulp of your wine and introduce yourself. Noah watches the movement of your throat as you do so, responding with his own name. He takes a moment to drink you in.

Your jacket is gone now, but you’re still wearing a sweatshirt for a school he’s never heard of (Which, to be fair, is most of them.) Dark jeans cling to your legs where they sway idly from the barstool, your feet not touching the ground. Your hair has been pulled away from your face, but a few wisps escape and kiss the sides of your cheeks. He realizes, almost startled, that you’re beautiful.

A dignified kind of beautiful, not the otherworldliness that his kind manages. He knows he’s attractive, but it’s the same kind of beauty that humans see in tigers, snakes- A warning sign, a mark of predation. The kind of beauty you admire from the other side of bullet proof glass.

You, though- you’re so warm. He can feel your warmth, even from over here. It transcends physicality; Warmth that is visceral, in your eyes and your lips and the scrunch of your nose reacting to the cold.

“Hey, you okay?” Your soft voice shakes him out of his thoughts. “You looked sad.”

His eyes lock with yours, finding such human concern that if he could have wept, he would. You looked like you cared for people. He had not been cared for in a very long time.

“Yes, sorry. Zoned out for a second there.” He quickly finished off his drink. “I would love to take you up on that offer, though. It would be nice to see the city from a local’s perspective.”

He was a dirty liar. He knew the earth of this place before the French could even see it from their ships. It was wild then, and wild now- though in different ways. He could see the old wild in the eyes of workers practicing their vaudou and the shadows that lingered at the edge of the swamps surrounding the city. It beckoned, a siren’s call out to the murky depths of the region. Colonizers said they “settled” the territory, but everyone old enough to remember knows that lands like that don’t settle.

He supposed he was, in some ways, a marriage of those wilds. He remembered the things that lurked in the shadows… and now he was the thing lurking in that same darkness, however many lifetimes later.

“You know,” You interrupted his thoughts again, grabbing your coat in the process, “You get this really old-and-wise look on your face when you zone out. Are you thinking about war crimes, or mac ‘n cheese?”

He smiled despite himself. “Mac ‘n cheese.”

You blinded him briefly with a smile in return. He knew instantly that he would regret this, but followed you out the bar nonetheless, throwing a bill onto the counter without looking back.

You walked alongside each other in companionable silence until you spoke up.

“So, what brings you to the city alone?”

Noah smirked at the ground. You didn’t even try to disguise your inquiries. It was refreshing.

“I was supposed to be visiting friends, but they’re not here anymore.” It wasn’t a lie- not the truth, but certainly not a lie.

You frowned. “You didn’t think to check that your friends lived here still before you came?”

Noah shook his head. “I was actually just passing through- decided to stay a few days.”

You nodded, as if his non-answers made any sense. It reminded him of how he would nod at the eloquent words of his elders when he was a child, like pretending he was wiser than he was would somehow allow the wisdom to materialize out of sheer will. A thought occurred to him. “How old are you?”

“Oh, I’m 25.” You responded, turning to cast a glance up at him. “You?”

He found he didn’t want to lie to you. “Older than you.” Was the answer he settled on.

You snorted, surprising him. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Come on man, that’s like, the most ‘Guy Older Than 27’ thing to say.” You rolled your eyes at him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone rolled their eyes at him.

He grinned anyway, not looking at you. “Fair enough. I am older than 27.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “Why so cryptic? Scared I’ll send you back to the nursing home you escaped from-”

You were cut off as he crowded you up against a wall, staring down his nose at you, arms on either side of your head. “You’re kind of mouthy, you know that?”

“Then shut me up.” Your words were rushed, like they escaped before you could think them over properly. He hesitated for only a second, then leaned in to kiss you.

You bloomed like a flower in spring for him, lips parting in a gasp, chest heaving as color rushed to your cheeks. He felt drunk as his tongue traced your lip, hands coming down to grasp your hips. You parted after only a few moments, breath ragged.

“I live about a block from here.” Your intentions were not lost on him.

He took a step back, gesturing for you to lead the way. You finished your nighttime stroll soon after, quickly pulling out your keys to unlock your front door.

Noah pauses at the door. Some of the superstitions were all too true. You turn around to face him, framed by the light of your entryway.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” You urge him, holding the door open. He lets out a breath he didn’t need.

He follows you inside to the warm interior. He’s taking in your interior decoration choices when you pounce, pulling him to your mouth. He happily obliges, deepening the kiss and wrapping an arm around your back. He felt your hands come up to his chest, pushing him away.

“Did you want to stop-” He began, until you interrupted him.

“No, but thanks. I’m just trying to get us to a flat surface that isn’t my hardwood floors.” You gave him a sly smile, taking him by the hand and tugging him through the house.

His eyes could see in pitch black, but he was still thoroughly impressed by how you could navigate in the dim light. You must have lived here for a while.

You flung open a door with ease, still pulling him behind you. He could see the bed as you shoved him onto it, crawling on top of him. He was grinning as you leaned in to kiss him again-

Then you stopped.

He suddenly realized, not reacting quickly enough as you scrambled off him and flipped on the lights.

“Your teeth-” You began, then froze as you took in the sight of him. He already knew what you were seeing. Blood vessels protruding around his eyes. His irises, sclera- blown pitch black. Cold skin even paler than usual. He could feel them now, behind his lips-

Fangs.

“What the fuck is going on?” You were too calm, given the circumstances, given your words.

Noah could only imagine the look on his face; Shame, embarrassment, regret. “I’ll go-”

“No no no, nuh-uh. You’re going to stay right there and explain what’s going on or I’ll scream bloody murder and Mr. Joe will come over with his 42 and we’ll have real problems.”

Noah stilled, though probably not for the reason you were wanting. “I’m sorry, did you just threaten to shoot me? I grew teeth, I’m a big scary monster, you can’t just shoot-”

“Yes I can! And I will! I’m crazy! I’m not scared of sexy scary monsters, I’m from backwoods Louisiana, pal! I’ve been hunting! I-”

“You think I’m sexy?” Noah could feel his eyes returning to normal as he grinned at you.

“Shut up.” Your voice cracked, betraying you.

Noah stood up, cocking his head to the side. His fangs were retracting now, disappearing from view. He gave you a long look.

You looked pissed, which was new. He was more accustomed to fear, knew how to respond to it, soothe it. You had a glint in your eye that looked different from just anger, almost like-

Betrayal. The earth whispered to him.

He took a deep breath. He could still smell arousal on you. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t… how I wanted this to go.”

“Then how did you want it to go?” You threw back at him.

“I- I don’t know! I thought we could hook up and then I’d leave when you fell asleep and I’d find some rando on the way home and-” He stopped short, unsure of how to continue.

“And what?” You prodded, sounding fearful for the first time that evening. Good. You should be scared. He was a monster- an old one. For all you knew he ate virgins and burned down villages.

He looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “And… drink their blood.”

You exhaled, long. “You kill people to eat?”

His neck snapped up at you. “No, no! Oh my god, no. Just a nibble and I’m on my way-” He stopped at the giggle you let out. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just,” You straightened your face. “You eat people and refer to it as a ‘nibble?’”

“I don’t eat people.” He deadpanned, giving you a look.

“You just drink their blood.”

“Right.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment.

“So why-” You began.

Noah motioned for you to continue.

You blinked. “Why the fangs, then? If you weren’t going to… y’know.” You averted your gaze.

A movement Noah quickly mirrored. “Oh, um. It’s like- an arousal thing. Pretty girl kisses me, fangs pop out.”

You were looking at him again. “You think I’m pretty?”

He met your eyes. “Yeah. Prettiest thing I’ve seen so far, and I’ve been around for a while.”

You took a slow step towards him. “How often do you eat?”

“Um, once a week, if it’s good. Maybe twice if it’s not.” He responded automatically, trying not to think about how bizarre this conversation was.

Your head tilted slightly. Another step. “How long has it been? Since you’ve… fed?”

He was watching you carefully now. Then, very quietly, he said “Two weeks.”

Something like concern flooded your eyes, and you almost winced at him. “That’s a long time to be hungry.”

He could see your jugular on your neck, pulsating with life. He said nothing in response.

You took another step. “Would it help if you… fed on me?”

He looked at you sharply, processing your words in seconds. “No.”

“Why not?” You countered, cocking a brow.

Why not? The earth whispered at him again, voice a caress in his ear. He could smell you- Alive, fresh and-

Fertile. The familiar voice supplied. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. I’m not going to tell her she smells fertile, he retorted.

“You can’t think of a good reason.” You assumed, staring almost directly into his silence.

“I could hurt you.” He supplied helplessly.

“And that’s worse than hurting someone else?”

He tried again. “No- it’s not, but-” A deep breath, “I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

You placed a hand on his arm, too warm and too close. “Then I’ll just hurt you back.” You were so close to him, when did you get this close- “You look awfully hungry, Noah.” You murmured, looking up at him through your lashes.

It was impossible for him to misread your body language as his hands came up to grip your hips, tugging you closer to him. He could feel your nipples hardening where your bodies met.

“You can tell me to stop, okay? Whenever you want, just say the word and we’ll stop.” He was panting now, salivating in anticipation as his canines slid back out.

You nodded. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Then you kissed him again, sliding your tongue over his fangs in a move that made him outright moan into your mouth. He scooped you up in what was obviously a feat of superhuman strength, chucking you onto the bed.

He made quick work of your clothes, pulling your shirt over your head in a swift movement that had him pausing to stare. “Blessed be to the old gods and the new.” He breathed, taking in your pert nipples, breasts swaying at his hasty movements. He leaned in, running his tongue from your sternum, up through your breasts, stopping only at your neck. “Do you taste as good as you look, love?”

Your cheeks reddened. “Let’s hope so.”

He grinned, a wicked, awful thing, tugging on your pants until they slid off, leaving you in just your underwear. “Wanna see a trick?”

You did not want to see a trick, you decided as your body betrayed you and nodded anyway.

He came down to eye-level with your mound, slowly and carefully hooking a single fang on the fabric, sliding it directly through your panties until they were completely torn open.

You gaped, unable to form words.

“Sorry, those were cute. I’ll make it up to you.” Noah promised as he spread your legs open for him.

You felt exposed, vulnerable. Your entire body went red as he watched you. He ran a finger up your slit, making your entire body shudder. “Oh? Baby likes that?”

You nodded, blinking rapidly. Noah swatted your inner thigh, not enough to hurt, but enough to get your attention. “Use your words.”

Your cheeks grew even pinker. “Y-yes, I liked it.”

He leaned down, caging you in. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Please.” You whispered. His eyes went pitch black again.

“Good girl, already knows to beg.” He backed off of you, tugging off his turtleneck sweater, revealing a fully tattooed torso. Your mouth went dry at the sight. “Again.” He demanded.

“Please.” You obeyed, still barely above a whisper.

“Prettier.” He demanded again, unbuckling his pants.

“P-please, Noah, please-”

“Almost there.” His pants hit the floor, revealing a pair of equally as inked legs.

“Please, I’ll be so good, Noah, please, let me be good-”

“That’s a good girl, good job. C’mere.” He sat back down on the bed, the outline of his cock clearly visible in his briefs. You wanted to feel, to taste.

You obliged his command, crawling over to straddle his lap.

“Here’s how this is gonna go, pretty thing.” He began, sliding a finger inside of you as he did so. You gasped, latching onto his shoulder for support. “I’m going to get you nice and loose, then you’re going to ride me, like this. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” You stammered as he added another finger.

“Ooh, nice manners.” He praised, dropped a kiss to your jaw. You shivered at his touch. “When you feel like you’re close, you’re going to tell me, and then I’m going to bite right-” he rubbed a small line on the side of your neck- “Here. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded, then remembered to say “Yes, yes, sounds wonderful, sounds amazing, Noah fuck me please-”

He chuckled quietly, lifting you up ever so slightly to align himself where he had pulled down is briefs. “You ready?”

“Noah I swear to whatever gods, old and new- fuck.” Your rampage broke off into a moan as he slid himself into you. His thrusts were short at first, letting you adjust, until you finally sank all the way down.

You were panting when you finally bottomed out. “Big- ‘S so big.” You whined, clenching and unclenching on him involuntarily.

Noah’s breaths were equally as ragged. His hands had come to rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on them. “Whenever you’re ready.” He placed another kiss on your forehead.

You waited another few seconds, then pulled up experimentally. The drag of him inside you had a long moan escaping your throat. You dropped down, gasping, rising up again. You repeated this until you were riding him in earnest, moans and gasps escaping you both.

You didn’t know how Noah was managing to hit that bundle of nerves inside of you every time you sank down, but he was. You draped your arms on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him deeply, fangs tugging on your lip ever so slightly. “You look so good riding my cock baby, look so good with a big cock in you, like you were made for this-” Noah’s profane train of thought continued on until it was white noise in your ears. You registered that your thighs were shaking from the effort, but you couldn’t stop, not when you were so close-

“Close.” You panted. “Fuck, Noah, I’m so close, so close-”

He pulled your hair to the side quickly, teeth lining up with your throat.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-”

The world went white as Noah sank his fangs into your throat and you came, release squirting all over the both of you as your body shook.

You panted as he sucked at your throat, eyes fluttering shut. One of his hands was rubbing at your back, the other snaked around your waist. You stayed like that for a few minutes more, until you almost felt light-headed and he released you with a soft “pop.”

You blinked at him sleepily as he laid you down against your pillow. He stood up, tugging up his boxers and turning to walk away. “Are you leaving?” You slurred, sounding sad even to yourself.

You could hear his little laugh. “No, I’m getting you a snack and some water. I know I’m dreamy, but I can’t have the ladies passing out on me.”

You rolled your eyes as he disappeared, faint clattering alerting you of when he found the kitchen.

When he returned, you were more alert, taking the water and gulping it down. You took a second to look at him.

He was beautiful before, but now- wow.

His hair was silky, skin still pale but not so lifeless. His eyes were richly dark, amusement seeming to dance in them. “Y’know,” You began, “You’re really pretty when you’re not starving to death.”

If he could have blushed, he might have. “Back at you.” Was his response, handing you crackers.

You nibbled on them while he went about dressing himself. “You’re not staying?” You did your best to not sound disappointed.

Noah shot you a smile. “Sadly, no. I have to get back to my hiding hole before the sun comes up.”

You nodded, looking down. “Will I get to see you again?”

“I have a feeling you’ll be seeing entirely too much of me.” Noah responded, sounding amused.

“What makes you say that?” You questioned, confusion written on your face.

“Because you broke the cardinal sin of running around with a vampire.” Noah grinned, looking devious. “You invited me in.”

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #vampire!noah sebastian

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doomhands-jr · 7 months ago

Text

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian X Reader Summary: Noah is a delinquent and you are the pastor's daughter.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist Banner by @flowerynerds

__________

“Why would someone do something like that?” you asked, staring down at the picture on your phone. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” you dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I can only guess that he’s clearly lost and hurting.” You stared once again at the photo displayed across your screen. A black, horned figure stared back at you with the letters HAIL SATA scrawled in red underneath. At least they didn’t finish the last word. Could someone go to Hell for saying that? You weren’t sure. It made you uncomfortable though.

You didn’t like to think about anyone going to Hell. Suffering for eternity with no way out? A lifetime of being burned alive? Your throat started to close up and you knew you had to stop thinking about it too much or you would have an anxiety attack. That happened sometimes when you thought about Hell too much. It’s why you always tried to make sure you were on the right side of the Bible.

“Do they know who did it?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Caught him trying to scale a fence. The paint on his forefinger matched the colors on the wall. He spent the night in custody. They’re asking if I want to press charges.”

“Do you?” you asked.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to negotiate his sentence. Some community service would do him some good, don’t you think?” “I suppose,” you mentioned, not sure where your dad was going with this. “I need you to monitor it.”

“Monitor what?” you said, not quite putting two and two together.

“The community service. Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, shaking your head rid of the thoughts that had crept in. You’d started thinking about Hell again. “Why me?” you asked. “Because I trust you,” he said. You groaned internally. “I need you to witness to this boy. He’s a lost soul and needs to be brought to the Lord. It’s only for a few weeks. Saturday mornings from eight to noon. I know you can do that.”

You sighed. Your father always did this. You were tired of the guilt trips, but they still worked every time. Besides, what’s more important to you? Sleeping in on Saturdays or someone’s eternal fate? You were being selfish. “Fine, but I want a leadership role at the youth center this year.”

“Done. I’ll call you later with more details. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You slumped forward. There goes the rest of your Saturday mornings. They were the only day out of the week you actually got to sleep in, since you had Church every Sunday morning.

At least you’d be working closely with Isaac during the week. You melted a little even thinking about him.

He was the praise and worship leader for the campus youth group, and the most attractive man you’d ever seen. You’d kissed last summer, but haven’t made progress on that front since.

You sighed and fell back into bed, acknowledging that this was likely your only opportunity to sleep in for a while, allowing your thoughts to stay on Isaac and go as far as you could before it turned to lust (a sin).

_________

The chilly mid-October wind sent shivers coursing through you. Three weeks had passed since your dad had informed you that you’d be conducting community service. It was 7:56 AM and you were standing, clipboard in hand, next to the marred wall of the youth center, waiting for the delinquents to show up.

Delinquents, plural. Apparently, they caught the guy’s accomplice with the help of security footage.

“Excuse me, am I in the right place?”

You looked up from the clipboard to see a young man with a friendly smile.

“Name?” you asked.

“Nick,” he answered. You looked down at your clipboard and wrote the time next to his name.

Nick had striking features. He wore a backwards ball cap, a black hoodie, black jeans, and a denim jacket overtop. A nose ring decorated one side of his face. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through a mop of messy brown hair in a way that let you know that he knew it was attractive, before placing the cap back on. He had a friendly, disarming smile that you didn’t expect from a delinquent. It was charming in a sickly-sweet sort of way.

“Good. Okay yes, you’re in the right place. Do you know where the other guy is?” you asked.

“Noah? Not sure. He should be here soon though. He knew we had this today.” It was 7:59. You had to report him to your father if he wasn’t there by 8:00. You sighed. Was it so hard for people to be on time? You arrived to everything at least five minutes early and had no problem with it. It irked you whenever people blatantly disregarded rules, but you supposed you could have expected so much from someone who vandalized houses of worship for fun. In your mind, that was just mean.

Your father characterized him as someone who was just sad and hurting. And maybe he was, but he was also a jerk.

When he still hadn’t arrived at 8:10, you determined he probably wasn’t going to and figured that there was no sense wasting time.

“Okay Nick. You see the buckets and sponges over there? Grab a sponge and start scrubbing.”

“Aye,” he answered and walked off. He was much more chipper than you’d have expected for a criminal. But then again, Jesus hung out with criminals, so they couldn’t be all bad.

You didn’t talk much. Nick got to work quickly and you observed, not knowing what else to do. A semi-awkward silence fell between the two of you and you busied yourself flipping through the pages on your clipboard.

It had all the rules and regulations you needed to follow, as well as the schedule for the next twelve weeks. Nick and Noah were to report to each location by 8:00 AM sharp. Failure to do so would mean another week of community service tacked on to the end of the program. They could potentially shorten their sentence if they demonstrated punctuality and good behavior, but not before they’d scrubbed and painted the wall they’d vandalized.

You’d read through all the instructions several times, yet you still had a feeling you were underprepared for this. Were you really just supposed to watch them? Or were you supposed to help them, too? You deliberated for a while until a deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m here for my community service?”

You were greeted by a tall, slender figure with long brown hair hiding a pair of dark, indifferent eyes. He wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and matching black jeans with rips on the knees. On his arms, you could see a spiderweb of tattoos extending down to his hands and all the way up his neck.

This, you realized, was exactly what you had in mind when you pictured a delinquent. Everything about him whispered ‘danger.’ He wasn’t dressed all too different than his counterpart Nick, but something about the way he carried himself made him seem much darker. He wasn’t the sickly sweet type. If Nick was children’s cough syrup, Noah was arsenic. “Noah?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse. He grunted in affirmation but made no other move. You checked the time. 8:42.

“You’re forty-two minutes late,” you said. He blinked, but didn’t respond any further. “Which means I’ll have to report this.”

He shrugged. “So report it.”

His demeanor wasn’t something you’d ever experienced. In the church, everyone was always friendly and accommodating. It was a stark contrast to his counterpart, Nick, who reminded you of many of your church friends with how willing to cooperate he seemed.

“Well, grab a sponge and get to work, I guess.”

He did exactly that, wordlessly taking his place beside his accomplice. Together they scrubbed, not making much progress overall. It took them the entire session to reach a state where some of the graffiti could be painted over.

As they worked, you observed. For the most part, Noah remained stoic, but every once in a while, Nick would get him to crack a smile, either by flicking water at him to making some humorous comment you couldn’t quite catch.

Noah’s smile, you noticed, changed his face completely. It was much more innocent than you’d expect. It was rare, but genuine when it did occur, which humanized him to a point you were uncomfortable with, considering how angry at the two of them you still were.

“That’s all the time we have for this session,” you said once it had reached noon. “See you next week.” Without even saying bye or offering to help clean up the supplies, Noah dropped his sponge and walked away. Nick was a little kinder, telling you he’d see you next week and placing his sponge back in the bucket.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” you muttered to yourself, and got to work cleaning up the supplies.

_____________

“So what was it like?” your friend Ava asked.

You shrugged in response. “I don’t know. They’re delinquents,” you said. “One of them was fine, I guess. The other was a bit of a jerk. But it was just kind of boring, really. They didn’t talk much. I just kind of watched them work.”

“A jerk how?” she asked. You could tell she was desperate for more information. She’d been hoping to hear an exciting story about how “bad kids” acted, and you got where she was coming from. You’d always been curious, too.

The church elders (your parents included) had always warned you about who to befriend and who to stay away from. These bad kids who go out drinking every night and get themselves into bad situations. In their stories, they always end up addicted to drugs and feeling lost with God in their lives. These were the people who needed to be witnessed to. But how were you supposed to tell them about God if you were also supposed to avoid them? It was all very confusing to you.

Both you and Ava had grown up entirely within the church community. Both of you had gone to private school, and while there were definitely some people there who were more misbehaved than the two of you, there were no real bad kids.

The biggest scandal you’d seen is when you found out Jason Carver had sex with his girlfriend. Which, admittedly, was a pretty big scandal because you were under the impression that everyone in that school had taken their purity vows seriously.

You couldn’t fathom what possessed Jason to commit such an outright sin. You were sure Jesus would forgive him, but seriously. What was he thinking?

Although the boys hadn’t been given quite as many purity talks as the girls had, so that could have had something to do with it. Each of the girls in the school were given a silver ring called a “promise ring” signifying their promise to stay pure until marriage. There was a whole big ceremony, too. Getting your promise ring was a huge deal in school. It was basically a coming-of-age ceremony.

You fiddled with the silver ring still on your finger. Ava had a matching one. You two had also made a friend pact where you’d both stay virgins until marriage. Though you weren’t sure how that would work out, because both of you had plans to marry Isaac and both of you were stubborn enough to hold out for him.

Regardless, the church community was pretty close-knit, and neither of you had interacted much with people who didn’t follow the same code of conduct. You could tell Ava was fascinated by the idea but so far, nothing too exciting had happened.

“Both of them drink alcohol though,” you mentioned. “I overheard them talking about a party they’d gone to the previous Friday, and Noah had mentioned he was really hungover and that’s why he’d woken up late.” He said this only to Nick, not to you.

“Wow. I wonder what that’s like.”

“Ava!” You scolded.

“Oh, whatever. Jesus himself drank wine,” and you just shrugged, because you didn’t have an argument for that. She was right. You supposed drinking didn’t go against the Bible. Just the rules your parents had laid out for you.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to practice,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get to see Isaac.”

You picked up your pace.

____________

Isaac was indeed there, looking very Jesus-like with his long hair in a bun on top of his head and his scruffy face. You supposed that might have been what drew you to him in the first place. He wore loose-fitting jeans slung low on his waist, a pair of Birkenstock sandals, and a plain white V-neck tight across his chest. He had a silver cross necklace that matched the silver purity ring.

Isaac was impossible not to fall for. He played guitar in the worship band, had the voice of an angel, and really practiced what he preached. So much so that it had been him to stop your kiss from progressing last summer, saying he didn’t want to do anything with you that either of you would regret.

A man who protects your purity rather than challenges it? What could be hotter?

“Okay, let’s run through ‘He Reigns’ again,” said Isaac, and he began to strum out the opening lines. Ava was on keys, Darian was on drums, and Josh played bass. You and Isaac sang.

It’s the song of the redeemed

Rising from the African plain.

It’s the song of the forgiven

Drowning out the Amazon rain.

You launched into a harmony with Isaac. This was one of your all-time favorite worship songs. You loved harmonizing with him. Your voices blended together so perfectly that the act felt almost intimate. Sometimes you’d hit a really beautiful note and you and Isaac would lock eyes and it felt like you were singing to each other.

Every night before bed, you prayed that God would bring the two of you together. And perhaps if you were good enough, he would answer those prayers, so you also prayed that He would be with you to help you not sin as much. Anything to improve your chances.

________

Noah was not thinking about his community service tomorrow. Six beers deep, he was only thinking of how he could see Madison Lewis’s nipples through her silky white shirt and that he’d like to wrap his lips around them if he could.

Madison hasn’t let him hit it in a while. Not that he was desperate. He’s had plenty of women since her, and will have plenty of women in the future. But she was always a particularly good fuck. Something about how unashamedly loud she moaned his name—especially when there were people just outside the bedroom door—really sent him.

She’d been making eyes at him all night, and he had a feeling tonight would be his chance if he played his cards right.

He kept his distance from her. She liked to play hard to get but didn’t want someone that simped for her too hard. He’d have to find his moment. If he knew her well enough, she’d get tired of the charade and present an opening to him, and then he’d move in for the kill.

That’s what set Madison apart. Noah was a hunter. He had no problem getting laid on a regular basis, but most women made it too easy. He barely had to show them attention for them to be practically throwing themselves at him. A good fuck is a good fuck, but he preferred a challenge.

Not that she would be super challenging, but at least she understood the game. Fucking her was like playing chess. There was strategy involved and she knew how to hold her own. The better he played, the more rewarding she’d be. She was reliable in that way.

Plus, she was one of the only women who knew what it was. She didn’t linger. She got in and got out without trying to pretend it was something it wasn’t—or worse, trying to force it into something it was never meant to be.

Too many times, he’d bang a girl who had played it cool with him at first, only to get obsessed and practically stalk him afterwards until he was forced to tell her he wasn’t interested. Whoever it was would cry and make him out to be the asshole, when he had been up-front about what he wanted from the beginning. For some reason, they always believe they were going to be the one to change him. They never were.

And okay, he might be an asshole in the fact that he always knows which of them will get clingy. By now, he’s had enough experience to tell. They come on too strong. They give him too many openings, worrying that he somehow didn’t understand what they were trying to communicate if he responded the first time. He got the hint. He just wasn’t interested.

At least he wasn’t interested if there were still other options available. If he got to the end of the night and all the good options had been taken, he’d throw them a bone and give them a good time, fully knowing that he was in for a week or two of headaches after they realized that he wasn’t going to suddenly fall in love.

Madison caught his eye and gave him a once-over. He was in. She turned to climb the stairs, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she walked and he followed, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on a nearby table and following her up.

_________

“Any idea where he is?” you asked Nick.

It was 8:07 and Noah still hadn’t shown up yet. Nick shrugged. “I was with him at Jolly’s party last night, but he disappeared and didn’t come back to our place. My guess is with Madison.” “I don’t know any of those people,” you said.

Nick laughed, showing a charmingly crooked front tooth. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“Why is he going out partying if he knows he has community service in the morning?” you asked.

Nick chuckled as he pried the lid off the paint can. “I’m guessing you don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

“Have you been to a party before?”

“Sure.”

“I mean one with alcohol,” he deadpanned. You blushed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you’ve been to a party, you’d understand why we go even if we have to get up early. That’s the fun of it. You get drunk. You hook up. You meet new people and you suffer the consequences because that’s what life is about.”

“Life is about more than just partying.”

“Something tells me you could use a bit of fun,” he replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, offended.

“Nothing,” he said, now pouring the paint into the tray and swiping his hair across his face. “Just that you seem a little uptight is all.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but you didn’t want to prove him right by getting upset about it, so you said nothing.

Nick sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to become a whole thing. I was just teasing.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, albeit defensively.

“Clearly.”

You sat with his comment for a moment.

“I have fun,” you said.

Nick smiled to himself. “I’m sure you have plenty of fun.”

“I do!” you protested. “Just not the kind of fun that ends up in having to do a semester of community service.”

He chuckled again, the smile not once having left his face. “And yet, here you are, with me.”

You didn’t have a response to that.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You looked up and saw Noah towering over the two of you. “I know I’m late again,” he said. “In my defense I didn’t know that being late meant serving more time.” You noticed the tiniest of lisps sneak out of his mouth on ‘defense’ and ‘serving’ and it further humanized him in a way you wished it wouldn’t.

“You didn’t think there would be consequences?” you asked. He shrugged, removing his hood. His long hair was tied in a bun at the nape of his neck and a deep purple bruise appeared on the skin next to it.

“Shit,” said Nick and gave a low whistle. “Madison?”

Noah nodded without making eye contact with his friend.

“Good for you, man.”

“I’ll remind you that we’re on church grounds. Please watch your language,” you said.

Noah and Nick shared a look that you knew was meant to mock you, but you were adamant. They could behave however they wanted on their own time, but this was your time.

“We were just talking about how Saint Mary over here could use a little fun,” said Nick as he handed Noah a paint roller.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically. “My name isn’t Mary.”

“Might as well be,” said Nick.

At that Noah snickered. “Why does he think you could use more fun?” asked Noah. The fact that this was the first time he was choosing to make conversation with you was not lost on you. And though you knew you’d get teased, it was worth it to establish some sort of rapport, or else how were you ever going to talk to him about God?

“He’s judging me because I’ve never been to a drinking party.”

“A drinking party?” asked Nick. “Did you hear that, Noah? A drinking party!” he said, clutching at his chest in mock scandalization.

You crossed your arms and sucked on your teeth for a moment. “I don’t think you’re the right judge for what kind of fun I should be having, frankly.”

Nick didn’t speak for a second, then held out his hand for you to shake. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Do you attend this church?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” you said. “And it wasn’t cool to vandalize it. It’s really important to me.”

“I stand by what I did,” said Noah.

“Sorry Mary,” said Nick. “Won’t do it again.”

“Again, my name isn’t Mary. And don’t think I’m going to let you off easily. It’s because of you two that I’m roped into doing this for the next however many weeks.”

“They aren’t paying you?” asked Noah.

“No,” you replied, pointing to the wall to refocus them on the task at hand. They picked up on the hint and started working again. “My dad’s the pastor at the church that sponsors this youth center. He asked me to do it as a favor to him.”

“You’re dad’s the pastor?” said Nick, eyebrows lifting up on his forehead. His expression turned unreadable.

“Nick,” Noah said, soft but stern. They shared a look you couldn’t decipher and you sensed the tone of the conversation had shifted to one you weren’t familiar with. Noah looked serious. You couldn’t determine what expression was on Nick’s face. Something hung in the air between the two of you and you had a sneaking suspicion you weren’t going to like it.

________

“A pastor’s daughter!” Nick repeated when they got back to their shared apartment.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Noah.

“A pastor’s daughter, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Whyyyyy?” Nick whined.

“Forget it, man. I’m not doing this with you again. First of all, you have terrible taste. They always get clingy. Plus, we have to spent the next ten weeks with her. If it goes poorly for either of us, it’s going to be awkward.”

“A hundred dollars,” said Nick.

“And second of all,” said Noah, “you’d lose anyway. I already caught her staring at me.”

“Two hundred,” countered Nick.

“That chick is so prude, she wouldn’t open her legs for Jesus himself.”

Nick laughed at the imagery. “She’s kind of cute though, in a mousy, goody-two-shoes, kind of way.”

“Nick, I am begging you. Do not make this some sort of mission to bed her. There are enough prude women out there that offer whatever kind of challenge you’re looking for. Leave this one alone.”

Nick sighed. “You never want to have fun anymore.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “I just have better things to do than to compete for who can bed the pastor’s daughter. Plus, I learned my lesson from last time. Remember that groupie?”

Nick smiled. “Chelsea.”

“Yeah. Her. She wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah but dude, she came to me as a rebound and straight sucked out my soul.”

“You are so missing the point, man. I’m not interested in your games anymore.”

Nick pouted. “You’re no fun. Guess I’ll just have to make it a solo game.”

“Just wait until community service is over, please?”

“No promises.”

Noah sighed and retreated to his bedroom, throwing himself down on the bed and rolling onto his back. Truth be told, he had already thought about what you might look like under your high-necked sweater. Nick was right about you being cute. And he could definitely use a challenge.

Plus it would be the ultimate fuck-you to the church. Sleeping with the pastor’s daughter? Taking her virginity? Corrupting the innocent?

He actually had some level of sympathy for you. Clearly you were raised in a household where you had to subscribe to that shit. You probably never even questioned your devotion to this made-up religion. You’d never been to a party. You definitely had never gone past first base with anyone. You lived life with such rigidity and fear of wrongdoing that you probably never let yourself stray from that tightrope.

He knew it well. He’d been raised in a catholic household by grandparents that had instilled the same kind of fear in him. Luckily, he got out when he was still in high school, but he still remembered what that catholic guilt was like. And what happened when he broke out.

All that pent-up self-control? The sexual shame you were taught to have. He knew what that looked like when it finally burst, and you were in for a wild awakening.

Logically, he knew he should stay away. Let you live your life. He wasn’t responsible for saving you from the church. But another part of him wanted to see you freed and felt like he’d be doing you a disservice by not exposing you to the other side.

__________

“I want to go to a drinking party,” Ava whined.

“Are you serious?”

“What? It sounds like fun. We don’t have to drink. We could just go and have a good time and stay sober.”

“Am I the only one who doesn’t want to risk getting an underage?” The two of you were headed to the World History class you shared on Mondays. She’d been prying you for more information on “the bad boys” as she called them. “And you really want to come home smelling like weed and booze and whatever else happens at those parties?”

“Sex?”

“Ava!”

“I just want to know what life is like on the other side is all.”

You sighed. “We don’t need to know what it’s like on the other side. It’s probably just a bunch of idiots getting sloppy drunk and grinding on each other.”

Ava laughed. “You’re so judgey! God won’t send us to Hell for attending one party.”

“I know,” you said, though your throat tightened infinitesimally at the mention of it, because really, who could know for sure? God could be testing you.

“Just promise me, if they invite you to one, you’ll bring me along?”

You laughed. “I doubt they’ll invite me to one. They seem like they already have all the friends they want.”

“You never know!” she said.

“True.”

Part of you was also curious about what happened at these parties that made them so fun that Noah and Nick still went even when they had to get up early, but another part of you wondered if this was His way of testing your commitment to determine if you were worthy of Isaac.

If it was a test, what would you need to do to pass?

_________

“You’re on time,” you said.

“Who’d have thought?” Noah replied. It was 7:48, and you’d only just arrived at the side when you had spotted Noah walking towards you, long arms swinging casually at his side. He wore a white shirt with a gray hoodie today. You tried to get a better look at the tattoos painting his forearms, but they were so numerous it was hard to identify any specific designs without making it obvious that you were staring.

“Is Nick with you?” you asked.

“He should be here soon. He was showering when I left.”

“Okay. Well, I guess we should get back to work.” Painting had finished last week, so this week, Nick and Noah were to rake the leaves that had fallen on the ground and in the parking lot. Noah got to work immediately and without complaint.

“How was your weekend?” he asked. You were surprised he was actually speaking to you, considering how distant he’d been the past two weeks.

“It was good. Yours?”

“Good.”

The conversation fizzled out before it had a chance to go anywhere. It was awkward being alone with Noah. You were trying to stay polite, but he didn’t give you anything to go on, and you were still so angry with him for what he did to the church.

It was so much easier to like Nick. He was at least friendly with you, which made it easier to forgive him. Plus, he seemed genuinely sorry that he had upset you.

“I went home early last night, like you said.”

“What?” you asked, having not processed the information.

“I went home from Jolly’s party early last night,” Noah said.

“Who is Jolly?” you asked.

“Our friend. He plays guitar in our band.”

“You have a band?” you asked.

He nodded. “We’ve only played basement shows locally so far. Nothing major, but it’s fun.” His lisp came out again and your heart softened towards him just a touch.

“What do you play?” you asked.

“A lot of instruments, but in the band I just do vocals.”

“No way,” you said. “I sing in our worship band.”

A small smile broke out on the corner of Noah’s mouth. “I’m guessing our music is a lot different than yours,” he said.

“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “It’s like…heavier than what you’re probably used to.”

“So like, screamo or whatever it’s called?”

Noah chuckled softly. “Something like that,” he said, focusing on raking up a stubborn clump of leaves.

“So why did you leave early?” you asked.

Noah continued to focus on where his rake met the ground in front of him. “I didn’t want to keep adding time on to the end of my service,” he said.

You laughed, picking a leaf on the ground and twisting it around in your fingers by the stem. “Turning over a new leaf, are we?” you asked. You waited for him to look up and notice the pun. When he did, he stopped raking and stared blankly.

“Did you really just say that to me?”

“I stand by what I did,” you said, echoing his words from last week.

Noah stayed still and silent for a long moment, before nodding to himself, and then quickly, without warning, using his rake to kick up a large pile of leaves in your direction. “Hey!” you shouted, brushing off the leaves that had stuck to your wool sweater. Noah said nothing, turning back to raking. The half-smile never left the corner of his mouth.

Had you misjudged Noah? He had seemed so cold to you at first, but he’d already become much friendlier than he had been that first week.

“So do you think he went back to bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Noah.

You sighed and fell back into the large pile of leaves Noah had been working on. He continued raking, piling the leaves on top of you.

“You know that’s how you get ticks,” he said. You hadn’t thought of that. You jumped up, brushing all the leaves off you and scanning yourself for ticks. You took your hat off to examine it and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Do you see any on me?” you asked.

“Let me check,” he said, and paused raking. You stood with your back to him, feeling awfully short compared to his towering frame. Noah crouched down to peer at the back of your neck. He lightly brushed the remaining leaves from your shoulders, and then you felt his icy fingers on the back of your neck when he pulled your collar out to check.

“Your fingers are so cold,” you said, voice coming out breathier than you would have liked.

“Sorry,” he said softly from behind you. His voice was gentle as he focused. His fingers pushed your hair out of the way so he could see and tingles erupted over the back of your neck. “Forgot my gloves. Hold on.” You felt him pick at something that clung to your hair. When you turned around, he was inspecting a brown speck pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “I think it’s just a leaf. You’re good.” He flicked the speck away and went back to raking. You, however, couldn’t shake the memory of his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“Did you go to church?”

It felt like a loaded question, but you decided to entertain him. You needed something to focus on.

“I did. Why?”

He shrugged, continuing to watch himself work rather than look at you while he spoke. “No reason.”

“Okay then,” you said, guarded.

“Do you go every week?” he asked after a few more moments.

“I do.”

“And do you like it?” he asked.

“Why? You thinking of giving your life to God?” You meant it to be teasing, but it came out more bitter than you intended.

He smiled to himself. “Just curious as to what you get from it. Why you’re so devoted.”

“It’s not all rules and restrictions, you know,” you said, feeling yourself growing more defensive. “It can actually be kind of fun, and pretty meaningful too.”

“If you say so,” he said. “I just don’t see the fun in being told how to live.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” you said. “I like having some guidelines to live by.”

He shrugged, but didn’t say anything else and you fell into an uncomfortable silence.

“It’s not like that all the time,” you continued after a while, watching him rake leaves into a modest pile. “There’s a lot of encouragement. And it can be really rewarding to devote yourself to a greater cause.”

“Seems like a cult to me.”

“It’s not a cult.”

You’d heard the arguments from people before, especially online. Every Atheist you’ve ever talked to does this same dance. They are upset that you believe in something they don’t like and react by trying to disprove God. Each of them brings up their own version of the same argument, all thinking that they, in their brilliance, have somehow got it all figured out and can change your opinion. They never can.

“Do you follow all the rules?” he asked.

“I try to. Why?”

“Just wondering. So you believe everything that the Bible says is true?”

“It’s complicated,” you answered honestly.

“How so?”

This was the part of the conversation you didn’t like. You were well aware the Bible had a lot of contradictions, and you were willing to admit that some of the stuff in there wasn’t realistic, but most people you talked with couldn’t fathom how you still subscribed to an idea that wasn’t completely perfect.

“There’s a lot of great wisdom in the Bible. But it was written by humans, and sometimes humans don’t always do a good job of interpreting God’s will.”

“So how do you know what parts to believe and what not to believe?” he asked.

“I don’t. I just do my best and hope that God will guide me,” you said.

“I guess I can respect that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still think it’s bullshit, but I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I’m not the church.”

“Touche.”

He cracked a genuine smile, and you were caught off-guard by how pleasant it was. It was almost enough to distract you from that horrendous neck tattoo.

Just then Nick came jogging up.

“You’re—,” you began, but were cut off.

“I’m late, I know,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “My bad.”

“Well, grab a rake and get to work,” you said, gesturing to where the other rake was leaned up against the tree.

“So what don’t you agree with?” Noah asked, continuing your conversation from earlier.

“Most of Leviticus is garbage,” you said as Nick fell into line between you and Noah and began raking. “Like, that stuff about women not being able to leave their house during their period? Or not wearing blended fabrics? Ridiculous. I think they were all health codes written for the time.”

Noah nodded. “What about homosexuality?” he asked.

That was a sore spot between you and your church. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” you said. “I think if God is love, then love can never be evil. My father doesn’t exactly agree. We get into a lot of arguments about it. It’s something I feel strongly about and have to pray about a lot.”

Noah nodded. “I can accept that. But the church has still done a lot of harm to that community. They should be held accountable.”

“I agree,” you said, moving out of the way so Nick could rake by your feet. “And some churches do outreach to try to heal some of the wounds. One of our sister churches even goes to the local pride parade every year. And they do fundraising to help with AIDS screening.”

“What about your church?” he asked.

You shifted. “My church still has some learning to do.”

“And do you try to educate them?” he asked. “As a pastor’s daughter, you probably have more influence than most.”

“I try,” you said, starting to feel like you were standing trial. “But I’m just one person. I don’t have as much influence as you’d think. I have hope it’ll get better though. I see a lot of churches moving towards a more progressive stance.”

Noah nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You figured that was about as much approval as you were going to get. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I just can’t get over the whole sex thing,” said Nick.

“Nick.” Noah’s voice came out stern and full of warning.

It took you a few moments to register what he had said. When you did, you inhaled sharply through your nose. Nobody in your social circle ever talked about sex openly, aside from saying how they wouldn’t have sex before marriage. You sensed this conversation could be a dangerous one, but your curiosity was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you’re not allowed to have sex, right?” asked Nick, ignoring Noah.

“Not until marriage,” you said.

“How do you live like that? I could never!”

On the surface level, there was a part of you that was aware that most people in the secular world did not actually wait for marriage, but because you’d been mostly confined to your immediate social circle, you hadn’t actually conversed with someone who was so openly comfortable with talking about sex. You were both intrigued and so far out of your comfort zone that you struggled to keep up.

“I avoid tempting situations,” you said, noticing the hard set in Noah’s jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. His brows were furrowed and he raked slightly more vigorously.

“How do you not get into tempting situations?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. I just…don’t?”

“Do you just…not think about it? What happens when you’re talking to an attractive guy?”

“What do you mean? I just talk. I mean sure, I might get giddy or nervous, but I don’t like…I don’t know,” you trailed off. “What happens to you when you talk to an attractive woman?”

“I honestly don’t know if I should tell you, sweet child. It might be too much for your virgin ears.”

“Gross,” you said.

Nick threw his head back into a big belly laugh, ignoring the rake for the moment. “I can’t help it! I love women. They’re so beautiful and…just…sexy.” He said this while drawing a set of hourglass curves with his hands.

“Can’t you admire them without lusting?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. That’s like asking me not to breathe. What’s the point? I’m not interested in being a masochist.”

You leaned against the brick building and crossed your arms, sizing him up.

“You’re not afraid of the consequences?”

He faced you, leaning on his rake. “Consequences? Like STDs or pregnancy? I’m not an idiot. I use protection.”

“No, I mean. Like. Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell?”

“Hell?” he asked, bewildered. “You believe in that?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah,” you answered. “Don’t you?”

“No!” he said. “I didn’t realize people still believed in that.”

“What about you?” you asked Noah.

“I’m not part of this,” he said, refusing to look up from his rake.

“He knows better,” said Nick.

Noah continued working, but eventually spoke. “I believe it’s something that adults make up to scare children into behaving. Like the boogeyman.”

“It could be real,” you said.

“Doubt it,” interjected Nick. “And if it was, I think it would take a lot more than a few fucks to wind up there. That being said,” he shrugged, and went back to raking, “a life without sex seems pretty hellish to me.”

“Nick,” said Noah with even more bite. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his arms up in surrender. “Just making conversation.” He grabbed his rake and went back to working on the lawn, while you finished out the rest of the shift in relative silence. A strange and curious energy hung in the air between the three of you. It wasn’t a bad energy, exactly, but it wasn’t altogether comfortable.

You reached your hand up to wipe away another leaf from the back of your neck, fingers brushing over where Noah’s had been earlier. The tingles stayed with you throughout the next several hours.

____________

“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a war going on. And it’s not a war of the physical realm. No, it’s a war for the soul of the world,” Pastor Jeremy said, in his stern but somber preacher voice.

This was a common theme for sermons. How there is a constant and ongoing battle for the soul of the world, and how Satan and his army are using every tool in their belt to corrupt the hearts of the innocent.

“It is our job,” he continued, “to make sure the devil doesn’t win.”

A message of evangelism. According to many pastors, it was each of our responsibility to save the souls of everyone else. Church goers do this through all sorts of methods. Missions trips were popular. You’d been on one to Guatemala when you were in high school. A group of students went down to build schools and teach other kids about the gospel.

But lately something had been bugging you about this kind of message. Because what if Noah and Nick were right, and Hell didn’t exist? What if it was just something adults told to children to scare them into behaving?

And furthermore, did that mean that your faith was only present because you were afraid of going to Hell? What would your relationship with God look like if you didn’t fear that fate? Would you have one at all?

These questions weighed on you heavily.

“Hey,” said Isaac, nudging you with his elbow. The sermon had ended, and you’d gotten up and started walking out along with everyone else without fully realizing what you were doing. You, Isaac, and a few other students from the campus ministry usually went out for lunch after church on Sundays.

“Hey,” you said, falling into stride with him as he walked into the foyer.

“What’s up?” he asked. “You seemed a little distracted today.”

It was odd of Isaac to comment on your demeanor. You weren’t used to him paying enough attention to you to mention anything.

“Oh. Maybe I was. I didn’t notice.”

He put his hands in his front pockets and leaned his weight on one hip. He looked good in this pose, and it was possible he knew that.

“Anything on your mind?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”

Isaac seemed to notice the difference in your mood. Normally, you’d be the one asking him all the questions in an attempt to connect.

“I know what it is,” said Ava, sidling up to the two of you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Or should I say who.”

“Ava,” you warned.

“Who?” asked Isaac, his interest piqued.

You sighed in frustration. Ava, for as good of a friend she was, loved involving herself in drama and jumped at the chance to involve everyone else, too.

“Oh, just a couple delinquents,” she said in a teasing lilt.

You didn’t know why you even told Ava about the conversation you’d had with them. You’d like to think she wouldn’t use that information to her advantage, but she hadn’t always been the most reliable friend. Truly, she was as much a friend because of circumstance as she was a friend because you shared any solid connection.

Few people understood what it was like to grow up in a church and be sent to a Christian school. Your graduating class only saw fifteen people. You connected with Ava the most out of everyone, but that didn’t mean you trusted her very much.

And you were right to be hesitant, considering she was currently repeating your private conversation to Isaac simply to gain his attention.

“Is that so?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “And who are these delinquents?”

“You’ll have to ask her dad about that one.”

“I’m not listening to this,” you said. “I have sleep I need to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later.”

Truthfully, it was just an excuse to get away from them and clear your head. As much as you usually craved opportunities to spend time with Isaac, you were not feeling it today.

Ava was right. You were distracted because of a couple delinquents—one in particular—and you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t.

Perhaps this was Jesus telling you that you needed to spend more time with him. Perhaps maybe you’d be the one to guide him towards the light?

On the other hand, it could be temptation from the enemy. In which case, you needed to guard your heart.

The only way to know for sure was to pray about it, which you had been doing in earnest, but there was still no clear answer in front of you.

__________

“So I have a theory,” Nick said softly as he took a break from vacuuming the carpet of the worship center. Noah was across the room, headphones on and head bobbing as he dusted the backs of the chairs. He’d apparently given up on trying to tame his friend.

“And what is that?”

“Okay, so it’s maybe you magically just have an inhuman amount of self-control, and I’m not saying it’s not possible, but I’m willing to bet that it’s more likely you just haven’t been tested.”

“Nick, what are you talking about?” Noah asked from across the room.

Nick placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Our conversation last week,” he said. Noah rolled his eyes and went back to dusting, but he let his headphones dangle around his neck, freeing his ears.

“Okay, and?”

“You say it’s not hard for you to avoid tempting situations, but I imagine you probably don’t get into many with the crowd you run with. Like, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Why is that any of your business?” you said.

Across the room, Noah sighed and padded over to the two of you.

Nick took the tiniest side-step closer to you. “Just making conversation.”

You took a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not to play whatever game this was. On the one hand, it really wasn’t any of his business. On the other, you were interested to see where he was going with this.

“Okay, I’ll bite. I have kissed before.”

“One of the church guys?” he asked, shifting his body to face you more. Noah observed silently from beside his friend.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “At summer camp last year.”

“Who initiated?”

“He did, but we’d been flirting all summer before then.” “And when was this? What happened? Paint me a verbal picture.” Nick was visibly interested, shifting his weight from converse-clad foot to converse-clad foot as he looked at you expectantly. You had to admit that it was kind of cute. Noah remained stoic but attentive.

“It was late August,” you said. “Like I said, he and I had been flirting all summer. It was the last night of camp, and all of the counselors were having an end-of-year party.”

“You were a counselor? Oh man, this is too good.”

“What does me being a counselor have anything to do with it?” you asked.

“Nothing. Keep going.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that you might not even want to know the reason. “So anyway, we take a walk down to the beach. The sun had already set by that point and it was a new moon, so we could barely see anything. We get down to the beach and decide to go for a nighttime swim.”

“Oh, damn,” he said.

“Language,” you said. “We are in a house of God.”

He made the sign of the cross and put his hands together in mock prayer. “Forgive me. Go on.”

You had to admit, it felt good to have someone hanging on your every word like this, even if his motives were less than ideal.

“Okay. So don’t get too excited. We were still wearing our bathing suits under our clothes from the beach game tournament we’d had with the campers earlier that day. But we get in the water, and he’s like ‘where are you?’ because we couldn’t see anything, and I reached out my hand. He took it and pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. Then he said he really enjoyed hanging out with me this summer and asked if he could kiss me.”

“He asked? Ugh,” Nick scoffed.

“What’s wrong with that? It was sweet. He respected me.”

“It was weak,” he replied. “No wonder nothing else happened.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, crossing your arms. You had appreciated that Isaac cared about getting consent before he kissed you.

“I don’t know how to explain this concept,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “Noah? Want to take this one?”

Noah pursed his lips, debating whether or not he wanted to get involved, but ultimately relented.

“It’s like,” he said, “a guy who asks to kiss a woman is kind of a coward. When you really want to kiss someone, you just do it and risk getting shot down.”

The image of Noah, standing in the lake with you instead of Isaac, tattooed hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss flashed in the forefront of your brain before you could shake it away.

“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I always thought it was like, a sign that a guy respects you.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Nick. “It means he’s afraid of rejection.”

“Is that really true?” you asked, looking at Noah.

He nodded. “A guy who respects you reads your body language and understands context. He’d know whether you want to kiss him because he’d pay attention to how you’re acting. You wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.”

“Huh,” you said, processing what he had said. You’d never considered it like that before, but looking back, you had put in a lot of work dropping hints to Isaac, going as far as to make it obvious that you were into him.

“How was the kiss?” said Nick.

“It was nice.”

Nick slapped his thigh and barked out a laugh. Noah cracked his signature half-smile.

“So it sucked.”

“What? No! It was really nice.”

“Trust me,” Nick said. “If it would have been a good kiss, you wouldn’t describe it as ‘nice.’”

“I don’t know if I agree with you. I think a kiss can just be nice sometimes.”

“Yeah, if you’re an old married couple maybe. But it just goes to show that you’ve never actually been properly kissed. And that you don’t know true temptation.”

“I don’t think I like this conversation anymore,” you said. “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“I might be, just a little bit,” he said. You bristled. “And I’m sorry,” he finished. “I don’t mean to make fun of you. I just think you’re missing out on some really important life experiences. And frankly, it’s a shame that the men in your life have failed you so terribly.”

You softened a bit. “I don’t like being mocked, but I suppose you’re right. I do wish the kiss would have been a little bit more…I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“Passionate?” Noah offered. You locked eyes with him and a warmth grew in your stomach. You liked feeling like he understood you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d dreamed my whole life of my first kiss, and when it finally happened, it was exciting because it was Isaac, but—,”

Nick perked up. “Isaac?”

You hadn’t meant to say his name.

“Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Does Isaac go here?” he asked.

“Nick, please. I don’t want any drama.”

“I promise I won’t say anything. I’m just curious.”

“I’m not telling you anything else about him,” you said. “All you need to know is that he kissed me. It was okay. And then he stopped because he didn’t want to get tempted.”

Noah made a face when you said that last part, and you knew there was something behind it, but you didn’t want to ask. He might just join in and make fun of you.

“I’m done dusting,” said Noah finally. “Want me to start on the windows?”

“That would be great, actually,” you said. “Take Nick with you.”

Noah nodded and latched on to Nick’s collar, directing him over to the supply closet where the window cleaner was kept.

You sat on the steps leading up to the alter and crossed your arms over your knees, resting your chin on them.

You were disappointed in the kiss, you realized. They were right, and you hadn’t even noticed until now. After that night, you and Isaac hadn’t spoken about it again. It was as if it had never happened.

You had always surmised you were just better at self-control than your secular peers, and had clung to the identity, basing a level of self-worth on that idea, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they were right about the rest too, and you were missing out on all these important experiences? Were you just naïve?

You supposed that was a good thing. After all, chasing after those experiences could get you in a lot of trouble and lead you down a bad road. But then again, how were you supposed to resist temptation in the future if you couldn’t even recognize it? What would happen when something came along that did tempt you? How would you handle it?

Did you even want to know?

Click here to be added to the taglist!

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction

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thetravelingtyper · 9 months ago

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Miscellaneous Soft! Simon Headcannons!

The album Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan has wrecked my brain So please enjoy!

Masterlist!

Soft Simon likes being within grabbing distance. I feel he always has a hand on you but doesn't want to be overbearing. I think he still has his demons, how can he not, but through love and a lot of work he can manage and accept seeing the face behind the mask. Work yes he has it on 24/7 but Simon, your Simon, tries to keep the bitterness and freeze of Ghost away.

Soft Simon always has a hint of fear of you leaving. You wouldn't of course but there is always that want to run. The vulnerability of pulling down the necessary walls. It comes in nightmares. I think in turn if you suffer from an anxiety disorder (Like I do) he understands your fears, especially if you have trauma. And if you were gone somehow, he would dream of you with a wistful sigh as he tries to go on about his day.

Soft Simon has a dog who happens to love you. Be it you are a close friend or partner. He quietly cherishes you, honey eyes warming to yours as you bury your nose in his dog's fur. I am unsure about children but I could see a healed Simon as a good father.

Soft Simon who chats about you casually to Soap, Gaz, and Price. If you aren't together the boys do their best to push him to confess his feelings. They realized you, independent and gentle would be good for the man. Say you two part ways for honest reasons, he's too dedicated to work per se, his door would always be open.

As you dance the line between friends and something more there are signs. His dog runs to the door, your spare clothes in the guest bedroom, and spare boots are by your door. More intimate? The smell of him on your clothing as he lingers in the bathroom on leave. You're doing your skincare and he leans over you from behind, you huff his arms barring your work so you hand him something to keep him occupied.

Did you get sick? You better believe Simon is there, he lingers like a shadow. Physical? He'll bring you food or make it in your kitchen somehow having learned where everything was. Mental? Simon's been through hell, he understands those demons. He'll pop in over text asking if you took your meds. He keeps a packed kit for you at his place. If there is any anxiety he'll help you work through it.

He will watch if you start to spiral, especially if you are running from something. He is the lighthouse at the port in the storm. He encourages you with a guiding hand and will lead you back home into his arms. It is his hope you choose to stay.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #fanfiction #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 2022 fanfic #soft!simon #simon 'ghost' riley x reader

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sturnsmia · 2 months ago

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𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉… when matt sees his best friend constantly suffering under her boyfriend’s mistreatment, he takes matters into his own hands.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: toxic and slightly abusive boyfriend, murder (in detail), knives, blood, if u don’t feel comfortable do not read!!

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: hi hi! i wanted to post something a little more spooky for halloween but i didn’t finish in time lol, sorry. i hope you guys like it! also send me requests for things to write or just to chat. i lovee responding to anons (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

it was late at night when you were at the triplets house with your friend madison. you guys had spent the night watching movies and catching up with each other after enduring a long week of work. unfortunately you had a whole lot to talk about considering your boyfriend, noah was starting to piss you off.

“i don’t even know what his problem is! one second he’s saying im the love of his life and then two minutes later he’s screaming at me for spending i didn’t do!” you explained to your friends while flailing your hands around in awkward gestures to express your frustration. “and that’s not even the worst part! he had the fucking nerve to grab my wrist when i tried to walk away from him! and it wasn’t a gentle touch it was like this.” you reached to your right and grabbed matt’s wrist before gripping it harshly, causing him to pull away. you whispered a little sorry and shot him a quick smile.

“what the hell! that’s not okay, why the fuck would he do that?” chris questioned with a mouth full of popcorn.

“ugh i have no idea its so stupid the way he’s acting.” you groaned, leaning your head back on the couch.

matt clenched his jaw at the thought of your boyfriend laying his hands on you. he never liked noah from the start, not that noah enjoyed his presence either. noah constantly complained that matt had feelings for you and that it was obvious to everyone. whenever he brought it up you defended your best friend, explaining that you and matt have known each other since the two of you were kids, and you’ve always hung around the triplets. regardless of your constant reassurances, noah never attempted to make amends with matt.

“honestly y/n, that’s so fucked for him to do, and you need to stand up for yourself and set boundaries! don’t let him push you around.” madison spoke from the other side of the couch beside nick, who nodded in agreement to her statement.

you sighed, thinking about the possibilities that could happen if you talked back to noah. he definitely would not take it lightly.

“maybe you should just break up with him.” matt spoke with nonchalance. your head snapped to look at the boy who just spoke utter nonsense. “you’re funny matthew.”

“i mean this isn’t the first time he’s done something shitty to you. it’s clearly hurting you physically and mentally, so why not just let him go?” matt shrugged turning towards you.

“because i love him, matt. just because he does a couple things i don’t like doesn’t mean we have to break up.” you spoke with slight annoyance in your tone. nick, chris, and madison exchanged awkward glances, avoiding getting involved.

matt sighed, connecting your hands together and rubbing it softly with his thumb. “i know, i didn’t mean it like that, i’m sorry. we all just want you to be happy.” chris nodded his head before shoving another piece of popcorn in his mouth.

nick stretches his arms dramatically before yawning. “okay it’s pretty late, we should get to bed. y/n i know you’re staying the night, madison do you wanna stay too?”

“i would but i have to get up early for a meeting tomorrow so i have to head home now.” madison said while collecting her purse from the ground. “i’ll miss you.” you frowned, pulling her in for a hug.

“y/n we’ll see each other again in like two days.” madison laughed as she hugged you, rubbing your back softly. “bye boys, i’ll see you guys later! love you!” she smiled, walking down the stairs and out the front door.

as you heard the front door slam shut, you and nick stood up from the couch and started walking towards the stairs before matt gently pulled your wrist back. nick continued walking up the stairs as you stopped.

you turn around, staring at his icy blue eyes. “yeah?” you asked softly. matt brushed a piece of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. “make sure that little idiot boyfriend of yours doesn’t touch you like that again or i’ll have to go pay him a visit, alright?”

you giggle softly at his statement considering he always jokes about putting noah in his place. “alright mr tough guy don’t go around hurting people now.” you murmured, pushing your finger to his chest. “goodnight matt” you said gently, a warm smile spreading across your face as he shooed you away to nick’s room.

“good night angel” matt replied back as you made your way up the stairs.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

the next day you woke up around 11am and ate breakfast with the triplets before returning to your own apartment. you twisted the doorknob to your front door open and quickly dumped your purse lazily on the floor before flopping down face first onto the couch. you laid there until you heard a notification chime and looked up to see your phone.

it was a text from noah telling you he was coming over because you had abandoned him last night for matt. you roll your eyes at his snide remark before tapping your fingers on your phone to reply a quick “okay”.

you got up from the couch and walked over to the bathroom to clean yourself up a bit. you brushed out the small tangles in your hair and open the drawer to take out a tube of mascara and an eyelash curler. leaning over the counter towards the mirror, you brushed the mascara wand over your lashes. you swapped out the mascara for your space camp cherry flavored lip balm and swiped it across your lips. after putting everything back in the bathroom drawers you left the bathroom and went to your room searching for a comfortable outfit. you settled on navy blue sweatpants and a lacy white tank top.

as you finished changing you heard a loud knocks coming from the front door, alerting you that your boyfriend had arrived. you quickly walked to the front door and opened it to reveal noah looking slightly irritated when he saw you.

“hi baby!” you smile warmly at him and pull him in for a hug. noah wraps one arm around your shoulder and pats your back softly. you pull away after noticing he’s not acting normal. “is everything alright?”

“yeah i’m fine.” he responds dryly. your eyebrows furrow showing your confusion, noah notices and realizes your not satisfied with his answer. “you couldn’t have maybe put yourself together and looked a little nicer for me before i got here?”

the smile from your face drops immediately, turning into an fustrated and slightly embarrassed look. noah shut the door behind him and sat down at the table in your kitchen, waiting for you to move from the front door.

“are you being serious?” you murmured, keeping your eyes on the door and avoiding eye contact. “what?” noah’s face twisted in slight annoyance at your sudden attitude. “you’re telling me that you’re in this “mood” all of a sudden that causes you not to give your girlfriend a hug or kiss when you see her? all because i don’t look pretty enough?” you say sternly, attempting to hide the hurt in your heart.

noah quickly stood up from his seated position, the wooden chair he once sat on tumbling to the floor with a loud bang. your eyes finally turned to him and see his jaw clenched and his eyes burning with fury. “now i don’t know what those sturniolo boys got into your head, but i’m sure not liking this bitchy attitude you got goin’ on.” noah sneered, shaking his head in disapproval.

you scoff at him, he always found a way to blame this on them. “this has nothing to do with them. you can’t say some bullshit to me and expect me not to say something back!” your tone starting to raise. “woah there! don’t mess with the tough girl here, all high and mighty!” noah said sarcastically, raising his arms up for dramatics.

“you’re so fucking immature!” you yell at him with tears starting to well in your eyes. the look in his eyes immediately made you regret your sudden outburst, your heart sunk to your stomach. noah slowly walked towards you. “what the hell did you just say to me?”. you swallowed hard and fidgeted with your fingers, out of instinct you turned to the front door and grabbed the handle. before you could open it, noah put his hand on your shoulder and harshly turned you around, pushing your back to the door.

“i asked you a goddamn question!” he spat, his grip remained tight on your shoulder as he kept you pinned against the door. tears started to fall from your eyes as you clenched your jaw and kept a stern look. “get off me.” you muttered. noah kept his eyes on you, his rough hands gripped even tighter on your bare shoulder. you pushed him back, causing him to release his grip. before he could say anything you turned away from him and raced out the front door.

you ran to your car and slammed the door shut. at this point the emotions you had hiden came crashing down as you drove through the neighborhoods. wiping your tears and sniffling at every red light, you drove as fast as you possibly could to the only faces you wanted to see.

after parking your car, you walked quickly to the front door slightly shivering from the breeze considering you didn’t get to grab a sweater before you left. you knocked loudly on the door impatiently waiting for someone to answer.

chris opened the door with a bright smile on his face before seeing your teary and red eyes. “hey, what’s going on?” he asked softly. you couldn’t even respond before you latched onto him for a hug as broken sobs escaped your throat. “oh no. hey shhh it’s okay don’t cry, don’t cry.” chris held you tight and stroked your hair gently before matt and nick walked down the stairs to see what had taken their brother so long to answer the door.

“y/n, sweetheart let’s go upstairs to the living room okay?” nick whispered softly. you looked up from chris’s chest to see nick and matt with worried expressions plastered on their face. nick took your hand and interlocked them before leading you up the stairs and onto the couch. he sat down next to you as you rested your head in his lap. matt and chris followed behind the two of you and took a seat beside nick.

“tell me what happened y/n, did you get hurt? do i need to kill someone?” nick asked, rubbing your shoulder. “it-it was noah” you choked out with a sniffle. “he came to see me and, he got upset with me because he said i didn’t look nice enough for him when he came over.” matt’s anger started to bubble up just hearing noah’s name. “i yelled back at him and told him he was being immature. and when i tried to leave but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me against the door. i had to push him back before he finally let go.” you rambled, tears falling from your eyes.

matt’s jaw hardened after hearing what noah had done to you. he gave chris a hard stare before they both stood up and walked down the stairs without saying a word. “wha-where are they going?” you asked, sitting up and turning to nick. “don’t worry about it, let’s get you cozy and do something to get your mind off that brainless boyfriend of yours.” nick suggested with a smile, wrapping a fuzzy blanket around your shivering bare shoulders.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

matt’s gripped the steering wheel of his car so hard his knuckles were almost white. he couldn’t believe that your idiotic boyfriend would ever think it’s okay to lay his hands on a women, especially you. you always found a way to forgive noah for his mistakes because of your kind heart. the thoughts coursing through his mind made the drive to noah’s house a fast ride. he already knew the directions from previous occasions when you had asked matt to drop you off there.

“you don’t need me to come in do you?” chris asked as matt jumped out of the driver seat. he grabbed a small object out of the side door and looked up at his brother. “no, i’ll be fast.” matt responded slamming the door shut and walking up to your front door. he twisted the door knob and pushed it open using his shoulder. noah looked up from his phone and stood up from his spot on the couch, looking at matt.

“dude what the fuck?” noah sneered, looking confused at the loud noise coming from the front door. until he recognized the face that was staring back at him. “matthew sturniolo, what brings you here today?” his face twisted into a cocky smile.

“do you find pride in hurting your girlfriend?” matt said through gritted teeth. noah laughed from across the room “what’d she tell you now, that i’m abusing her? god she’s so full of lies.” matt slammed the front door shut before taking slow steps towards noah.

“i won’t ever understand how she fell in love with such a lowlife like you.” matt scolded, keeping intense eye contact with the boy in front of him.

“what? you jealous i get to fuck her instead of you? get over yourself, she’s mine.” noah teased, a grin present on his face. matt scoffed and reached into his pocket, he was sick and tired of the way your boyfriend treated you like an object and constantly put you through so much pain.

“i never liked you from the start. i always knew you would be a shitty boyfriend. but y/n always finds a way to see the good in people, even the most insufferable people like you. and i won’t let you take advantage of that.” matt fumed, pulling his hand out from his denim pocket. noah’s eyes widened at the pocket knife in matt’s hand. he stepped back but was met with a wall behind him, he had nowhere to run.

“woah man let’s just talk this out i can-“ matt didn’t let him finish talking before piercing his stomach with his knife. noah let out weak groans before matt retracted his hand, releasing the blade from his lower abdomen. in a swift motion matt struck him again and again, watching the knife go through his chest. over and over and over again.

noah’s body quickly fell limp underneath him. matt crouched down, using the carpet to wipe the blood off his pocket knife before clicking it shut and placing it back into his pocket. matt stood back up looking down at the lifeless body beneath him, a smirk creeping on his face.

“she’s always been mine.”

xoxo, mia ♡

#writings ࿐໋. ݁𝜗𝜚 #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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nocofamilyau · 5 months ago

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I LOVE UR STUFF OHMYOGD IM UR BIGGEST FAN

1. since its summer do they go on family vacations...

2. how do mikes classmates/the other parentd react to him havinf 2 dads

3. can we see how/why noah and cody decided to adopt mike dave and raj.. like their upbringing..

They don’t do anything too elaborate, maybe the occasional day trip to the woodsy area/lake near where they live, simple lil trips like that, but they’re saving proper vacations for when the boys are all a lil older and money is way easier to keep (that and travelling with a baby, a kid who absolutely loses it at the drop of a hat and another kid who has a complex mental condition kinda sounds like hell, don’t think anyone would come out of that experience happy)

Yea, most of em are cool with it, I mean they live in Canada where they’re much more accepting, they just treat Mike and his parents like any other family (shit, I think some of Mike’s classmates might also have gay parents too…)

This is kinda harder to answer, but you'd think that Noah and Cody (especially Noah) wouldn't really be the type of people to want kids, but plot/au needs to happen so for the sake of it,, I'd say for both they just felt it was just the next natural step in life (it'd also give them something else to focus on instead of the crushing internal turmoil that C-list stardom during your youth brings you). To get more specific, Noah probably already thought about wanting kids when he was still with Emma (and he'd probably be more used to it given he lived with several older siblings, and possibly dealt with multiple younger cousins, nephews and nieces at it too) while Cody would probably want to prove to himself that he's much more capable than his parents (particularly his father) in terms of loving something.

Besides, most of their time as parents has boiled down to 'fuck it, guess we'll do this now'. Like I mentioned this before, but they only wanted to adopt one kid and keep it at one kid in the beginning. And while they (mainly Noah) both wanted kids, it does make sense that they chose to adopt an older kid than raise them right from the start. Like yea this kid may have mental problems but at least we won't have to deal with sleepless nights and no time to ourselves and constant screaming and crying and shitty diapers and all that stuff (and then fucking Dave comes along and just throws a massive curveball into that plan but they got through it the best they could, so much so that they're confident enough to handle ANOTHER baby, or whatever comes over parents to make them want another kid)

#noco family au #noco lore #thanks for the ask!#multiple asks actually

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1toreyouapart · 21 days ago

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What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

Masterlist

11-Noah

Everyone's chatter and laughter in the living room drowned out the doubts circling in his head. What if he wasn't able to fix what he had broken? Or what if she just told him to fuck off and leave her alone? Was he even capable of being a better person? Or was he always going to keep making the same mistakes?

Shaking his head as though to shake off the thoughts he picked up Lily's water, the entire reason he was even in the kitchen, and headed back for the living room. Sometimes his brain could be a real bitch. Here he had everything he could want, well, almost everything, and his brain was going crazy on him. Everyone was together again, Lily was spending more and time there and with him in general. But yet those old worries were back and wearing a new face.

Slightly annoyed he dropped back down in front of her, passing the glass of water up to her. Her free hand lightly scratched his scalp in thanks and he had to fight the urge to just lay his head in her lap. He was grateful, thrilled even, that there was a group hangout happening again. But he wished like hell that it was just the two of them. Everything made more sense when it was just them.

The other day they had quite literally spent the entire day laying in his bed binge watching Supernatural, her favorite show. For hours they had laid there, talking, laughing, only untangling themselves from each other when necessary. Everything had made perfect sense then. But now? Surrounded by all their friends? Where he couldn't hold her and kiss her like he wanted? He had to settle for sitting near her or at her feet so that Sadie, who sat happily perched in Jolly's lap, didn't freak out and start asking questions. Questions neither of them knew the answer to.

"Noah?" Lily's voice cut through the noise in his head. "Why don't we trade spots? You've been on the floor all afternoon."

"Nope. You getting hungry?" He asked, avoiding the real question. She'd picked up on his tension. Damn it.

"I'm okay." She answered simply before getting up off the couch. "You're obviously uncomfortable. Get up there."

"No. I'm fine. You sit there."

Lily simply rolled her eyes, passing her water off to Sadie who watched them, eyebrow raised. Great. Just what he needed. Now Sadie would be on a mission to corner him and drill him about everything. And judging by the look she was currently giving Lily, her too.

She stepped between his legs, forcing them open to make space for her as she sat down, her back against his chest. Sadie passed the water back to her, shooting him a pointed look. All he could do was nod his head towards her and let Lily settle into him. So much for avoiding the questions.

Her hand rested on his thigh, squeezing. A small comfort in the battle being waged inside his head. All he wanted was for everything to be exactly as it had been. To be able to hold her the exact way he had before. To not care who was watching. Lily shifted, twisting and lifting herself to whisper in his ear.

"You're tense. Are you okay?"

All he could do was nod, not daring to say anything. What would he say? That he was terrified of fucking whatever this was up? Or that he wanted everyone to go away so that it was just the two of them?

“You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered, settling back into her spot.

Lilith’s hand slowly traveled over to his where she began lightly tracing the tattoos there. Something she had done any time he was anxious before. It gave him something to focus on rather than the thoughts swirling in his head. Slowly the raving thoughts stopped and his body started to relax, his breathing beginning to slow. Just as slowly as she had traced the artwork on his hand she slid her hand under his, palm up, and intertwined her fingers with his.

“You two are awfully cozy,” Sadie quipped. Though there was no malice in her voice. Instead her gaze was soft as she watched them.

“We’ve decided we can be friends.” Lilith shrugged against him, her voice calm and even.

“Babe, their business is their own,” Jolly interjected.

“I know. I’m not saying anything bad. Just an observation.”

Sadie’s eyes landed on his, and while she seemed pleased, there was a silent warning hidden there. One that said don’t fuck up again.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #angst #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian fic #fluff #noah sebastian fluff

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dsireland86 · 3 months ago

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The Fight

The tears won't stop. No matter how many stupid deep breaths I take, no matter how many times I wipe my eyes. The damn things keep coming. I place my hand over the stinging red mark on the side of my face, the spot where my boyfriend slapped me moments ago. He saw the message on my phone and accused me of cheating on him; with my best friend. I told him he's fucking crazy and that earned me the slap.

I'm shaking as I walk up the pathway to the front door, trying to keep myself together. I know once I get inside, into my friends arms, everything will be better.

I press the doorbell and wait. The door swings open, revealing an annoyed looking Noah.

"Why are you ringing the doorbell? I thought we had this discussion already?"

I shrug my shoulders without looking up.

"Oh no, don't tell me he hurt you again? Wait, did he hit you!"

Noah sighs and pulls me by the sleeve of my hoodie into the house, closing the door behind us.

"Look at me," Noah demands.

"It still hurts like a motherfucker. I don't know if the red mark is still there, though," I sniff, finally able to control my tears.

"Yeah," Noah replies, turning my head a little, "it's still there. Folio is going to lose his shit!"

"FOLIO! YOUR BFF'S HERE! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" Jolly yells up the stairs before turning to me.

"Damn," he states, shaking his head and reaching over to caress my damp cheek. "What the hell is wrong with that shit-head?"

Tears well up in my eyes, and I grimace at the sting of their saltiness running down the side of my face.

"Okay, it's alright, come here," Jolly sighs, pulling me into his embrace and caressing the back of my head. I bury my face in his chest until I hear the sound of Folio's feet coming down the stairs.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asks, voice filled with worry.

"Take a guess," Noah answers, still annoyed.

"Oh no, again? Fuck!"

I feel Folio’s hand on my shoulder, and I immediately release Jolly, only to turn around and fall right into the arms of the only guy who knows how to heal my heart. I start to sob, and Nick lets me, wrapping his strong drummer arms around my waist as I lock mine around his neck.

"Shhh, it's alright. I've got you. You're safe now."

I melt into Folio's words, trusting and believing him completely. I'm thankful for his friendship and comfort. I'd be lost without it.

"Nick," I mumble against his neck.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I'm so tired. Can we go somewhere and lay down for a minute? I can't think straight."

"You got it, doll," he agrees, scooping me up bridal style like my weight is nothing to him.

I throw my arms around his neck and snuggle into the comfort of his embrace, thankful I have such a great friend like Nick who cares about me the way he does.

We enter his room and the light smell of weed mixed with his cologne and natural scent engulf my senses. I take a deep breath, breathing in as much of Folio as I can. Sighing, he lays me down in his bed, removing my shoes and socks before turning the blankets up over me. His scent surrounds me, making me safe, protected, and... loved.

My eyes fly open at the thought of that word to describe mine and Nick's relationship. There's no chance he would ever feel that way about me, so why would I let my mind wander in that direction? Do I want him to feel that way about me? Do I even feel that way about him? My heart his pounding at the what I might be confessing to myself.

"Relax," Folio says, brushing the loose hair out of my eyes. I looked up at him through sleepy eyes, seeing he's already staring at me. He smiles softly, then leans down and places a soft kiss on my forehead. The feeling of his warm lips on my skin does something to me like never before, and the way he lingers a little longer than normal has my heart racing. There have been plenty of forehead kisses in the past. Why does this one feel different? I close my eyes, suddenly too sleepy to care.

Folio stays a little while as I drift into a semi-sleep. I feel the bed shift as he gets up to leave, making me panic at the thought of his absence. I don't know why I'm suddenly too scared to be alone. "No, don't leave, come back; stay with me, please," I plead through a groggy voice.

"I thought you were asleep," Nick sighs, sitting back down next to me. I hum in response. "I don't know what means," he mumbles, climbing over top me and on to the other side of the bed. Instinctively, I roll over to face him. He's flat on his back, with his left arm tucked beneath his head and the other one resting on his chest. He looks at me, and even through sleepy eyes, I can see the slight gleam in them. My heart flutters. Folio pats his chest and then opens his arm to me, indicating he wants me close. I'm so tired that I don't even think twice about scooching closer, finding the perfect spot in the nook of his shoulder. I rest my head on his chest and cuddle into him like he's my own personal teddy bear, sighing loudly and relaxing fully for the first time since the fight. He chuckles as I get comfortable and throw a leg over top his. He makes no effort to move me or push me away, but instead squeezes me tighter and kisses the top of my head. He takes my hand that's lying on his chest, brings it to his lips, and begins to softly kiss each one of my fingers. The feeling is incredible. I turn my face up to look at him.

"You're pretty endearing when you're half asleep. Why can't you be like this more often?"

"Shut-up, Nick!" I scold him, poking my finger in his side and earning me a grunt followed by a chuckle.

We're both silent for moment, basking in the feeling of our bodies being this close together for the first time ever. Folio continues to kiss the tips of my fingers, running them over his dry lips.

"You need to dump his ass. You deserve so much better."

I tense up at just the thought of being alone. I hug Folio a little tighter.

"You know you're not alone, right? You know you wouldn't be alone if you leave him," he tells me convincingly as if he can read my mind.

"Oh yeah, and just who is going to be my babysitter? He and I have a two year history, Nick. I can't just up and leave that."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't," I reply, getting annoyed.

Nick slides out from under me, and I think I've made him mad until he grabs my arms and pins me to the bed, hoovering overtop me. Every part of me is frozen, unmovable from what's happening right now. The trout that hangs from the silver chain around his neck dangles down in front of my eyes as he stares down at me with a fire in his eyes, one that I've never seen before. It's intoxicating and mesmerizing, and I can't look away.

"Yes... you can. I'm sick to death of watching you go through this. You deserve so much better. Why can't you see it?"

My eyes dart in between Folio's as his face becomes blurry from the tears filling my eyes. They seep from the corners and drip to the pillow below my head.

"See what?" I whisper, holding my breath.

Folio smiles as he slowly lowers his face towards me. His lips are inches from mine, tempting me to grab the trout and pull him closer so I can kiss them.

"That I'm in love with you."

My heart stops beating and for a moment I forget how to breath. I know I probably looked freaked out right now, but that's because I am, but in the best way possible.

"You... you're what?"

"I love you, Y/N. I've loved you for a while now. I just never wanted to ruin what you had with your boyfriend, but it looks like he's already done that himself."

"You're being serious? Like for real?"

Folio laughs, releasing my arms so I can finally sit up.

"Yeah, for real. That's why you need to let him go. You've got me. You've always had me."

Before I can stop myself, I throw myself into Folio's arms, climbing into his lap and tangling myself around him. He clings to me just as desperately as our lips collide for the first time ever. I devour him, taking everything thing from him that I've wanted for so long; his taste, the feeling of our lips moving together, the scent of his body wrapped around me. My hands travel to his hair, tangling themselves up in its roots and tugging gently, receiving the kind of sounds from him I've only dreamed about. Folio is addictive and absolutely everything I've wanted, but I was just too scared to admit it.

He pulls us apart, both of us out of breath, staring at me with a surprised look.

"I'm guessing I'm not alone in my feelings then," he jokes, releasing a light laugh.

"I guess not," I reply, sheepishly.

"You don't ever have to be scared of being alone, you hear me?" he reassures me, slipping his hands around my face, careful not to harm the faint hand mark that's starting to bruise and pulling me into him for another kiss. I breathe him in, opening my mouth when his tongue grazes my bottom lip. His tongue in my mouth is something I never knew I needed until now, and I groan at the feeling, leaning all the way into the kiss.

"You're not alone, baby," Folio whispers, laying us back down on the bed and wrapping himself around me. "You're mine now. Always and forever."

I smile against his chest and close my eyes, blissfully falling asleep to the sound of his racing heart beating softly in my ear.

#nick folio #nick folio one shots #nick folio fanfiction #bad omens

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joesquinns · 4 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/joesquinns/759493106439782400/from-racist-songs-to-problematic-boyfriends-doja?source=share

JQ & DC is most likely a PR stunt, not a real relationship. Joseph had (most likely/pretty much) rejected her back in 2022 and she had dissed him in one of her songs called "Attention", basically saying he's lazy as shit, how he needs a new wig (Eddie reference), how he thought he was above her (he basically is), how she didn't care that he wouldn't fuck her (she does), and how she had him famous from the problem she had with Noah (she fucking didn't, it was all Joseph that made him famous). Obviously, she couldn't take rejection. Also, she has an album coming out and tours to do and he has Gladiator 2, F4, and he was in British Vogue. She's a very bad person and I have no idea why she had to be the pick for the PR stunt but whatever. Also, the stupid thing is that people are attacking Joseph's father for "raising his son badly". Which passes me off because his dad didn't do anything. This is all JQ and DC's issue. I don't want them bringing his father into this. See many people are saying to "just accept the fact that they're dating" but they aren't even dating. Joseph didn't like her in 2022 and she's very bad. She couldn't take rejection like a bitch. And she's very demonic and weird as fuck. This has to do with Marvel or something and this JQ and DC news is from a person who's notorious for PR stunts. Also, JQ isn't the only one doing these things. It's just a Marvel thing I guess. And to anyone who supports DC or even likes her, that's insane. I talked about this to my mother and grandmother and they even say that it's fake and it's just a PR stunt. A similar thing happened with famous rappers Ice Spice and Central Cee where they did a PR stunt with their new collab song. And they both are problematic in their ways. Also if anyone thinks that hating on Doja is "racist", most people agree that Lupita and Joe would've been way better and cuter. Lupita is a real woman and very kind and not problematic while DC is just a stupid girl who's weird as shit. And I'm not jealous at all, I could care many fucks less about Joe's dating life. But this is DC, a very problematic girl who's done very bad things and is very demonic and weird as hell. If it was any woman that people knew and wasn't problematic, it would've been way better. But this isn't any chick, it's Doja. So people can make all the articles as they want but in the end, it's fake as fuck. It's a PR stunt. I will always love Joe but he gave me the ick and I feel like I need a break. And maybe others. Joe can do whatever he wants, he doesn't know me. And I only know so much about him. He's a grown man and he has a job. But I can disagree with things. I can have opinions on things. My opinion on his choice is....well wtf Joe? But I can't just tell him what he's doing is bad. We all just need to like- ignore it and not talk about it and just suffer for a couple of weeks. Then we can have our old Joseph back but for now, he's just Joe.

Dw JQ fandom, chill, and take a deep breath, it's fake. It'll go away. We'll hold each other's hands through this bumpy road and eventually, we'll cross it. All we have to do is wait and pray or whatever. And if you have your own opinions, that's fine. But here's something to ponder over and think about. There's more to it but I'm too tired to type it out lmaoo😭😭

I rest my case.

To be honest, how everything has been handled and came out since Sunday I'm leading it to being a PR stunt as well.

No one can claim that it is not at all suspicious...

We'll get the blurry pic on Deux and then suddenly not even an hour after there's an article on THE SUN and then suddenly there's a video from two weeks ago and then suddenly someone saw them a day earlier and all this happens in the span of what? 2 hours? And oh suddenly someone spots him on a concert of her from a month ago where his neck seems like the one of a giraffe?

The video where he's grabbing her "ass" is's suspicious as hell...it's more her hip than her ass but ok we could argue about that but it's clear that he's asking her before he lets his hand slide down so for me it's staged af and doesn't scream "comfortable".

DC is a bad person and everyone who says something else is simply...I don't know...

No matter "If she has changed" or "maybe she's different"...I don't care that her fans are saying "she's calmer" and what else.

In Italy we say A wolf may lose its fur, but it will always remain a wolf

I also don't believe that Joe is "not online" because hell, I didn't know about all her shit before Sunday and it didn't take me that much and that long to find it and he has his phone with him all the time WE see him so he knows how to google

Believe me, I can disagree on things as well and I am disagreeing on his choice here. I know for him it doesn't matter but just because I'm a fan, I can still express my anger about the bullshit he does (and everyone who has been following me for longer knows that I'm usually one who defends him).

And before anyone comes in - no I'm not jealous. I know he doesn't know me. I know I don't stand a chance with him and yet I have the right to be angry if he pulls such a bullshit and to post that on my little blog.

To sum it up:

I don't find this funny and I hope this is over soon because otherwise if this really turns out to be "serious" and "longlasting" (like some people claim it to be) I need to unstan him because I don't know if I can support someone who showed himself to be this sweet guy and gentleman person (the past two years) and then turns around and does this bullshit. Either you're real or fake and I'm not here for fakeness.

That's just my two cents and I can guarantee you all this comes out of my brain and I don't have a friend of a friend of a friend who knows him/works in PR/hooked up with him/is in the industry.

Thank you and now I go outside to touch some grass instead to go to his dad’s insta to leave a stupid comment….how old are you? 5? Get a grip

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #I will not tag this woman #lindamujer444

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honeytama · 7 months ago

Text

Make Your Move - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

Fic Masterlist

A/N: Very excited to begin my first long fic! Enjoy <3 I'd love to know what you think. I have an idea of how long it will be, but maybe I’ll have more ideas as we go on.

Fic Summary: Having known Matt for a year already, he knows your talents and hires you as his assistant for Bad Omens' upcoming tour. You’ve had a crush on Matt, your friend, and now boss. However, his good friend and your celebrity crush, Noah, takes a liking to you the second you step through the door. What happens when your feelings develop? What happens when they find out? You only hope your heart doesn’t break trying to care for two others.

Content and Warnings for Ch. 1: Fluff, mention of sex toys/masturbation, all of my works are 18+ only

Word Count: 2.7k

Matt called the other day.

“Y/N, do you happen to have plans from June 3rd to July 7th?” He asked.

You remember him asking you, but at that moment you didn’t even process what he had said before responding, “Whatever you need, I’m all yours!”.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. He was cocky, overly flirtatious, and arrogant some of the time, but he had an effect on you that didn’t waver.

You wanted every moment to be around him and didn’t consider the amount of responsibility he would put on you in the upcoming months.

It’s the beginning of April and you agreed to be Matt’s assistant tour manager on Bad Omen’s summer tour. Their full tour route has already been posted online and fans could begin buying tickets by the end of the week.

Today, you have to meet with Matt and the band for the first time to discuss tour logistics. Tour production, mixing, and lighting were nothing new to you, but you'd never gone on the road before, let alone with a band you'd never met… in person, at least. You're a Bad Omens fan– big time.

Matt and you have known each other for a year having met while you were on a walk. His dog, Zeus, had got off-leash and sauntered on toward you. It was fate the way the world brought him to you. He thanked you for grabbing Zeus’ collar before noticing your Bad Omens merch.

“I like your shirt,” he nodded at your chest with a smirk.

“You're their tour manager,” you said with wide eyes.

“Among other things,” he smiled.

The man had you wrapped around his finger starting that day.

You two exchanged numbers and have been hanging out and talking ever since. It was your favorite to go on walks with him and his dogs when he was home from tour. He flirted with you and with every hand touch and compliment it made your affection for him grow. However, you knew he was a ladies' man and decided to keep your feelings secret early on.

Now, he’s your boss.

—

The walk from your car to the door of the studio felt a mile long. The beat of your heart thumped in your ears as you thought about how your first meeting would go.

Would they like you? Would you do well or make a fool of yourself? Would they notice you had a crush on Matt? Will they just think you're his puppy to play with on tour?

These thoughts made your stomach lurch and nearly convinced you to dial Matt to call in sick.

Nevertheless, you wanted to prove yourself to them, so you put on your best smile and turned the door knob.

You were immediately met with a packed room and heads turning to meet you.

“There she is!” Matt exclaims while leaning against the long mixing console. “Everyone, this is Y/N. My new assistant.”

“Hell knows you needed one,” Folio gets up from the couch on the side of the room and goes to shake your hand.

“I’m Nick,” he points to another guy in the corner in a rolly chair, “he’s Nick, too. So, it’s ok for you to call me Folio.”

Nick, Nicholas Ruffilo as you know him, gives you a smile and a small wave before returning to his laptop screen.

“That’s Jolly,” Folio points to a rugged man sitting on the rug on the floor next to the coffee table.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he smiles.

“And this is Noah,” Folio walks over to Noah and pats his shoulder.

“Hey,” he waves.

How can he be even hotter in person? You thought.

Being a fan of the band already, you had already attached their names to their faces, and Noah’s was your favorite. You thought he was attractive and started to develop a bit of a celebrity crush on him when you discovered the band, but once Matt came into the picture you thought it best to ogle over someone tangible. Now, Noah is really in front of you and you hope your fan feelings won’t make things complicated.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m such a fan,” you say, professionally.

“Oh! You’re a fan! Matt, you picked a good one,” Folio grins.

You make your way across the room toward Matt to hug him. You couldn’t help feeling eyes on you from the direction of the couch, but your conscience convinces you to ignore it.

Matt embraces you before telling you to take a seat in the rolly chair beside him.

“Alright, my friends,” he claps. “Now that we’re all here, we have a lot to do. Y/N, I sent you our to-do list, mind getting that out for me?” Matt nods toward the laptop in your tote bag.

“You’re already giving orders? It’s day zero,” Nick whines.

“Treat her like an equal, man,” Noah is lighthearted, but his face says “Don’t do this right now”.

“Guys, I’m kidding,” Matt groans and pulls out his phone. “Ok, so we need to source crew, talk to management about who else is on the bill, create video wall graphics, arrange a setlist, mix intros for each track in the setlist… plus lots and lots of other shit.”

You smile across the room to Noah and mouth, “Thank you”.

He winks at you before looking down at his notebook and beginning to take note of Matt’s list.

Matt continues, “Noah, do you want to finalize the setlist? We can work on some other stuff while you get that done.”

“Actually,” he raises his head from his notebook to make eye contact with you, “I would love to have Y/N’s opinion on what I have so far.” He faces Matt, “She’s a fan and it would be nice to have some insight from someone else who enjoys our music.”

“I like that idea,” Matt agrees.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” you say excitedly. Time to prove yourself, you thought.

“Sweet,” Noah says. He gets up from the couch with his notebook and pen in hand. “We can go out to the patio,” he nods his head at the back door of the studio.

You grab your tote and fix your outfit before following Noah to the door that he so chivalrously holds open for you.

“After you,” he smiles. “Let’s take a seat on the bench.”

The atmosphere completely changes as you can hear birds chirping and cars driving down the nearby highway. The back patio is covered with a finished, wooden awning and it faces a small yard with deep green grass and vines that trail up the fence surrounding the studio. Being here with Noah, alone, it felt like a dream.

You take a seat next to Noah with around two feet in between you. Your heart flutters watching him flip through the pages of his notebook as his hair falls into his eyes.

“There it is,” he announces as he tucks his hair behind his ear, only for it to fall again to his temple.

Noah hands you his notebook and on the open page is a list of songs. Some of them are scratched out and then rewritten, while others have question marks next to them.

“I hope you can read my handwriting,” he says sheepishly.

“I like your handwriting,” you smile, hoping to ease him. Why was he nervous? You thought.

You read aloud,

“Artificial Suicide,

Nowhere to Go,

V.A.N,

Glass Houses,

The Grey,

Never Know,

Limits,

IDWT$,

Like a Villain,

Just Pretend,

The Death of Piece of Mind,

Concrete Jungle,

and Dethrone.”

“This is perfect,” you gush. “The fans will love this show. I know I will.”

Your praise earns you a toothy smile from him. “Are you sure there is nothing you would change? You can be critical. I can take it,” he leans in urging you to say anything.

“You–,” you blush, “you forgot to add my favorite song.”

“What’s your favorite?” He’s still so close to you, yearning to hang onto every word you say.

You reach across his lap to pull the pen out of his hand. His gaze follows your hand to his notebook. The pen is brought to the page of setlist ideas and at the very bottom, you scribble If I’m There.

Noah laughs and rubs the tops of his thighs. “Really?”

Taken aback by his reaction, “‘Yes! What do you mean, ‘really’?”

“Hey,” he smiles with his hands up, “it’s a great song. I know the fans love it…” He holds up his forefinger, “But, one, we haven’t played it live in forever.” He holds two fingers to you and laughs, “Two, you put it as the third encore after Dethrone.”

You laugh along with him. “Fine, no If I’m There for the fans I guess,” you tease. “I just was thinking about when you and Jolly did an acoustic live stream during quarantine and played it. The song means a lot to me and your voice sounds amazing in it, of course,” you admit.

Noah bites his lip and fixes a steady gaze on your eyes. “Thank you, that means a lot. Maybe you’ll share with me what it means to you sometime?”

“Sure,” you nod.

“How about, when we’re on the road and you’re feeling down,” he looks off to the yard, “you say the word and I’ll play the song for you.”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you.”

“Why?”

“I want to sing it again; the song means a lot to me, too,” he looks to you.

–

“Matt,” you call out, “am I going to be feeling down when we're on the road?”

It was now almost two months later and the first show of the summer is in two days. This morning, Matt is over at your apartment helping you pack for your first tour trip. You have to leave to meet everyone at the tour bus to pack everything up and head out by noon.

“Feeling down,” he pauses, “like, sad? Where’d you hear that?” He comes out of your restroom with your travel bottles and extra toiletries in his arms.

“It was a passing comment that Noah made when we first met. I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” you look down at your suitcase on the bed.

“I’m sure he didn't mean to freak you out. But,” he opens up your mini bag to set everything inside, “yeah, it can get lonely.”

“Aw, you get lonely?” you tease. “Then, I’m glad I’ll have my best friend on the road with me,” you smile at him.

“Yeah, me too,” he smiles back at you, “Noah and I are going to be hanging out a lot.”

“Fuck off”, you flick the brim of his hat. Letting out a sigh, you ask, “Do you think I have everything I need?”

“Lemme see…” He hunches over your suitcase and rummages through the piles of clothes. It’s a minute later that you realize that he’s probably putting his hands all over your underwear. “Y/N.”

“What?” You ask. He’s still hunched over, unwavering. “Matt, what is it?” You repeat urgently.

“What are– Why do you have these?” He turns around to you holding your palm-sized vibrator in his left hand and your pink, five-inch dildo in his right.

“Matt!” You reach forward trying to grab them, but he pulls back. “Oh, my God!”

“You can’t bring these!” He yells waving around your personal items.

“I can do whatever I want! Give them back!” Your cheeks feel red hot as you try to reach for your things being held above his head.

He looks down at you with fire in his maple eyes. “You’re going to be staying on the bus with us. When did you think you were going to use these?” He laughs, and you hate it when he’s right. Honestly, you questioned why you even bothered to pack them, too.

“None of your business, Matt,” you huff letting your arms down, defeated. “I just thought, like, what if we got hotel rooms at some point during the tour and I could blow off some steam.”

“And, you thought that you’d get a room to yourself?” Matt laughs, annoyingly. He hands you the toys and you throw them into the bag in frustration.

“I have to room with you boys the entire month?” You whine. “How am I supposed to change my clothes?”

“You’ll have to get comfortable with being uncomfortable,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I don't mind if you change in front of me,” Matt smirks.

“You would like that, huh?” You jab.

“Y/N, watching you change would be my favorite show; better than any Bad Omens set, and I’m great at my job,” he taunts.

“You’re gross,” you scoff.

“You love me,” Matt relaxes on your bed.

He’s right, you think.

–

The sun was out again outside of the studio. You reminisce about spending time with Noah on the patio two months ago, and there were only a couple of days you spent alone time with him since then. Each time, you try to brush off the sense of guilt you have when Noah looks at you with his almond eyes; Matt is still unaware of the celebrity crush you had on his friend. Even though Matt isn't yours, you still liked and knew him first and it made it feel wrong to give Noah the attention you did.

Though, there’s no time to focus on that now. Today is your first official day of being Matt’s assistant and assistant tour manager for Bad Omens.

You met everyone: crew, the other touring band, Bad Omens, and Matt outside of the studio where the tour trailers and buses were parked. With your suitcase by your side, you kept track of everything on your iPad. You instructed where everyone was meant to be by the first show day and took inventory of all gear kept in the trailers.

And then after forty-five minutes of organization, everyone was ready to load onto the buses.

“Alright,” Matt calls out, “crew and our other band, you'll be in the first bus. My guys and Y/N, we’ll be in the second. Decide on your sleeping arrangements. Let’s go.”

“You ready?” Folio comes to your side.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” you answer.

With that, you load onto the second bus, and you’re astonished at the sight before you.

The bus is long. There’s a kitchenette with cabinets as you enter and a TV hanging above the entrance of the bus. After the kitchenette, the bus is lined with smooth, black leather couches and one small table for dining. There's a sliding door that separates the bunks from the rest of the bus; six beds total, two sides of the bus set with three bunks on top of each other. After the bunks, there is another sliding door that can block off a room with a leather couch that lines the walls of the bus. The back is decorated with pillows and twinkly lights from which you can see.

“Y/N, take your pick of bunk. I’ll sleep near wherever you choose.” Matt suggests.

You choose the second bunk on the right side of the bus. Matt chooses to sleep above you and Folio follows suit below you. As everyone is settling in, Noah trails in last.

He’s left with the second bunk on the left side of the bus, right across from you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he smiles as he puts his backpack in his bunk.

“Noah,” you blush while unpacking your blanket, pillow, and plushies onto the bed.

Matt finishes unpacking his sleeping gear and leans against the wall to address all of you, “Now that we’re back, I just need to remind everyone about the rules of the bus.”

Nick groans from his bunk near the floor.

“Well, actually, y'all know there’s only one rule,” Matt maintains eye contact with you. “No pleasuring oneself or another on the bus.”

Oh, my God, you think.

"I hate you", you silently mouth to Matt.

Beside you, Noah chuckles and crosses his arms. Turning to look at him, his cheeks are pink.

Did Matt fucking tell him something? You thought.

Matt raises his eyebrows at you. “Driver! Let’s roll.”

#noah sebastian x reader #matt dierkes x reader #bad omens x reader #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #matt dierkes fanfiction #she's HERE

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