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dazzlingjaeyun · 5 months ago

Text

ʙᴀɴᴅᴀɪᴅꜱ – ꜱɪᴍ ᴊᴀᴇʏᴜɴ

boxer!jake x nurse fem!reader

୨୧ genre: exes to ??, mostly angst, a little fluff | words: 5.3k | cw: mentions of bruises, blood, heavy injuries and surgery, probably poor medical references (pls bear with me) ୨୧

"can we get a nurse to the ER immediately, please?" you heard the charge nurse's firm demand through your communication device. you exchanged a quick glance with your colleague, and with a slight nod, she indicated she could handle the task alone. without hesitation, you used your pager to notify the ER that you were on your way, then dashed through the hallway and down the stairs to reach the emergency department.

"sorry, we're completely short-staffed," the charge nurse murmured in apology, ushering you toward a room. "male patient, twenties, just some bad bruises – likely needs stitches. we just got a family from a car crash, and we can’t tend to him right now."

with that, she left you at the door and hurried down the hall toward another room.

you pushed open the door, heading straight to the sanitizer dispenser and rubbed it into your hands. then, you pulled on a pair of gloves from the box beside it and added another layer of sanitizer.

"hello, my name is–"

the words caught in your throat as you turned around. the sharp scent of sanitizer seemed to sting your nose, burning your airways and stealing the breath from your lungs.

you froze, staring straight into a pair of familiar brown eyes – eyes you had learned to both love and hate. once filled with warmth, they now held an icy coldness, mixed with a flicker of surprise at the sight of you. just like you, he was sure you'd never meet again.

"y/n," he finished your sentence.

your throat tightened as your name rolled off his lips. you gulped down the lump in your throat as if you could swallow the whirlwind of feelings right down with it. you shook your head slightly, trying your best to focus on the situation at hand and staying professional.

"yes. i'll be your nurse today," you finished the rehearsed introduction you'd used at least a thousand of times during your two years at the hospital.

with another shaky breath, you slowly stepped closer to where he was sitting, waiting for any type of response from him but there was none.

"can you take off your hood, please?" you asked in the most professional tone you could muster. you nodded slightly when he pulled down his hood and leaned a little closer to examine his face. a pang of hurt rushed through you seeing him in the exact state you'd found him in many times before.

you were sitting on the sofa in the tiny apartment you shared with jake, your knees bent and pulled to your body as if that state could hold together the feelings that dared to overflow. you checked your phone again and again. nothing. as your head started to spin, wondering if tonight would be the night that he wouldn't come home, the sudden creak of the front door finally pulled you out of your daze, and you immediately shot to your feet, rushing toward the door. jake stumbled inside, his gaze on the floor and his hood hiding what you expected to be another field of bruises. "jake..." you whispered, your voice trailing off in a lack of things to say. you carefully took his shaking hand in yours and guided him to the bathroom, where you gently pressed down on his shoulders to make him sit on the edge of the bathtub. "i'm fine," he tried to reassure you the way he always did when he looked anything but fine. you stayed silent as you started cleaning up his bruises. the only sound breaking the silence was jake's occassional hiss when he clenched his fists as the antiseptical burned on his wounded skin. "you don't have to–", the words stuck in his throat with another sharp intake of breath as you cleaned up his bleeding lips with a cotton swap. "i can take care of it," he mumbled, and although he avoided your eyes, you could see a hint of regret flashing through his. "if you took care of yourself, you wouldn't keep coming home like this in the first place," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and frustration. you threw away the tissues and cotton swabs he'd bled through and faced him again to apply ointment to his bruises and patch them up if necessary. "what if one day you come home and i can't fix it, jake?" you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper. for a second, you stopped your movements, just standing in between his legs and looking at his battered face. "what if one day you don't even come ho–" "shh," his whisper interrupted you, "that won't happen, baby." jake raised his hands and brought them to your hips, pulling you a little closer to him. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just held him close until your thoughts quieted down. for tonight, he was safe, you thought. you let go of him and took a step back, gently running your hand through his silky hair and examining his face one last time. then, you reached for the chapstick that you kept on the sink, gently applied it to the ripped skin on his lips, and softly brushed your lips against his. after you pulled away from his lips, you cupped his chin between your thumb and index finger and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on each of his bruises. "you need to stop this, jake," you whispered later when the two of you had gone to bed and he was holding you tightly although every muscle in his body hurt. he couldn't not have you close to him.

"you won't ask what happened?" he suddenly spoke up, breaking your thoughts and pulling you back to reality.

for a second, you tensed again. then, you sighed almost inaudibly, lingering by his face for another second before taking a sudden step backwards and turned around to gather all the things you'd need to treat him. you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze, although you had your back to him.

you turned back around, your face as nonchalant as you could manage as you shook your head.

"i don't care what happened," you replied shortly.

his lips twitched into something resembling a smirk, though it was faint and visibly pained him. “still bossy,” he said under his breath.

you clenched your jaw at his remark, but sat down in front of him and ran your hand through his hair in the gentlest way possible to get his bangs out of his face.

"and you're still reckless. now, hold still," you ordered.

for a while, the room was silent except for the occasional sharp intake of breath as you cleaned his cuts. you tried to focus on the task, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his heavy gaze on you.

"this one needs stitches," you said, tapping carefully on the skin next to one particularly deep bruise on his cheek, "it might hurt a litte."

as you began stitching the bruise, his hand moved slowly, almost tentatively, to brush against your wrist. the touch was light, but it still sent a shiver through you. you glanced up sharply, but before you could say anything, he caught your hand.

“jaeyun,” you said, a warning tone in your voice, but he didn’t let go. instead, he brushed his thumb across your knuckles. then, in a gesture so achingly familiar it nearly shattered the walls you’d built around yourself, he pressed a gentle kiss there.

your breath hitched. “what do you think you're doing?” you asked, your voice so barely audible that you hated how vulnerable you sounded.

his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you'd stepped into the room, they softened just a little. “trying to remember what it felt like,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “to have someone who cares.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you pulled your hand back, your heart racing, but despite everything, you mustered the courage to reply. “i don't care. this is my job, not…” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

you wordlessly finished stitching up his wound, grabbed his chin in between your thumb and index finger like you'd done countless of times before and turned his head to both sides so you could examine his face.

your eyes trailed to the bruise marring his lips. they were as plump as you remembered, but the familiar softness was gone. they looked slightly rougher now – chapped and marked with faint remnants of past bruises.

you reached for a clean cotton swab, dipping it gently into the antiseptic. his gaze stayed fixed on you, the weight of it almost making your hands falter. carefully, you dabbed at the bruise on his lips, the antiseptic gliding over it. his lips parted slightly at the touch.

the bruises on his lips were always the hardest to see. he was already struggling with sores from time to time, and every other day, a new bruise was added to what had become a painful collection. but jake loved to kiss you. your lips, your cheeks, your knuckles, your forehead, the tip of your nose – he'd kiss you everywhere, again and again, no matter how much it pained him. only once had he not been able to kiss you. and, of course, it had to be your anniversary. he had promised you to not go that day – had promised you to be home for dinner that you'd prepared so lovingly, cooking all his favorite dishes and even bringing out the nice plates his parents had gifted you when you'd first moved in together. the ones you usually only used for guests. but as time passed, and the blue sky outside your kitchen window slowly turned to black, you knew he wouldn't be home before midnight. you tried to be angry, really, but you couldn't stop the waves of worries from washing over you again and again. with shaking hands, you grabbed your phone to call him, certain he wouldn't answer. but after only two rings, you heard his voice. "babe? i'm on my way, i–" "are you okay?" you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. just hearing him eased the twist in your stomach, but not fully. jake swallowed hard on the other end, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "i'm sorry," he replied after a while. "i know i promised." he sounded guilty. "you did," you replied quietly. "please... just come home." the line went silent except for the sound of jake's breathing, and you knew he was searching for the right things to say, but you still hung up. the dinner you'd put so much effort into had long gone cold, yet you couldn't get yourself to empty the table. you waited silently, eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, until the door clicked and jake's footsteps echoed through the hall. "princess?" jake's familiar voice called, a little unsure but loud enough to hear. he kicked off his shoes and rushed to the kitchen where you were sitting in your chair. you looked at him, your heart aching at how tired his eyes looked – at how his face was covered in fresh bruises; one on his jaw, one right below his temple, and a fresh one on his bottom lip. your eyes filled with tears that you quickly blinked away. he didn't say anything as he stepped closer, pulled you to your feet and embraced you in a tight hug, although it made him flinch. you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent as you tightened your arms around him. “i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair, “i should’ve been here. i shouldn’t have–” you pulled away and looked up at him. jake hesitated, his eyes scanning your face. then, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. it hurt him – you could see in the way his jaw tightened and feel it in the way he pulled back immediately. "i'm sorry."

jake's sudden hiss broke the silence another time. "ah– y/n–"

you quickly pulled back the cotton swab from his lips, only realizing then that you had kept it on his wound while deep in thoughts yet again.

"sorry," you mumbled, blinking quickly as if that could erase the image your mind had just replayed, "did it sting?" your eyes flicked up to his.

"a little," he admitted, his voice low.

you pressed your lips together, focusing on your task as you cleaned away the faint streaks of dried blood and dirt clinging to the cracks. for a moment, your thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, steadying his face as you worked.

your hands were itching to pull out the chapstick you kept in the pocket of your coat and soothe his lips with it like you always used to do after cleaning up yet another bruise.

"you used to just kiss them better," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but his words still made you freeze for a second.

"are you hurt anywhere else?" you asked, avoiding his eyes as you took one of his hands in yours and silently cleaned his bleeding knuckles.

his eyes traced down from your face to his hand in yours, slightly bigger, probably a lot rougher. it reminded him of how you'd often cleaned the blood off of his knuckles before, but also of how you'd loved to play with his hands when you were cuddled up against each other on the sofa or in bed. or how you'd always let him take the leftover lotion from your hands whenever you'd applied too much again. he was sure your hands were just as soft as he remembered them underneath the thin plastic gloves.

"jake?", you asked again, reminding him of the previous question he'd left unanswered.

he hesitated for a second, before slowly pulling his hand out of your hold, internally forwning at the loss of your touch, and reaching for the hem of the shirt he wore underneath the zip hoodie.

he slowly pulled it up until you could see a dark red bruise blooming on his ribcage. you winced slightly at the sight but still leaned in a little closer to get a better look, bringing two fingers up to the bruise and carefully letting them ghost over his skin.

"there's not much you can do for a hematoma. ice packs and... rest," you said, your eyes flicking up to his at your last word. jake lowered his shirt again and just nodded wordlessly.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just stood in front of him, not close enough for your legs to brush against his knees but not far enough to feel entirely out of his reach. his eyes met yours and for the first time since you'd seen him sitting in the ER, you didn't look away.

secretly, you hoped he'd see the hurt somewhere in your eyes. that he'd somehow understand how badly he fucked you up, even now that you supposedly didn't care about him anymore.

jake's hand was itching to reach for yours, to graze his fingertips over your knuckles again. hell, maybe to take your hand and pull you into a tight hug – knowing damn well every muscle in his body would hurt too much – but still, holding you so close you'd never leave him again.

but just as his hand moved forward the tiniest bit, you broke eye contact and took another step back, bringing more distance between the two of you.

"you're all patched up," you said sternly, "you'll get your papers and instructions in a few." with these words, you walked toward the door, yet you hesitated to leave.

you turned around to look at him one last time. "take care, jake. seriously, i don't want to see you here again."

the flourescent lights softly buzzed above you as you rushed from patient to patient. your feet were hurting at this point, but you knew you'd only have two more hours left until your shift was over.

you had picked up extra shifts, not entirely voluntarily due to the staff shortage, but you honestly didn't mind. keeping yourself busy kept any thoughts about your encounter with jake almost three weeks ago in the very back of your mind.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't worried deep down, but he hadn't made another appearance in the hospital since the last time, so at least, he was dealing with less severe wounds now.

you were finishing a report on the patient you'd just treated when the charge nurses firm voice made you flinch.

"incoming male patient in his twenties with suspected head trauma and possible internal bleeding. ETA three minutes. notify surgery – likely immediate intervention."

you looked up from the paper, focusing your attention on her and waiting for further instructions.

"y/n, you're prepping," she said, giving you a short look. you nodded, put down your clipboard and followed along as the team moved toward the ambulance bay.

"paramedics said he got injured in a fight," the charge nurse informed. you nodded again, mentally going through the steps you'd have to take now, until you really registered what she'd said.

suspected head trauma. possible internal bleeding. injured in a fight.

the combination of the facts she'd thrown at you and your colleagues so professionally started to ring in your ears like a deafening alarm.

jake.

you felt your heart starting to pound violently in your chest and your airways seemed to swell with every step you took toward where you'd await the ambulance. every worst-case scenario ran through your mind, each more terrifying than the last.

only when you tripped over your own foot, stumbling forward just slightly before catching yourself, you snapped out of it and managed to gather your thoughts again. countless of people got into fights every day. it's not him.

when the double doors of the ambulance burst open, you caught sight of the stretcher, slightly shuddering at the sight of the motionless figure laying on it. it wasn't your first time seeing a patient like this, but that didn't make it more pleasant.

"he's stable for now," one of the paramedics announced, "caller said he hit his head on the floor after a punch. unconscious when we found him. nose bleed, slight swelling of the head, pupils unequal," he rattled off the patient's symptoms.

"we managed to stabilize him, but his vitals dipped twice."

your heart was already in your throat, but when you stepped closer and got a clear view of the patient's face the world seemed to stop.

he looked battered, but you'd always recognize him – in every state, in every lifetime. his skin was pale, sickly so, and blood stuck his bangs to his forehead. a deep gash stretched over his temple, still leaking blood. dried red stains under his nostrils, on his cheeks – everywhere. so. much. blood.

you tried to stay calm but the walls were closing around you, squeezing you tighter until you couldn't breathe anymore. your vision started to blur as you reached for the handle of the stretcher with termbling hands.

"y/n," someone called, but the sound was muffled, like it was coming from underwater.

"jake," his name slipped past your lips in a whisper. you felt your head spinning, every late night thought that had plagued you for so long before you'd walked away from him crashing down on you – revealing reality in its ugliest form.

you didn't realize how much you were shaking until one of the other nurses grabbed your arm to gently guide you away. "i don't think you should–"

"no!" you exclaimed, pulling your arm free and stepping closer again, "i n-need to–"

“y/n,” the charge nurse’s voice cut through, snapping you out of the haze. “step back. now.”

the tone in her voice left no room for argument, but your feet still felt rooted in place. it wasn’t until the stretcher began to roll toward the operating room that you finally stepped back.

the outline of jake's body, all blurry from the tears in your eyes, was the last thing you saw before the doors swung shut behind him.

the charge nurse started to say something, but every noise around you shut down except for the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears and your breath coming ragged.

jake.

you hated him. you loved him. and now, it felt like he was slipping through your fingers for good.

your legs felt numb as you paced up and down the hall, not able to stay still. your body felt exhausted after pushing through your intense 10 hour shift, but you felt restless. time seemed to extend forever as you kept waiting for an update. you didn't know how long the surgery had been going on when the doors finally swung open and revealed the surgeon.

you quickly approached him, although you didn't know if you were ready to be confronted with whatever news he had. his expression seemed calm, but he might as well have looked horrified – you wouldn't breathe until you'd heard the confirming words.

"he's stable," he said finally, and as you hesitated to reply, he added, "he'll be fine. he'll take some time but–"

"can i see him?" you interrupted.

the surgeon furrowed his brows slightly. "he's not awake yet. he needs rest now, y/n."

you should have felt relieved but your terror wouldn't ease until you've seen him with your own eyes.

"please," you pressed, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

he hesitated for a while. your stomach started to drop another time until he gave in and sighed. "i guess you can help out in the recovery room," he mumbled, clearly not fully happy with the idea. you paced off before he could change his mind, only stopping to hesitate for a second once you reached the room. you took a deep breath before opening the door.

your eyes fell on jake immediately, he was lying in bed and although the sight of him wired to all types of machines and with a bandage around his head was worrying, you let yourself breathe for the first time since his arrival. he looked almost peaceful.

your vision blurred as you stepped closer and pulled a chair to his bed to sit down for the first time in hours. you reached out, your hand hovering slightly over his before you pulled it back again.

"i swear to god, jake, i–" a soft sob escaping your throat cut you off.

minutes passed, maybe an hour. you were just sitting next to his bed, blankly staring at him while the tears rolled down your face until you didn't have any left to cry.

when jake's eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright lights above forced him to squeeze them shut again immediately. his head was pounding, the almost unbearable pain forcing a quiet groan out of him.

he took a deep breath and forced his eyes open again, slowly taking in the environment in an attempt to make sense of his whereabouts. as he slowly came to his senses, he started feeling the even rushes of air against his arm.

jake forced himself to move his head to the side, although that only reinforced the pain he now felt in his entire body.

but all the pain melted away when he saw you – your head placed next to him on the matress, your soft breath brushing against his skin. your eyes were closed, your lashes wet and your cheeks slightly flushed. you had been crying for him. and you were here. even after everything he'd put you through.

it was only a few weeks after the ruined anniversary dinner when jake couldn't hold it in anymore. "there's something i haven't told you," he stated when you were cuddled up against him on the sofa. his heart was pounding violently in his chest when you sat up and swallowed so hard that he could hear it. "what is it?" you asked and jake swore the anxiety in your voice nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces. because it wasn't the first time you'd sounded like this, not the first time he'd made you sound like this. and the worst part? he couldn't blame you. when had all of this gone so wrong – when had he stopped being a safe place for you? jake took a deep, shaky breath before he continued, his voice careful as if it could break you. "you remember how i... worked hard, right?" your expression stayed blank, except for the crease that formed between your eyebrows. jake took your wordless nod as a sign to go on. "last week, after one of my boxing sessions," jake began, pausing to gather his courage, "there was this scout. he said he’d been watching me for a while... and that he liked what he saw." your lips parting slightly as you processed his words. "he offered me a chance to go pro." there it was. the sparkle in your eyes. the one thing he wanted to see the most, and the one thing he'd extinguish yet another time. "that's amazing, jake," you said, the relief in your tone only pressing down harder on him. "that means... proper guidelines, more safety?" he nodded slowly, avoiding your eyes as his gaze stayed fixated on the cushions of the sofa. "so...?" you continued carefully. "i turned it down," jake said quickly, as if saying it slower would take away the courage to say it at all. he didn't look at you. couldn't get himself to see the announcement crashing down on you in another wave of disappointment and worry. "you what?" you asked. your voice sounded so unsure – as if you'd only misheard – and jake's heart cracked when he repeated his words. "i turned it down," this time slower. "jake, you said–" "i know what i said, y/n. that i'd take the chance immediately if i got it. but this is not who i am, this–... i don't want to play by other people's rules and–" "do you even hear yourself?" you interrupted. your voice was filled with both anger and frustration and even though jake hated it, you were right. "play by other people's rules? you turned down the chance to do what you want to do, but safely. you've been coming home looking like hell for months. i don't care if you win or not, a body can only take that much," you continued, growing a bit louder with each word. jake knew you were right, and he knew it was wrong when he raised his voice back at you. when he shoved your feelings aside for his pride. "i don't get why you care so much. it's not like you're getting hurt," he replied, his tone agitated. "you're my everything, jake, don't you get that?" you almost screamed, tears of frustration daring to fall from your eyes. the sight of you like this deepened the crack, finally breaking his heart. but he just gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly tensing. you blinked a few times before standing up. "but you're right," you said in a stable voice although jake could see your hands slightly shaking, "i can't keep caring about you when you don't give two shits about yourself." and with that, you left the room – and a few minutes later the apartment.

another low groan stirred you awake. you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep, and then straightened your back almost immediately when you realized you'd fallen asleep.

your eyes immediately fell on jake and you felt like the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders when you saw him looking back at you. he was awake.

you immediately shot to your feet. "are you hurting?" you asked in an almost alarmed tone, turning around to provide him with painkillers, but the weak grasp on your wrist stopped you.

you slowly turned back around to face jake as he raised your hand to his lips and weakly brushed an attempt of a kiss against your knuckles, just like he'd always done.

"why are you here? i thought you hated me" he said, his voice so faint that it was almost inaudible.

you looked at him blankly, "i... do hate you."

jake didn't reply. the silence between you stretched. you wanted to say it, to admit it. to tell him that you didn't hate him. that you were still so fucking in love with him. that you'd always been, even when his reckless behavior made you lose your mind. that you'd never stopped caring about him.

but you just stared at him, your throat tightening with the words you didn’t know how to say. jake’s eyes, even though they were filled with exhaustion, never left yours.

he broke the silence first, although with only a whsiper, “i’m sorry.”

your breath hitched, and you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“for everything,” jake continued. “for all the times i didn’t listen. for making you hate me.” his lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “and for breaking every promise i made to you.”

your heart ached at his words. you searched his face for a hint of insincerity, but there was none.

“you’ve got a lot to be sorry for,” you said softly, sitting back down in the chair.

“i know.” he shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the pain but refusing to break eye contact. “at some point, i didn’t care what happened to me because…” he trailed off, his gaze leaving yours for the first time.

“because...?”

his eyes returned to yours. “because i knew i was losing you, y/n. i know it sounds stupid," he hesitated, "but losing you already felt like i was dead. so i didn’t care what happened.”

the words hit you like a wave, knocking the breath out of your lungs. your fingers twitched, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for his hand. his skin was rough, but the way his fingers curled around yours was heartbreakingly gentle.

"every time you came home like this, i thought i’d lose you, " you said, your voice shaking, "and then i guess i finally did.”

jake shook his head, despite the new jolt of pain that rushed through him. “you never lost me,” he whispered.

the walls you’d spent so long building crumbled, piece by piece. you wanted to hate him, yes. but you also loved him – so much it felt like your heart had never been ready to let go, even when your mind had told you to.

“i don’t hate you,” you murmured. “i never did.”

your eyes met his again, and for the first time in months, it didn't feel like drowning – it felt like coming home.

just as jake was about to bring your hand up to his lips again, the door swung open to reveal the surgeon. you quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your back.

"mr sim?" he asked, to which jake looked at him expectantly.

"i'm sure you've heard this before," the surgeon continued, his eyes flicking to you, before focusing back on jake, "but you need rest. that means no boxing for now. you got severely injured and it will take a long while to heal fully."

your eyes went from the doctor to jake, and as you saw him swallowing, you absentmindedly took his hand in yours again, his fingers gently curling around yours.

jake nodded as best as he could and the surgeon left without another word. as you looked back at jake, you opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

"no boxing at all anymore," he said softly, causing your eyes to widen just slightly, "i'll stop if it means i'll get another chance to be with you."

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halsteadlover · 2 years ago

Text

Haunted

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by @lelaartt: So reader and Jay are engaged, her working as a nurse in the ICU. She gets followed by a stranger on her way home for couple of occasions (She doesn't tell anyone) as the stranger becames a main suspect in case that intelligence is dealing with. Jay completelly worried about her safety and she tells him about the stranger following her for couple of weeks.

• Warnings: stalking, cursing, blood, description of violence, brief mention of killing and rape. (Let me know if I missed something).

• Word count: 9530.

• A/N: I know this is a long ass fic and I’m so sorry please don’t come at me 😭. I’m kinda nervous because I really don’t vibe with the fic but I really hope it turned out okay. Let me know what you think and reblog, comment and like if you want. ❤️ thank you again for your support, forever grateful for it. Sending lots of love to you all xx

Your hospital shift was nothing short of exhausting.

That day there were three hospitalizations in the ICU due to a terrible accident that happened in the afternoon. Three patients, all of them brain dead. The ward was short-staffed and it was just you and another nurse, Amanda, on that shift so dealing with these three new patients, along with the other ones, was really exhausting.

After closing your locker, you removed the necklace where you hung the ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of your left hand, which you did at the end of each shift. You didn't want to risk losing it during work, you’d never forgive yourself for it so you just carried it around your neck during the shifts. You looked at it for a moment with a smile on your lips thinking back to the day Jay asked you to marry him.

You took your cell phone from the pocket of your uniform and, as you walked towards the exit, bag on your shoulders, you noticed various texts from Jay, the last one dating back to a couple of minutes prior.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:17 pm

Baby we're still dealing with a difficult case, I think I'll be late tonight. Please let me know when you get home. I love you endlessly. Be careful.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:55 pm

Baby? Are you okay?

From Fiancée 💍, 8.21 pm

Should I send a patrol to the hospital? You know I'll do it love.

You chuckled not doubting about that, you knew he would. Jay had always been very protective of you, which you wouldn't admit but loved it madly. You loved he cared about you, so much he’d leave everything and everyone to come to you if you asked him to.

From you, 8.27 pm

I'm sorry love, it's been a hard shift and I just picked up my cell phone. I'm going home now. How are you? When will you finish? You’ll come home soon, right?

You left the hospital and started walking home. It was late spring and the temperatures were finally starting to warm up a bit, allowing you to finally breathe fresh air. You really needed it after a whole day of smelling the hospital and disinfectants.

Your cell phone started ringing following a call.

“Hi baby! You really miss me that much, don’t you?” You begin, bringing your cell phone to your ear, a smile on your lips.

“I always miss you, you know that,” your fiancée answered on the other end of the phone. “Are you walking home?”.

“Yes, it's a beautiful evening and I felt like walking.”

Jay sighed. “Baby you know I don't like the idea of you walking alone in the dark, you could’ve taken a taxi or waited for me to pick you up.”

“Oh come on Jay, what’s gonna happen. I'll be home in twenty minutes,” you retorted “Where are you?”.

“I'm still in the district baby, I have to finish writing a case report and then I'm finally leaving,” you heard some noise in the background but you couldn't figure out what he was doing.

Jay continued to keep you company on the phone, refusing to leave you completely alone even though you'd insisted that he finish work so he'd get back to you soon.

You asked him about his day and he started telling you what he had done as you listened to him carefully, asking him a few questions from time to time when you didn't quite understand something. You bumped into a person and quickly mumbled an apology before walking on, quickly glancing at the man who reassured you not to worry.

“Everything okay baby?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I got distracted and bumped into a guy, no big deal. What were you saying?”.

Suddenly an unease feeling went through your body. You tried to let it go, thinking it was just a figment of your imagination.

You clasped your hand around your purse, quickly picking up your pace when you began to hear footsteps behind you.

They were so loud you seemed to hear them only a few feet away from you.

You turned around and stopped in your tracks, looking around for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of relief.

There was no one walking behind you.

Your heart was pounding and anxiety was eating up your stomach and you forgot for a moment you were on the phone with Jay.

Stay calm, you're just tired.

“Baby? You still there?” Jay's voice brought you back to reality. “Oh yeah, sorry, I couldn’t hear you anymore.” You answered. You didn't want to make him worry about your simple and stupid feeling, you knew if you told him you had the impression someone was following you he would’ve rushed to you and acted like the world was about to end.

You were sure it was just the fatigue speaking, but your senses remained alert until you got to your apartment. You took a shower while you waited for Jay to come back home, ordering food since you knew neither of you would feel like cooking.

You were about to lower the blinds in your bedroom window when, glancing outside, you noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk in front of you.

It was too dark for you to make out who it was and for a few moments you stood paralyzed, your eyes fixed on that dark figure, trying to figure out if it was just a hallucination.

The noise of the front door opening and closing made you jump in place, nearly giving you a heart attack.

You took your eyes off that figure for just a second.

Just for a moment.

And it was no longer there.

You ran your hands over your face in frustration, letting out a deep sigh at the same time before walking over to Jay, deciding you were going to ignore it and just needed a good night's sleep.

The following days went on quietly and the strange episode that happened a few nights before passed into oblivion. But that was before something else weird made your skin crawl.

“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to work babe?” Jay asked you as he planted numerous kisses on your lips, making you smile between them. It was morning and you were both in the doorway, your arms around his chest as you both struggled to pull away.

“I'm positive baby, just think about resting okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

He cupped his hands over your face, giving you one last long, sweet kiss on your lips. “I'll have dinner ready for you. You be careful. I love you so much.”

“I love you more.“

The day went on peacefully. You had to work a double shift in the hospital as the nurse on the afternoon shift was sick and had to take over her place.

You loved your job, you really did. There was nothing else you would’ve done in your life but sometimes you couldn't deny how difficult and tiring it was.

“Y/N, sweetie!” You heard the voice of your colleague, Becca, calling you from a patient’s room you'd just passed. You sighed, recognizing the tone she used when she needed something.

You took a few steps back, looking into the room and noticing Becca intent on changing the unconscious patient's dressing.

“Becca I was about to leave, why do you still want to torture me?” You whined and she rolled her eyes. “Please help me change these dressings. Pretty please, I can't wait to leave too.”

She put on the sweetest puppy face she was capable of and for the second time you sighed and rolled your eyes. You ended up disinfecting your hands, putting on a pair of gloves and helping her to change the patient’s dressings.

By the time you finished you were dead tired and couldn't wait to get back to Jay and sleep, you probably would’ve just run away if anyone else had asked you any other favor. For this reason, you practically flew out of the hospital after saying goodbye to your colleagues.

It was particularly cold that evening and you found yourself rubbing your hands on your arms in an attempt to get some warmth. Thank God you took the car that day.

You walked over to your car and grabbed the keys from your bag. Before unlocking it, you noticed an object resting on the windshield, held on it by the wiper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized it was a rose.

A black rose.

What the fuck?

There was no card attached to it, just the rose.

Your heartbeat began to accelerate and anxiety took over you. You tried to keep calm and not freak out since there was definitely an explanation why someone had to put a damn black rose on your car.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe it was for another person and they got mixed up with the cars.

Who the hell gives a black rose though?

Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you but you didn't notice anyone suspicious or anyone nearby watching you, before dropping the rose on the asphalt, trying not to think about it. There was definitely a mistake.

The car ride was strange.

You couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You kept looking in the rear view mirror to notice if there were any cars following you, you were probably just getting paranoid but you couldn't keep yourself calm.

When you parked in your usual spot once you got back home, that feeling of discomfort hadn't disappeared, on the contrary, it had increased.

The streetlights hadn't been turned on yet and it was dark enough outside so distinguishing objects or people was pretty hard.

After locking the car you were about to enter the apartment building when your gaze fell on the sidewalk in front of you.

You didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore there was someone standing, exactly in front of you and, despite the darkness, you were sure they were watching you.

You couldn't figure out who that person was, only that he was a man.

Your breath caught in your chest as you realized it was the same figure you'd spotted a few days earlier from your bedroom window.

The silence was almost deafening, making everything more frightening and suggestive.

Your muscles were paralyzed as your eyes seemed to be glued to that man.

Suddenly he moved and your heart almost stopped beating.

But when you saw him go away, that was the last thing you expected.

He did nothing, just walked away.

You tried to explain what was happening in your mind. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that man was there for another reason and you had nothing to do with it.

You let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding and quickly entered the apartment building, rushing to your home where you found Jay on the couch watching a show.

That rose left you with a feeling of anxiety that you couldn't get rid of easily, also caused by that figure you saw standing in front of you. You didn't immediately tell Jay, you didn't want to worry him since you already knew how he’d react and he’d worry to death and go crazy about it.

You just wanted to be sure that something’s happening before alarming him.

But, knowing you like the back of his hand, he immediately sensed there was something strange, that something was bothering you. You tried to convince him otherwise, that you were just awfully tired after working a double shift at the hospital.

“Baby, really, I'm fine. I'm just dead tired,” you said for the hundredth time since you'd set foot inside the house.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Did someone upset you? Did something happen at work?” He kept going, thumb and forefinger under your chin to keep your head up and make you look into his eyes. Your hands slid under his shirt, caressing his chest as you placed your lips on his, trying to distract him.

“No baby, nobody did anything. Seriously, nothing happened,” you muttered against his lips, “I just missed my fiancé like hell.” You bit his bottom lip and he hissed, his breathing suddenly heavy. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”.

“Fuck yeah,” Jay had said before crashing his mouth on yours and kissing your breath away. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth as his lips moved masterfully with yours. His hands went down your body and he bent slightly before reaching your thighs, pressing his fingers against your skin and urging you to jump into his arms.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck meanwhile he carried you to the bathroom, never letting go of you. As he kicked the door open, you found yourself completely lost in him, the rest of the world vanishing and all negative thoughts forgotten.

However this sensation of bliss was destined to vanish.

In the following days the feeling that was tormenting you didn’t disappear, instead it only got worse.

You started to sense someone was constantly following you and watching you, that every time you walked in the middle of the street there was someone behind you even if every time you turned around there was no one.

After finding that rose on your car, this kept happening and almost every night for two weeks a rose would appear on your windshield.

Jay knew something was wrong, you weren't acting normally anymore.

You were always jumpy, any sudden noise made you almost have a heart attack, even if you were cooking and he suddenly hugged you from behind you’d be scared to death.

Needless to say Jay asked you a million times what was going on, what was it that was bothering you so much but you didn't want to bother him. You didn't want to upset him, make him worry about some stupid feeling of yours, not when his work was already haunting him enough.

Maybe deep down you were hoping whoever was leaving you those roses would stop and eventually leave you alone.

One evening you went out with your friends, on one of your rare days off, to try to keep your mind occupied and to catch up with them since you didn't always have the opportunity because of your hectic job.

Between laughter, jokes, chatting and various cocktails, the evening went on normally and by 1:00 am each one of you went back home. You headed towards your car, parked not far from the bar where you had all met together, calm and happy for the first time in weeks.

However, this feeling of calmness faded the instant your gaze fell on a damn black rose sitting on your windshield, again.

A wave of anger took over you.

You were tired, so damn tired of this little game that whoever it was was playing against you.

Who the hell was this person? What the fuck did they want from you? Why were they targeting you?

Whoever that person was they following you, they knew what you were doing, who you were with, and it scared the shit out of you as well as infuriating you.

You tore all the petals off that rose that would haunt you forever before throwing it angrily on the asphalt and getting into the car. You started it and quickly drove away from there, intending to go home immediately.

You wanted Jay, you wanted your fiancée. You wanted to hug him, feeling safe again in his arms and forget about all that shit that was going on.

As soon as you got home, however, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay laying on the sofa, asleep. The TV was on and he had his cell phone resting on his stomach, holding it close in case you called him. A smile was born on your lips and for an instant all negative thoughts flew away as your attention focused on the sleeping figure on the couch.

You leaned towards him, leaving a sweet little kiss on his forehead, also gently stroking his hair with your left hand. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes at the same instant, looking around before looking at you, a sigh of relief to see you were back home safe and sound.

“I’m sorry I woke you up baby,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again “Let's go to bed so you can sleep again.”

He mumbled something you couldn’t catch and rubbed his eyes before flashing a smile that nearly made your knees buckle. He nodded and then stood up, stretching his arms before pulling you into a hug. “How are you my love? Did you have fun?”.

The memory of that rose returned to your mind but for some reason, seeing his eyes so red and tired, you decided not to worry him about it and you’d talk to him about it the following morning.

“Mmh,” you muttered nodding your head “I really had fun, we needed this girls night out even though I missed you a lot.”

He chuckled, placing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad darling, you deserved it since you’re working so hard lately. And I missed you so much more,” he kissed you again “Come on, let's go to sleep now.”

But that night you couldn't sleep given the thousands of thoughts that were going through your head. You couldn't help but think who would do something like that, what the hell those roses meant. Was there anyone who had it in for you? Did you do something to someone? Maybe an angry patient?

You thought again and again about who could be doing this but none occurred to you. Jay told you about his cases so many times you knew that whoever did this was doing it to torture you, to keep you on your toes, to make you live in fear.

And the fact they were succeeding was infuriating you.

Fear turned into pure terror when, while checking your cell phone, you noticed a text from an unknown number.

So pretty. Can’t wait to meet you.

How did they get your number?

You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn't notice it was morning and that Jay had woken up in the meantime. He literally jumped out of bed when you told him the time after he asked you, realizing he was late. You had the afternoon shift so you didn't have to worry about getting ready for quite a while longer.

“Baby can I talk to you about something?” You had asked him, not being able to hold it in anymore even though you knew you picked up the worst time to do it.

How smart were you for wanting to talk to him about something so delicate as he was hurring to get dressed and going to work? Not much.

“Can you tell me about it later? I'm so sorry, but I'm super late…” he replied frantically as he ran from one part of the room to another looking for the keys. He stopped for a moment in front of you, placing his hands on your face, analyzing your features. “Is it something important though? If…”

You shook his head, placing your hands on his chest and giving him a reassuring smile even if anxiety was making you nauseous. “No, it's not urgent baby. I'll tell you tonight. Now go.”

He smiled at you and made sure to leave you a long, sweet kiss on your lips before saying goodbye and literally flying out of the front door.

It could wait, right?

You tried to keep yourself busy all morning, cleaning every corner of your apartment and keeping your mind from the negative thoughts.

You couldn't deny the slightest noise made you jump, even when you accidentally dropped something on the floor. You hated this feeling, you hated having to be afraid in your own home, you hated whoever was doing this to you, you hated them so fucking much.

You nearly jumped for joy when you realized it was time to get ready for work, the thought that for few hours you'd be safe made you especially happy to go to the hospital.

You took a shower before quickly putting on your uniform and packing your bag. You checked that everything you needed was there, house and car keys and hospital locker keys, a bottle of water, tissues, tampons, some snacks, pepper spray and a small knife. Jay had forced you to carry them around constantly, asserting you could never be too safe and he’d be comfortable with the thought you had something to protect you in case of need, and never as then as then you were grateful to him.

Once you left the apartment, you made sure you locked the door at least three times. The anxiety that had been living with you for weeks was now gripping your stomach, forcing you to constantly look around and keeping you alert to any individual passing by you.

You forcefully clutched your purse to you, walking briskly to your car and unlocking before climbing in and locking yourself inside. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were even holding as your eyes continued to scan the perimeter for any type of threat.

Did you already mention how much you hated this?

“It's okay Y/N, it's okay, just take it easy,” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before putting on your seat belt and starting the car.

As you drove to the hospital you couldn't help but constantly look at the rear view mirror, almost as if you expected someone to be following you but they weren't, there was no car that you repeatedly noticed behind you.

Your cell phone started ringing and you took it from inside your bag, not taking your eyes off the road. Without even looking who it was, imagining for a moment it was Jay, you answered.

“Hello?”.

The smile on your lips instantly disappeared when instead of a voice you started to hear a heavy sigh, almost a pant.

“Hello?”.

You took the phone away from your ear and glanced at the screen, noting that it wasn't Jay, or anyone else you knew, but an unknown ID.

“Who is this?” You continued, hoping whoever it was would answer and maybe you'd recognize the voice. The person on the other end of the phone just kept sighing heavily, making your heart beat so hard you thought you were about to have a heart attack at any moment.

“What the fuck do you want from me?! Leave me alone!” You screamed, in the grip of fear, anxiety and anger that this person was forcing you to suffer. You closed the call and threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, not caring if it had bumped into something or was broken.

Your vision began to blur with tears fearing for your safety. They had your number. They knew where you lived. What kept them from taking you and killing you?

Your hands were shaking on the wheel as you parked at the hospital, palms sweaty. Your heart was still pounding and there wasn't a muscle in your body that didn't shake like your hands.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, not wanting to cause questions from colleagues about the reason of your emotional state.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears away, constantly telling yourself that everything was fine, that you'd be fine, that no one could hurt you in the hospital.

You never felt the need to have Jay with you like then. God you were stupid, so fucking stupid for not telling him about all of this before, for keeping everything inside you and hoping it’d eventually just go away, for underestimating what was happening. You were being stalked.

You texted him, telling him you'd arrived at the hospital and asking how his day was going, determined to tell him about the person who was stalking you as soon as you got off work.

You never thought you'd say it but you were never as glad you had a hard shift as you were that afternoon. Four patients arrived, one after suffering a stroke, two from a car accident and another after falling from the roof of his house.

The entire shift consisted of you and your colleagues running back and forth across the ward, treating patients, resuscitating them after one of them went into cardiac arrest twice. Your mind was focused on nothing but your patients and in treating them, everything else was left out of the hospital. You wouldn't let whoever was stalking you ruin your job, ever.

At the end of the shift there was no need to say you were dead tired and couldn't wait to go to sleep and although it was only 8:00 pm, the lack of sleep of the night before starting to take a toll on you.

As you placed your stethoscope in the locker and grabbed your bag, you removed your engagement ring from the chain around your neck and putted it on your finger. Your cell phone rang following a text notification and your heart skipped a beat for an instant.

The anxiety, which you managed to not to think about during the afternoon, returned stronger than ever to grip your stomach and for a moment you considered to throw the phone away.

But you thought it’d Jay and when you realized that it was indeed him, you breathed a sigh of relief. He said he'd be late that night because of a particularly difficult case and to let him know when you'd be done and went back home.

You tried to hide your sorrow, not wanting to be alone, especially in that situation.

You quickly typed a text back, asking him what he’d like for dinner, and put your cell phone in your bag. You said goodbye to your colleagues and walked towards the hospital exit.

You took a deep breath, praying to God to go home safe and sound.

Although spring had arrived it was particularly cold that evening due to the wind blowing and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.

You walked, actually, almost ran to your car.

Anxiety was eating you alive and your heart was pounding, fear flowing like a river through your veins.

After taking the keys from your bag and unlocked the car, you quickly looked around, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you saw no one was around you.

But suddenly the keys fell out of your hands as a slimy hand placed over your mouth and an arm around your hips.

Your bag fell to the ground as you began to squirm in an attempt to free yourself from whoever grabbed you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as the fear of dying made you fight like never before.

You screamed, your throat burning, even though because of the hand your scream came out muffled.

“Stop fighting it, it had to happen sooner or later, you knew it was going to happen sweetie,” A man's voice came hoarsely to your ears and you suppressed a gag.

You managed to hit his side with your elbow, hard enough to loosen his grip on you and you tried to push him away with all the strength you had in your body.

“You fucking whore!”.

You threw yourself to get the car keys on the asphalt but the man was faster than you and grabbed your arm, pressing his fingers into your skin with such force you were sure they’d leave a mark.

A searing, stinging pain radiated up your face as his fist hit you full-on, knocking you to the ground. You put your hands forward to try to cushion the fall, but it caused you scratches and minor lacerations on both your forearms.

“We're meant to be. I know you want it. I saw it.”

You glanced at him and almost fainted when after few seconds your recognized him.

You had already met him. He was the guy you bumped into two weeks ago.

What the fuck?!

He tried to grab your wrists but before forcing you to get up, you managed to kick him in his genital area, using all the strength you had in your body. A sound of pure pain escaped his mouth and he backed away, leaning forward and gripping the sore area with his hands.

You took advantage of that moment of weakness to get off the asphalt. You weren't going to let him hurt you, not anymore.

You grabbed his black hair in two fists and you didn't care about the damage you would’ve caused him, you didn't care you were a nurse, that you were supposed to be the one to treat people and not hurt them, but you kneed him in his face and the horrible noise his bones made, suggested you most likely broke his nose.

You pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way he grunted in pain and the blood pouring profusely from his nose, kicking him in the stomach with such force that even you were stunned.

You never fought in your entire life, never kicked anyone or punched someone, you hated the idea of hurting people but at that very moment your life was on the line and you had to protect yourself.

The man was laying on the asphalt grunting and muttering some curse word and you took advantage of it. You had to run away, that was your only chance.

You quickly grabbed your car keys and purse off the ground before opening the door and getting in. You locked yourself in before you started fumbling to get the vehicle going.

Your hands were shaking and your vision was still blurry from the punch he had thrown at you.

You gave him a quick look, terrified he’d get up and kill you on the spot.

You didn't know how but you managed to start the car and without even looking back you drove away from that parking lot. You knew you couldn't drive in those conditions but you just wanted to get away from that monster.

You didn't know where to go, you didn't want to go home, the terror of being attacked there would’ve killed you so you went to the place where there was the only person you wanted to see, the only one who could make you feel better, safe.

The journey to the district was awful.

Your body was driving but it was as if you were experiencing everything from the outside, as if your soul had left your body and was looking at you from afar.

You didn't know how you managed to drive and not run over anyone or crash yourself.

Your breathing was still quickening, your chest rose and fell as if you'd run a marathon, your trembling hands struggling to hold onto the steering wheel. Your vision was blurred due to copious tears flowing from your eyes and streaming down your face, not even realizing you were crying desperately.

Your face was in pain and you were sure a huge bruise would appear on your cheek, although you didn't care, grateful you were still alive, that you managed to escape.

When you arrived at the district, you didn’t care about parking your car properly, or to take your bag or lock it after getting off. You just wanted Jay.

A smile appeared on Sergeant Platt's face the moment she saw you walking up the stairs, but when she noticed the way you were running, it immediately disappeared.

“Oh my God Y/N!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you up close. Your face was streaked with tears, an expression of pure terror and fear contouring your features, your uniform stained with dust. She ran towards you, placing her hands on your arms. “What happened to you?” She took a look at your body looking for any other injury. “Oh dear. It's okay, whatever happened you're safe here.”

You kept breathing hard and your eyes were so full of tears you could barely see her.

“Shh it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down.”

She put her arm around your shoulders as she took your hand with her free one as a sign of support. She led you into one of the break rooms, making you sit on the couch and sitting next to you.

Her hand kept squeezing yours meanwhile the other stroked your back, trying to calm you down.

“Do you want some water?” She asked and you nodded, not being able to speak at the moment. Trudy got up and ran to get a bottle of water.

She handed it to you after opening the cap and it broke her heart to see the way you were shaking. “T-thanks,” you stammered, your chest shaking with sobs. “J-Jay.”

“I'm going to call him right away, don't move from here,” she said, seeing the way you needed him. She got up and ran upstairs, where Intelligence was still busy working on the case.

Everyone turned to the sergeant, who was at the top of the stairs with an expression that did not bode well. “Trudy, did something happen?” Voight asked as soon as he saw her but her gaze fell on Jay, who was standing by the whiteboard, arms folded across his chest.

“Jay… It's Y/N…” She spoke, saying nothing else. “She's downstairs now…”

Jay's eyes widened at the sergeant's words, his eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry and fear. He knew something was up, by the way Platt looked at him and a wave of anxiety hit him, his mind now focused only on you.

Without even letting her finish the sentence, he quickly moved away from the others, running down the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. Trudy followed him, giving no explanation to the rest of the team who just exchanged a worried look.

“Where's she?” he asked hurriedly and Trudy pointed him to the room you were in.

He burst into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting on the sofa but immediately worrying when he saw the state you were in. Trudy closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone and not giving any other cops a chance to snoop.

You had your elbows resting on your knees, your hands on your face as your leg bounced up and down almost obsessively.

“Baby!”.

His voice made you snap your head to him and before you knew it, you were rushing into his arms, squeezing yours around his torso with so much force you were almost afraid he’d disappear.

Jay was surprised for a moment but immediately returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you like he never did. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was he knew it was serious and that was enough to make his heart race.

“I'm here baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. You cried in his arms, with relief because he was finally there with you.

His heart sank as he heard you cry like that, feeling helpless like never before. You kept shaking and, without even knowing anything, Jay promised himself whoever had done this to you was a dead person.

“Baby you're making me worry to death. Please talk to me,” his voice coming out desperately. You broke away from his embrace, but still remained very close to him. “Darling, look at me. What happened?”.

His hands rested on your face and inevitably on the bruised cheek. You winched in pain and this didn't escape Jay, who was on the verge of losing his mind by then. “Y/N. Look at me,” he urged and you did as he said, lifting your head and making eye contact with him.

His breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on the clear purple bruise on your cheek.

“What the fuck? Y/N…” he stammered, an incredulous and horrified look on his face as he looked at you. He took his hand away from your wounded cheek, placing two fingers under your chin and turning your head to inspect it better. “Shit baby… What happened? Who did this to you?”.

His heart was pounding in his chest and as his eyes looked at every single inch of that bruise that lined your cheek, every single cell in his body lit up with rage. Seeing the desperation on your face, the look of pure terror with which you were looking at him, the way your eyes were so full of tears, Jay felt as if he had stabbed and someone had twisted the knife over and over again.

“I-I… H-he…” you stammered meaninglessly, sobbing between words clearly still unable to speak.

“Oh baby come here,” he hugged you again, this time even harder than he had before. “My beautiful princess. It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now do you hear me? You're safe.” He tried to comfort you “I'm here now, I'm here. You’re not alone anymore and I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe with me my love.”

“I-I was…” another sob “So… S-so scared…” you cried into his shirt, wetting it with your tears.

“I know, my baby, I know,” he whispered, placing lots of little kisses on your head. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, not to you. But you're safe now, I'm here with you, you’re safe with me.” He kept repeating to you.

You both sat on the couch and he continued to hug you indefinitely, holding you and cradling you in his arms until you calmed down. “Sorry,” you muttered, your voice weak as you pulled away from his embrace, gesturing at his tear-stained t-shirt.

“Don’t even say it,” he replied. He raised his hand and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ears as you kept your gaze on your hands. He was about to continue speaking when his eyes fell on the bruises on your arm, visible outside of your uniform.

His fingers lifted the sleeve to take a better look of the bruises on your skin. He immediately understood they were finger markers, a sign that someone had violently grabbed your arm.

“Oh darling,” he whispered, shattered at the sight of those horrible marks on your beautiful skin “What have they done to you?” His fingers caressed you gently, being careful not to hurt you further.

He was furious, like he had been a few other times in his life, and he still hadn't heard the story.

“Tell me what happened, please.”

You sighed and with still trembling voice, started talking. You told him about everything, about the roses, about the feeling of being followed, about the text, about the call and about the man who attacked you, the fact you already saw him for few seconds weeks prior, how he hit you and how you defended yourself.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me about it sooner?!” Jay snapped, when you finished speaking “This was never going to happen dammit! I would’ve killed that fucking son of a bitch.”

He leapt to his feet, running his hands over his face and pacing around the room. He didn't want to pick on you, it wasn't your fault and he knew it, but he was so damn angry, so angry you had to go through this, that he wasn't there to protect you.

His eyes landed on you noticing how yours quickly filled with tears again at his words and the tone of voice he used. “No, no, no baby, don't cry,” he rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to blame you. It's not your fault, please don't cry.”

His hands rested on your knees as you looked at him with sad, broken eyes, making his heart break over and over again. “You’re right I should have told you about it…”

“No, baby, don't get this into your head okay? It's not your fault, I’m so sorry for snapping like that I’m just so fucking furious for what that piece of shit did to you. It’s his fault, he hurt you and make you go through all of this. I hate you had to go through this alone and I wasn’t there to help you,” He sighed “I knew something wasn't right, I should have…” Jay stopped his eyes suddenly widening as you looked at him confused.

“Oh my god, that's… That's what you wanted to tell me this morning, isn't it?”. You didn't answer, effectively giving him the answer he needed.

Jay scrambled to his feet again, as if he'd just been given an electric shock. “Fuck!” He tried to keep control but you jumped as he kicked a chair in anger before placing his hands on the table and bowing his head, his back towards you.

“Jay…” you mumbled, standing up and walking towards him. You placed a hand on his back even though he didn't move from that position.

“It's my fault, this…” he choked on his own words “If I had stopped and listened to you this morning… Shit… It shouldn't have happened… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, no baby,” you interrupted him “Don't be hypocritical and tell me to not blame me and then do the same.”

He turned his head to you and it broke your heart to see his eyes full of tears. “I was late Y/N… I… This happened to you because I didn't stop for five fucking minutes to listen to you!”.

“Jay, listen to me,” you spoke to him softly. You lightly pulled his arm, causing him to straighten his back. You cupped your hands over his face, stroking his cheeks. “It's that crazy bastard's fault okay? Not yours, not mine.”

“If something happened to you… God…”

“No. Let's not do this. No ifs and buts. I'm here and I'm fine, I was scared shitless, I'm still scared shitless, but I'll be fine. You’re here with me and you’re all I need baby. These are just bruises and they'll be gone in a couple days,” you croaked “You should’ve seen how he looked then.”

He sighed before letting out a chuckle though the tears, hugging you for the third time, his hand stroking your hair. “We'll get him okay? And I'll fucking make him pay for what he did to you.”

You and Jay went upstairs, not wanting to let you disappear from his sight for even a second, after reassuring Trudy and telling her what had happened. Needless to say, she threatened to kill the bastard herself if Jay didn't. The way he answered told you that there was no need and that he’d certainly sort it out.

“I'll get you some ice for the bruise,” Kim had offered. The rest of the team didn't take it quite well either and Voight promised you they’d catch the bastard who hurt you. You and Jay had been together for a long time and you were part of the group now, an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them.

“Thank you,” you thanked her with a warm smile, placing the bag of ice on your face. The cold sent a rush of shivers up your spine.

“Come on baby, let's go in the break room,” Jay had said, his hand resting on your lower back. However, your gaze fell on the white board on which various photos and sentences were hung.

At first you didn't notice, but when your eyes saw a particular photo, you did a double take, stopping in your tracks and lowering the hand that was holding the ice.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Jay immediately asked alarmed, then following the direction of your gaze. “Oh. That's the case we're investigating.”

The photo just on the blackboard wasn't clear enough, it was a frame taken from a surveillance video but you could distinguish the features of the man it portrayed.

You stopped breathing for a second and your mind retraced in those brief moments your aggression, still fresh and imprinted in your memory.

“Y/N?” Jay pressed, worried about your reaction as his hand caressed your back.

“It-it… Jay…” you breathed out “It's him…”

“What?!” Jay's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and everyone in the unit couldn't mask their surprise.

“It was him… H-he attacked me… Oh god…”

Your hands start shaking again and you thanked that Jay was there to hold you or you would’ve probably collapsed on the floor.

Your eyes moved from that frame to the other hanging photos. There were four photos depicting four different women, more or less your age and similar in appearance to yours. Alongside these were other photos portraying instead what were unmistakably the victims’ bodies.

You were in complete shock.

What were the odds that the man stalking you was the same Jay was investigating on?

“C’mon let’s go,” Jay put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the break room and closing the door behind him.

You weren't even crying. You were just completely shocked.

“Jay… He…” you stammered as if you were having trouble coordinating your thoughts. He put both of his hands on your shoulders.

“Baby, just breathe okay? Do it with me, take a deep breath.”

You shook yourself out of his grip, now in a panic. How could you calm down?

“He was… He would’ve killed me Jay, like… Like those women… Holy shit…” you continued to babble. You couldn't believe it. You understood that bastard was to be locked up somewhere, but you never, ever imagined he was a serial killer, that he’d done that before to those poor women. What if you didn't fight? What if he managed to overpower you?

Jay closed his hands into a fist, pressing his nails into his palms in an attempt to let out even a tiny bit of the anger, rage and fear he was feeling at the moment.

He didn't even want to imagine it, the thought was enough to make him sick. He didn't want to imagine what could happen to you. He run the risk of losing you forever without even realizing it.

Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't there. He couldn't even pass the idea of not having you next to him, the pain from this thought alone was unbearable and it was enough to make his heart shatter to pieces. Damn it, he asked you to marry him, you were his fiancée, his soon to be wife, the future mother of his children. You had to start a family together, buy a bigger house to raise your children and you’d live and grow old together, forever.

He couldn't accept some son of a bitch threatened to take you away from him, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, the love of his life, his anchor and his salvation.

“What happened to those women?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Baby…”

“No Jay, please, just… Just tell me. What happened to them?”.

Jay took a deep breath, knowing that telling you would only make you feel worse. “No, love. Listen to me now,” he walked over to you, placing a hand on your healthy cheek and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Don't torture yourself like this, it won't do you any good to know, please trust me. You were so brave and you managed to knock out that son of a bitch and now you're here with me, safe, so just think about this okay? I beg you. I don't even want to think about what happened to those poor women, I don't want to think something like that could’ve happened to you and I don't want you to think about it either.”

He was right. You didn't want to know, sometimes it was better to live in the unknown.

“I'm so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as his fingers wiped away your tears with excruciating delicacy. “I would’ve died if anything had happened to you baby, I love you so, so fucking much. I couldn't have survived without you.”

“I love you so much Jay,” you too replied in a whisper before sharing a soft, sweet kiss, your nerves starting to finally calm down. “What happens now?”.

“You’ll stay here and we’ll continue to work non-stop until we catch that bastard.”

“Are you sure I can stay here?”.

“Is this even a question?” He looked at you as if you were an alien “Yes baby, of course you can. You have stay here. I need to know you're safe or I won't be able to think of anything else and I know nothing can happen to you if you’re here. If you need anything call me and I’ll be here okay? Try to get some rest, and put ice on your cheek.”

You nodded, knowing that even you wouldn't feel safe anywhere else but there in the district.

After sitting on the small sofa in the break room you eventually fell asleep, tired and worn out from the shift, the day's events and the lack of sleep from the previous night.

Jay and the rest of the team worked nonstop to try and locate the suspect whose name was still unknown. After learning you had hit his nose and you had probably broken it, they called the hospitals in the area and within a radius of about 20km – deducing he wouldn’t be so stupid to go to the hospital where you worked – with the hope that he’d go to get treated.

This hope turned out to be a reality when Kevin was told by a hospital just outside the city that there was a patient matching the description who was still there waiting to be treated for his broken nose.

When Jay went into the break room to warn you they'd found a lead, his heart skipping a beat seeing you asleep. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your arms folded across your abdomen as your chest slowly rose and fell.

A sad smile spread across his face as he approached you with silent steps, his chest tightening at the sight of that horrible bruise on your cheek. As his eyes roamed on your body, he then noticed some scratches on your forearms and his stomach dropped again for the thousand time that night. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to help you, for failing to realize sooner what was happening, allowing someone to hurt you, he was hating himself for not being there to protect you.

He decided not to wake you up and he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. He kissed your forehead, taking an extra second to savor the moment, grateful to still being able to do it.

“I love you so much my baby,” he whispered, “Everything will be okay, I promise you.”

After telling Trudy to stay by your side and never leave you alone, he headed towards the hospital where the suspect was supposed to be, his blood boiling with anger, his hands shaking with the frenzy of being able to have that son in his hands.

The stalker, however, after seeing the cops coming, didn't hesitate for a second to run away. Jay chased after him, determined not to let him get away.

“Chicago PD! Stop now!” Jay shouted as he quickly descended the emergency stairs and followed the man, skipping a few steps at a time in an attempt to reach him first. The fact the man was injured went to his advantage as Jay took the opportunity to jump on his back, causing both of them to fall heavily to the ground.

Jay's vision immediately blurred with anger.

He punched him in the face, using all the strength he had in his body to hurt him. “Son of a bitch!” He exclaimed through clenched teeth, punching him again and again. He didn't care about anything, he didn't care about the consequences there could be. He just wanted to see him suffer, to see him writhe in pain and fear, just the way you did.

“You made a fucking mistake tonight,” Jay spat, standing up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes before slamming him heavily against the wall. The man coughed, letting out sounds of pain even if Jay couldn't care less. “You'll wish you’d never met her when I'm done with you, you worthless piece of shit.”

He hit him in the face with another punch, not caring about the blood splattered on him after each blow.

He didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. Voight was there and watched the scene without batting an eyelid. He deserved it, he deserved everything Jay would do to him, not just for you but also for those poor women who weren’t lucky enough to survive. He knew there was no way to stop him, even if he wanted to, especially since you were involved.

Jay hit the man's head against the wall, then pushing him to the ground. He approached him and without any mercy and without even acknowledging the man's suffering, he kicked him in the stomach.

“Fuck…” the man murmured weakly.

“Look at me you son of a bitch!” Jay cursed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt again and punching him in the face. “You thought it was fucking fun to hurt my fiancée?!”.

Another strong punch.

“Answer me!” He shouted, knowing he’d not receive a response.

Jay had completely lost control.

His mind was only picturing your wounded and tear-stained face, your terrified expression, your eyes full of tears, the bruises on your arm, on your face, the scratches, the way you hugged him so tightly because of the terror you felt, the fear you must have felt in those weeks.

“You thought you’d get away with it huh?! Making my future wife's life a fucking hell?!” He growled again, kicking this time the man’s face. “Making her scared of her own fucking shadow?!”.

Another kick in the stomach.

He was about to kill him and he didn’t give a fuck.

He bent over the man who was then barely breathing. “Did you like putting your useless dirty hands on my girl, huh?” he hissed as his foot stepped on one of the man’s hand with so much force until he heard his screams and his bones cracking.

He didn't move anymore, now unconscious and covered in his own blood.

Voight intervened at that point, not even knowing if he was alive or not. “That's okay Jay, calm down now.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the unconscious man. Jay was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, his angry eyes still focused on the bastard lying on the ground.

“Now get away from here. Go out from the emergency exit and drive back to your fiancée, you were always there with her okay? I’m sure she needs you now.” Voight had ordered him but Jay didn't respond at first. “Halstead.”

At that point Jay focused his gaze on his boss and nodded feebly, casting one last glance at the stalker before walking away.

He wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief he had found in the car, trying to ignore the pain in his swelled hand, his knuckles red.

He never regretted what he did.

He had always condemned the brutal ways some cops used, like his own boss did sometimes, but in that moment he didn't stop to think about how he’d not hesitate even a second to do it again and make suffer anyone who’d hurt you.

When it came to you he’d lose his mind, his judgment clouded. You were the most important person in his life, the most precious of treasures, and he’d protect you with his own life if he could, if it meant keep you safe forever. It may have seemed an exaggeration, it may have seemed crazy, but he didn't care, God, he would’ve burn the entire city to the ground if it meant protecting you.

And as he drove to the district, eager to see you again, only one thought ran through his mind: how much he regretted not making that piece of shit suffer more.

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enemiestolovershoe · 14 days ago

Text

Bandaged Hearts

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

Summary: YN, a nurse, joins Bad Omens on tour and quickly finds herself patching up chaos. Especially when Noah keeps needing her help more than anything.

Words: 13.3k

Warnings: mention of blood and burn-out, noah crying a lot, smut p in v, oral male recieving, mention of alcohol and drunk people, probably wrong medical stuff

A/N: Some of you may know that I struggled with burn-out not long ago and wanted to write down my feelings in a story

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

When you decided to become a nurse after high school, you never imagined you’d one day find yourself on tour with four rock stars. Yet, somehow, here you were.

Bad Omens had decided they needed a nurse on tour. Mostly because Noah, along with the others had a bad habit of getting hurt during their Europe leg. In addition to that, there was an unusually high number of fans passing out at shows. Matt, their manager and sound engineer, figured it was time to bring someone along full-time. Someone they could trust.

And that’s where you came in.

You and Matt had known each other since high school. You weren't inseparable, but you'd been close once. Over the years, life got in the way, and your conversations had dwindled down to the occasional “Happy birthday” or “Hope you’re doing good” over DM. Nothing serious. So when Matt’s name popped up in your inbox one evening, it caught you completely off guard.

At first, you stared at the message for a solid five minutes, wondering if he sent it by mistake.

mattxdierkes: hey, random question. u still a nurse?

Your brows furrowed. Was he sick? Did he need help? You typed back, thumbs quick on the screen:

You: hey lol yeah i am. everything okay??

The typing bubble popped up immediately.

mattxdierkes: yeah! all good. actually, i might have a weird offer for you.

mattxdierkes: you busy for the next one and a half months?

You sat up a little straighter, heart kicking up.

You: uhh depends?? why?

mattxdierkes: wanna come on tour with me and bad omens? we need a nurse. for real lol.

You: wait WHAT??

mattxdierkes: seriously. think about it. it's chaos out here. noah’s been hurt like 5x already. fans are passing out left and right.

You laughed under your breath, already feeling the rush of adrenaline. Without thinking twice, you fired back:

You: YES. absolutely yes. get me out of this hospital pls.

Matt sent back a string of clapping emojis and a "let's goooo."

You weren’t exaggerating. You were desperate to get out of the hospital you were currently working at. The place was a mess. Short-staffed, overworked, and management was a nightmare. Touring with a rock band felt like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of escape.

And honestly? You needed it.

Which led you here, standing awkwardly at LAX next to the guys from Bad Omens, waiting for your flight to the first stop of the tour. Your suitcases, packed half with your own stuff and half with an overwhelming amount of medical supplies, getting a lot of suspicious looks from security.

A TSA agent flagged you down, pointing at your gear. “What exactly are you transporting, miss?”

You fumbled to pull out your hospital badge. “I’m a registered nurse," you explained quickly. "I’m touring with a band. It's all first aid stuff, I swear.”

The agent wasn’t impressed. "We're going to have to check everything manually."

Cue you, practically begging, “Please, I have to have this. I can show you everything. I’ll unpack it here if you want. Just, please, don’t throw anything away.”

Luckily, after what felt like a lifetime and some intense pleading, they let you through. You shuffled back over to where the band was lounging near the gate.

Noah, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a hoodie pulled low over his eyes, looked up and smirked. "That took forever. Are you smuggling something in a portable hospital or something?"

You rolled your eyes, dropping into a seat beside Matt. "If you keep getting hurt, you're gonna thank me for every Band-Aid in those bags."

Jolly, who was scrolling on his phone, glanced up and grinned. "She’s right. Noah’s a walking disaster."

Matt chuckled, bumping your shoulder with his. "Told you we needed her."

Bryan, sipping a coffee, added, “Just wait till Tomorrow. You haven't seen chaos yet.”

You laughed, already feeling strangely at ease with them.

The flight itself was long but mostly uneventful. You spent most of it flipping through your notes, double-checking that you had packed everything you'd need. When you finally landed and made your way out to the tour buses, you expected to be loaded onto one with the rest of the crew. Other techs, assistants, security. Instead, Matt threw his arm around your shoulders and steered you towards a different bus. “You’re with us,” he said simply.

You blinked. “Wait, with you? Like... with the band?”

Matt laughed. “Yeah. Better to have you close. Trust me, they’re gonna need you."

You climbed aboard, a little stunned, and found a spot by the window. The bus was nicer than you’d expected. Still cramped, but cozy, lived-in. Guitars leaned against the walls. There were random shoes, hoodies, and open bags scattered around. It smelled like cologne and Red Bull.

As the sun dipped lower over the Colorado landscape, painting the sky in oranges and pinks, you settled in, staring out the window in awe.

You didn’t get long to soak it in.

"Uh, nurse!"

You turned to see Noah jogging toward you, clutching his nose, blood streaming down his upper lip.

You scrambled up. "What the hell happened?!"

He grinned sheepishly, blood smeared across his teeth. "Got hit in the face with a soccer ball. Bryan’s got a hell of a kick."

You burst out laughing despite yourself. “Wow, that was fast. Matt didn’t lie about you being a magnet for disaster.”

Noah wiped his hand on his hoodie. "Yeah, well... consider this your welcome gift."

You ushered him over to a bench, pulling out your kit like second nature. "Sit. Tilt your head forward. Not back, you’ll swallow it."

He obeyed, and you expertly pinched the bridge of his nose, grabbing gauze from your bag. “You think you broke it?” you asked, examining the angle.

"Nope. Still pretty," Noah said, grinning at you under his hands.

You rolled your eyes. "Debatable."

Nicholas came up behind him, laughing. "Five minutes on the road and you’re already getting patched up. New record, man."

Jolly leaned against the doorframe, watching. "Should we start a bet? How many times Noah ends up in her care before the tour’s over?"

Matt clapped his hands together. "I’m saying... twenty."

“Twenty?” you gasped, laughing as you taped gauze under Noah’s nose. “You think he’s gonna survive twenty incidents?”

Matt winked. “Optimism, baby.”

Once Noah was fixed up, he sprinted off after the others like nothing happened, yelling about a rematch.

You shook your head, chuckling, wiping your hands with sanitizer. “I’m gonna need hazard pay,” you muttered.

Matt dropped into the seat next to you, tossing you a water bottle. “You’re gonna need a vacation after this tour.”

As the bus rumbled to life and pulled onto the highway, you leaned back, heart hammering in a mix of excitement and nerves. Tomorrow was the first show. You couldn’t lie. You were thrilled... but also kind of terrified.

You’d heard most Bad Omens fans were incredible. Sweet, loyal, passionate.

But you’d also heard the horror stories. The ones who crossed the line. Who could get a little too intense.

You swallowed hard, trying not to overthink it. You were here for a reason. You could handle it.

Before you could spiral into anxiety, the steady hum of the bus and the exhaustion from the day caught up with you, and you drifted off to sleep with the Colorado sunset burning behind your eyelids.

May 4th, 2023. Greenwood Village, CO

It was the first night of the US leg of the tour.

The show had just ended, and the air was thick, electric with adrenaline, sweat, and that heady buzz that only comes after a live show. Voices echoed in the distance, roadies shouting instructions, the hum of equipment being packed up filling the background.

You were near the stairs, crouched down, carefully repacking your first aid kit. All in all, it hadn’t been a bad night. Only two fans had fainted. Way less than you had mentally prepared for.

You blew out a quiet breath, feeling the tension slowly start to leave your body. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be as crazy as you thought.

But then you heard it.

Folio's voice was sharp and low. Cutting through the noise.

"Noah, dude. Are you fucking bleeding?"

Your head snapped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, the ice pack you were holding slipping from your hand and hitting the ground with a soft thud.

The others turned too. Jolly, who had been laughing with Nicholas a second earlier, immediately went serious. Bryan swore under his breath and started making his way over. Matt was already striding across the floor with a grim look on his face.

You rushed forward, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Noah was limping slightly, the hem of his shirt torn and stained dark. A deep, ugly gash ran along his left side just under his ribs. Blood was soaking through the fabric, the red spreading fast, and though his face was mostly stoic, you caught the tightness around his mouth, the way his jaw was clenched.

"What the fuck happened?" you demanded, pulling on gloves as you closed the distance.

Noah gave a lopsided shrug, the movement making him wince. "Crowd was fucking insane. I went down to the barricade and..."

He hissed as you pulled the hem of his shirt up to inspect the damage.

"Someone had sharp rings or something. I don't know," he gritted out.

"Jesus, Noah," you muttered under your breath, already reaching for antiseptic.

You eased him down into a nearby folding chair, steadying him with a hand on his good side. He sank into it with a grunt, his fingers curling tightly around the seat.

As you peeled the bloodied fabric back more, you got a better look at the wound. It was deep. Deeper than you’d hoped.

"This needs stitches," you said, your voice firm.

Noah tensed the second the antiseptic touched the wound, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth.

"I’ll be fine," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just slap a Band-Aid on it."

You shot him a look so sharp it could cut through steel. "Yeah, not happening."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, cocky and stubborn as ever. But the pain was starting to show through now, flashing in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

"Stay still," you ordered, reaching for your suture kit.

Around you, the other guys hovered. Nicholas running a hand through his hair, looking stressed. Folio pacing a few steps away, muttering curses. Jolly standing silently with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in worry. Matt leaned against the wall nearby, arms folded, watching with a grim set to his mouth.

"You need to be more careful," you muttered under your breath as you threaded the needle, your fingers steady despite the adrenaline thrumming through you.

"Some of your fans are sweet," you said, glancing up at him as you tied off the thread. "Some of them are psychos."

Noah chuckled low in his throat, though it quickly morphed into a grimace of pain.

"Please," he said, gritting his teeth as you pushed the needle through his skin, "you sound like Matt now."

Matt snorted in the corner, shaking his head. "Because I'm right."

You focused on your work, the neat, practiced rhythm of stitching. "You keep playing tough with them, you’re gonna run out of skin to patch," you said under your breath.

Noah was quiet for a second.

Then, softer, he said, "Good thing I’ve got you then."

You felt your face heat up slightly, but you didn’t let it show. You just smirked a little to yourself, tying off the last stitch with a neat knot.

Behind you, Matt groaned dramatically. "Oh my God. I’m gonna puke," he said, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he saw his own brain.

Nicholas barked out a laugh, and even Jolly cracked a smile.

You sat back, snapping your gloves off with a satisfied little pop.

"There," you said, giving Noah a pointed look. "You're patched up. Try not to get stabbed again for at least twenty-four hours."

Noah grinned at you, lopsided and a little too charming for someone who was literally dripping blood a few minutes ago.

"No promises," he said.

Matt muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "fucking idiot," under his breath, but there was no real heat behind it.

You grabbed fresh gauze and tape, wrapping Noah's side carefully while the others started gathering their stuff for load-out.

The adrenaline was still buzzing in your veins, but under it, there was something else too.

Something steady.

A feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

May 6th, 2023. Atlantic City, NJ

Two days later, chaos found you again.

The bus door slammed open with a loud bang, rattling against the hinges. You jerked your head up from where you were sitting, surrounded by a mess of supplies. You were halfway through reorganizing your gear case.

Noah stumbled inside, grinning like an absolute maniac, breathing hard like he’d just sprinted across the lot.

"Yo!" he gasped, practically bouncing on his heels.

You narrowed your eyes immediately, already suspicious. "What?" you asked, your voice wary.

Noah didn’t say anything right away. He just lifted his shirt.

Your stomach dropped.

Three of the stitches you had so carefully placed had split open. Blood welled up, fresh and vivid, a dark smear against the pale skin of his side.

"Noah..." you groaned, your voice filled with exhausted disbelief.

He winced, but still somehow managed to look smug. "I was just messing around with Nick and Jolly," he said, like that somehow made it better. "Someone shoved me."

You dropped your forehead briefly into your hand, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself into motion.

"You're unbelievable," you muttered, already snapping on a pair of gloves and grabbing fresh gauze from your kit.

Noah flopped down onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, spreading his arms over the back like he hadn’t just reopened a literal wound.

"You need to be more careful, Noah," you said, voice sharper now as you knelt beside him.

He shrugged one shoulder, the motion stiff. "It didn’t hurt at first," he admitted, watching you work.

"That's because you're running on fumes and pure stubbornness," you said, pressing gauze firmly against the bleeding. He winced but didn’t pull away.

This time, the mood shifted.

Noah grew quieter, less cocky. The air between you softened, humming with something you didn’t dare name yet.

He watched you from under his lashes as you cleaned the wound carefully. His voice, when he spoke next, was softer. Almost shy.

"I like it when you fix me up," he said, almost whispering.

Your hands faltered for a fraction of a second before you quickly busied yourself threading the needle again.

"Stop needing to be fixed," you muttered back, not daring to meet his eyes.

You placed the last stitch with careful, practiced movements, tying it off neatly. You grabbed a large band-aid from your kit and smoothed it over the fresh stitches with a gentle touch.

Just as you were finishing, the bus door swung open again.

Matt stepped inside, sunglasses perched on his head, a coffee in one hand and pure exasperation written all over his face.

"Seriously, Noah? Again?" Matt said, staring at the scene like he was physically in pain.

Noah immediately pointed an accusing finger at the empty air behind Matt. "Nicolas shoved me!" he blurted defensively.

Matt snorted, completely unimpressed. "Yeah, and I'm sure you were being a perfect angel, huh?"

Noah grinned wide, still unapologetic.

Matt turned his gaze to you, raising his coffee cup slightly in salute. "Well, Y/N, good thing I brought you along," he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

You finished taping down the bandage and sat back on your heels, glaring playfully at Noah.

"At this rate," you said dryly, "I'm gonna need a punch card for every time I patch him up. Free coffee on your tenth visit or something."

Matt laughed, ruffling Noah’s hair roughly as he walked by.

"Just try not to need a full body cast before the end of the week, alright?" Matt called over his shoulder as he disappeared toward the back of the bus.

Noah looked down at you, a lazy smile pulling at his mouth, the trouble still glittering behind his eyes.

"No promises," he said, his voice low and teasing.

You shook your head at him, trying and failing to hide the little smile tugging at your lips as you began cleaning up your supplies again.

May 12th, 2023. Oklahoma City, OK

It started subtly.

At first, you almost missed it.

Noah still laughed, but a little less each day. His smile was still there too, but it no longer touched his eyes.

He pounded back energy drinks like they were oxygen, but his untouched plates after catering told a different story.

The dark circles under his eyes deepened, blooming like bruises only you seemed to notice.

So you started watching him. Closer.

During soundcheck, you kept your gaze on him between pretending to organize your kit.

Backstage, when the others joked and killed time, you caught him zoning out.

Even during the shows, when you usually hung out by the side of the stage, half-watching, half-on alert for emergencies. Your eyes always found him.

You saw it happen once. Just once.

A missed cue.

No one said anything, and the fans probably didn’t notice.

But you caught the way his whole body stiffened, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying to hold in a scream.

You didn’t say anything then. Not yet.

Tonight wasn’t any different.

Noah hadn’t eaten a single thing all day.

You noticed.

And from the look Jolly shot him as they prepped for the show, you knew he noticed too.

"Yo, dude. You good?" Jolly asked, keeping his voice casual but his eyes sharp. He was standing a few feet away, bass slung over his shoulder, adjusting his strap absently.

Noah barely looked up from where he was tuning his mic.

"You look like you haven't slept in like a month," Jolly added, his tone light but his frown deepening.

"I'm fine," Noah said immediately, a little too fast, a little too sharp.

You crossed your arms, leaning against a case of cables.

"You've said that every day," you muttered under your breath, not even bothering to mask the doubt in your voice.

For the first time, Noah really looked at you.

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, like he hadn’t expected you to call him out. Like he hadn’t realized you'd been watching him this closely.

But he didn’t say anything.

He just smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching up automatically, but it didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.

You caught Folio’s eye across the room as he slipped his sticks into his back pocket.

He gave you a small nod, subtle but clear. He saw it too.

"Watch him tonight," Folio said quietly, lowering his voice as he moved closer to you. His shoulder brushed yours briefly, grounding you in the buzzing chaos of the backstage area.

"He's burnin' at both ends," Folio murmured, his eyes following Noah’s hunched figure as he adjusted his mic stand again, like if he just tweaked it a little more, maybe everything else would fall into place too.

You nodded slowly, feeling that same knot tighten in your chest.

"He’s been like that for a while now," Folio added, his voice almost lost under the thrum of bass leaking from the stage monitors.

You stayed quiet for a moment, watching Noah’s hands tremble slightly as he tightened a strap that didn’t need tightening.

Something had to give.

You just hoped you noticed before it did.

May 17th, 2023. Birmingham, AL

The venue was pure chaos.

Crew members shouted over each other, cables snaked like vines across the floor, and Matt was in the center of it all, pacing back and forth with his headset slipping off one ear, practically vibrating with frustration.

"I swear, if this rig doesn’t work..." Matt barked into his iPad, jabbing at the screen like it personally offended him. His voice was sharp, his free hand tugging at his hair as he disappeared backstage again, still muttering threats under his breath.

You caught Noah sitting off to the side, slouched deep into the corner of a battered leather couch, a strange calm settled over him.

Too calm.

You made your way over, weaving through the equipment cases and stressed-out techs, and dropped down beside him.

Without thinking, you reached out and ran your hand gently along his arm, grounding him, needing the contact almost as much as he did.

"Relieved?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice low so it wouldn’t get swallowed by the madness around you.

He shrugged, a hollow, almost resigned gesture.

"If we can’t play," he said, his tone light but empty, "I can’t fail tonight."

Your stomach twisted sharply.

"Noah..." you said, leaning in closer, wishing he would really hear you. "You don’t fail. You play your heart out. You are human, Noah."

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric like he needed something to do with his hands.

"Some nights," he finally said, voice low, almost like he was talking to himself, "it’s all muscle memory. I’m not even there anymore."

The admission hit you harder than you expected.

You wanted to say something. Anything. Anything to pull him back from wherever his mind was spiraling.

But before you could find the words, Matt stormed past again, looking like he was two seconds from throwing the iPad across the venue.

"We go live in twenty or we cancel!" Matt barked, whirling around. "I need a decision, Noah!"

Noah didn’t even flinch.

He just kept staring at the floor, like Matt’s voice was miles away.

He didn’t answer.

You bit your lip, heart pounding. You reached out again, this time catching his hand, lacing your fingers through his. You squeezed gently, trying to anchor him back to you, to now.

"Are you okay?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

For a second, he just looked at your hands, at the way your fingers were twined with his.

Then he lifted his gaze to yours.

All the walls he usually kept up. The jokes, the stubbornness, the cocky smiles. They were gone.

Just him. Raw. Tired. Frayed at every edge.

"No," he said quietly.

And the honesty in that one word nearly broke you.

May 18th, 2023. Chattanooga, TN

The day was brutal.

The kind of heat that clung to your skin like syrup, thick and heavy, making it hard to even think about moving.

It was 103 degrees outside and somehow even hotter inside the venue.

Everyone was soaked through, faces flushed, moving like they were dragging invisible weights behind them.

Everyone except Noah.

He tore around the place like a man possessed.

Running from soundcheck, to fan meet-and-greets, to helping the crew set up some lighting rig he probably had no business touching.

You watched him dart past again, carrying a case that looked twice his size, face red and sweat dripping down his neck. Like he thought if he just moved fast enough, he could outrun the exhaustion setting into his bones.

You snapped.

"Hydrate or I’m taping you to a chair!" you yelled, loud enough that a few heads turned.

Noah barely even slowed down.

He shot you a breathless grin over his shoulder.

"After the set!" he called back like it was a promise and not a blatant lie.

You let out a frustrated groan and turned, locking eyes with Jolly across the stage.

He gave you a look. One of those yep, he’s gonna crash and burn looks.

You returned it with a sharp nod.

Jolly wasn’t stupid. He knew it too.

Noah was running on empty, stubbornness, and whatever caffeine he could find lying around.

You pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, feeling the heat and the headache building behind your eyes.

You needed to talk to Matt.

You wanted to talk to Matt.

You had tried, more than once.

But every time you cornered him. Backstage, by the bus, anywhere you could grab five minutes, something pulled him away.

A tech problem.

A schedule change.

Another fan emergency.

And meanwhile, Noah just kept pushing himself harder, burning brighter, burning faster.

You clenched your fists at your sides, watching him disappear into the maze of cables and crew.

You were running out of time to stop him before he finally broke.

After the final chord of the set rang out, the lights dropped, the roar of the crowd echoing through the venue like a heartbeat.

And so did he.

One second Noah was standing behind the curtain, the adrenaline still buzzing off him in waves.

The next, he crumpled to the floor.

For a moment, everything else stopped.

The world narrowed to a single point.

Folio was the first to move.

"Shit! Someone get over here!" he shouted, his drumsticks clattering to the ground as he dropped down beside Noah.

You sprinted across the stage, heart hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt.

"Hydration tab, now! Get water! Cold towels!" you barked, voice slicing through the confusion.

Jolly didn’t hesitate, bolting toward the coolers.

Nicholas was already shouting at the nearby staff, waving them frantically over.

You dropped to your knees beside Noah, hands moving without even thinking.

You pressed your palm to his cheek and forehead.

It was burning hot, skin flushed and damp with sweat.

"Noah," you whispered, leaning close. "Hey, come on, open your eyes."

Slowly, like it physically hurt him to do it, his eyelids fluttered.

Glassiness swam in his gaze as he tried to focus on you.

"Fuck..." he croaked, voice hoarse and ragged. "Did I pass out?"

You exhaled sharply, part relief, part frustration, part absolute panic.

"Yes, you did," you snapped, yanking a cold towel from Jolly’s hand the second he reappeared.

"And next time you ignore me," you added, pressing the towel to the back of Noah's neck, "I'm dragging you off stage myself."

A weak, lopsided smile ghosted across Noah’s lips.

"Can’t tell if you’re mad or worried," he muttered, trying to joke, but even that sounded strained.

"Both," you said, voice cracking despite yourself.

The tears stung the corners of your eyes but you blinked them back fiercely, refusing to lose it here.

You heard Matt cursing under his breath behind you but you barely registered anything except Noah.

He let his head loll back, breathing shallow and uneven, trusting you to put him back together again.

Back at the bus, you didn’t leave his side.

You hovered like a ghost, silently switching out cold towels, forcing him to sip water every twenty minutes, even when he tried to bat your hands away with sleepy protests.

Every time he drifted too far, every time his skin stayed too hot for too long, your chest tightened painfully.

You watched him carefully, the way someone watches something precious they are terrified of losing.

Because no matter how stubborn he was, no matter how much he tried to hide it...

Tonight proved it.

He wasn’t invincible.

May 19th, 2023. Asheville, NC

You couldn’t find Noah anywhere after the soundcheck.

It wasn’t like him to just vanish.

Not unless something was really wrong.

You asked around but no one had seen him.

Finally, Folio caught your sleeve as you passed, his face creased with worry.

"Check the hallway behind the storage crates," he said quietly. "He’s... he’s not doing great."

Your heart dropped.

You moved quickly, weaving past cases and gear and tangled cables until the hallway narrowed and dimmed.

And there he was.

Curled up in a corner, half hidden by towering crates, hoodie pulled up over his head like a shield.

His hands were trembling visibly.

His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his face was buried deep into his folded arms.

It looked like he wanted to disappear.

You sank slowly beside him, careful not to startle him.

"Hey..." you said softly.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t lift his head.

Didn’t even flinch.

"I brought snacks and sarcasm," you added, trying to coax a smile out of him. "Best of both worlds."

Still nothing.

The silence between you stretched long and thin.

You hesitated for a second, then reached out, placing your hand gently on his shoulder.

He flinched but didn’t pull away.

And then, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it, he whispered,

"I don’t feel like me anymore."

Your chest ached so fiercely it hurt to breathe.

You squeezed his shoulder, grounding him.

"You don’t have to feel okay all the time," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

"You just have to let someone in, Noah."

He finally lifted his head a little, just enough for you to see his face.

Red-rimmed eyes. Tear tracks glistening on flushed cheeks.

The kind of broken look that cracked you right down the middle.

"I’m fine," he rasped, but his voice was so raw, so hollow, it shattered the lie before it even finished leaving his mouth.

"You’re crying," you pointed out softly, not accusing, just stating the truth he didn’t want to admit.

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t make some sarcastic remark to deflect.

He just wiped at his face angrily with the sleeve of his hoodie, like he could erase the weakness if he scrubbed hard enough.

"I don’t know how to keep up anymore," he whispered, voice cracking.

"Every night I feel like I’m falling apart. And I still go back out there... like it’s nothing. Like I’m supposed to pretend it doesn’t feel like everything inside me is breaking."

You slid closer, closing the distance between you until your knees bumped.

You didn’t say anything yet.

You just sat with him in the dark.

Letting him know he wasn’t alone.

He let out a shaky breath, hands digging into his hair, gripping it like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer force.

"It’s like... like no matter what I do, it’s never enough," he choked out.

"I scream my lungs out and I still wonder if they even hear me. I give everything and I still feel empty. I get up there every night and... it’s like... it’s like I’m screaming into a void that doesn’t care if I bleed."

The words tumbled out faster now, years of pressure cracking wide open.

His whole body was shaking.

You could see how hard he was trying not to completely fall apart.

But it was too much.

Finally, finally, the dam broke.

Noah pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Harsh, broken sounds ripped from his chest, and you didn’t hesitate. You pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around him tight, letting him bury his face into your shoulder.

"I’m right here," you murmured, rocking him slightly as he fell apart in your arms.

"You don’t have to do this alone. You’re not alone, Noah."

He clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling through the cracks.

May 21st, 2023. Myrtle Beach, SC

Matt scratched the back of his neck, wincing like he was about to get punched.

"Okay, uh… so I messed up the hotel reservations," he said, not meeting your eyes.

You blinked at him.

Noah, standing beside you, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"How bad?" Noah asked flatly.

Matt grimaced. "You two have to share a room."

Noah's brow lifted higher, amused. "One bed?"

Matt nodded, looking thoroughly miserable. "Yeah. I booked a room too less. It’s either share or one of you sleeps in the hallway."

You exchanged a glance with Noah. He shrugged, not looking particularly bothered.

"Fine by me," he said, already grabbing his bag. "Not the weirdest thing that's happened this week."

Later that night, the room was quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner.

You lay in bed, facing the ceiling, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing.

Across from you, you heard Noah tossing and turning, the sheets rustling with every frustrated movement.

You turned your head toward him.

"Noah?" you whispered into the dark.

No answer.

Only the faintest sound of whimpering.

You sat up quickly, heart tightening painfully in your chest.

He was thrashing lightly, trapped somewhere deep inside a nightmare.

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm.

He jerked awake with a sharp gasp, body tensing under your touch. His eyes were wide and wild, chest heaving like he couldn’t get enough air.

"Hey, hey," you said softly, keeping your voice low and soothing. "It’s just me. You’re safe. I’m right here."

He blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself.

Sweat clung to his forehead, and his whole body trembled.

"I’m here," you repeated, sliding a little closer so he could see you clearly. "You’re okay, Noah. It’s over."

He nodded shakily and laid back down, but you could still see the way his hands fisted into the sheets, how hard he was breathing like the fear hadn’t left him yet.

You hesitated, then asked gently, "Wanna talk about it?"

He didn’t answer right away.

For a moment, you thought he might brush it off like he usually did.

But then, voice rough and broken, he whispered,

"I dreamt... I dreamt that I was on stage and the lights were so bright, I couldn’t see. I kept singing but... no one was there. The whole place was empty."

You listened, heart breaking all over again.

"I screamed until my throat bled," he continued, voice cracking. "But there was just... silence. Nothing. No one cared. I was just... standing there, bleeding and screaming into nothing."

His voice broke completely then, a sharp, aching sound he couldn’t hide.

Tears slid down his cheeks, and he angrily wiped at them, frustrated at himself for crying.

Without thinking, you shifted closer and pulled him gently into your arms.

At first, he stiffened, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the comfort.

But then he sagged against you, all the fight draining from him.

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, letting him bury his face against your shoulder.

He clung to you like a lifeline, silent tears soaking into your shirt.

"I’ve got you," you murmured into his hair, one hand stroking slow, steady circles across his back.

"You’re not alone, Noah. You’re never alone."

He didn’t speak again.

Eventually, his breathing evened out, his body relaxing bit by bit as exhaustion pulled him under.

You stayed awake a while longer, holding him, making sure the nightmares stayed away.

May 23rd, 2023. Raleigh, NC

Noah had stormed off after the set, slipping away before anyone could stop him.

Now, hours later, the exhaustion was bone-deep.

You and Folio had spent the night combing the streets around the hotel, scanning alleys and bars and parking lots with growing desperation.

Jolly and Nicholas stayed back by the bus, just in case Noah circled back on his own.

Matt paced the hotel lobby, phone glued to his ear, barking into voicemails that never got answered.

By 2 AM, you and Folio finally dragged yourselves back to the lobby, shoulders slumped, defeated.

Matt sat hunched in an armchair, head buried in his hands. He looked up at the sound of the doors swinging open.

"Nothing?" Matt asked, voice raw.

You opened your mouth to answer, but the hotel door creaked again.

Everyone's head snapped toward the entrance.

Noah stood there.

Eyes glassy and distant.

Blood dripping from his hand.

His hoodie was half-off one shoulder, his knuckles scraped raw.

"Noah," you gasped, breaking into a sprint. You reached him first, hands hovering, unsure where to touch. "What did you do?"

He gave a crooked, exhausted smile.

"Got into a fight. With a wall. I think the wall won."

You turned sharply to look at Matt, then at Folio.

"Noah… are you drunk?" Matt asked carefully, stepping closer.

Noah shrugged, swaying slightly on his feet. "Maybe?"

Without another word, you took his arm. Gently but firmly and started leading him toward the elevators.

Matt and Folio were right behind you.

"I’m gonna text Jolly and Nicholas. Let them know we found him," Matt muttered, pulling out his phone.

In the elevator, the silence was heavy.

Noah leaned against the wall, eyes half-shut, a thin trail of blood still dripping onto the floor.

You squeezed his arm lightly, a silent reassurance.

Back in your hotel room, Noah slumped down at the end of the bed without needing to be told.

Folio dropped onto the mattress beside him, keeping a steady hand on Noah’s back to ground him.

Matt helped you drag out your medical kit, spreading gauze, antiseptic, and bandages across the desk.

"Alright, superhero," you said softly, kneeling in front of him. "Let’s see the damage."

You pulled a pair of gloves on and gently took his hand. His knuckles were split open, deep enough that the blood still oozed slow and steady.

You cleaned the wounds carefully, muttering soothing nonsense under your breath.

Noah hissed once when the antiseptic hit, but otherwise stayed quiet, gaze locked somewhere far away.

You stitched him up slowly, methodically, threading needle through torn skin while Folio kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

You wrapped his hand tightly in clean bandages, smoothing the tape down with extra care.

Just as you were finishing the last knot, Noah’s voice broke the silence.

A whisper. Barely audible.

"I can't do this anymore."

Everything in the room froze.

Matt’s head snapped up. Folio’s hand stilled against Noah’s back.

You looked up at him, heart thudding.

Matt was the first to speak. "Do what?" he asked, voice rough with confusion.

Before Noah could choke out a reply, you answered for him, standing slowly, your hands trembling with the force of your emotions.

"Matt," you said sharply. "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice."

Matt blinked at you, confused and tired.

"Notice what?"

You turned, pointing gently toward Noah, who sat crumpled and small at the edge of the bed.

"Matt, he’s completely drained. Burned out. He needs to rest. He’s been running himself into the ground for weeks. And no one said anything."

As you spoke, Noah’s shoulders shook silently.

At first, none of you noticed.

But then Folio’s eyes widened slightly, and he reached out, pulling Noah into a side hug.

You dropped down in front of him again, placing your hands carefully on his upper arms, grounding him, anchoring him.

You could feel the way he trembled under your touch.

Silent tears streamed down Noah’s face, raw and unguarded.

He buried his head against Folio’s shoulder, his entire body curling in on itself like he was trying to disappear.

"Hey, Noah," you whispered, voice thick with emotion, "it’s gonna be okay. We’re here. You have us. You’re not alone."

Matt knelt down beside you, guilt etched deep into his face.

"Dude… I’m so sorry," Matt said hoarsely. "I didn’t notice. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry, man."

Noah didn’t answer, just shook harder.

Matt reached out too, squeezing Noah’s other shoulder gently.

"We’ll figure something out," Matt promised quietly. "Together. I swear. You’re not gonna carry this by yourself anymore."

The four of you stayed like that for a long time.

No one in a rush to move.

No one willing to leave Noah alone in the dark again.

May 24th, 2023. Raleigh, NC

Matt had cleared Noah’s schedule for the day. No meet-and-greets, no soundcheck, no interviews. Just rest.

You were relieved. Honestly, both of you were. Noah had barely been holding it together lately, and today felt like a breath finally being let out.

Now, you sat side-by-side on the roof of the tour bus, lemon sodas sweating in your hands, the metal warm beneath you from the day’s heat. The sunset dripped pink and orange across the horizon, smearing the sky like someone had taken a paintbrush and dragged it carelessly. It was beautiful in that messy, aching kind of way.

Noah had slept nearly the whole day. He needed it, that was obvious. Even now, he still looked tired. His hair was messy, pushed back by the breeze, and he hadn't even bothered with shoes, just socks against the roof.

For a long time, you didn’t speak. The cicadas buzzed somewhere off in the trees, the distant hum of the city behind it. Noah tapped his thumb slowly against the side of his can, staring off at nothing.

Then, quietly, like he was almost afraid to say it aloud, he said,

"I’m feeling like I’m watching my dream rot."

You turned immediately, heart squeezing at the sound of his voice. The way it cracked slightly at the edges. He wasn’t looking at you; he was staring down into the opening of his soda can like it held the answers.

"I love this," he added after a second, almost like he had to defend himself. "I do. But... I’m crumbling."

You shifted closer without thinking, setting your can down with a soft clink against the metal. You reached for him, your fingers brushing against his knuckles first before you threaded your hand through his and squeezed gently. His skin was a little cool from the drink, but his grip tightened around yours immediately, like he’d been waiting for something to anchor him.

"Hey," you said softly, squeezing again until he finally looked at you. His eyes were tired, rimmed in faint red, but they were open. "You’re not crumbling. You’re tired. There’s a difference."

Noah let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite.

"Feels the same," he muttered.

"It’s not," you insisted. "You’re not failing. You’re just... human. Even superheroes get tired, you know."

Noah smiled a little at that. Small, crooked. But it was the first real smile you’d seen from him all day.

"I don’t feel very super lately," he said, voice low. He leaned his head back until it rested lightly against your shoulder. You didn’t move, just adjusted slightly so he’d be more comfortable.

"You don’t have to be," you murmured, looking out at the sky as it deepened into darker pinks and purples. "You just have to be Noah. That’s more than enough."

He didn’t say anything for a moment. You felt the slow, steady pull of his breathing. The way he let himself be with you, no expectations, no pressure. Just the two of you, lemon sodas, and the endless Carolina sky above you.

"Thank you," he said finally, so soft you almost missed it.

You turned your head slightly, resting your cheek lightly against his hair. "Always."

Noah smiled again. Wider this time, the kind that touched his eyes and squeezed your hand back.

May 25th, 2023. Columbus, OH

The yelling echoed through the venue, sharp and unignorable even from the other side where you sat at your makeshift med station, repacking the first-aid supplies from the night before.

You didn’t need to hear every word to understand the heart of it. Voices cracking against the high ceilings, desperate and worn.

"Pressure,"

"Unfair,"

"Fucking tired."

The words carried like smoke, seeping through walls, curling around you even though you tried to focus on your work. You bit your lip, glancing toward the heavy curtains that separated you from the chaos.

Then. A shift.

The curtains stirred, and there he was.

Noah.

Eyes glassy, face pale, shoulders hunched in defeat like the weight of the whole world was tethered to his spine. He looked smaller than usual, like the fight had finally drained out of him.

"I didn’t know where else to go," he said, voice cracking halfway through.

You didn’t think. You dropped the gauze onto the table and immediately opened your arms.

He stumbled forward without hesitation, collapsing into you with the kind of force that made you take a step back to steady both of you. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer will.

You held him tightly, hands splayed across his back, anchoring him to you.

"I’m losing everyone," he whispered, the words trembling against your skin.

You shook your head, speaking firmly even though your heart was breaking for him.

"You haven’t lost me," you said, brushing your hand up and down his back in slow, soothing motions. "And you won’t lose the others, Noah. It’s just... it’s hard for them to see you breaking down. They don’t know how to help yet. But they love you. They're just scared too."

He clung tighter at that, fingers bunching into the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid letting go would mean unraveling completely.

"I don’t want to be broken," he choked out.

You pulled back just enough to cup his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you. His cheeks were damp, lashes clumped together. You wiped the tears away with your thumbs, gentle but sure.

"You're not broken," you said, voice steady. "You're hurting. There's a difference. Broken means you can't be fixed. And you're still here, Noah. Still fighting. That’s not broken. That’s brave."

For a second, he just stared at you, breathing unevenly. You could see the battle in his eyes. The part of him that wanted to believe you, and the part of him that was still drowning.

Then. Noises from the hallway.

Heavy footsteps. Voices calling out.

"Noah?"

"Bro, where are you?"

"Come on, man, just talk to us!"

You turned, still keeping a steadying hand on Noah's back as the curtains shifted again.

First Nicholas, looking frantic and guilty. Then Matt, Jolly, and Folio right behind him.

They all stopped short when they saw you holding him, the tension immediately dropping from their shoulders.

"There you are," Matt breathed, stepping forward. His voice was soft, careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal.

Nicholas scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting from Noah to you, clearly unsure how to start.

"We didn’t mean to..." Jolly started, but faltered. "We’re just worried, man."

Folio stepped in next, crouching slightly to be on Noah’s eye level even though he wasn’t sure Noah would look up.

"You’re not losing us," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Okay? You’re stuck with us, like it or not."

Nicholas took a tentative step closer, heart in his throat.

"We get it now," he said, voice rough. "We should’ve... we should’ve seen it sooner. You’re not alone in this, Noah. You never were."

Matt gave a small, almost sad smile, hands in his hoodie pocket.

"You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, dude. Let us help. Let us be here for you."

Slowly, Noah pulled his face from your shoulder, blinking like he was still trying to process that they were really there, that they meant it.

"Even if you’re tired... even if you feel broken..." Jolly added, "We’re still here. Always."

For a beat, nobody moved.

Then Nicholas crossed the space first, wrapping his arms around Noah from the side. Matt and Jolly followed, piling into the hug, Folio throwing his arms over all of them. You felt yourself getting caught up in it too, squeezed between them, the warmth and pressure a tangible reminder: he wasn’t alone. Not even close.

Noah let out a wet, shaky laugh against your shoulder, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief.

"I’m sorry," he muttered.

"Don’t be sorry, bro," Matt said immediately. "We’re sorry for not seeing it sooner."

"We love you, man," Nicholas added, squeezing his shoulder tightly. "Nothing’s gonna change that."

Noah sniffled, a real, soft smile finally pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Love you guys too," he said, voice hoarse but real.

They all held on a little tighter at that.

May 26th, 2023. Grand Rapids, MI

The final note still echoed through the venue, vibrating through the floorboards and into the bones of everyone there. The crowd’s deafening roar followed it, washing over the stage like a tidal wave. But to Noah, it sounded far away, muted, like he was underwater.

He strode offstage, mic still clenched tightly in his hand, each step toward the wings making his chest pull tighter, breath harder to catch.

You were waiting just beyond the curtain, heart hammering painfully in your chest as you caught sight of him.

Noah barely made it two more steps before he sank to his knees against the wall, the mic slipping from his fingers and clattering softly onto the ground. His shoulders trembled, silent sobs already racking his body.

Without thinking, you dropped to your knees beside him, gathering him up into your arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t resist. He folded into you immediately, forehead pressing against your collarbone, fists clutching weakly at your shirt.

A handful of crew members stopped nearby, uncertainty written across their faces. Nobody quite knew whether to step in or give space.

Then Matt rounded the corner, jogging lightly toward the commotion, and stopped dead when he saw Noah crumpled in your arms. His face paled, concern flooding every line of his body.

"Noah?" Matt whispered, voice breaking the stillness like glass.

Through the haze of tears, Noah just shook his head fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. His voice, when it came, was barely audible:

"Too loud," he choked out. "Too many eyes."

You tightened your arms around him, pressing a soft, grounding kiss against his temple. His skin was clammy under your lips, and your heart ached.

"You were incredible tonight," you whispered, close enough that only he could hear. "You always are, Noah. Every single night."

Noah shuddered, and then his whole body seemed to go limp against you, the fight bleeding out of him all at once.

You rocked him gently, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"It’s okay to break," you murmured, lips brushing against his hair. "I’ve got you. Always."

Matt dropped to his knees opposite you without hesitation, already pulling his radio up to his mouth to quietly call for a water bottle and a towel. His movements were quick but careful, trying not to overwhelm Noah more.

Nicholas appeared next, his face tight with worry. He fumbled for the tissue packet in his back pocket and held it out with shaking fingers.

Jolly knelt down too, resting a broad, steady hand on Noah’s trembling shoulder, grounding him without crowding him.

Folio crouched on Noah’s other side, not saying a word. Just placing a firm, reassuring hand on Noah’s knee, a silent I'm here.

For a few moments, the world outside the curtain didn't exist. Just the soft clatter of the crew moving quietly, the distant thrum of the leaving crowd unaware of the scene unfolding backstage, and the fragile, heavy breathing of the boy in your arms.

Noah finally lifted his head slightly, blinking hard against the tears still clinging to his lashes. His red-rimmed, glassy eyes found yours first, locking onto you like you were the only steady thing in a world still spinning too fast.

"Thank you," he rasped, the words raw but full of meaning.

You brushed his hair back from his forehead gently, giving him a soft, reassuring smile.

"Always," you whispered back. "Always, Noah."

The others stayed close, creating a protective circle around him without ever making him feel trapped.

The room was suffused with a kind of tender, unspoken hush. A reverence for the moment, for the break in Noah’s armor, for the way love sometimes looked less like loud declarations and more like quiet presence.

You tightened your arms around him slightly, feeling the subtle way he leaned into your touch, trusting you, trusting all of them.

Here, in the dim backstage of a roaring venue, you held him steady. Not in secret, not hidden. But right in front of everyone who cared more than they had ever admitted out loud.

And they would be here, you all silently promised, for as long as he needed.

May 27th, 2023. St. Louis, MO

It was just past 2AM when a soft, hesitant knock at your bunk pulled you from the edges of sleep.

You blinked groggily, heart already tightening a little because you knew exactly who it would be.

"Hey," came Noah’s voice, a rough, trembling whisper through the thin fabric. "I can’t sleep."

You reached out, pulling the curtain open just enough to see him standing there barefoot, in sweatpants and a hoodie that looked a size too big on him. Eyes glassy, skin pale in the dim blue emergency lights lining the bus hallway.

You didn’t hesitate. You patted the little empty space beside you, lifting the blanket invitingly.

"Hop in," you said softly, your voice still raspy from sleep.

Noah didn’t need to be told twice. He ducked his head and slithered under the covers with you in the way to tight bunk, moving slowly, like he was trying not to break something fragile.

As soon as he was close enough, you shifted to make room, wrapping an arm securely around his middle and pulling him into your chest. His body was stiff at first. Wired with exhaustion and whatever storm still brewed in his chest. But the second your hand splayed across his back, he melted against you.

"Your hoodie smells like home," he whispered, voice muffled against your shoulder. His cheek pressed into you, seeking every ounce of comfort you could give.

You smiled softly, threading your fingers gently through his hair, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp the way you knew soothed him.

"I’m right here," you murmured, pressing your lips to the top of his head.

Noah breathed in. Sharp at first, a stuttering inhale like he was trying not to cry again. Relief. Exhaustion. Safety. All wrapped up into one broken, beautiful breath.

You tucked his arm securely across your waist, holding it there with your hand so he’d feel anchored, tethered to something solid.

"Sleep now," you whispered against his hair. "You need it, Noah."

He didn’t answer. But he didn’t need to.

Within minutes, you felt the change. The way his breathing evened out, slow and steady, his body growing heavier against yours as sleep finally, finally claimed him.

You stayed awake a little longer, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the fragile peace that had settled around the two of you like a blanket.

Your hand drifted in slow, lazy circles across his back, tracing invisible patterns, grounding him even as he slept.

And as you lay there in the dark, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, you found yourself silently, fiercely grateful, that tonight, you could give him this.

Peace.

Safety.

Home.

All the things he deserved, wrapped up in your arms.

May 28th, 2023. Fort Wayne, IN

The morning was quiet on the bus, the kind of sleepy peace that came after too many late nights stacked together.

You stood at the little counter in the cramped kitchen, carefully measuring out ingredients for pancakes, trying not to jostle the bag of flour too hard and send it puffing everywhere. A bowl of chocolate chips sat within reach, waiting to be folded in.

You barely noticed when Matt stepped in until you felt him hovering.

He leaned casually against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching you a little too intently.

"Hey," he said finally, voice easy but edged with something more serious.

You glanced up, giving him a questioning look without pausing in your measuring.

Matt scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight. "I’ve noticed you two," he said, tone gentle, almost teasing. "Getting pretty close."

You froze mid-pour, batter dripping slowly from the measuring cup.

"I’m just helping him," you said quietly, setting the cup down and wiping your hands on a dish towel. There was no defensiveness in your voice. Just honesty.

Matt exhaled through his nose, a small, knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t accusing. He understood.

"Good," he said after a beat. "Because he needs you right now. But..." He pushed off the doorway, stepping closer. His expression softened, voice dipping lower, more protective. "Don’t let him lean on you so hard that you break too."

You turned fully to face him then, meeting his steady gaze without flinching. The sincerity there — the quiet worry for both you and Noah — settled heavy in your chest.

"I’ll let you know when I need a breather," you promised, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

Matt studied you for another moment, then nodded, satisfied.

"He trusts you more than anyone," he said. "Just... make sure he doesn’t forget how to trust himself too."

You bit your lip, emotions swelling under your ribs.

Wordlessly, you reached into the bowl of chocolate chips, scooping a spoonful, and held it out to him like a peace offering.

Matt chuckled, the tension breaking. He leaned forward and plucked a few off the spoon before popping them into his mouth.

"Deal," you said, voice lighter now.

Matt clapped your shoulder. A solid, grateful kind of touch. One that said more than words ever could.

"Thanks for being his anchor," he said, squeezing once before letting go.

You watched him walk away, disappearing back down the narrow hallway toward the bunks.

As you turned back to the batter, stirring it gently, a quiet realization settled into your bones:

The band didn’t just rely on Noah.

They were starting to rely on you, too.

And somehow, without even meaning to, you had become part of the thread stitching them all together.

You glanced toward the hallway where Noah was still sleeping, and smiled softly to yourself.

You wouldn't let any of them fall apart alone.

Not if you could help it.

May 30th, 2023. Des Moines, IA

The next evening, the green room was almost empty, filled only with the low hum of a distant air vent and the quiet rustle of supplies as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, reorganizing the first-aid kit.

Bandages, antiseptic wipes, gauze. You methodically checked every box, every roll, hands moving out of habit more than thought.

You didn’t hear Noah approach at first.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat. A small, uncertain sound.

He stood just inside the doorway, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair still damp from the post-soundcheck shower. There was a hesitancy in the way he hovered, like he wasn’t sure if he should interrupt.

Without a word, you shifted to the side, making room on the floor.

Noah crossed the room and sat down across from you, mirroring your position, his legs folding awkwardly under him. His gaze found yours almost immediately.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You went back to stacking supplies, giving him space to find the words he was clearly working up to.

Finally, Noah broke the silence, his voice small but steady:

"I don’t think I ever properly thanked you," he said.

You set down the box of gauze you were holding, giving him your full attention.

"You don’t have to," you said quietly, meaning every word.

But Noah shook his head, almost fiercely, leaning forward across the scattered first-aid supplies. His hand reached out, tentative at first, then firmer as he took yours, cradling it between both of his.

The touch startled something warm and aching in your chest.

"No," he said again, voice thick with emotion. "I do."

He squeezed your hand lightly, grounding himself. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your knuckles, like he needed the connection just as much as the words.

"You saved my life," he said, the confession tumbling out in a breath. His eyes, wide and dark, searched yours with a rawness that made it hard to breathe. "On stage. Off stage. In flights. In hotels. Everywhere. You never left."

Your heart clenched painfully. You swallowed hard, forcing back the lump rising in your throat.

You tightened your hand around his, steady and sure.

"We’re a team," you whispered, voice catching slightly. "You would’ve done the same for me."

Noah didn’t look away. His fingers laced tighter with yours, like he could somehow say the rest of the things he didn’t know how to voice through touch alone.

"Thank you," he said again, softer this time, like a prayer. "For everything."

The air between you buzzed. Not heavy, not uncomfortable but thick with all the things words would never fully capture.

You gave his hand one more reassuring squeeze and offered a tiny, trembling smile.

"You don’t have to thank me," you repeated, just as quietly. "Just stay. That’s all."

And Noah nodded, a promise written all over his face.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Neither were you.

June 1st, 2023. Omaha, NE

The bus rocked gently beneath your feet as you padded down the narrow hallway, the soft hum of the engine and faint chatter from outside lulling the world into a late-night haze.

As you passed the little kitchen nook, you spotted Noah standing there, half-shadowed in the dim lighting.

The overhead bulb cast a soft, almost golden glow across his features highlighting the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of everything he'd been carrying.

He lifted his head when he saw you, something tender and vulnerable flickering in his gaze.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, voice low, almost hesitant.

You immediately shifted your path toward him, offering a small smile.

"Of course," you said. "What's up?"

Noah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, fingers curling around your hand. His grip was warm, steady, but you could feel the tremor underneath like he was holding onto something delicate and precious.

Without letting go, he tugged you gently toward the front of the bus, pulling you into the living room where the couches and worn coffee table sat in cozy disarray.

He didn't let go of your hand even as he sat down heavily on the couch, looking up at you with an expression so open, so raw, it made your heart ache.

You sat down beside him, turning to face him fully, your knees brushing his.

Noah took a deep breath, visibly gathering himself. His thumb rubbed a nervous pattern across the back of your hand.

"I’ve been wanting to say this the whole day," he began, words tumbling out in a rush. "But... I couldn’t find the right words. I kept overthinking it and—" He broke off, shaking his head.

You squeezed his hand gently, silently telling him to just breathe. Just talk.

He inhaled shakily.

"You..." he said, voice cracking slightly, "you saved my life. Not just the night in Raleigh, or Grand Rapids, or anywhere in between. You saved me every day. Every time you smiled at me. Every time you sat with me when the world felt too heavy to move. Every time you told me it was okay to not be okay."

Your chest tightened, emotion building under your ribs so hard it hurt.

"You made me want to stay," Noah whispered. His fingers tightened around yours, like he was afraid if he let go, he'd lose his nerve. "You made me smile again. You reminded me that... even when I felt broken, I wasn’t unlovable. That I was still worth something."

He looked up at you then, and the sheer vulnerability in his eyes stole the breath straight from your lungs.

"You made me feel like I could be more than my sadness," he said, voice trembling. "You made me feel like home wasn’t some place I’d lost. It was right here, in you."

Your breath caught audibly in your throat.

"Noah," you whispered, barely able to get his name past the tightness in your chest.

He shifted closer, so close now you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hands. Both of them came up to cradle yours, thumbs brushing soothing, reverent circles across your skin.

His eyes never left yours as he said, in a voice so full of certainty it made you want to cry:

"I love you. In every stitch. In every scar. In every broken, battered piece of me... you’re my home."

Tears pricked sharply at your eyes, blurring your vision. You let out a shaky, broken laugh, overwhelmed, heart splitting wide open in the best way possible.

"I love you too," you choked out, no hesitation, no fear. Just truth.

For a heartbeat, you both just stared at each other, emotions laid bare between you like a map of every scar and every healing wound.

Then Noah moved. Slow, careful, giving you every chance to pull away. And when you didn’t, when you leaned in just as eagerly, he closed the distance.

His lips met yours softly at first, like a secret being shared for the first time.

You sighed against him, melting into the kiss, arms sliding up around his neck as he pulled you closer, closer, like he couldn’t stand a single inch of space between you.

The kiss deepened gradually, growing surer, more desperate, like all the things you hadn’t said, all the moments you hadn’t touched, were finally pouring out.

The world outside faded into nothing. The engine’s hum, the distant noise from the venue, even the flicker of the bus lights.

There was only Noah.

Only you.

And the quiet, beautiful truth that had been waiting between you all along.

June 2nd, 2023. Kansas City, MO

The next morning, the bus was already stirring with soft laughter and the smell of brewing coffee when you and Noah finally emerged from the hallway.

His hand was wrapped tightly around yours, fingers intertwined like he wasn’t ready to let you go.

You made your way toward the little dining booth at the front of the bus where the rest of the guys were already gathered, sleepy-eyed but lively.

As soon as they spotted you, Jolly let out a low, teasing whistle.

"Well, look at you two lovebirds," he drawled, smirking over the rim of his coffee mug.

Nicholas, still nursing his first cup of caffeine, lifted it in a lazy toast, his eyes twinkling.

"Congrats," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Matt, who had been sprawled out across the bench, immediately straightened up, grinning so wide it nearly split his face. He slid into the booth opposite you two, leaning his elbows on the table with exaggerated excitement.

"About time," he said, shaking his head like he’d been waiting years for this moment.

You ducked your head, cheeks warming, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Noah squeezed your hand beneath the table, grounding you with that quiet, steady touch you were already so hopelessly attached to.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the guys, voice thick but certain.

"She saved me," he said, giving your hand another gentle squeeze, "and so did you guys. Thank you... all of you. So much."

There was a beat. A soft moment where everything stilled, like the gravity of his words deserved space to settle.

Then, as if they’d rehearsed it, all four of them said at once, voices overlapping with easy, unfiltered affection:

"Of course."

Folio, who was leaning back in his seat with his arms stretched over the back of the booth, tipped his head toward you both with a smirk.

"Just so you know," he said, his voice teasing but fond, "I called that from the second she stitched him up back in Colorado."

You laughed, unable to hold it back, the memory flashing through your mind. Noah wincing, you hovering over him with shaking hands, neither of you realizing that something bigger had already started that night.

You leaned into Noah’s shoulder, hiding your grin against the soft fabric of his hoodie. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a small, secret kiss to the top of your hair.

The guys erupted into cheers, clinking glasses, mugs, and even a random water bottle together in a loud, messy, absolutely perfect celebration.

The teasing was relentless. Jolly pretending to wipe a tear, Nicholas fake-offended that no one placed bets, Matt loudly announcing he better be the best man if there’s a wedding someday. But it was warm, easy, and wrapped in all the chaotic love that had built itself between you all without even trying.

As you sat there, tucked into Noah’s side, his hand still clutching yours like it was the only thing keeping him steady, you realized something beautiful. This wasn’t just a relationship.

It was a family.

And you had never been more at home.

June 3rd, 2023. Memphis, TN

The air backstage buzzed with the low hum of crew chatter, the faint rumble of the crowd bleeding through the walls like a living heartbeat.

You weaved through the maze of cables and cases, scanning for him and there, by the monitor world, you spotted Noah.

He was adjusting his in-ears, fingers fumbling slightly, his shoulders wound tight with nerves.

You moved toward him quietly, not wanting to startle him. When you reached him, he looked up, the tension plain in his face.

"I’m nervous," he admitted, voice low, almost sheepish, as if confessing a secret he wasn’t proud of.

You stepped closer, into his space, feeling the familiar magnetic pull between you. Gently, you reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair back from his forehead, fingertips lingering a second longer than necessary.

"You’ve come so far," you reminded him softly, your voice steady, sure, "Remember that night? The one when I found you crying in the corner after the show? You were convinced you couldn't do this anymore."

He let out a breath that trembled at the edges, his gaze dropping for a moment, like the memory still hurt to touch.

You hooked your finger under his chin, guiding him to look at you.

"Look at you now," you said, smiling gently.

His eyes, dark and uncertain, searched yours.

"I never thought I’d make it," he whispered, almost like he didn’t believe it even now.

Your heart squeezed. Without thinking, you cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the faint stubble there, grounding him.

"You did," you said fiercely, "Not just because you had to. Because you chose to. You’ve been stronger than you ever knew, Noah."

He leaned into your hand like it was the only thing holding him up, eyes shimmering with the kind of gratitude that words could never fully carry.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, "for believing when I couldn’t. For staying."

You smiled through the emotion thickening your throat. Leaning up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to his lips. A soft, lingering kiss that was part promise, part prayer, part I’m with you, always.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead lightly against his.

"I am so, so proud of you," you whispered. "Now go out there. Show them the real you. Show them the heart they fell in love with. The same one I did."

Noah exhaled, a deep, steadying breath. You watched as the tension slowly uncoiled from his frame. He nodded, a small but sure smile curving his lips.

"Okay," he said, squeezing your waist gently, grounding himself in your touch one last time before he had to let go.

He squared his shoulders, standing taller, a light coming back into his eyes.

And without another word, he turned and strode toward the stage, the roar of the crowd growing louder, swallowing him whole.

You stayed back, hand pressed to your chest, heart full, watching the man you loved step into his light. A light he had built from the ashes, with your hand in his.

June 4th, 2023. Wichita, KS

It was the last night before you would fly back home to LA.

The final show had ended in a haze of cheers and lights and raw magic. Better than either of you could have dreamed. It felt untouchable, almost surreal.

Hours later, in the dim, quiet hotel room, the adrenaline was still humming beneath your skin, refusing to settle.

Noah closed the door softly behind him, locking the world out. His eyes found yours in the low light, and that unspoken tension. The one that had been simmering between you all day finally snapped.

He crossed the room in two strides, hands cradling your face as he kissed you hard, like he was starving, like he couldn't get close enough.

You barely made it to the bed before he was guiding you down, hovering over you, his weight a comforting pressure you needed more than air.

You kissed for what felt like hours, slow and deep, the kind of kisses that made you forget what day it was, what your own name was.

You tugged gently on the hem of his shirt, breaking the kiss just enough to whisper, "Take it off."

He hesitated, breathing heavy, forehead pressed to yours.

"Are you sure?" he rasped, voice thick with tension, hope, and a trembling restraint that made your chest ache.

You nodded, thumb brushing the sharp edge of his jaw.

"More than sure," you breathed. "Please, Noah."

He kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent, before peeling off his shirt and tossing it somewhere into the dark.

Every touch after that felt sacred. His fingers trailed along your collarbone like he was memorizing you, while your hands mapped the planes of his back, the dip of his spine.

You let out a low moan when his fingers found your chest through your shirt, pinching your nipple gently.

You arched into him, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head in one fluid motion.

Noah sucked in a breath, eyes devouring you.

He carefully unclasped your bra, letting it fall away, leaving you bare under his gaze.

"You're so damn beautiful," he whispered like a prayer, tracing his thumb over your exposed skin. "How do I even deserve you?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Not with the way his words cracked something open inside you. Instead, you tugged him down into another searing kiss, hands threading through his hair.

You kissed your way down his throat, his chest, his stomach, taking your time, feeling every shiver he gave you.

When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you glanced up at him, asking for permission without speaking.

He gave the softest nod.

You undid his belt slowly, teasing him, hearing the hitch in his breathing. Then you tugged his jeans and boxers down in one swift, confident motion.

You pressed slow kisses to his thighs, feeling him tremble under your touch.

When you finally took him into your mouth, his reaction was instant. A deep, guttural groan that made heat flare between your legs.

You licked the tip first, swirling your tongue, before taking him deeper, bopping your head in a steady rhythm.

After a few blissful moments, his hand found your hair, guiding you gently but urgently, hips stuttering.

"Shit, I’m so close," he gasped, voice wrecked.

You let him slip from your mouth with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting you still. His desperate whine nearly undid you.

"Why'd you stop?" Noah asked, breathless, wide-eyed.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips, smirking against his flushed skin.

"Because," you whispered against his ear, "I want you to cum inside me, baby."

Noah let out a groan so raw it made your whole body shiver.

"Are you trying to fucking kill me?" he growled, but his hands were already gripping your hips like he’d die if he let go.

You kissed him hard, stealing the rest of his sanity, before pulling back just enough to shimmy out of your skirt and panties.

Noah’s eyes darkened as he took you in, hands roaming like he couldn't decide where to touch first. He slid one hand down to where you were aching for him, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made you keen.

"Noah," you whimpered, rocking into his hand, "I need you. Inside me. Please."

He didn't make you beg twice.

Guiding you carefully, you sank down onto him, both of you letting out broken, desperate sounds as he filled you.

You moved slowly at first, adjusting to the sweet stretch of him, your forehead resting against his.

His hands gripped your waist, and then he was meeting your hips with his own, thrusting up into you hard enough to punch moans from both of you.

"Fuck, you feel like heaven," he groaned, lips ghosting over your throat.

You rode him like it was the only thing that mattered, skin against skin, messy and beautiful and real.

The room filled with the sounds of your bodies. The wet slap of skin, the choked off moans, the whispered praises, and quiet, breathless laughter when you bumped noses or fumbled, too drunk on each other to care.

You fell over the edge together, clinging to each other like a lifeline, gasping each other's names into the space between your mouths.

Afterward, you collapsed against him, hearts pounding wildly in sync.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, holding you like he’d never let go.

You pressed a kiss to the inked skin of his chest, right over his heart.

"I'm always gonna be here for you, Noah. No matter what," you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of how much you meant it.

He tightened his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours.

"And I��m always gonna love you," he murmured back, sealing the promise with a soft kiss.

You lay there like that for a long time, tangled up in each other, breathing the same air, sharing the same future.

After a while, Noah brushed your hair back and looked at you with something new in his eyes. Something scared and hopeful all at once.

"I know it’s still fresh," he said quietly, "and it’s extremely early... but... will you move in with us? With me?"

You blinked, tears stinging your eyes for a whole different reason this time.

Grinning wide enough that it hurt, you cupped his face between your hands.

"Of course I will, Noah," you said, voice shaking with happiness. "There’s no place else I’d rather be."

He kissed you again, smiling against your lips.

Later, you lay together, already talking about which room would be yours, how you’d make it a real home. Not just for Noah, but for you both.

The future didn't feel so scary anymore.

Taglist: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @courta13 @lacy1986 @bloody-spades @take--me--first

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mysticcollectionbee · 2 months ago

Text

random rambling about the Media Demons (Part 2)

So we're gonna talk about the guy currently rotating around my head 24/7 atm. This might be longer than the last one

Radio Demon: Alastor

I'm not joking when I say I have looked up alot of history topics just cause of this dumb deer. Maybe I don't even have to say it if you have been looking at my posts recently. If so, I'm sorry you have to suffer through my history lessons...ANYWAYS here's a history lesson on Radio in the 1920s and 1930s.

To start of with, this man either forced himself to learn everything he could about radios when he first came across one (they were and expensive as hell in the south during the 1910s) as a teen to know how to make a broadcast OR he was part of WW1 and was a radio operator (which wasn't usually a job available for POC in that era, but idk maybe they were short-staffed or Alastor lied on his papers).

You may be saying, "He probably didn't need to know that if he was just the show host", but to that I say: I don't think he was just the show host, I think he was the whole station.

In the show, we see him have a whole board of dials and switches in front of him in his tower and doesn't seem to have a single person working close to him that has any experience in Radio show business. While compared to Vox in the same episode we see him have people control the lighting and cameras. A unique comparison, and also how this connects to history:

POC couldn't legally work in a radio station, I know some people write that maybe he did have a job but was just treated poorly and not paid well. But, him getting the job in the first place would be a huge danger for the station since they would be legally committing a crime in that era just by writing his name on any papers or if he was caught just working in the building. Plus there's a much more fun less horribly racist way he could get his own radio show. ILLEGALLY!

Illegal radio stations were stations broadcasting without government permission and usually began their business by hijacking broadcasts from other radio stations until they had their own. Like the thing Alastor did to Vox's show in Stayed Gone? Exactly! Plus, when the government did eventually want to either shut down or give licenses to these stations Alastor could have gotten a license without ever showing his face.

It would also make sense how Alastor might've had Mimzy on his radio show that the Playbill mentioned (Assuming it meant his show when he was alive but it could have very much meant his show in Hell) and how he was popular. Yes, he would not publicly or legally reveal that he was part of his radio show BUT the 'circles' him and Mimzy hanged out with as well as local people would know who he was and would give him that popularity he apparently had when alive.

Alastor has been doing his show longer than Vox's career and definitely more confident in it. He was around in Mimzy's era (1920s) and died during the Great Depression (1930s). But if we go with my idea that he started this after WW1 than he's been doing the same career for even longer and with even less help. Vox probably was in the film industry before TV but I don't think Alastor was in show business until his radio show (unless you count maybe doing some music for jazz clubs, he canonically knows how to play A LOT of instruments). So Vox could depend on previous connections and employees while Alastor probably worked solo for the most part.

His hatred of showing his face on camera could have MANY reasons but I think one of them could be the fact that he couldn't really do that when he was alive unless he changed who he was (like making himself 'pass' more as a white person by changing his physical appearance or pass more as a 'man' by changing his mannerisms).

He most definitely only survived the Great Depression because of his job and I think that's one of the reasons he's so connected to it. During that era one of the few well-paying stable jobs WAS radio. Especially, since it was the one thing that kept people motivated, informed and connected with each other. It was literally described as the one thing that helped people survive the era. But it also was probably the only reason why someone like Alastor a mixed race person in the SOUTH (The South was hit horribly by not just the Great Depression also the Dust Bowl which led to an increase of population from people leaving the plains and moving down there where the economy could barely support) was able to afford food and everything else to live. If he had a different job he might've died sooner or atleast suffered more.

On a lighter note: He's a hypocrite! Alastor might know modern slang ("that's the tea") and probably even modern music because his job WAS tied to keeping up with the culture. While TV was more for glamour and what people fantasized life to be, local radio shows focused on keeping up with current culture. So this nerd might still be keeping up with current culture while just also keeping his personal love of the past. He's an old man hipster!

Speaking of, I think that's why he gave Vox a chance in the beginning. Because in his era TVs were a brand new and amazing invention that he never saw flourished and he probably thought Vox as a person was something similar.

I might make a third part (Don't worry it WILL be short) just saying how these two losers were doomed to become enemies/rivals if they were are the embodiment of their respective medias. Not right now though, kinda tired of writing lol

#alastor #hazbin hotel #meta #history trivia #vox

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ducktoo · 8 months ago

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

1. New life…as what now?

Note: primary vs secondary acc issue, repost it now to the right place. Enjoy!

Masterlist here

It had been years since Y/n left the relentless grind of trainee life behind him. It was a chapter he thought they'd never revisit—especially not from the outside looking in.

His new life had a quieter rhythm.

No more sprinting to dance practices or losing sleep memorising lyrics. Instead, Y/n had been picking up odd jobs in the entertainment industry—small gigs, freelance work, and most recently, running errands for people still in the idol bubble. Heck, he even finished his mandatory services the moment he left his early days.

Y/n stretched, basking in a rare moment of peace as he sat in a quiet café. The iced Americano sweating in front of him was untouched, but that wasn’t a surprise.

He weren’t really there to drink coffee. More like he was trying to figure out what came next. The timeframe of unemployment is real…

Sure, there were opportunities, but nothing that screamed "this is it!"

Just as his thoughts began to drift into existential territory, their phone buzzed on the table.

"SM CEO."

Y/n’s brow furrowed. SM? What could they possibly want? He hadn't stepped foot in that building since—

No time to dwell. He swiped to answer.

"Hello, sir?"

A crisp, professional voice on the other end greeted them, and Y/n immediately recognized it—the CEO he occasionally met during their trainee days. "Y/n, it’s been a while."

Y/n nodded, as if the person on the phone could see them. "Good morning sir. What’s up?"

"Ah, nothing too stressful. I just want to ask how would you feel about rejoining the team—"

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. "Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, half-joking, half-anxious. "With all due respect, you’re not trying to re-sign me as a trainee, are you? I don’t think my back can handle another round of choreography."

The voice chuckled lightly. "No, no. Not as a trainee. We actually have a bit of a different proposition for you. It’s related to aespa."

"aespa?" That name hit Y/n like a sudden gust of wind.

aespa. The super rookies who had been making waves all over the industry and one of the biggest girl groups leading the 4th generation of K-pop.

And Winter… his mind went there instinctively.

While they still regularly talked to each other, he remembered he was adamant about leaving his past trainee life behind and pursue blue collar jobs. Winter was someone Y/n had trained alongside before she debuted.

Y/n felt a pang of nostalgia—mixed with a little guilt. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to his childhood friend. "what about them?"

“Wait, hold up… what?”

The words felt stuck in Y/n’s throat, awkwardly lodged between disbelief and mild panic. The fluorescent lights above the SM CEO’s office flickered softly, adding to the sense of surrealistic reality. Y/n’s palms felt clammy as the director continued with that calm, almost amused smile, the kind that said, "Welcome to the deep end of the pool—good luck swimming."

“You’re going to manage aespa,” the director said again, this time like he was offering Y/n a cup of coffee, not rearranging his entire life.

Y/n blinked, their mind working overtime to piece together what was just said. “Manage… as in�� manage manage?” He tried to keep their voice steady, but the end of the sentence squeaked out a little too much. It didn’t help that the director just nodded, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes. You're aware we're short-staffed, and your background as a trainee means you're already familiar with how the company operates. Their current manager had to step down suddenly due to health reasons, and we need someone to step in on short notice. Someone familiar with the company’s ways and preferably, someone who’s worked with Winter before. That’s where you come in."

Y/n’s heart did a weird flip. Of all the things he had expected—maybe helping out behind the scenes, doing some coordination work—this was not it. Y/n was barely done figuring out their own path, and now he had to figure out the path for one of K-pop’s biggest girl groups?

The panic was rising, but Y/n swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. “B-but, I was just a trainee before this.. I've never took any management courses before?”

The director leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. “Yet, that experience as a trainee means you know about the idols' health and wellbeing more than everyone else. Everything else you can definitely learn on the job.”

"B-but-"

"And we think it will be better as well considering you and Minjeong auditioned together and got in together."

Ah right, Winter and Y/n were childhood friends. Sure, managing her wouldn't be too hard considering god knows how long they hung out together, but the rest of the members? Just the thought of it made Y/n gulped.

"Don't worry, the other managers will teach you your role. Red Velvet's manager will brief you after our talk." The director stood up, signalling the end of the conversation. “Your first day starts tomorrow. Get some rest tonight.”

Leaving Y/n alone in the room, he thought "…Minjeong will have a fcking field day with this…”

Y/n hadn’t slept a wink. The alarm clock was practically taunting them as it beeped at 6 a.m., the early start not unusual in idol life.

If the old Y/n—back when he was a trainee—had thought the pace of idol life was fast, stepping into a manager’s shoes was like jumping onto a bullet train already at full speed. There was no time to get acclimated, no luxury of easing into the role. Y/n showed up to the SM building the very next morning, and the minute he stepped through those familiar glass doors, the whirlwind began.

"Y/n, good to see you again!" One of the staff greeted them, barely pausing for pleasantries as she handed them a clipboard. "Here’s aespa’s schedule for the next two days. Red Velvet's manager will teach you today, but from tomorrow onwards, it’s all on you."

Y/n blinked, scanning the clipboard. Music show rehearsal. Commercial shoot. Dance practice. Fan sign event. And that was just before lunch on day one. "Wow… this is… intense," he muttered under their breath.

The staff member laughed. "Welcome to the life of an idol manager. You’ll get used to it."

He wasn’t ready for this. Hell no.

Yet, somehow, at 8:45 a.m., Y/n found himself standing outside aespa’s practice room, a bundle of nerves in the pit of their stomach. Through the glass window, Y/n could see the four girls, laughing about something, stretching, and getting ready to practice, while Red Velvet's manager briefing them their schedules and began to introduce their new manager.

This was going to be weird. Y/n hadn’t been around the group since the trainee days, and even then, he had been on the outside looking in. Minjeong… oh god, Minjeong. He really didn't tell her anything about this new role, just hinting that he got a job.

"Deep breath," Y/n muttered to themselves. It was just a job. Just another day.

As he opened the door, the laughter in the room died down almost instantly. Four sets of eyes turned to Y/n, and the tension hung in the air like fog. Karina stood in the centre, arms folded, eyebrows raised slightly as if sizing up an opponent.

"So," she said, voice cool and composed, "you’re our new manager?"

Y/n nodded stiffly, offering a small wave that felt ridiculously out of place. "Uh, yeah. That’s me. Jung Y/n. Lovely to meet you all.”

Winter, who had been doing some light stretches, straightened up when she recognized Y/n. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a small laugh. "Wait, Y/n?!"

Y/n tried to relax, giving Winter a sheepish smile and a peace sign. "Y-yo"

Winter’s easy laughter filled the room, lightening the mood, if only slightly. "Ya, idiot! Is this why you didn't say anything about your new job?."

"Yeah, well, I guess." Y/n shrugged. "How are you doing tho?"

"More happy now that I know that you're working with us!" Winter beamed. "This is really too funny kekekeke"

While Winter was dying in the background at the revelation, Karina’s sharp gaze hadn’t shifted. She looked Y/n up and down, her scepticism almost tangible. "No offense, but… how much experience do you have managing?"

Y/n inwardly winced but kept their face neutral. "Well, this is my first time officially managing, but I’ve trained with the company for years. I know how things work on both sides, so…"

Karina didn’t seem convinced. She didn’t say anything, but the silence spoke volumes. Ningning and Giselle exchanged glances, sensing the subtle tension in the room.

Giselle, always the bigger person, stepped in, trying to ease the awkwardness. "It’ll be fine, unnie. Y/n’s got this. I mean, he survived SM’s training system, right?"

Karina shrugged, finally breaking eye contact. "We’ll see."

Y/n’s phone buzzed for what felt like the thousandth time, and He resisted the urge to hurl it into the nearest trash can. "This cursed fing- I mean, object"

This is fine.

Everything is fine. Sure, his first official day as aespa’s manager had turned into a whirlwind of chaos, but Y/n had told himself he’d survive the day. It was all about staying calm.

Except, calm was nowhere to be found, and the more he tried to navigate their new responsibilities, the more everything spiralled out of control.

The morning had started deceptively smooth. He arrived at SM early, clipboard in hand, ready to tackle the day. A smile even broke out when he saw the group filing into the van, chirpy with coffee and morning energy. But, as soon as Y/n opened the daily schedule on their phone, his stomach sank.

Wrong rehearsal room.

The worst way to f*ck it up as well. Misread the number 7 for 1.

"Uh... okay, small problem," Y/n muttered to themselves before looking at the girls. "So, it turns out I booked the wrong practice room this morning."

Giselle, who was squished between Ningning and Winter in the van, looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, you’re telling me we’re going to a room that doesn’t exist?"

Y/n winced. "No, it exists. It's just... not available.”

Ningning leaned forward with a smirk. "So what, we practice in the parking lot? That could be fun. Maybe film a TikTok."

"That's actually a fire idea" Y/n thought.

"Please don't give her ideas," Karina groaned from the front seat. She glanced at Y/n through the rearview mirror. "So... what’s the backup plan, manager-nim?"

Y/n felt the weight of the title more than ever in that moment. Being called "manager" was still weird, like wearing a jacket that didn’t quite fit. "Uh, we’ll use one of the smaller rooms for now, just for today. I’ll sort it out. Sorry about that, team."

"Just for today?" Giselle echoed with a teasing grin. "Good to know we’ve got a professional in charge."

Y/n sighed. This was going to be a long day.

By the time they arrived at the practice room, the energy had shifted. The smaller rehearsal space had a cozy feel, but "cozy" was just a nice way of saying cramped. The mirrors barely covered one wall, and the air-conditioning was struggling to keep up with the summer heat.

The girls, to their credit, didn’t complain much—well, except for Giselle, who Y/n could always count on for a sarcastic comment or two…and Karina who didn't need any words but Y/n knew he would be skinned alive after bed.

"Well, I guess we’re all gonna sweat out our souls in here," Giselle said as she dropped her bag onto the floor and stretched her arms above her head. "Thanks, Y/n. Really starting the day off right."

Winter shot Y/n a glance, her mouth twitching into a faint smile. "It’s fine, don’t worry. We’ve practiced in worse places."

Y/n appreciated the attempt at reassurance, but the guilt still gnawed at them. He was supposed to make things easier for aespa, not complicate their day with rookie mistakes. Even worse with him thinking his trainee days would help.

So much for better understanding of the girls.

As the group started their warm-ups, Y/n made a mental note to double-check all bookings going forward. He couldn’t afford to mess up again—not with Karina giving them those mildly skeptical looks every few minutes. It was like she was silently judging every move Y/n made.

"Great. Just what I need—her thinking I’m completely useless." Y/n sighed.

Things hit a new low when Y/n tried to connect their phone to the rehearsal room's speakers, but the Wi-Fi password wasn’t working. Panic started creeping up their spine as they stared at the screen.

Y/n wanted to hit his head into a wall right this instant.”

"Hey, Y/n, we’re ready for the playlist," Karina called out from across the room. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, uh... Just a sec." Y/n tapped the password again, slower this time, but it still didn’t connect. "What the—"

Giselle leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the show. "Let me guess—you forgot the password? Or did you set it to ‘password123’ like a true professional?"

Y/n shot her a look, trying to hide the growing anxiety. "It’s the building Wi-Fi. I swear it’s not my fault."

"Sure, sure." Giselle’s grin widened. "No problem. We’ll just dance in silence. You know, like marionettes."

Winter chuckled softly, while Ningning chimed in. "Oooh, I love silent discos! We could start a trend."

While Y/n cracked a smile at Ningning's genius revelation once again, Karina sighed, crossing her arms. "Just use the Bluetooth on the portable speaker for now. We don’t have time to waste."

"Un-unnie" Winter whimpered, sensing that her leader began to get frustrated. "We don't need to rush, Y/n's just getting used to it."

"Jeong, it's ok." Y/n reassured. "Karina, good idea. I got the speaker just in case."

Y/n scrambled to connect his phone via Bluetooth, heart racing as the group exchanged amused glances. As much as he tried to take the ribbing in stride, Y/n couldn’t help but feel like every little mistake was another nail in their managerial coffin.

First the wrong room, now this…

Finally, the music blasted from the portable speaker, and Y/n sighed in relief. The girls began running through their choreography, their focus quickly shifting back to the dance routine. As the familiar beats filled the small room, Y/n retreated to the side, trying to steady their nerves with a big gulped.

By midday, Y/n was juggling three things at once: updating the afternoon’s schedule, figuring out lunch arrangements, and fielding a call from the media team about an upcoming interview. He was so deep in thought, he didn’t even notice Ningning creeping up behind them.

"Boo."

Y/n flinched, nearly dropping their phone. "Motherf- Yizhuo!"

She laughed, hands on her hips. "Relax, Y/n-oppa. You’re doing fine. We’re all still alive, and no one’s collapsed yet. I’d say that’s a win."

Y/n exhaled, rubbing their temples. "Yeah, barely."

"Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. This job isn’t easy. Plus, we’ve all made mistakes. I mean, did you know I once went to a music show wearing mismatched shoes? Like, two completely different shoes."

Y/n blinked. "Huh, seriously?"

"Yep," Ningning grinned. "And no one noticed until halfway through the performance."

"Is there a fancam of it at least?"

"Oh, there are plenty of that for you."

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing just a little. "Okay, maybe that makes me feel slightly better."

"Good." She clapped Y/n on the back. "You’ll get the hang of it, oppa. Just remember—you’re not the only one winging it half the time. We are too."

Before Y/n could respond, Karina’s voice interrupted them from across the room. "Y/n! Can we confirm the interview time for this afternoon?"

Y/n checked the schedule on their phone, tapping quickly before calling back, "Yeah, it’s at 2:00. I’ll make sure we’re on time."

Karina nodded, her expression unreadable as she went back to the group, but Y/n caught the faintest flicker of something that might’ve been approval.

"Okay, maybe I haven’t totally screwed up yet." Y/n did a small dance in celebration.

As the morning stretched into afternoon, Y/n found himself slowly settling into the role. Sure, it was still overwhelming, and they felt like they were constantly playing catch-up, but Giselle’s light-hearted teasing and Winter’s quiet-not-so-quiet encouragement kept them going. Even Ningning, who couldn’t resist poking fun at Y/n’s blunders, made the chaos a little more bearable.

By the time the group wrapped up their rehearsals and headed to their interview, Y/n felt a small surge of relief. They had made it through the first half of the day without any major disasters. Maybe this whole manager thing wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

As they entered the interview room, Y/n stood near the back, watching as the girls took their places on the set. Cameras clicked, lights flashed, and the media team buzzed around them. Y/n checked their phone one more time, going over the rest of the day’s schedule. Double checking always works.

Karina, standing just off camera, glanced over at Y/n with a small, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, and the hallway lights cast a soft glow over the exhausted aespa members as they stumbled into the dormitory. Their faces were flushed from the intensity of the day’s rehearsals, but there was a shared sense of relief in finally being off their feet. The practice room doors creaked open, revealing the calm haven of their living quarters.

Karina immediately went into her room to get changed.

Giselle frantically searched for a protein bar in their pantry.

Ningning plopped on the couch and groaned about the schedule.

And Winter noticed Y/n immediately headed to the kitchen. Already had a smile, she knew tonight will be a feast.

During his trainee days, the kitchen had become a sort of sanctuary for Y/n, a place where the clamour of the day’s chaos could be momentarily forgotten. Tonight, the giant pans of cheesy instant ramen unveiling the moment the lid opened was a beacon of comfort. The rich aroma of sauce and steaming noodles wafted through the air, promising a moment of respite.

Of course, it got the members' attention, and their tired eyes lit up at the sight of the pans of ramen. It was a welcoming sight, and their stomachs growled in unison.

Y/n’s presence in the kitchen, with his sleeves rolled up and a focused look on their face, was a stark contrast to the frenetic energy they had witnessed throughout the day.

“Y/n, you rock,” Giselle said, her voice filled with gratitude as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t think I’d make it through the day without something like this.”

Ningning, always enthusiastic about food, followed suit and perched herself on a nearby stool. “Seriously, we owe you one. Our kitchen doesn’t usually get this kind of late-night love.”

Winter, the resident annoyance to her childhood friend, leaned against the counter and eyed Y/n with a playful smirk. “So, did you have this bougee ramen this much when you were a trainee too when I wasn't around? Or did you just eat instant noodles and subconsciously dream about becoming our manager?”

Y/n chuckled, stirring the noodles with practiced ease. “Oh, shush you. Buldak was basically my best friend during those days. It was either ramen or cereal for dinner.”

Karina, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. “Cereal for dinner? That’s a new one. What was your go-to flavor?”

“Plain old,” Y/n admitted with a grin. “It was the closest thing I could get to comfort food. Plus, it’s surprisingly filling when you’re too tired to care about anything else.”

Winter burst into laughter, nudging Y/n playfully. “I can just picture you in your trainee days, sitting in a tiny room, eating cereal straight from the box, dreaming about making it big. Did you ever think you’d end up here with us?”

"Hell no." Y/n’s expression softened, a nostalgic glint in their eyes. “Honestly, I had my doubts. It was a tough time, but moments like these make it all worth it. I’m just glad to be here with all of you.”

As the ramen finished cooking, Y/n ladled the pan into plates and handed them out. The group gathered around the table, their laughter and chatter filling the room. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about the camaraderie, the shared experiences, and the understanding that they were all in this together.

Giselle took a generous slurped and sighed contentedly. “This is exactly what we needed. I didn’t realize how much I missed simple yet fancy comforts like this.”

Ningning, already twirling noodles around her chopsticks, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, the practice room is great and all, but there’s something about a late-night cheesy ramen session that just makes everything feel right.”

Y/n took a quick slurp as well, and he banged the table in excitement. "That's how you live the life, man!"

Winter’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Anyway Y/n, give us some bed time story and let us hear your side of our trainee stories.”

"You don't tell them? Unless the early days wasn't unveil yet."

"Yep, and they can hear it directly from you."

Y/n laughed softly, shaking their head. “Oh, where to begin? Let’s just say my trainee days were filled with a lot of ramen, cereal, and endless hours of practice with this doof" He pointed at Winter. "There were days when I’d practice with Minjeong for so long that I’d fall asleep in the studio…. While my childhood friend here just left me and went home.”

While Ningning laughed at the last remark, Karina’s eyes widened in surprise, but regained her distance. “You’d fall asleep in the studio? That sounds rough.”

Y/n nodded, smiling at the memory. “Yeah, I’d be so exhausted that I’d just crash wherever I could. Sometimes, I’d wake up to find the other trainees laughing at me because I’d fallen asleep on the floor in some awkward position.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about those days "Also, I cooked for Jeong here like all the time. We’d spend hours in the practice room, and when the sessions were over, we’d retreat to the dorm’s kitchen. I was always the one cooking because this girl saw the recipe online and wanted me to make it.”

Winter chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ya, you're my eternal lab rat, Y/n. Remember that time you tried to cook a proper meal for us, and I ended up almost burning the place down?”

Y/n laughed, shaking their head. “Jeezus, don't even get me started. You were determined to help, but your idea of ‘helping’ involved a lot of questionable seasoning. It was a proper experiment gone wrong. I vomited all of that after I lost the rock-paper-scissors, and Minjeong laughed like a maniac."

Karina leaned in, clearly intrigued. It was the first time Karina took interested in the new manager today. “Wait, so Y/n was cooking for Winter all the time? What did you cook for her?"

Giselle nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Damn, girl, you got a private chef all this time?" She poked Minjeong's cheek, who was totally flustered at her statement.

Y/n smiled, lost in the memories. “Jeong and I had this routine. After a long day of training, we’d both be starving and exhausted. I’d take over the kitchen because I never trust her for….well, ever. She’d stand by, throwing whatever she found online while I tried to save whatever we had.”

Winter laughed, nodding in agreement. “Y/n was actually really good at cooking. He’d whip up something edible and often surprisingly delicious. I mostly just munch and tried not to set off the smoke alarm.”

Giselle’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That sounds like something I’d do. Ya, remember when Ningning tried to make ramen on her own and ended up setting off the fire alarm?”

Ningning’s cheeks turned a shade of red, but she laughed along with the rest. “Hey, in my defence, I was trying to add some ‘extra’ ingredients. Let’s just say I got a little carried away with the chili flakes.”

Winter’s eyes widened in mock horror, slapping Y/n's back aggressively as she remembered something. “Oh, and Jimin-unnie's cooking experiment that ended up with the entire dorm smelling like burnt popcorn for days.”

Karina rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I was trying to make popcorn, okay? It was my first attempt at cooking.”

The group burst into laughter, their earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Y/n joined in, their laughter blending with the sounds of the group’s mirth. The kitchen, usually a place for quick meals and late-night snacks, had become a space for shared stories and genuine connection.

As the conversation flowed, the stories grew more personal. Karina recounted her struggles with maintaining a rigorous training schedule while trying to stay connected with her family. Ningning shared her experiences of adapting to life in Korea and the culture shock she had felt when she first arrived. Giselle talked about the pressure of being one of the older trainees and the challenges of balancing expectations with her own ambitions.

Y/n listened intently, their heart swelling with appreciation for the group’s openness. The whole day was genuinely suffocating for Y/n and he glad his cooking opened up to them. It was a moment of vulnerability and camaraderie, a chance for everyone to connect on a deeper level.

Winter leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s crazy to think about how far we’ve all come. Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday we were all trainees, struggling to make it through each day.”

Ningning nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and determination. “Yeah, but look at us now. We’ve made it through the tough times and come out stronger.”

"Well, you four did for a while." Y/n pointed. "I just started."

"Aish, you know what I'm saying" Ningning brushed it off.

As the last of the ramen was devoured and the plates were set aside, the group settled into a comfortable silence. The kitchen, once filled with the noise of preparation and conversation, now hummed with a quiet sense of contentment. It was a moment of peace, a pause in the whirlwind of their busy lives—a small, perfect slice of normalcy in their extraordinary world.

Winter, sensing the serene atmosphere, broke the silence with a softer tone. “Thanks for doing this, Manager. It really means a lot to us.”

Y/n stared. "Ya, you're just gonna tease me and call me manager after that heartfelt dinner?"

"I'm being serious, this guy.." Winter glared. "We know that the sudden career change is rough for you. But all things considered….you aced it."

Y/n smiled at the thumbs up from everyone, even including the hard-to-approach Karina.

As the night wore on, the group slowly began to disperse to their shared room, their energy restored by the comforting presence of good food and good company. Y/n watched them go, their heart full with a sense of fulfillment. This was what it was all about—connecting, sharing, and growing together.

With the kitchen finally quiet, Y/n began to clean up, their movements slow and deliberate. The pot was washed, the plates stacked neatly, and the remnants of the meal cleared away. The kitchen, now returned to its usual state of order, seemed to hold the echoes of laughter and conversation, a testament to the bond that had been strengthened over a simple late-night snack.

As Y/n finished tidying up, he glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly 2 a.m. The day had been long, but it had ended on a high note. With a contented sigh, Y/n turned off the lights and began to head out to go home.

However, as he was heading towards the front door, a hand tugged his sleep. It was Winter.

"Hey, are you ok?" Her voice was full of concern. While she didn't say much, she knew today was tough for Y/n, especially under the eyes of her leader.

"Yea, I'm ok. What's wrong?"

"I know that Jimin-unnie has been…rough on you…but please don't hate her too much" She held on Y/n's hand, clearly whimpering and shaking from her hand. "She was just looking out for us. Things were especially tough these days even with our old manager."

"Aish, cmon I'm not that petty." Y/n wiped her tears. "Normal person would've been angry with me already considering how many times I fcked up. So Karina was already being the nicest possible she can be."

"B-but I don't want you to feel down and leave again…"

Y/n swore his heart skipped a beat after that confession. "Aish, I'll never leave you like before, Minjeong. Trust me on this."

"Really?" Winter hiccuped.

"Yes, crybaby." That made Y/n earned a kick to the shin from Winter, who cackled afterwards hearing her nickname.

#aespa #aespa x reader #aespa karina #aespa winter #aespa giselle #aespa ningning #kpop #karina #winter #giselle #ningning #kim minjeong #yoo jimin #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #x reader #aespa x you #aespa x male reader

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years ago

Text

Meeting Pastry Chef Luca from The Bear For the First Time Headcanon

a/n: inspired by @superhoeva, i thought i'd take a crack at writing a chef luca headcanon because we're all dying rn for will poulter as a sticker-sleeve tattooed chef. would anyone read this as a fic?? let me know.

edit: (7/3/23) i turned this into a fic called 'burn your life down.' feel free to read if you'd like!

you own a small restaurant in copenhagen. it's only been open for a year (this could potentially change if i write said fic). it's nothing fancy, but the food has soul. the food is an extension of yourself -- it tells the story of you.

inspired by noma, you grow some of your own produce outside of the restaurant in raised garden beds.

you begin to notice (as it's an open kitchen) and a smaller spot, that a tall, blonde brit has become one of your regulars. he comes in the same day each week at the same time. he always looks tired, like he's unwinding from a long day's worth of hard work, but he's always kind to your staff, and he has a quiet, powerful confidence to him.

week after week, he's there. he always orders one dish and one glass of wine, before paying the bill and leaving for the evening without a word.

your staff speculate about him: who is he, what must he do, that he's so handsome that he must have a partner. you don't pay much attention to the gossip, but it's hard not to notice that it's become part of his routine.

he always orders something different -- eager to try any new kind of special that you have on the menu that day.

it's not till one slower night of service that you finally meet him. you're short staffed that night and so you end up running plates out to tables -- finding it a great opportunity to connect more with your diners on a personal level. it's a very american hospitality concept, but since you have the time, you figure, why not?

he comes in at his usual time on sunday evening and you're curious to learn more about your weekly diner. you introduce yourself after walking his plate out and he's surprised that it's you who's serving him this evening.

"you're the chef?" he asks. "yes." "i can't think of the last time i saw a head chef work front of house..." he shakes his head in disbelief. "we're a little short staffed tonight." he seems impressed, raising his glass of wine to you. "cheers."

at the end of dinner service, one of your servers hands you a handwritten note that luca's left for you, inviting you to the restaurant he works at. the note reads: "thank you for all of the great meals. i'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it," followed by a time, a date for tomorrow, and an address.

as soon as you realize which restaurant it is (much fancier, michelin starred, held in high regard) you only panic a little, but decide to go anyways. since both of your restaurants are closed on monday, you're even more nervous about the fact that you're meeting him at his tonight, while it's closed, considering you've barely had a conversation with him and how intimidating of a reputation the restaurant has.

he greets you at the door, right on time, and he leads you past the closed dining room, back to the kitchen where he's created a few dishes for you to try: two from his regular menu and one inspired by a dish of yours he's had.

"all of this... you did all of this for me... why?" you muster up the courage to ask. "your food is inspired and i don't think i've had something this inspired in a long time. and as chefs, this is what we do. we feed each other." and it's the beginning of, you're not quite sure what, but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction

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sexy-monster-fucker · 8 months ago

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Hi sweet,

Would you ever write a vampire fic of Lee Russell?

I have not been able to stop thinking about this ever since I read this ask, it’s an absolute YES from me

Vampire!Lee Russell x Reader

Summary: Reader is one of the Vice Principals at North Jackson High. Lee Russell has recently been appointed Principal, and suspicious things keep happening. Teachers are going missing left and right. Now that they are lacking in staff, Reader and Gamby are forced to help chaperone the Halloween dance.

cw: blood (of course), choking, biting, car sex, oral f!receiving, p in v,

"That's the third one this month," Neal Gamby, your coworker and Vice Principal of North Jackson High, grumbled crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe they all just found better jobs," you shrugged your shoulders.

"No letter of resignation? No reports of anything? I just don't believe that, Y/N," he squinted his eyes. He always was the most suspicious one out of the three of you. Even more so now that your other coworker, Lee Russell, had been given the job as Principal. Gamby's jealousy manifested itself as paranoia.

"It's more of an inconvenience than anything. Especially with the Halloween Dance coming up. Lookin' like we're gonna end up chaperoning," you sighed.

"Can't believe all you care about is having to watch the kids at some stupid dance! What about our fucking teachers? They keep going missing! I need you to brainstorm with me on this, Y/N," Gamby stamped his foot on the ground, spitting through his teeth. You rolled your eyes, heading inside. Gamby followed closely behind you, rambling about how he had been listening to some paranormal podcast. You zoned him out as you walked down the hallway to your office. Lee Russell leaned out of his office catching both of you before you could retreat into your offices.

"Well, hello, Ms. Y/N. And Gamby. Can y'all come in here for a minute?" His chipper attitude was never a good thing.

You and Gamby sat in the two chairs facing him. Lee locked his door behind him, sitting in his chair. "Alrighty. A good ole Principals Meeting! I'm gonna level with y'all, we are short staffed. We have lost ten faculty members this semester alone. I'm not sure how much more North Jackson can take. We're all gonna have to step up our game," Lee leaned back in his chair.

Neal blew his breath out, jumping up from his chair. "What the fuck is going on, Russell? How is no one snooping around here trying to figure out what the hell is happening? It's not fucking normal for this many teachers to 'quit' or whatever lie we're telling everyone now! You have to be concerned!"

"Gamby, I know. I'm working on keeping the heat off of us. I don't know what's going on, but honestly why should we care? You hated all those fuckers anyway," Lee waved his hand. Leave it to Lee to not give two shits about people you had all worked with going missing. More worried about how everyone perceived your school.

“Do you think we should be worried?” You questioned Lee.

His brows furrowed as sharp eyes kept on yours. “Neither of you need to be worried about a thing. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,” Lee’s voice darkened. Pulling the entire atmosphere of the room with his words. Something about that sat deep inside you.

Lee always did make you feel safe. Keeping you company on late nights. Walking you to your car each day after school. Always keeping an eye on you. He always made sure you were taken care of. Letting quiet compliments slip. A kiss of a hand here or there.

“Whatever, Russell. As Principal, you should be more worried about this! It could be any one of us next!” Neal Gamby stomped his foot as he aggressively exited his seat. Storming out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

You looked over your shoulder as Gamby left. Blinking heavily at the loud sound of the door. “Man, what’s got his panties in a knot?” Lee laughed trying to break the tension with you.

“He’s just worried about everyone. He really does care,” you smiled at Lee. Rising from your seat and going around the side of his desk to be closer to him. Taking a seat on the desk directly next to his chair. Lee’s eyes scanned your every move. Eyes dancing up from your legs to your face. A grin painted his expression.

“You trying to say you aren’t worried?” Lee questioned with a cock of his eyebrow.

“I know you can keep me safe,” you said.

Later That Night…

You adorned a store-bought bat costume. Doing your makeup dark to match the Halloween theme of the dance. Walking back into your work place, meeting Gamby in the hallway. Dressed with some cheap werewolf costume.

“Have you seen Lee?” Gamby questioned you without a greeting.

“No, I just assumed he would be here already,” you shrugged. Walking into the gymnasium together.

“He better not back out on us. I’ll be madder than hell if he pawned this off on me and you,” Gamby grumbled through his mustache. You rolled your eyes at him. Looking around the decorated gymnasium. Admiring all the spooky decor that had been hung up by the remaining teachers. You felt a sudden weight behind you, like someone was trying to sneak up on you.

“Boo!” Lee Russell grabbed you and Gamby by the shoulders. Causing both of you to jump and scream. Turning to see him dressed in a vampire costume. Fangs, red eyes, pale skin, collard cape, the whole nine yards. You softened your posture seeing him smiling in front of you.

“You look great, Lee!” You smiled admiring the craftsmanship of his costume.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I love this bat costume,” he spun you around.

“Glad to see you didn’t abandon us here for the night,” Gamby grinned, his attitude lightening up.

“Oh, lord, Gamby. You should’ve known better,” Lee placed his hand on his hip.

“I’m gonna have you two working the table tonight. But for now, Gamby go in there and make sure everything is getting set up right,” Lee commanded him. Gamby headed into the gymnasium, his immediate screaming orders echoed through the tall room. Lee’s attention coming back around to you. His hands immediately finding their place on your hips, long fingers massaging close to your ass.

“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” Lee growled in your ear. Cheeks heating up with his compliment.

“Thank you, Lee.”

The time had arrived for the students to pour in through the doors. You checked off each students name as they entered, Gamby stamping their hands to keep track of them. “If I was these kids parent, I wouldn’t be letting them out and about without me. Not with everyone who has gone missing in town,” he leaned over whispering to you. You nodded. An uneasy feeling about the night washing over you.

“Where is your daughter tonight?”

“Made sure she’s with her mom and Ray. No parties, no trick-or-treating, NONE OF THAT! I want my baby girl to be safe,” Neal proclaimed. Love for his daughter shining through.

The night continued and the list of remaining names grew shorter. Students dancing it away in the gym as you and Gamby sat on your phones. You checked your makeup in your camera. That familiar weight behind you again. You looked up to see Lee Russell standing behind you. A bright smile painting his face. Jumping slightly as he caught you off guard. “Jesus, Lee. You have to stop sneaking up on me tonight,” you breathed out.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just came to check that y’all got all the names marked off the list,” Lee questioned Gamby.

“You know it,” Gamby responded not looking up from his phone.

“Well, Gamby I need you to man the table solo for a bit. There’s something going on outside and I need Y/N to come with me. Can’t tell if it’s some kids snuck off drinking or a girl sobbing over a boy. Either way, I’m gonna need you,” Lee ran his hands from your shoulders down your arms. Chills danced over your skin. His lips were next to your ear, “You coming?”

“Y-Yeah,” you swallowed. Arousal pooling in your stomach at his deep tone.

Lee led you outside. Following closely behind your boss. Chill from the Autumn air swept over your skin as the outside door opened. Walking around the building to a dark spot hidden away from any cameras.

His strong grasp pinned you against the wall by the throat. Practically inhuman strength with how easily he moved you. Choking around his grasp. Dark eyes fixated on your face. A small amount of fear coursed through you. Lee’s demeanor changing so suddenly set your alarm off. His sharp teeth reflecting off the glow of the night. You noticed how there was no distinction between his real ones and the fangs.

“What’s going on, Lee?”

“I just wanted to be alone with you,” his thumb played with your bottom lip, his hand never leaving your throat. Lips pressed into yours. You melted into him slowly. Hands wrapping around his neck as you pressed your body into his. Your tongues explored each other mouths, deepening the kiss you shared. Teeth clanking together, noting how realistic his fangs felt.

“Ow,” you pulled away, your hand covering your lip. The metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth. Pulling your hand away to see the small diluted drop of blood on your hand. “Your gang hooked my lip,” you smiled, “Think you can take them out if we’re gonna keep doing this?”

Lee stared at you silently. His eyes darting between your lips and your eyes. The chill of a breeze hitting you.

“I… I can’t,” Lee whispered. You raised an eyebrow confused by what he meant. Maybe it was the type of adhesive he used or maybe he just didn’t want to put them in his pocket.

“Why?”

Lee coughed, pulling away from you. Tension forming between you. Something that needed be said, but obviously wasn’t.

“Lee—“

“They’re real,” he confessed, red eyes meeting yours.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach. Had Gamby been right? Going on and on about supernatural beings suddenly making an appearance lately. Was Lee one of them? What did he mean? What was going on?

“Wh-what?”

“I need you to stay calm,” his hand wrapped back around your throat holding you still against the wall, “I know this sounds crazy— and it is crazy— but I am a real Vampire.”

Your jaw hung open. Confused. Concerned. Scared. Feeling tears wallow up in your eyes at the realization.

"Di-Did you kil-kill all of them?"

Lee stared at you, sighing unsure if he should tell you the truth or tell you what you want to hear. Red eyes slightly glowing in the moonlight. Eyes darting between yours, noting the glimmer of fear behind glazed eyes.

“You’re not going to like my answer,” Lee gritted his teeth together.

“I need you to tell me,” you stiffened your posture.

“I did,” he admitted. Tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. Tears poured from your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Lee’s thumb wiped away some of the tears on your cheek. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he whispered softly. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. Frustrated that he had kept this from you. Grateful that he had not wanted to hurt you yet. His hand cupped your cheek, lips falling back onto yours. Fear escaped your body as you were suddenly engulfed in your feelings for him. Knowing now what he meant about keeping you safe.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I would never,” Lee kissed you again.

One of his fangs grazed down your throat, a small trickle of blood forming where he had punctured you. Red eyes stared into yours, fighting his desire to completely devour you. He was salivated at the sight of your red blood dripping down your jugular. Fighting off the feeling rising in his pants as well. Adoring the sight of you before him.

“If you can’t handle this… I need to know now,” Lee whispered below your ear. His tongue flattening against your neck as he lapped up your blood. “I promise I won’t hurt you not matter what,” he reassured you. Trying to give you a genuine choice so you did not say yes out of fear.

You ran one of your hands through his hair. Staring at the man you had known for quite some time. Wondering if the version you knew was real, or if it had all been a facade to get you close to him.

“I’m in love with you. That doesn’t mean you have to say yes. But no matter what happens, know I will spend the rest of your life protecting you,” Lee promised into your skin.

You blushed. His eternal commitment to you had been spoken into existence. Loving his dedication to you. Slightly aroused by the thought of him being dedicated to you not matter what. Forever.

Lee sucked at the small wound on your neck. Tasting you like you were his last meal. Leaving a deep purple mark from his lips. Marking you as his own.

“Lee,” you whispered into his ear.

“Hmm?” He vibrated into your skin, unable to pull himself away from your delicate taste.

“Til Death?”

“And even after that,” Lee wrapped his arms around you. Feeling your heartbeat throughout his body. Adoring how you fit perfectly against him. His semi-hard cock pressed into your stomach.

“Take me,” you huffed.

Lee swiftly picked you up, as if you weighed absolutely nothing. Carrying you around to his car. Opening the back door and letting you get in first. You laid on your back with your legs propped up, Lee kneeled down still on the outside of the car. He pulled you to him, propping your legs over his shoulders. Kissing over the tights that adorned your legs. Biting softly at your tender flesh. A soft moan fell from you. Lee kissed your soaking clothed core. Smelling arousal dripping from you, turning him on even more.

One of his fangs grazed across the fabric covering your pussy. Ripping them just enough for him to get his finger through. With his long fingers, he tore the fabric of your tights and panties, revealing your plump mound. Begging for any attention he was willing to give. Bright red eyes stared intently at your core. Flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up your opening. Your hips arched for him pushing you further against his tongue. “Tastes so fucking good,” Lee growled into your core.

Chills danced along your skin. Hands tangling in his hair as he lapped at your opening. Lips attaching onto your swollen nub. Sloppy sounds pouring from the backseat of his car. His name a scream on your lips. You grinded your hips into his face. “You sure are greedy,” Lee cooed, eyes staring up at you while he still worked your core. One of his fingers slid inside you, pumping itself slowly. Curling as it felt your walls spasm.

“Getting close, pretty girl?”

You nodded aggressively. He really knew how to get you there. Your legs began to shake as you approached your unwinding. Looking down to catch his glowing eyes staring into yours. Throwing your head back against the seat as you came undone. Walls fluttering around his finger as he pulled away to watch how you gripped him.

Lee crawled on top of you in the car, hooking an arm under to help you scoot back in. Closing the door behind him. A small glimmer of moonlight danced across his face above you. Admiring how handsome he was. The sharp teeth decorating his smile. He shimmied his pants down to reveal his erection. Eyes asking permission. You softly nodded.

He lined himself up with your entrance, easing himself inside half way. Pulling back out before sliding in again. Watching how your face contorted at the feeling of his cock penetrating you. Sighing as your walls morphed around his member. His thrusts moving at a generous rate. Your head was thrown back against the seat, moaning his name over and over again.

Lee’s lips attached to your exposed neck. Kissing and grazing his teeth down your pulse. The heat of blood flowing through your veins driving his hunger. “I’ll fuck you til the end of time,” Lee growled with a groan, “Keep you forever. My love. My girl.” Growing more aggressive with his thrusts. Hips snapping into yours with the loud sound of skin smacking together. Sloppy as your juice combined.

“Lee,” you moaned when he hit a certain spot inside you.

“Let me make you mine. I can have you forever. Please,” Lee pleaded against your neck. Hot breath touched your skin. Panting as he fucked you.

You realized what he was asking. A small pit forming in your stomach. Unsure of it was fear or another orgasm.

“Please, Y/N. You can be my eternal love. I love you,” he huffed against you. Teeth breaking your skin softly.

“Lee-“

“All mine,” he praised, licking your skin.

“Yes,” you moaned.

Teeth punctured your skin.

[END]

// Happy first day of October everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story because I adore this request! Thank you so much for reading! //

Thank you @megangovier for this awesome request 😘🖤

@vaultdwellingghoullover ~ @asgardian1023 ~ @toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @nerdypinupcrystal ~ @nerdragenewvegas ~ @theeverlastingspirit ~ @dichromaniac ~

#lee russell #lee russell x reader #vice principals #walton goggins #walton goggins x reader #au #vampires #october 1st #october #writing #fanfic #sexymonsterfics

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