Untitled

Technically true. Completely irrelevant to her argument. But you went anyway because you were twenty years old, it was Saturday night in Los Angeles, and there was a limit to how many nights in a row you could stand staying in the apartment listening to your neighbor fight with her boyfriend through the drywall.

The venue was smaller than you expected. One of those spaces that operate in a half-renovated warehouse, where half the renovation was intentional and half was simply giving up. High ceiling, brick walls, lighting that was clearly trying to make the place look cooler than the budget allowed. You had liked it as soon as you walked in. It had that energy of a place that still hadn't figured out its own size.

Di had disappeared in literally eight minutes. You had turned to comment on something and she was on the other side of the space hugging three people at once with the golden retriever energy that was her trademark in any social situation. She had shot you a smile from across the room, half apology, half you know how I am, and you had responded with a magnanimous gesture because it wasn't the first time and it wasn't going to be the last.

You knew how to be alone in places like that. You had your system: a drink in your hand to have something to do with your fingers, strategic position with a view of the stage and the crowd, expression of a person who is exactly where she wants to be. It always worked.

The first band was good. Genuinely good, a guitarist who knew what he was doing, a short, well-executed set, the kind of thing that makes you think okay, this might be worth it. You had walked out of there with your mood lifted and the financial guilt slightly relieved.

The second band had gone up and you had been excited for exactly forty-five seconds, until the sound in the speakers exploded at a volume that involuntarily reorganized your thoughts. It wasn't even a question of style, you gave up personal preference easily when the execution was good. It was that you physically couldn't distinguish guitar from vocals, bass, drums, anything. Everything arrived as a compact wall of frequency that hurt behind the eyes.

You had stayed staring at the stage with the expression of someone doing mental math about how much that had cost per minute.

When the second band came down, Di had reappeared with two drinks and the absolutely clean conscience of someone who wasn't there to listen.

— Are you enjoying it?

She had disappeared again before you could elaborate. You had taken the drink and decided to explore. There was a side hallway that led to an area in the back of the venue, not exactly signposted as forbidden, but clearly not the main space. One of those areas that exists in every small venue, a kind of limbo between backstage and nowhere, with a long couch leaning against the wall that had seen too many things to tell and a lamp on the ceiling flickering with a slightly disturbing cadence.

You had sat down because your feet were asking for it and the third band hadn't started yet and you needed five minutes away from the noise.

You were on your phone when you heard footsteps.

The boy who appeared at the entrance was tall in a way that seemed slightly inconvenient. One of those lanky ones who were still finishing understanding their own extension, shoulders slightly curved inward like someone who grew up too fast and hadn't made peace with the ceiling yet. Dark hair, black t-shirt, skinny jeans. He saw you, stopped for exactly half a second with the expression of someone who wasn't expecting an audience, and then made the universal movement of ignore, I have an objective here toward the boxes stacked in the corner.

He stood near the boxes long enough for it to become evident that he had no objective at all.

Then he turned.

You looked at each other.

— Hey — he said.

— Hey.

— You hiding from the noise too?

— More or less. My feet are calling for help.

He looked at the couch, looked at you. Made a slightly interrogative gesture toward the empty space. He sat down, left generous space, elbows on knees, sat looking forward for a few seconds before turning slightly in your direction with the expression of someone who wants to start a conversation but is calculating the approach.

— You liking the bands?

— The first one was good — you said, on autopilot.

— And the second?

You looked at him. He had an open expression, curious, with no sign that he was expecting a specific answer.

You had paid for the ticket. You were in the red. Honesty was the least you deserved.

— The second one I thought was shit, honestly.

He blinked.

You saw the exact moment he considered speaking and decided to speak anyway.

— I'm the vocalist of the second band.

The silence had texture.

You felt the heat rising in your face before any rational thought arrived, and your brain offered, in a completely useless way, a replay of everything you could have said in place of what you said.

— I… — you started.

— No, please continue — he said, and there was something in his voice that was containment with great effort — I accept the feedback.

— I didn't know…

— Clearly.

— In my defense — you reorganized — the sound was blown out. I literally couldn't hear almost anything you guys played.

— That's... technically true — he said, with a calm honesty you weren't expecting — I couldn't even hear myself up there. I was basically screaming into the void and hoping for the best.

— That's horrible.

— It was genuinely one of the worst sonic experiences of my life — he said, with the seriousness of someone being completely honest — and I was participating in it.

You tried not to laugh. It didn't work.

He heard it and something in his face changed, came out of that slightly hunched posture and turned into something else, lighter, more real.

— So technically — you said, when the laughter passed — you also think it was shit.

— I think the sound was shit — he said — The band is good. Important distinction.

— Really?

— I'm legally obligated to say yes.

— Legally?

— I signed a document. I can't elaborate.

You laughed again, and this time he laughed with you, and something in the space between you two changed address without warning.

He had leaned back on the couch, his shoulders finally at peace with gravity. You had lowered your phone at some point without noticing. The lamp continued flickering on the ceiling with its cadence of mild psychological terror and neither of you commented because there were more interesting things happening.

— How did you get in here? — he asked — This area isn't open to the public.

— The door was unlocked — you said — I'm not an intruder. I'm opportunistic.

— That's somehow more concerning.

— Or more honest.

He looked at you with a smile that arrived slowly, from the corner to the center, and there was something in it that was different from the previous smiles, less contained, perhaps more comfortable.

The conversation went to places that venue conversation doesn't normally go. Bands you both had seen, the absurd price of rent in LA which generated a tangent of disproportionate joint indignation, the crowd up front, the questionable architecture of the venue.

— Who puts exposed pipe up there — he said, pointing at the ceiling with genuine aesthetic offense.

— Someone who ran out of money for drywall.

— Or someone who watched too many YouTube videos of lofts.

— Same thing.

He let out a laugh that was more sound this time, real, and you felt that in your chest in a way that was useful information you preferred to ignore for now.

He was funny. Not in the way that tries to be funny, in the way that observes things from a slightly crooked angle and says what it sees without ceremony, and you laugh before realizing you were going to laugh. It was the most dangerous kind. You knew that. This type of funny guy was the one that joke by joke when you noticed you were already without panties.

You stayed anyway.

At some point you had turned more in his direction. At some point he had gotten closer. The geometry of the couch had shifted configuration without either of you consciously managing it.

He was in the middle of an observation about the first band's setlist when he stopped.

Not because he finished the reasoning. Because you were looking at him in a way that wasn't just listening anymore, and he had noticed, and when you lifted your eyes from the place where they had landed without permission he was looking back at you with an expression that didn't have anything shy left in it.

The lamp flickered.

— That lamp is really something — he said, looking up, and his voice had dropped a tone for no apparent reason.

— Ignore the lamp — you said.

He brought his eyes back to you.

The smile that appeared was quiet and completely sure of itself, and it was the first time that night you had seen that smile, and it was exactly then that you understood you had stayed too long on this couch.

The kiss happened in the space between that word and the next flicker of the lamp. Organic the way those things are when neither one of you is pretending you don't want it, without ceremony, without announcement, just the logical continuation of everything that had been said and unsaid in the last forty minutes.

He kissed with attention. Not the performative attention of someone who is aware they're being evaluated, but that of someone who is genuinely interested in what's happening, slow where it should be slow, deeper when you responded in a way that asked for it. His hand went to your face first, then to your hair, and the contrast between that careful gesture and the mouth that wasn't being careful at all caught you off guard in a very good way.

You put your hand on his chest, feeling his breathing accelerate under your fingers, and he came closer as a natural response, his whole body leaning in your direction.

When you stopped to breathe he stayed looking at you for a second with an expression that was hard to categorize.

You laughed against his mouth and he took the moment to pull you in for good, his hand going down to your hip with a firmness that wasn't shy at all, and you went, with no resistance whatsoever, until you ended up in his lap in a way that was clearly where the situation had been going for some time.

He was more solid than the thinness suggested. You felt that in your hands, in his shoulders, in the way he held you without apparent effort. And you felt something else too, when you settled in his lap, that made you stop for half a second.

He noticed that you noticed, and let out that low laugh, more in the chest than in voice, and his mouth went to your neck with an intention that ended any additional processing in progress.

His hand found the way to your thigh, going up slowly under your skirt, and you let it, with your fingers in his hair and your head tilted to the side giving room to his mouth that was doing things on your neck that made it difficult to remember your own name. When his fingers got where they were going and found you already completely without patience for foreplay, he made a low sound of approval that went straight to your stomach.

He knew what he was doing. Not in the insecure way of someone who is trying to get it right, but in the way of someone who pays attention, to the sounds you were making, to the small ways your body had of saying yes, there, like that, and responded to that instead of executing a memorized sequence. His mouth continued on your neck while his fingers worked, and you let your head fall back and the sounds come out because the band up front was making enough noise to cover it and the couch had seen too many things to care.

You came right there, in his lap, with your fingers closed on his t-shirt and your breathing completely undone, and he stayed with you until the end before pulling his hand up and hugging you with a naturalness you weren't expecting from someone who didn't know your name.

You stayed like that for a second that was just breathing.

— Hi — he said, again, his mouth in your hair.

— Stop — you said.

— I'm just saying hello.

— You're horrible.

— You just made a sound on my shoulder that suggests the contrary.

You were going to answer but he kissed you first, and the answer became irrelevant.

At some point the geometry of the couch stopped being enough and you migrated to the back wall. You were on your knees before you had consciously made the decision. It was more a natural consequence of the situation, his hand in your hair, you looking up, and the logic of the moment leading to an obvious place.

You had started to work his pants when he put his hand on your shoulder.

— You don't have to…

— I know. — You looked at him from below, with all the calm in the world — At least let me touch you.

You didn't wait for an answer. You put your hand on him over the fabric and the sentence died in his throat before it came out.

It was a lot. You already knew since his lap, but with your hand you had a more precise dimension of the size of the problem, and the problem was considerable, the kind that requires respect and planning.

You worked slowly, feeling him get harder under your fingers, hearing his breathing lose the constant rhythm he had maintained until now.

You opened his pants.

When you put your hand on him for real he let out a low and involuntary fuck that escaped before it could be held back, and you smiled before you could stop yourself.

He looked at the ceiling with the expression of someone asking for patience from a higher entity, and you found that so funny and so good at the same time that you made an executive decision.

Just the tongue first, light, just the tip, just to see, and the sound that came out of him was longer and deeper than the previous one, his hand closing in your hair without pulling, just holding as if he needed an anchor.

Fuck it, you thought.

And you did, for real.

He went very quiet in a way that was clearly active effort, his hand in your hair firm but without pressing, his breathing going down and up in a rhythm you were controlling without him having given permission for it. You weren't going to be able to take it all, it was obvious you weren't going to, it was too big to pretend otherwise, but what you could do you did well, and the sounds he was emitting were sufficient confirmation of that.

You tried to go deeper, gagged once, tried again and gagged again.

— Wait — he said, after a while, his voice completely unrecognizable — You don't have to… — he stopped. Started again. — It's a lot.

You took your mouth off for exactly one second.

— I know what I'm doing — you said.

— I'm not doubting it, I just…

— Relax.

— I'm trying to…

— I know. — You ran your thumb over him once, slowly, with intention, and the argument died right there. — Let me continue.

He went quiet.

You went back to what you were doing, at your pace, the way you wanted, and his hand in your hair was the only language available to him, how much he tightened when you did something right, how much he loosened when you slowed down on purpose because you had discovered that you liked the sound he made when you took away what he wanted before giving it back.

When he got close you felt it before he spoke, the tension different, the breathing different, the wait, wait, wait low that was honest warning.

He stayed with his eyes closed for a moment, his hand in your hair now just resting, his breathing coming back slowly. He threw his arm over his eyes and stayed like that for a few seconds.

— Give me a second.

— Am I in a hurry?

— No — He took his arm off his face and really looked at you, with an expression that was a lot of things at once — You're a problem.

— I know — you said.

He pulled you back up with his hand on your arm, and when you got to the level of his face he kissed you in a way that was different from all the previous ones, quieter, deeper, the kind of kiss that says something without being able to put it into words yet.

He turned you with your back to the brick, his hands on each side of your head, and the height difference that on the couch was irrelevant now became evident in a way that was completely inconvenient for your nervous system. His lips came back to yours while his fingers went back to between your legs, pushing your underwear aside just enough to be able to slide two fingers into you. And the bastard knew well what to do with those long fingers.

And it was there, in that kiss, leaning against the wall with your knees still weak, that you felt it.

It wasn't dramatic. It was that familiar and absolutely traitorous sensation, a low and discreet cramp that your body chose the worst possible moment to announce.

No.

Not now.

For the love of everything that is sacred, not now.

You stayed quiet for a second, hoping very much that you were wrong.

You weren't wrong.

He felt you stop. His fingers that were practically buried inside you also stopped.

— Is everything okay? — His voice low, his mouth still close to yours.

— I think I… — you started, and didn't finish because there was no elegant way to finish that sentence.

You pulled away a little. Looked at him. He was looking at you with that whole attention turned toward you, no rush, genuinely asking.

— I think I got my period — you said, with the voice of someone delivering bad news at a board meeting.

He blinked.

You saw the processing happen in real time.

— Ah.

— Yeah.

Short silence.

— Are you okay? — he asked, and the tone was real care, not the embarrassment disguised as politeness you were expecting.

— I am, it's just… — you looked at his hand, which had landed on your thigh, and didn't need to finish.

He looked too. A small stain on the tips of his fingers. He stayed looking for a second with no readable expression, then lifted his eyes to you with a calm you definitely didn't deserve.

— Relax — he said, simply.

— I'm so sorry…

— It's okay — Firm, gentle — It happens. It's happened before. I don't care at all.

You had already grabbed a tissue from inside your purse before he finished, passing it to him without being able to look directly, and he cleaned his hand without drama while you died inside on a level that went beyond cellular, reaching molecular.

I wanted it so much, you thought, looking at the couch in front of you. I wanted so much to give it up for this man and my uterus decided to sabotage me at the worst possible time of my entire life.

You stayed in silence for a few seconds doing the bitter calculations of the universe conspiring against you, and that's when the idea appeared. It was a slightly insane idea. It was an idea you would normally save for another occasion, with someone you knew better, in less improvised circumstances.

On the other hand: decommissioned green room. Los Angeles. Tall and funny stranger who had just made you come for the second time against a wall using only his fingers.

— I have an idea — you said.

— Go ahead — he said, with the tone of someone who is genuinely willing to listen but reserving judgment.

You said the idea. The silence that followed had a very specific texture.

— Are you… — he started — Sure?

— I'm very sure.

He ran his hand through his hair. Looked at the ceiling. Looked back at you with an expression that was clearly doing its own calculations.

— I've never done it that way… — he stopped — I mean, it's not that I object, I just want to be sure that you…

— I want to — you said, with a clarity that cut his sentence in half. — I just want you to fuck me. That's all I want right now.

He stayed looking at you for a second with an expression that was a lot of things at once.

— Okay — he said. — But I'm going to use a lot of saliva.

— I know.

— No, for real — He made a pause, slightly mortified with himself — A lot. An embarrassing amount.

— That's fine.

— And I'll go slow. Very slow.

He stopped.

You looked at him.

— Fuck me — you said.

He closed his eyes for exactly one and a half seconds with the expression of someone making peace with an important decision.

— I have a condom — he said.

— Of course you do.

— I'm a responsible adult.

While he went to his wallet you repositioned yourself on the couch, and when he came back there was something different in the way he moved, more focused, more present, that whole attention concentrated on you in a way that made it hard to breathe properly.

He used his fingers first, slowly, with a patience that bordered on cruel, preparing carefully, his voice low and his eyes on you every second, asking and listening to the answer before continuing. His mouth stayed on your neck, on your shoulder, on your ear, keeping you present in your whole body while he opened you up with an attention that was almost irritating it was so good. You had your hands on his shoulders and your face buried in his neck, waiting for your body to give in layer by layer.

And he really kept the promise, every now and then spitting on his own fingers, sliding better to continue stimulating you. When he finally entered it was so slowly that you held your breath and stayed like that.

— Is everything okay? — he asked, his voice completely hoarse, and you felt the effort it was being to hold the rhythm.

— Keep going — you said against his skin — Don't stop.

He didn't stop.

It was slow. It was deep. It was with that attention he had in everything, his hand anchored on your hip, his mouth alternating between your neck and your shoulder, and you went relaxing until you reached a point where it wasn't discomfort anymore but something else entirely, a dense and full sensation that climbed up your spine and left you with your head completely empty.

And then the switch flipped. The shy boy who had just said he had never had sex like this had now assumed the posture of the man who was willing to make you come one more time before having his own relief.

It was a specific and identifiable moment, the rhythm changed, the hand on your hip tightened with that pressure he always got right, and a sound came out of his chest, low and involuntary, that went straight to your stomach.

— Touch yourself — he said, low, his mouth in your ear.

It wasn't an order or a request, it was the exact middle ground between the two, the voice of someone who knows what they're asking and why.

Your hand went down without hesitation, and when you started he deepened the rhythm at the same time, as if the two movements were part of the same thing — and they were. Everything connected, everything building together at a frequency that had no parallel with anything else.

You touched yourself and he moved and the sensation multiplied in a way that left you with your head absolutely empty of any useful thought, dense and constant and growing without pausing. You heard your own breathing turn into something else, louder, less controlled, and your free hand went to his back because you needed to hold onto something.

— That's it, just like that… — he said, more to himself than to you, his voice completely undone.

You came with a sound you would never describe to anyone, your fingers leaving marks on his back that he would feel tomorrow, your whole body tightening around him, and he came right after with God's name in his mouth and his hands on you as if he needed to hold onto something.

You stayed quiet for a while that was just breathing and heartbeat coming back to normal.

The lamp flickered.

He lifted his head. Looked at you with a soft and slightly stunned expression, like someone who didn't expect the night to be like this.

— I really wanted to have fucked you the normal way too.

The mourning in the voice was genuine, measured and absolutely sincere.

You laughed first. He resisted two seconds before going along, and the two of you laughed on the old couch with the lamp flickering above as faithful witness to everything.

— I really need to go to the bathroom — you said, with the urgency of someone making an official statement.

He let out a laugh on your neck.

— Me too. Go first. — A pause — Meet me back here after?

— Sure — you said.

You went to the bathroom. You didn't come back.

It wasn't cruelty. It was more a question of you being sitting in the women's bathroom of the venue doing the balance of the situation and coming to the conclusion that if you went back you'd want to stay more, and wanting to stay more would make it harder to leave and especially to look back into the face of a very handsome stranger who had been the first person to enjoy this kind of unconventional pleasures.

In the Uber home you stayed with your head leaning against the window glass watching the lights of Los Angeles passing by, and your brain went cataloging the night with that specific honesty that only appears when you're alone and don't need to maintain any version of yourself for anyone.

You had let a stranger fuck you in the ass on a green room couch.

Without lubricant. Just the condom, a dream, and an amount of saliva he had promised and delivered without lying.

And it hadn't hurt at all. Like, not at all. It had gone in smoothly in a way you weren't expecting and that clearly said something about the care he had taken, about the irritating and wonderful patience he had in everything, about the fact that he had stayed inside you asking are you okay more times than anyone had bothered to ask in a long time.

You looked at the Uber ceiling.

You don't even know his name, you thought.

That was true.

And you're probably never going to see him again.

That was probably true too.

You stayed with this truth for a second, testing its weight, waiting to feel something that was regret.

Part two: whatsapp, after

you Di

Di i'm here i'm here what was it

you so do you remember when you said it was going to be a good night

Di yes???

you it was

Di TALK

you so i was in the back hallway right sitting on that old couch then a boy showed up very tall very hot very funny

Di CONTINUE

you we kept talking for like an hour then we hooked up, it was delicious but then i got my period in the middle

Di NOOOOOOOOOOOO HOW HORRIBLE POOR THING

you Diiiii LET ME FINISH

Di ok ok sorry talk

you so i was like it's fine but i wanted so much to fuck this man you know so i had an idea

Di what idea?????

you i let him do anal

Di YOU LET HIM DO WHAT???????? YOU LET A STRANGER DO ANAL JUST BECAUSE HE WAS HOT

you he was VERY hot in my defense

Di I DON'T EVEN DO THAT WITH MY BOYFRIEND

you but that's your problem

Di are you okay?? did it hurt??

you it didn't hurt at all he was very careful asked if i was okay like six times

Di oh my god i'm processing

you i'm in an uber going home btw i went to the bathroom and didn't come back

Di YOU GHOSTED HIM???

you i strategically withdrew

Di it's fine i love you but you're crazy

you i know

Di no, seriously stop for a second you went to a show that you complained a lot about the price of the ticket met a hot stranger got your period in the middle and the solution your brain found was to LET HIM DO ANAL

you when you put it like that it sounds crazy

Di BECAUSE IT IS CRAZY but you know what it's very feminist of you

you HOW IS IT FEMINIST???

Di you prioritized your own pleasure literally took it up the ass because you were horny that's feminism applied in practice

you D this has nothing to do with feminism

Di it has everything to do with it simone de beauvoir would be proud

you i'm going to kill myself

Di was it big?? was it or wasn't it just yes or no

you it was a lot

Di MY GODDESS and you left without his number? you're very fearless and very stupid at the same time it's a rare talent

you i know it was better this way it was just one night, you know

Di but his name at least you asked for?

you So…

Di YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR HIS NAME???

you we didn't ask each other's names

Di you let a nameless man do anal on a green room couch of a venue without lube

you he used a lot of saliva

Di I DON'T NEED THESE DETAILS

you you asked

Di i needed to know but i didn't need to KNOW you know i'm putting this in the category of things that only happen to you

you big category

Di very did you get home?

you just arriving now

Di go to sleep drink water take a shower and tomorrow you tell me everything in detail

you i already told you everything and you said you didn't need it

Well, not necessarily haunted in the traditional sense. But there was most definitely something co-inhabiting the space with you.

It all started when you moved in a few months ago. The place wasn’t a Hilton by any means, but it was a roof over your head and heating and cheap enough that you could just about ignore the sounds of traffic from the busy street below. Moving to Los Angeles for your internship with the tech company had already drained your bank account enough just in flights and U-Haul fees, so the cheaper the better when it came to your accommodation, really. 

Sure, there were a few broken floorboards, and there was a stain on the kitchen ceiling that you were sure had already started growing. Of course, the random power outages didn’t help, but they had advertised on the listing that the grid was temperamental, so you had known what you were getting yourself into. The family of cockroaches you had found overtaking one of your cupboards on the second day just added charm… And the constant banging of the boiler was easily drowned out by some music and good mindfulness practice.

So, it was okay. Or, at least, it was a home.

Except for the fact that it was fucking haunted.

The first week, you had simply attributed the slightly odd occurrences to being a part of the furniture; more charming oversights that the landlord had failed to mention. A draft under your bedroom door, the creaking of plaster every time the wind howled outside, the scratching you were convinced was coming from inside the walls…

Things didn’t get weird all at once. Not enough for you to become super suspicious; just aware.

It started small enough that you honestly attributed it to sleep deprivation and lack of a routine. You were still adjusting, after all, to the new city and new lifestyle, so it made sense that your brain would be sluggish in catching up. 

When you woke up one day, and your book had shifted on the nightstand, you didn’t think much of it. You could have easily knocked it in your sleep, or simply misremembered where you placed it. You ran out of salt pretty quickly, too, in the first month, but you’d always had a bad habit of being overzealous with the condiment, so that wasn’t much cause for concern. 

Of course, you were pretty fucking devastated to learn that your favourite blue panties weren’t anywhere in the house. That one took you a little longer to accept that you had probably left them back at your old place. If you thought about it long enough, you were certain you had a memory of unpacking them, but clearly not. Clearly that was another mystery that your tired brain had cooked up somewhere between long meetings and nights awake due to the sounds of sirens in the city.

Oh well. They would be a nice surprise for the new tenants in your old place. 

Still, you went about your days only mildly plagued by the strange occurrences. There were some more simple changes to the exhaustion that had come with a shift of scene after all, the dreams being a big one. 

You had always struggled with sleeping back in your old place, but work was so tiring and the climate in LA so different to what you were used to that most nights when you clambered into bed, you were asleep before your head hit the pillow. 

It seemed as if your body was finally catching up with over twenty years of not dreaming, for now there was one weekly. They were never anything exhilarating, more mundane recounts of things that brought you a vague satisfaction and left you feeling well rested. 

On one particularly long occasion, you had managed to lock yourself out of the apartment. After an hour of sitting in the hallway waiting for your landlord to rescue you, you practically fell into bed, only to dream about that very hallway. Except it was longer, with more doors than you could count. Behind each one was something different: a room filled entirely with darkness, one with a blazing fire, and another overtaken by small creatures you did not recognise as being an actual thing. They had sharp talon-like claws and beady red eyes, and they traversed walls as if able to stick to them.

Any other time, such a sight in your dreamscape may have scared you, but a weird sensation accompanied the vision that had you feeling rather… well, the opposite. When you woke with a stunted intake of breath, you were half expecting terror to rocket through your veins like it would any sane person.

What you were not expecting was the vague heat between your thighs that seemed to have established itself through the night. It wasn’t exactly unwelcome, a pleasant throbbing sensation that seemed to have woken you. You would accept way more wacky dreams if they came with such side effects. It was an easy fix after all, reaching your hand out to the top drawer of your nightstand where your vibrator—wasn’t? 

You fumbled around in the drawer for a few more minutes before sighing and accepting that you’ll just have to use your fingers. That was an easy mistake to have made, really. You were a young woman living on her own; it could have literally been left anywhere in the house.

So you made do. It wasn’t exactly cause for concern.

The first occasion you really remembered thinking something was off was when you waltzed into the kitchen one day, clad only in an old shirt and an old pair of underwear you spared for lazy days.

The kitchen was cold. Not cold as in hey, we turned off the main building’s heating so now you’ll freeze for three days (as had happened once on only your third day of living there). One single spot was like walking on ice. 

You thought you were going insane at first, for you’d always been pretty bad at regulating your temperature, and you weren’t exactly wearing much. That was until you walked through it again. And again. And again and again and again. The boiler was working fine (or as fine as the decades-old thing could be), and the rest of the space was a nice, homely temperature. But that one section by the counter that held your spice rack, about half a metre squared, was like you had been transported to Antarctica itself. 

Of course, even then you had found some way to rationalise it when the initial confusion subsided. Maybe it was just your imagination or some faulty plumbing done way back when. Your house had random cold spots and the light flickered occasionally. So what? It was old.

That was until you couldn’t rationalise things anymore. 

You had been there for just over two months when you first had the thought; the big oh shit moment. 

It was nearing two in the morning by the time you got home from work, some big meeting with a rich client that your boss had wanted you to sit in on for your ‘education’. It was long and boring as hell, and when the door to your apartment finally gave way under the rusted key, all you wanted to do was fall into bed and go to sleep. Sitting in the same clothes in an office for fourteen hours, however, had made you feel rather unsanitary, so you sucked up the tiredness and moved to the shower. 

The steam and warmth of the room were a big welcome after such a long day, and you accepted the water washing away any aches from hunching over a desk as if it was made of liquid gold. For a moment, you wondered why you had dreaded this at all, for it was exactly what your body and soul needed.

Until everything went black. 

The lights and the shower snapped off all at once, leaving you soaking wet with shampoo running into your mouth, fumbling for a towel that you had not prepared in the dark. The damn breaker must have gone again, which would have meant you had to get on your hands and knees in a kitchen you hadn’t cleaned recently, whilst soaked through and frozen cold. 

You were starting to regret a lot of things about this move, more than just the career choices. 

Somewhere on the side, your hand found purchase on one of your towels, fluffy and welcoming as you wrapped it around yourself and stepped out of the shower. Now all you had to do was fumble your way out of the bathroom in the dark, because of course you had left your phone in the bedroom. Easy stuff, right? It wasn’t even like you’d bought one of those apartments with a glazed bathroom window to let in some light. Nope. Your bathroom had no windows and was perfectly pitch black. 

By some miracle, you found the door handle on only your fourth attempt to grab into empty space.

At which time the lights came back on, and the shower burst into motion once more. 

Not weird, though. Just faulty wiring. 

Or at least, that would have been what you’d chalked it down to had it not been for the gigantic handprint on the bathroom mirror. 

You bolted. 

You had enough time to at least grab some clothes so as to not traumatise your neighbours, but then you were gone.

And when you returned the following day (after renting a somehow even creepier motel, where the threat was this time drunken students and rat infestations), it was with books on all sorts of crazy shit in hand.

The librarian had looked at you like you were insane when you first asked for the section on demonology. She more than likely didn’t get many young women coming in for ancient texts on ghosts and ghoulies. But crazy you supposed you had become. 

Even as you tried to rationalise every occurrence away, you knew there was only one explanation for it. A sleepless night in the motel room, listening to partying in the room next door and deep diving on Reddit told you that doing some research wouldn’t exactly hurt. 

So here you were, armed with five large books on anything that could be helpful, with two more Amazon parcels waiting outside the door.

Of course, there was still that tiny niggling part of your brain that told you it was all in your head. But if that part turned out to be right, then you would let it say I told you so at a later date. Better safe than sorry.

Apparently, there were a lot of ghost-type creatures that could inhabit a space, so the research proved to be more of a task than you had first expected. 

The main book you had been recommended after a very quick Reddit search (slash beg) was called The Lesser Book of Solomon, an aptly terrifyingly titled collection listing seventy-two types of demons that ‘existed’ in the world. You weren’t entirely certain what you were dealing with, but that felt like a good place to start. It had been available on Amazon, too, which was a hilarious concept if you thought about it, so it was a no-brainer. 

You spent the better part of the day hunched over the gigantic text on your sofa, suddenly hyper aware of every movement in your apartment. Every time you turned your head, you could have guaranteed something was watching you, but it disappeared before you could fully manifest an acknowledgement. 

If you had been paranoid once before, you were practically vibrating with tension now.

The Lesser Key of Solomon was not exactly a light read.

For starters, it was old. Not old in the physical sense, considering it was an Amazon reprint, but the text seemed to radiate ancient knowledge to the point it felt like the pages might still disintegrate under your fingertips if you turned them too aggressively. The writing itself was dense and full of references to things you had never heard of in your life, and it assumed a baseline knowledge of the occult that you, a twenty-something tech intern whose most spiritual experience to date had been a guided meditation on YouTube, most certainly did not have.

Still, you persevered. Seventy-two whole demons, each with a name, a rank, a description, and an accompanying set of abilities that read less like a supernatural encyclopedia and more like the world's most fucked up Craigslist job ad. Duke of this, President of that, specialising in manipulation and deception and this and that and everything and nothing. It was like LinkedIn for the underworld.

The problem was that you had no idea what you were looking for.

You didn't have a name to search, or a clear set of symptoms to match. All you had was a cold spot, some missing belongings, a handprint on a mirror and a fucked up feeling. The book was vast, and the descriptions were vague enough to overlap in ways that offered absolutely no help to your cause. One demon could cause disruptions in the home. Great, so could thirty others. Another could manipulate the physical world. Wonderful, join the club. By the time you had gotten three-quarters of the way through, your eyes were burning, and you had about fifteen sticky notes marking pages that could be relevant but probably weren't.

So you moved on.

The second book was a more general text on hauntings; a modern one, mercifully, written in actual English and not some antiquated script that required a degree in theology to decipher. It covered everything from poltergeists to residual hauntings and sentient spirits; the whole lot. There were moments where you thought you were getting somewhere when you read about cold spots as a sign of spiritual presence and felt momentarily vindicated, but then the descriptions would fall short. 

Nothing fit. Bits and pieces came close, enough to keep you reading at least, but nothing ticked every box. It was like trying to complete a jigsaw out of a flattened LEGO set.

And throughout it all, something in the apartment felt off. Like someone, or something, was taking great pleasure in watching you fall apart.

By eleven that night, your back ached from sitting in the same position for so long, and the words on the pages had started to blur into one incomprehensible mess. You were no closer to an answer than when you had started, and twice as frustrated. So you did the only sensible thing and gave up for the day, dragging yourself to bed where sleep claimed you embarrassingly quickly.

And with sleep came the dreams.

The water was warm. That was the first thing you registered; not where you were, or why, or how you had gotten there, but that the water surrounding you was warm. It wasn’t distinctive in that it was a bath or an ocean, but it felt personified in a way. It ebbed and flowed and curled around your limbs like it knew where it wanted to be.

You were drowning. You knew that, somewhere in the back of your mind. You were completely submerged, water filling every space around you, pressing in on all sides. It should have been terrifying. It should have sent panic searing through your chest and your arms flailing for a surface.

But it didn't.

If anything, it was the most peaceful you had felt in weeks. The water wasn't pulling you under so much as holding you there, cradling you in a way that mimicked a delicate touch. It moved across your body in slow waves that seemed to respond to your gurgled breaths, pressing closer when it hitched, and then easing off just enough to let you settle before starting again. There was a patient rhythm to it, like it had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it.

You couldn't see anything. The water was dark and endless in every direction, and yet you were not afraid. 

Most importantly, somewhere beneath the warmth and the pressure and the peaceful rocking of whatever this was, there was a heat building that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

You woke up at four in the morning, drenched in sweat with your heart hammering so hard you thought for a moment you were having a heart attack.

It took a long second for you to lie there staring at the ceiling, as you tried to figure out if you were still dreaming. Because the sensation between your legs was very much still present and very much not fading. The sheets were tangled around you like you'd been thrashing, and the room was clammy in a way that the shitty heating system in this building had never once managed to achieve.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You were out of bed before you had even made a conscious decision to move, feet hitting the creaky floorboards as you practically lunged for the stack of books on your coffee table. Because that wasn't just a dream. You didn't know how you knew, but you did. 

The dreams were part of it. Whatever it was, the dreams were a part of it.

You called in sick to work at six thirty, which was early enough that you got your manager's voicemail rather than having to fake a cough in real time. Small mercies. Then you made the strongest coffee your limited supplies could handle and sat cross-legged on the living room floor with every single book spread open around you, because clearly the desk and the sofa were not providing the right energy for a breakthrough.

If the sensation of being watched before had been unnerving, now it was tenfold.

It took three more cups of coffee and a borderline unhealthy amount of cross-referencing before the identifiers first appeared.

Incubus/Succubus.

You had skimmed past them initially in the Lesser Key, buried somewhere between a demon that could summon storms and another that could turn water to blood. But now, hunched on the floor surrounded by open books like a student on a last-minute revision kick, the description hooked something in your brain and refused to let go. The words melded into one at first, but eventually you were able to piece together some of the basic descriptions. An incubus or succubus was a demonic entity that attached itself to a person, one that visited in the night and that manifested through dreams. Unlike a lot of the other ghoulies you had read about, these guys had the ability to manipulate the physical environment, and they usually chose a target and fixated on them with an obsession that bordered on devotion.

You read it again. And again. And then once more with your hand over your mouth because suddenly every odd occurrence since you had moved in was rearranging itself in your head like the most fucked up crossword solution you had ever seen. The cold spots, the missing items, the handprint, the dreams; God, the dreams. Those weren't just a symptom of stress or exhaustion or too much screen time before bed. 

They were the demon’s fucking business card.

The more you read, the worse it got, because apparently, the feeding mechanism of an incubus was not unlike a feedback loop. In short, the thing drew strength from attention. You know, from the very act of someone lying in bed at night thinking about it, and especially from the particular brand of physical response that your dreams had been so generously providing. 

Which meant that every time you had woken up flushed with that ache between your legs that had you reaching for your nightstand, you hadn't just been having a weird dream; you had been fucking feeding it.

Wonderful.

This time, when you went to the library, you daren’t ask the lady at the desk to show you to that specific section for fear that she might call the police on you. Which of course meant you spent far more time than you would have liked searching for books with either demon in the title or description, but it spared you a part of your dignity. 

Armed with two new texts and your remaining pride, you made it back to the apartment in record time, ready to dive back into your studies. You were getting disturbingly good at this in a rather short time. Maybe if the tech thing didn't work out, you could have had a future in amateur demonology. Your heavily religious mother would be thrilled.

You propped the books under one arm and twisted the key in the door, shoulder barging it open. You missed the counter when you tried to toss the keys onto it, but you didn’t bother stopping to pick them up as you already had the goal of changing into something comfier in mind. So, getting to the bedroom was your first priority. 

Which is when you stopped dead in the doorway.

Your blue panties were sitting on the bed. Neatly placed dead centre of the mattress, smoothed over carefully like they were a gift. 

For a long moment, you just stared at them.

Then you picked them up, threw them across the room with a force that was entirely unnecessary  and said, very loudly, to absolutely no one, "You are not fucking funny."

The light in the hallway flickered. 

You chose to interpret that as a coincidence and not as the demonic equivalent of laughter, because if you didn't, you were going to lose what little remained of your sanity.

After as much sleuthing as your tired brain could manage, you decided that books could wait until tomorrow. You needed sleep more than you needed answers, and you were exhausted enough that even the prospect of another dream wasn't enough to keep you awake. Whatever this thing was, it could have one night off from being researched. You were tired, and you were annoyed, and you were going to sleep like a normal person for once in your goddamn life.

Of course, demons didn’t care much for what made something normal.

In this dream, there was no water or endless hallways of doors. There was nothing at all, really, just a vast and endless darkness that stretched in every direction and swallowed any sense of up or down or sideways. 

For a while, there was nothing. Just the dark and the sensation of floating, and a quiet that wasn't emptiness so much as it was anticipation.

You felt the hand before you saw it. A pressure at your waist, the unmistakable feeling of fingers splaying wide across the side of your body through your pyjamas.

Then came a second hand, at the back of your neck this time. Fingertips dragging slowly upward into your hair, tracing a path along your scalp that sent a shiver of recognition cascading down your spine. You exhaled, or tried to, but the sound came out more unstable than you intended.

The hands seemed to like that. 

You caught a glimpse of them when you looked down. They were large, disproportionately so. Or maybe that was just how they looked against your body, fingers long and deliberate and covered in ink. You couldn’t make out what the markings were in the low light, and you feared that your mind wouldn’t be able to connect the dots anyway in such a state.

A breath ghosted across your collarbone, and you shivered so violently you thought for a moment you might wake yourself up from sheer force. It was teasing and intentional, trailing a path from your shoulder to the dip of your throat in a way that made it very clear this wasn't accidental. 

Just as you were prepared to turn your head, to do everything in your power to find the shadowed assailant, the hand at your waist began to drift. It sailed downwards with agonising slowness, fingertips tracing the curve of your hip and dipping lower in a way that made your body arch involuntarily toward it. You could feel the heat of its palm hovering just above your thigh, close enough to make your skin prickle with expectation but not close enough to satisfy anything. It lingered there as if it were waiting for something. Permission, maybe. Or maybe just the pleasure of watching you squirm.

The breath moved to your ear. Just the breath in the air, nothing more; no lips, no face, no voice. Just that constant presence and the overwhelming awareness that whatever this was, it was enjoying itself.

You woke at three twelve in the morning with your hand halfway between your thighs.

The books came out before you'd even fully sat up.

You read until sunrise, which sounds far more romantic and dedicated than it actually was. In reality, it involved a lot of squinting at tiny print with one eye open, intermittently burning your tongue on coffee that you kept forgetting was still fresh, and getting progressively more frustrated as every single text told you the same thing in slightly different words. Incubi and succubi were drawn to a specific person, they fed on desire, visited in dreams, were horrifically persistent, bla bla bla, bla bla bla bla.

None of that was new, nor was it helpful. You needed a how, not a what. How to identify which one, communicate even, or, for god’s sake, how to make it stop. But apparently centuries worth of demonology scholarship had very little to say on the matter beyond pray about it and hope for the best, which was not exactly actionable advice for someone who hadn't been to church since she was a baby (and even then, you had apparently cried throughout the entire service).

By seven thirty, the alarm you'd forgotten to turn off from the previous day scared the shit out of you and brought with it the horrible realisation that you could not, in fact, call in sick again. One mental health day was fine. Two in a row when you were still in your probation period at a company that already thought interns were disposable was career suicide. So you dragged yourself up, shoved the books aside, and began the process of making yourself look like a functioning human being.

You were late, obviously. In the mad dash to find something clean to wear, you yanked open your underwear drawer to find it depressingly sparse. You had intended to do laundry the day before, but it had not exactly been a priority in practice, what with the demonic haunting and all.

That was exactly how you ended up standing in your bedroom doorway staring at the blue panties.

They were still on the floor where you'd launched them at the wall. You stared at them for approximately four seconds before muttering "whatever" and pulling them on, because you were already late enough, and you were not about to let an infernal entity dictate your underwear choices.

If anyone had tried to ask you what had happened at work that day, you probably would have started chanting sixteenth-century banishing spells instead.

By the time you got home, the sun had already begun to set. Every inch of your body was fatigued and achey, because it turns out that lack of sleep thanks to some horny demon took a toll on you after a while. You kicked off your shoes, dropped your bag, and stood in the hallway of your apartment, seriously weighing up the cost/benefits of flying home and choosing a career in farming.

Instead, you straightened up, slapped your face once, and headed to the bedroom. Your clothes came off first, being tossed straight back in the laundry hamper that you promised yourself you would do in the morning. The underwear wasn’t a priority to rid yourself of yet, because you had these stupid fucking overstimulating ass hoop earrings in, that you were two seconds from pulling straight through your lobes if you didn’t rid them immediately. 

As you fussed over the back clasp of the left one, you walked past the mirror.

And there, reflected behind you, was the thing that had been keeping you up for so many nights. Standing in the doorway as if it belonged. 

As if he belonged. For this thing was very much male.

You turned around.

For a moment, your brain simply refused to process what it was seeing, as if the image in front of you was buffering. Because a man was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, and he had not been there three seconds ago, nor had you heard a door open or a floorboard creak or a single goddamn sound.

He was tall. That was the first thing that registered through the static in your head, because he had to be at least six feet and a bit,  nd the door frame you had always thought was generous suddenly looked small with him standing in it. Broad, too, in a way that was less bulky and more proportioned, as if every inch of him had been designed with a specific kind of authority in mind.

He was, of course, dressed entirely in black. A button-up shirt sat open over another black shirt beneath it, both tucked into dress pants that were tailored close enough to suggest this was not a creature that had just thrown on whatever was available. This had been designed to make someone look.

And God, you were looking.

His jaw was defined enough to make you briefly forget that you were supposed to be terrified, and his eyes were a deep, endless sort of dark that reminded you uncomfortably of the void you had floated in during your dream.

His hair was a similar shade, albeit a bit more on the brown side, parted in the middle and falling just below his eyebrows in a style that wasn't quite straight, like it had been pushed back with wet hands and left to do whatever it pleased. It looked damp. Perpetually so, as if he had just stepped out of some netherworld that didn’t account for hairdryers.

Then your eyes dropped to his neck, where you found the image of a hand, tattooed in dark ink across the front of his throat, holding an apple.

You knew that image. You knew what it meant. Every person who had ever sat through a Sunday school class or opened a Bible or even just went on Twitter knew what it meant. ‘The original temptation’, or whatever. It was so on the nose it was almost funny, except you were not laughing, because the tattoos didn't stop there. They continued down past the collar of his shirt, disappearing beneath the black fabric and reappearing at his forearms, where his sleeves were rolled to the elbow.

With the same distinctive lines you had seen on those hands in your dream.

Before your brain had managed to catch up with that final piece of information, the incubus (because this was definitely an incubus) smiled. 

“All that reading and you still seem surprised to see me.” 

His voice was smooth. Not like honey, or butter, or any of that cliche crap, but the kind of sound that told he was used to giving out orders and expecting everyone to bend to his will without so much as a stuttered breath. Then, he turned his head, just enough to really highlight the curve of his jaw, and motioned with one perfectly curated finger to where the books lay open on the coffee table, The Lesser Key of Solomon on top. 

“You know, you could have just asked.”

For what felt like an eternity, you just stood there. Half undressed with one earring still dangling from your hand, staring at the thing in your doorway, standing there like he paid half the rent and had every right to be in the building.

The incubus didn't seem bothered by the silence. If anything, he seemed to expect it.

"I should probably introduce myself." His words were perfectly casual, as if this were a standard meet-cute instead of an underworld haunting, but you could see the faint traces of a grin on his lips. "You can call me Noah."

You stayed silent again, of course. You weren’t entirely certain you remembered how to speak.

The demon’s, Noah’s, eyes drifted back over to the top book on the coffee table again, and this time, there was more open delight on his face. "Of course, that's not what they'll have me listed as in there. Those witches were rather derogatory with some of the titles they gave me." He paused just long enough to lift his attention back to you. "I hope it didn't scare you off."

As if he found his own words, casual as they could be, hilarious, the demon let out a short chuckle. 

"My apologies, that's a slight lie, and I don't want to start this friendship on lies." Every syllable of that word, friendship, was laced with something unsettlingly haunting that you did not know how to process. "I actually quite like fear. It's delicious."

You only moved enough to drop the earring to the floor, the metal hitting the ground with a clang and rolling into the abyss under the bed. Noah didn’t break eye contact once during the ordeal, entirely unfazed by your steadily shattering composure.

A tilt of his head was the only signal he had even noticed the commotion in the first place. "Are you scared of me?"

You didn’t need to answer; the truth was written across every inch of your face.

"Good." His voice was a husk this time. "You should be."

The sheer audacity of that, the absolute certainty with which he said it, was enough to crack through your paralysis and let the first coherent thought of the last five minutes reach your mouth. "Pretty overly confident."

Noah wasn’t deterred by your dismissal. The corner of his mouth curved upward in a sick sort of satisfaction. "That would have been very brave of you if not for the fact that I can see you trembling."

You had been so afraid to take your eyes off of him that you hadn’t even noticed the vibrations rippling through your entire body.

The seconds stretched out between you as if he had designed it exactly this way. Noah didn't move; he hardly even blinked. From what you could see in your basic vision, without breaking eye contact, his chest didn’t even rise and fall with the motion of breath. He remained in the doorway, almost giving you the space to process exactly what you were seeing.

Which you were doing, slowly and incredibly anxiously. 

Because now that you had noticed the trembling, you couldn't stop noticing it. Your body had apparently made the executive decision to fall apart without consulting your brain first, and there was nothing you could do about it except stand there and feel every single tremor work its way through you while he watched and enjoyed it.

Strangest of all was that under his watch, you didn’t feel scrutinised. You felt appreciated. 

That realisation was what snapped you into action.

Your legs obeyed before your brain had signed off on a destination, and suddenly you were lurching forward, straight at the doorway, straight at him, because the only way out of the bedroom was through the space he was occupying, and you would rather collide with a demon than spend one more second pinned under that gaze.

Your shoulder connected with his arm as you shoved past, and two things registered simultaneously. First, that he was solid. Horrifyingly solid, not shadow or illusion like you would have guessed, but a tangible, fiery mass. Second, that he let you pass.

He didn't grab you or block your path or even tense at the contact. He only turned his body just enough to allow you through, with the barest expression of pleasure.

You only made it halfway to the exit before he was in front of you again. 

You hadn’t heard him move, nor had you seen it for that matter. But suddenly, he was there between you and the front door. 

And to really stop you dead in your tracks of escape, before you even had the chance to lurch past him once again for the door handle, his hand had found your neck.

It wasn't with a force that suggested he wanted to hurt you, but his fingers still closed around the column of your neck firmly enough to stop you in your tracks. Your back hit the hallway wall, and you didn't know if he had pushed you or if your own momentum had carried you there. It didn't matter either way, because all you could focus on was that his hand was warm and his fingers were long enough to span the entirety of your throat in one hold. 

”You can’t hide from me, sweetheart. I know exactly how you’re really feeling.” His face dipped just enough so that his lips could brush against your earlobe. “I can practically smell it on you.”

If you were to use the sane part of your brain, you may have even laughed and told him you didn’t know what he was talking about. But you knew that was fruitless, and perhaps even an outright lie. 

You hadn’t even really noticed it happening, but there was undeniable heat growing just through being touched by the entity. It was not dissimilar to the heat that gathered after every one of your dreams, except intensified by the physical presence of the man, or thing, now in your space. 

It didn’t help, either, that your current state was easily described as scantily clad. Your underwear was the only thing separating you from Noah, and he seemed to come to the realisation at the same time, if the way his free hand snaked around your bare waist was anything to go by.

"You really should have done laundry before now," he teased as his thumb traced a long line against the band of your panties where they rested just below the small of your back. "I'd have been far more creative with them if I'd known you'd be wearing them." 

As if to punctuate his words, he gave a small, testing squeeze of your throat. You should have been embarrassed by the sound you let out, but you found that, slowly, your senses were becoming entirely consumed by thoughts and feelings too dangerous to let materialise. The sentence itself should have sent you scrambling for the pepper spray you kept in your handbag, or better yet, running for the fire escape. But instead, they made your stomach tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way his fingers were now pressing into your skin.

All at once, the sensations against your body disappeared. Noah took a step back, leaving you cold with his absence. His movements were fluid and confident as he stepped over to your front door, not even fumbling with the complex lock system as if it were second nature. It popped into an unlocked position with a vibrant click, and then he turned back to you expectantly. "If you still want to run." He let the sentence hang in the air between you, his words both an invitation and a threat. You stayed embarrassingly rooted to the spot, staring at the deadbolt against the door that now hung uselessly against the wood grain. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to grab your keys, throw on shoes (and maybe some clothes), and accept the offer to escape through the door. The rest of you, however… the part of your brain that had been so consumed and overwhelmed by this awakened arousal over the last few weeks… well, that wasn't listening. 

Noah waited, exhibiting far more patience than you had seen on many grown humans. This patience, however, was sinister, lingering, but that did not lessen the weight of his offer. An option, an out. 

Despite your better judgment, you stayed. 

Slowly, almost maliciously, that grin returned to Noah’s lips, baring white, sharp teeth. He took a step closer, then another, and another. You couldn’t move much further than the wall, so that was where you stayed as he encroached on your personal space. 

It was second nature to him for his knee to slip between your legs, the sheer height of him meaning it rested so close, yet all too far away at the same time, from your core, which suddenly ached with a longing you hadn’t experienced before. His hands, large and commanding, found purchase on the wall on either side of your head, not touching in an infuriating show of self-control for one so calculated. 

“You know,” he started, looking down at you with eyes inhumanly dark, “I don‘t even have to touch you to make you cum.” 

Noah dipped his head at last, lips resting a mere inch above your collarbone so that his breath teased the skin there. Still, he didn’t touch, but none of that mattered when his next words turned your brain to putty.

“It’s just more fun that way.”

There was a moment, blindingly clear amidst everything else, where the fog lifted just enough for you to really understand what was happening. Not what he was doing, but what you were doing. You were standing in your hallway, half-dressed, pinned between a wall and something ancient and inhuman that had been feeding off your desire for weeks, and the door was right there, unlocked. He had given you the out, and you had not taken it, and that was a choice. That was your choice.

And somewhere in the wreckage of every rational thought you had ever had, past the books and the research and the sleepless nights and the incapacitating fear, you knew that it was the right one. You wanted the hands you had felt in your dreams to be real, and they were right here, braced against the wall on either side of your head. You wanted to know if the heat he made you feel asleep was even half as devastating when you were awake and looking at him and conscious enough to remember it.

You wanted him. Terrifyingly, inexplicably, and entirely knowingly.

So you looked up, met those impossibly dark eyes, and managed to cease your shaking.

You didn’t have to voice the complete decision to Noah; he obviously knew. Neither did you distinctly remember the journey to the bedroom, but you came to again when your legs hit the back of the bed, and Noah pushed you down into a seated position at the edge of it. 

He didn't kneel so much as descend, terrifyingly predatory as he settled between your spread legs. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing them further apart with an authority that left no room for protest. The rough texture of his palms against your bare skin sent shivers racing through you, and you realised he'd removed his own shirts at some point during the transition to the bedroom. The tattoos you'd glimpsed earlier now covered his chest and arms in intricate, dark patterns that seemed to have a consciousness of their own. 

“Wonder if you taste as sweet as you do in your dreams.” Noah's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and with one sharp tug, he tore them from your body, the straps on the left side snapping open.

The air was suddenly cold where the fabric had been, but only for a second before his mouth closed over you. His tongue was relentless from the get-go, stroking deep with a focus that threatened you to collapse against the bed. That rational part of your brain that had been screaming warnings earlier was now utterly silent, overwhelmed by the reality of his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise and the way his teeth scraped against you just shy of painful. 

Noah didn't give you time to adjust to his rhythm or settle. He simply took, his mouth moving against you with the same absolute certainty he had shown in every action since he started haunting such a space. There was no testing of boundaries or space for gentle teasing, just an immediate and impossible-to-ignore pressure that made a sound rip from your throat before you could stop it. His fingers dug into your flesh in response as if to anchor himself, or maybe to keep you from moving away. Not that you could have, even if you'd wanted to. The force with which he held you in place made it clear that it wasn't an option he was offering.

Your hands flew to his hair, just wanting something physical to steady yourself on, but that only had Noah stopping with a guttural growl that reminded you exactly what he was. When he looked up again, his eyes had taken on an unnatural glow that had a glimmer of that familiar fear mixing in with the unending arousal. 

“You’re so good and studious, I’d have thought you’d have better discipline.” Was what he managed before he was pushing away from you with a similar growl and rising to his feet with no further chance at stimulation from his mouth.

Without missing a beat, Noah’s hands found your wrists, practically dragging them to pull you halfway up the bed until your back collided with the sheets. He was on his knees on the mattress in an instant, an item in his hands that you were too nervous to turn away from his disappointed gaze to identify. It didn’t take long to figure out, for something was being tied so tightly around your wrists that it dug into the skin and left only enough room for blood to circulate.

Your panties. Half broken now, utilised fully as an instrument of his perfect seduction throughout every step.

“In case that wasn’t clear,” he hovered over you now, emphasising his words by pulling down the left cup of your bra and sparing a beat to graze his teeth against your nipple in threat, “You don’t get to touch me.” 

His hand found your throat again here, but the force was more than before by the door. You could still breathe below it, his technique practically perfect, but it did not lessen the effect of the action as the contact sent a fresh wave of anticipation right to your core. Noah doubled one sensation with another, his free hand trailing a single pointer finger down between the centre of your breasts over the wire of your bra, down your stomach and precisely to where you needed it without even looking. 

He did not take his time when he pushed his fingers into you, nor did he take it one at a time. All at once, two long digits entered you with a firm push until he was buried past his knuckles and could go no further without first working you open. The moan that it elicited got caught somewhere below his palm on your throat, instead coming out as more of a strangled gasp.

Noah chuckled more to himself than to you, viewing you solely as an ornament of his satiation, and the sound vibrated through his body and into your skin where you were joined. "You're soaking," the words carried the edge of an insult, but were spoken like a prayer. His thumb pressed suddenly against your clit without warning, finding a maddening pattern that had your wrists fighting against their makeshift restraint to break free. "It's almost insulting how easy this is." 

You tried to answer, to say anything at all, but all that came out was a desperate, breathless noise that made his grin wider. Your mind was a hazy blur of pleasure, overcome entirely by the feeling of his fingers inside of you. You had been touched before, and touched yourself countless times, but something about this felt different. You weren't sure if it was his power and influence or genuine spectacle of his skill, but it was as if every nerve in your body was alight with a fever.

Without missing a beat or losing a moment of connection, Noah lifted his knee and deposited it against your hip, pushing you back down against the mattress where your body had just begun to arch. It was a firm reminder of exactly where you stood in this dynamic. You had said a total of three words to him since his arrival, and it was clear he had no intention of allowing you the opportunity for any more at the current moment in time. 

Noah kept his eyes on your entrance as he added a third finger, and the stretch was so abrasive you wanted to yell out and grip at his arms, but the hand on your throat and panties tying your wrists together stunted either of these from occurring. Instead, you were left pliant and accepting below him as he took exactly what he wanted. 

Not that you minded when it felt like this. 

You felt the delirious wave of pleasure cresting quicker than you would have ever intended, but you were powerless to stop it. Noah clearly sensed it approaching, for he dug his knee further into your pelvic bone and doubled the efforts of his thumb against your clit. 

The orgasm crashed over you with a violence that left you gasping against his palm on your neck, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding hold. Noah watched with detached fascination as you came apart, his expression one of clinical appreciation rather than shared pleasure as he fed on the tremors of your release. 

His fingers didn’t relent even as the first wave attempted to subside, Noah not taking his eyes off of your throbbing heat as he dragged your orgasm out. His knee against your hip did not allow you room to escape, the thrashing of your legs useless against his weight as you tried to move away from the sheer overstimulation of the moment. 

When he finally pulled away, it was all at once. Every part of him that had been pressed against you pulled back to leave you gasping against the bedsheets. 

It took a long moment for you to come to again, finding Noah sat back against his ankles nearby. There was something in his face, unreadable and oddly blank, and for no reason at all, it had you speaking through broken breaths in a strange reassurance. “I’m okay.”

Noah tilted his head at that, and oddly enough, the gesture made him look more human-like; more empathetic. It didn’t last for long, but the soft murmur of reassurance from your lips clearly served to spur him on as he snapped back into the demeanour that spoke to his desire to devour you whole. 

You were still catching your breath, the aftershocks of your climax making your thighs tremble against the sheets, when Noah leaned forward again. His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your bottom lip. The touch was deceptively gentle, but the promise was the opposite. 

"Good," he purred, the gentleness leaving his system all at once just as quickly as it had appeared. "Because we're not done." 

Before you could process the implication, he was making it clear in actions alone. Swiftly, Noah grabbed you by your restrained wrists once again, dragging you along the bedsheets until you were at the edge. Once there, he pulled you up so effortlessly until you dangled from the air, and deposited you back down on your knees, facing across the room. From this angle, he could step up behind you, body pressed against yours, until you could finally feel the effects of his own arousal. 

That alone was practically dizzying, the sudden reminder that he was just as affected as you, even if he seemed so composed. He fed on your desire without even the need for physical contact, that much was true, but to know that, despite that all, there was still a physical remnant of his own wanting… 

Your wrists, still tied together, fell limply in front of your body when released, and Noah hooked one arm below them and around the underside of your breasts through your bra so that he could pull you even more firmly against his chest. The motion forced your head up with a jolt, and that was when you noticed exactly where you were positioned. 

The mirror was directly across from your body. As if he had been planning this all along.

The reflection presented back to you was a mess. Your hair was tangled up on your head, one earring in, one bra cup pushed down below your breast with the other still covered, and your skin was a blotchy red canvas from overexertion and sheer desire. Noah hovered over your shoulder, his arm wrapped around your ribcage, and his own reflection seemed to take on an unearthly glow in the low light. 

You tilted your head to look back at him, but Noah caught your jaw in his free hand with pathetic ease. He applied enough force to turn your head back to the glass until you were eye to eye with him. 

“Look at yourself.” 

And you did. A mess, yes. But a beautiful, unholy one at that. One that would make the gods you were taught to worship as a child weep if only they could see you. Destroyed from a few touches, held in place by the personification of the very thing they feared. You only hoped they were watching as you gave yourself over to the dark side. As you allowed this thing to feed from you; to gain power from your utter destruction.

“You look like you want to say something.”

He was right. There were far too many thoughts dancing around your brain, but all you could manage to get out was a pathetic “Please…”

Noah grinned at that, sharp teeth reflecting once more in the mirror as he met your pleading eyes that made you look like a lost puppy. Even without his powers, he knew what you were begging for, but that still was not enough for a creature as insatiable as him. He grazed his teeth along your earlobe, and then down the line of your neck, pausing only to growl, “I’m going to need more than that, sweet thing.”

His request was punctuated by a jolt of your body against his, sending your ass back in collision with his clothed erection. It pulled a whimper from you, painfully submissive and needy, and took you a moment to recover before you could speak again. “I need you.”

“Not good enough,” he tutted, accentuating the scold with a firm bite against the crook of your neck. For a moment, you thought he might even pull blood, but his tongue soothed the ache deliciously within a second. “Your desire alone fuels me sufficiently, yes, but to hear you beg is even more delicious. Are you going to do that for me?”

The words tumbled from your throat with ease all of a sudden, when the hand holding your face ceased its hold, only to grip against your thigh with perfectly kept nails digging into skin. 

“Please! Please, I want you to fuck me–no–I need you to–” You would have been embarrassed over such desperation had you not heard the breath of a groan leave Noah’s lips “Want you so bad I can’t think straight.”

That seemed to satisfy him, if the way his hand slipped from your thigh and to his pants was anything to go by. The simple motion of it already had you moaning, and it wasn’t long before you felt something warm, hard and incessantly big being pushed between the top of your thighs so that it could brush against your folds. 

Noah held himself there for a moment before you could feel his hand from behind, using it to tease his cock against your clit. Throughout it all, his eyes never left you. Even when your own fluttered close over the feeling of him against your heat, Noah watched the whole thing. 

You couldn’t see from this angle, and even if you made a move to look, he would not allow it, but you knew he was big. Of course he was, he was a demon, but even so, you were certain the size of him would be overwhelming. These suspicions were confirmed rather quickly when the head of his cock pushed into your entrance with an agonising slowness that told he was devouring the passion it elicited from your lips. 

Your head fell forward upon the intrusion, chin finding your chest with an almost inhuman moan, but Noah did not allow such an action. His cock stilled where it was sunk just a quarter of the way into you in favour of that hand returning to your chin and forcing your head up so fast that you were reminded exactly how powerful he was. He could break your neck in one swift, easy motion if he really wanted to. He could hurt you in unimaginable, horrifically painful ways. And yet still, you ached for him more than you ever had anything in your entire time on this earth. You feared you would let him break you in two if it meant you could have some form of release from the misery of constant desire.

When he spoke again, or more growled, into your ear, his breathing was heavier than before. Sinister as ever, this time the command was a threatening growl that you would not disobey. “Watch.”

You did. And quickly, you found that you wouldn’t have been able to tear your eyes away even if you tried. 

The slowness of his first breach was gone in an instant, suddenly pushing in as far as he could go in one fast motion. It had you jolting forward against the arm restraining you, but you did not take your eyes off of the mirror image once. At first, you watched him, the way his lips parted as he let himself drink in the feeling of you clenching around his cock. He was watching it from behind now with unbridled awe, the way your cunt took him so perfectly, even if he didn’t completely fit. Noah seemed entirely transfixed, but he didn’t have to look at you to know you were staring at him, and without so much as a lift of his head, he was moving your chin back to look back at your own figure. 

You were met with your flushed face, a thin sheen of sweat forming on your forehead. You were just about to choke out a gasp when suddenly, he moved with a relentless force, giving you no time to adjust. 

Noah pulled out in one quick motion, then pushed back in just as hard.

He didn't allow you time to settle into a rhythm. He established one, brutal and punishing and exactly what you'd begged for without knowing the cost. Each thrust was a claim, driving the air from your lungs in abrupt, broken gasps. Your bound hands scrabbled against thin air, searching for purchase on something as the fabric of your panties cut deeper into your wrists with each impact. Every nerve in your body screamed, and the only thing that tethered you to reality was the reflection of his eyes watching you fall apart.

You watched, mesmerised and horrified all at once, as your reflection contorted with each impact.

Noah's grip around your ribcage tightened as he pistoned into you, but the hand on your chin finally relented in favour of finding your clit again. The obscene stimulation on your already oversensitive bud had you jerking against him, but he held you still with unnatural ease. The pornographic moan that you let out as he circled over that precious spot just right had him looking back up from your entrance to your face, drinking in the image of you being split open by his cock.

The sight of it all - the obscene stretch, the wet slide, the sheer violation of your own body welcoming it - unlocked something feral in you. A fresh wave of heat coiled low in your belly, tighter and far more urgent than before. You were close again, teetering on that precipice, when Noah adjusted.

In the first telltale sign that he was losing his own composure, he released his grip on your waist and sent you tumbling down to the bed until your backside was arched in the air and your face pressed against the mattress. Your arms were now pressed awkwardly under your body, but that ache could be addressed tomorrow, because Noah’s pace did not falter for a moment. 

He kept his thrusts rough and unrelenting, even as his hand now slipped to your hair, gripping your scalp until he could pull your head up. You were face-to-face with yourself again, but this time you could see him more clearly; the way he slammed in and out of you with expert precision. 

It was debilitating, watching him use you so freely, and watching your body welcome it as if he were not the type of creature that he was. You wanted more, craved him so deeply, even while he was still thrusting to the hilt with pleasure racketing through your every square inch.

He didn't allow you to look away, not even when the pressure built to a breaking point. His eyes held yours captive in the mirror, a promise in his own demonic ones as his thrusts grew more frantic, losing their measured rhythm. His hand slid from your hair down to your throat now that he was certain you wouldn’t drop your head again, applying just enough pressure to remind you of his control. 

The orgasm crept up on you, but you should have suspected the force with which it would hit. You came suddenly with a ragged cry, your body convulsing around him in violent waves of pleasure that made you lose sensation in your hands. It tore through you and left you immediately spent and on the precipice of collapse, but Noah did not stop. 

He drove into you through your climax, each thrust prolonging the aftershocks until they blurred into one continuous, overwhelming sensation. 

He kept moving through the shattering waves, as if you hadn't just come completely apart. His thrusts became deeper, if that was even possible, each one a blunt extension to the aftershocks still wracking your body. You were limp beneath him, held up only by the hand at your throat and the desperate need to watch his face as he neared his own release, but he showed no mercy. The overstimulation was an electric pain that bordered on pleasure, and you could do nothing but take it, your cries silent due to the rawness of your throat. 

You saw the shift in his expression as he reached some sort of release of his own, his hips pressing as flush as they could against your ass as he buried himself as far as he could go and held there. Noah's climax was not a quiet thing. What could only be described as a snarl ripped from his throat, a sound that was more animal than anything human, and you felt him pulse inside you, hot and impossibly deep. 

He wasted very little time pulling out of you in one smooth, fluid motion, leaving you empty and shuddering against the sheets. The absence of him was almost as shocking as the invasion had been.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your breathing.

It was shaky in a way that would have embarrassed you if you had any capacity left for embarrassment, which you decidedly did not. Your shoulders were still pressed into the mattress, your bound hands trapped beneath you, and you felt more wrung out than you ever had before in your life. You weren't sure you could move even if you wanted to.

Behind you, Noah hadn't made a sound. No breathing, of course, no shift in weight on the mattress, nothing to suggest that what had just happened had cost him even a fraction of the energy it had taken from you. Of course it hadn't. You were the meal. He was just well-fed.

You felt his hand first. Not on your throat this time, but at the back of your neck, fingers sliding into your hair with a slowness that felt at odds with the intensity of the past hour. He gathered a handful of it, gently enough this time that it didn't hurt but firm enough that you understood it wasn't a request, and turned your head to the side.

Then he kissed you.

It wasn't tender, or deep, or romantic in any sense of the word. His lips pressed against yours with an exactness that matched everything else about him, deliberate and controlled, and you felt something pull from your throat. It wasn’t like a physical pain, but more something almost out of body, like something was being drawn out of you through the contact. The last traces of heat still lingering in your bloodstream, the aftershocks still rippling through your nervous system, all of it seemed to flow toward the point where his mouth met yours as if he was collecting what was owed. Even now, he was feeding.

When he pulled back, his eyes had become those same dark voids from before, losing the glow they had obtained in the mirror. There was a satisfaction on his face that went beyond simple smugness, laced with ancient understanding and thoroughly satiated. This was a creature that was not concerned about time or quantity; it was a creature who knew without question that it would get it again.

Noah’s fingers found the knot of fabric around your wrists and pulled it loose with one easy tug. The now broken panties fell away from your skin, and he held them for a moment, running the fabric between his fingers with an expression of vague amusement before dropping them on the bed beside you.

"I have to say," he murmured, still close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, "you are far more generous than I anticipated." His thumb traced a lazy line along your jaw. "Every demon in the Western Hemisphere is going to want to know my secret."

You opened your mouth to respond, though god knows what you were planning to say, but the air beside you was already empty.

Just like before there had been no sound or sign of music; no dramatic exit. He was simply gone, as instantly and impossibly as he had arrived, leaving nothing behind but the indent on the mattress where his knee had been and a silence so complete it made your ears ring.

You lay there for a long time.

Your bra was still on, lopsided and ridiculous, one cup doing absolutely nothing of use. Your hands were free but marked with faint lines where the fabric had pressed into your wrists. The apartment was quiet in a way it hadn't been for weeks, genuinely quiet, as if whatever presence had been lurking in the walls and the cold spots and the flickering lights had been temporarily satisfied enough to retreat. Slowly, very slowly, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling.

You should have felt, at the very least, slightly disturbed by the whole revelation that you were being haunted. You should have been reaching for your phone to call someone, anyone, or googling emergency exorcism services, or packing a bag and getting on the first flight home and away from this state that had brought you nothing but tiredness and trouble.

Instead, you pulled the duvet up to your chin, curled onto your side, and thought about the fact that your shitty, overpriced, cockroach-infested apartment with its broken floorboards and its temperamental power grid and its stain on the kitchen ceiling was starting to feel a lot more like home than it had any right to.

And for the first time since you moved in, you fell asleep without dreaming.

a/n: author hates writing dirty talk so just avoided dialogue like the plague xxxx

uhhhhhhh. so i got very carried away with this as you can tell. but i really enjoy incubus noah so he may become a permanent character on this page so yeah.... more thots to come in the future i am pretty certain.

... i don't really have much to say just,,, hope everyone enjoyed????? strangely insecure about posting this LOL i am running away now

masterlist || taglist

“We gotta hurry to the pool, that’s where my brother is at.” Your best friend Lily said, as she dragged you down through the casino to get to the pool.

She knew you had a little hobby doing some DJing, lucky for you her brother was doing a gig in Vegas, you liked DJing but you didn’t know the whole thing of it. You found it cool though. She stopped right in front of the doors before you both were to go outside.

“Hey I know we just got here, but try and relax. I know your fiancé also left you recently, and it’s still fresh. I just want to see you get out again, and smile like old times.” You give her a soft smile at her words.

“I’ll try. Thank you for inviting me on your girls trip you planned.” You hugged her as she smiled while hugging you. She was dressed in pink along with her friend group.

“Let’s find you a man with a big dick!” She giggled as she pulled you out the casino to the pool area with her. You laughed at her comment.

You didn’t care for themes or knew about any. It wasn’t the friend groups fault they were more girlie and fun and like Lily. You were in a navy bikini, followed by shorts, flip flops, a band tee, and trucker hat. It was 103° when you woke up, only to get hotter out.

You followed behind her as she made her way to her friends at the cabana. They acknowledged you and were kind to you, and you didn’t care to know them much. You don’t drink often either but decided since it was a vacation and Vegas it would be acceptable.

After putting your stuff away and stripping off the clothes that covered your bikini, you made your way to the bar. Lily was also there getting some tequila shots.

“Give me 5 tequila shots please.” She looked over at you about to change it to 6 before you corrected her back to 5 and she gave you a look.

“You’re supposed to be having fun.” She whined, handing the bartender her credit card. You chuckled, before hearing someone beside you comment.

“Tequila is not for everyone.” The man had tattoos and sun glasses on, his hair was long and kind of blonde and shoulder length, he looked you up and down slightly before ordering himself a beer.

“Y/n, use to love tequila but now she prefers being sober. Shes so responsible.” She replied, winking at you, giving you a light push. You rolled your eyes at her words.

“I feel better sober.” You mumbled, as you glazed at the wine list they had at the bar. Lily took the tequila shots leaving you at the bar with a huff.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you. He wasn’t staring at you but you can see he was sneaking glances.

“Are you from here?” You questioned, getting his attention after he looked away. He turned his head back to you as you order a glass of dry wine they had.

“Oh no, I’m on a trip with my friends, we do music for a living. I design some stuff for tattoos and sell merch.” He answered. You cocked your head slightly wondering what music they did and what career can you have in music?

“We’re here for a festival. Pretty popular band too. My friend himself doesn’t drink much, but we like pools and what not so decided to stay a couple nights on the strip.” He went on, and then decided to introduce himself. (We like pools and what not. Oh okay👀)

“I’m Davis.”

You gave him your name in return before he nodded his head. “That’ll be $13” the bartender set down your glass of wine as you grabbed your purse to get your card.

“Put it on cabana 5’s tab.” Davis replied, the bartender nodded before walking away. He winked while walking away.

“Feel free to come by if you’re bored or need another glass of wine. It’s on me and my friends.” You heard as you walked back to your cabana, Lily’s friends were at.

“Cheers.” You heard everyone yell before throwing back shots. A lot of them already pre gamed and looked pretty drunk. You weren’t a big fan of drunk people.

The music finally cut to Lily’s brother Drew, the DJ. You watched as many people including your friends raced up to the crowd of people standing by his station.

Drew played a few songs that you liked. Classic party songs you’d hear in a club and a few rap songs too. You were impressed. You knew a little bit of how to DJ but not as much as he did. He did it for a living too while meanwhile you worked as some admin in a healthcare place.

Feeling dehydrated, you made your way back to the bar to order some water. Drew also happened to be there while he put some auto setting on getting himself a drink. He bumped you slightly.

“I can see you watching my set from the corner. You enjoying it?” Drew picked up his drink they handed him, waiting to your reply.

“I like it, I mix some stuff myself but it’s not as cool as yours.” You replied nodding your head. He offered you to go up there with him. You hated crowds but the wine in you was telling you to go, so you followed him back to his station.

He had a shit ton of buttons, mix discs and a whole computer set up. It was loud as can be but he let you take the stage as he watched. The crowd including your friends were yelling and vibing.

You didn’t know what to choose so you just chose some pitbull stuff to remix. It made everyone louder, and seemed to get stuff going. You felt a pair of eyes on you one that you couldn’t help but notice. Yes there was eyes all on you but ones that’s caught your attention.

Back at a cabana where Davis was, but it wasn’t Davis. It was someone else with tattoos and sunglasses. He had shorter hair and a La croix in hand. You looked away not thinking much of it, watching your friends take the dance floor. Lily knew you messed around with music and thought it was cool, she didn’t know you could mix so it was almost a surprise. She was also dancing with some tattooed guy with a man bun. He looked like he could also be friends with Davis maybe.

You finished a few songs before handing it back over to Drew. He thanked you and before you left he invited you to come perform with him at the nightclub.

“I want to see more of what you got. You’re very impressive and I want you to get another shot of doing this.” You smiled at his offer before accepting it. You had nothing else to do tonight.

You walked back to the cabana they were all at waiting. Some of them drinking water while the others were lying down. Lily managed to drag the tattooed man over to you guys.

“Guys this is Jolly. He’s the sweetest guy ever, and he invited us out to dinner with friends. Isn’t that cool?” Lily was pretty drunk but Jolly was too and happy to be around her.

“Ooooh Jolly found someone, finally!” Davis followed by La Croix guy, joined the conversation. You could feel his eyes more intensely on you.

“We’re going to have dinner at this cool place if you all wanna join us, we’d love to have you.” Davis turned towards you before raising an eyebrow. The girls of course accepted it, you shrugged before he poked you while you drank your water.

“You best be there y/n. Also Greta job up there, you’re good with music too.” He teased, you thanked him smiling at his comment.

“See you guys later.” Davis yells. As they waved and walked away.

You sat down, watching them walk. Well mainly him, something about him caught your attention but you weren’t sure what. You pulled out a cigarette before walking to the smoking lounge. You didn’t smoke often but you went to Japan with your ex and it was some of the last things you both enjoyed together. They were different from American cigarettes and you didn’t care much of what anyone says.

——

*Time skip*

“This place is amazing!” Lily announced, as she drank it in. It was all fancy and sparkly. Probably a couple hundred dollars a plate to even eat here and hard to get in from the looks of it.

Jolly told her to make sure we were all fancy with dresses and closed toed heels. You put your little black dress and heels to use. You forgot to mention to anyone you were meeting Drew at the club and had to leave early to get into the club and find out what you going to mix. You were kinda nervous from not having any experience mixing in a club, almost not wanting to show up from your nerves.

They showed everyone to the table. It had many different names on it. “Davis, Noah, Nick, Jolly..”

Yes it was assigned seating in a place like this. You found your name next to “Noah”. You always liked that name, it was simple and easy to remember. To your surprise it was La Croix guy who you were drooling about.

His voice found you as he got your attention. “Hi I’m Noah.” He greeted, while sitting next to you. You dranked him in. The black tailored pants, black shirt, tucked into his black dress pants with a belt, and button up.

He was 100% your type, and you were trying not to freak out. This was the something about him feeling you were getting again almost like you’re meant to be drawn to eachother.

“Y/n.” You smiled back at him as he mirrored your smile, before putting up the menu. Looking at it. He sneaked another glance at you shyly.

He put the menu down, nervously bouncing his leg. He wasn’t use to things like this or meeting new people and randomly inviting them out to dinner. “Thank Davis.”

“You DJ? You did a great job, looked like you knew what you were doing.” He picked up the wine in front of him sipping out of it.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Lily’s brother does it for a living and has a few gigs out here in Vegas.” You replied.

“He seems cool. I’ve never met him. We’re also here for a music gig too..” Noah nodded to himself while looking over the menu. He didn’t want to give too much away about his own life. But there was something about you.

“Yeah I have to leave here early, I got something I have to take care of. Maybe I’ll see you around if I don’t see you again the next day.” You shrugged not thinking much about the conversation.

Noah glanced over at you looking at how you were dressed and how different you were from your friend and her friends. Almost the complete opposite. He thought you were beautiful.

You bite your lip looking at all the entrees costing all around more than $100. It was kinda of conflicting for you. You were about to not order anything and maybe hit a fast food place by the club when Noah ordered for you.

“She’ll have the same as me.” He glanced over at you confirming with you, which you nodded agreeing to it. You didn’t know what he got and you weren’t a vegetarian so it should be okay.

“I can’t really afford-“ you mumbled feeling a little sick at the idea.

“It’s on me, and my friends. Don’t worry about it.” His hand pet your hair slightly moving it out of your face. You felt flustered at you shyed away. You haven’t been with someone in a little bit but your ex fiancé and since the engagement everything feels new to you again.

The food arrived fast. As you listened a little bit to Davis talk about the music stuff they do. You tuned in and out of it. Not knowing much or asking questions. They were a band apparently but you didn’t care to research.

You looked over at Noah he was finished his food. You softly whispered a “thank you” to him, before getting up to smoke and Irish goodbye.

You walked out announcing you were going to smoke, followed by the comments about smoking and how it was bad for you and all the stuff. You didn’t care much. It was for your nerves mainly.

You found a good little corner where no one was, a little ways away from the restaurant before taking one out and lighting it.

“I’ll take one too.”

The voice beside you asks. You didn’t recognize Noah for a second about to tell the stranger no. But you glance at him, he was looking at you grin in his face.

“Why?”

You asked. Making the smile disappear. You puffed out the smoke. They’re from Japan, I don’t have many of them. “They were giving to be by my ex fiancé when he went on a work trip there and cheated on me. There’s good though, they have a weird mint flavor to them.”You handed one to him. (“Here damn.”)

“I’m sorry he did that to you. Sounds like a shit guy.” He took your lighter before lighting it.

“He’s dead to me.” You replied to him like it was nothing before he had a chance to say a word, you asked him another question.

“Why are you out here with me?”

You took your cigarette putting it out on the ground. He did the same as you. “Just was curious, maybe a little nosey to what you had to go and do. That’s all…” he mumbled looking down feeling like he was imposing maybe.

You laughed a little. “It’s none of your business, and you and your band probably have some cool fancy shit to tonight, while I go back to my little private boring life. Going to DJ with my friend’s brother.”

Noah nodded at the idea of watching you DJ again before inviting himself. “Let’s go to the club.” He pulls you with him. You pull away.

“Why? I’m just going to make a fool of myself..”

Noah scoffed, before taking you with him. He watched you up there, and overheard Drew talking about the club he was going to, they were able to get a table at the night at the club a different night, at the same club you were headed to.

You both walked up to the bouncer. “Hi I’m y/n, I’m with Drew. The bouncer nodded granting you access. They stopped Noah.

“Who are you?” The deep voice made you freeze. You needed him to come with you or you were going to humble yourself in front of all these people.

“Oh that’s just my boyfriend, Drew told me I could bring him too.” You quickly made an excuse as to why he should come with you. The guy looked at you and then him before granting him access too.

“Thank god.” You whispered, Noah took your hand in his. You didn’t even know this guy that well to have any business stringing him along with you.

“Hey! Y/n, are you ready. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s R&B night, hope you can mix something good for us.” He greeted you before giving you access. Noah followed behind you too. He acknowledged him too patting his back.

“This your man too?” He asked, as you put the headphones on, you replied, “Just a friend Drew.” You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Don’t worry u won’t tell Lily.” He nodded before leaving you to it.

Noah found a popular R&B song starting it up, before adding some beats, and more bass to it. You found a song compatible to it that would compliment the beat well, before mixing it with him. The crowded liked it before going with it.

Drew came up to you guys with a bottle before opening it, and offering it to you both. A dry red wine. One of Noah’s favorites and you liked it too, deciding on sharing it straight out the bottle.

Noah thanked him, before take a swig out of it. It was just as he imagined the both of you. He over heard Drew mentioning about playing at this nightclub and when he saw you up there with him he connected the dots, especially at dinner. He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He watched as you smiled, while being so focused at finding the right tempo and beat to the song. It was enough to make people rock against each other on the floor. The things he would do to get to do that with you. Davis told him a little about you, after meeting you at the bar.

“She’s kind of similar to you, but girlie. Shes super kind, and her friend said she just got out of an engagement..”

Noah could hear Davis’s voice in his head. He spin the disc and few times before starting the flow of the last song. It was one of your favorite R&B songs. You obviously had to lock in. You decided beside him rocking your body. He watched and grinned to himself. You drank more out of the wine glass taking turns with him until it was empty. You both felt a little tipsy.

His arm reached over your yours brushing it slowly, turning a button. He whispered down in your ear.

“Do you want to get out of here, and hand it back to Drew?”

You were pretty tipsy and a little tired. Turning your head looking at Noah you admired all his facial features and how his hair was kind of in his eyes. He looked divine.

“Of course. We can go hangout on my balcony if you’d like.” You invited him, whiling taking the headphones off, as Drew came up taking them from you.

“Thank you, thank you. You guys were awesome, appreciate you. Hope to see you guys around soon.” As Drew spun the disc changing the music to something more upbeat and funky, making the crowd move.

Noah took your hand as you guys excited out of the nightclub to the strip. He waved down one of the portable self driving cars, as he took both of your back to the same hotel you guys were both staying at.

You rested against his shoulder in the car. He put his arm around you stabilizing you. He smelt good. Like a familiar men’s cologne that you couldn’t get enough of. You stared at his face for a little bit. He was lost in thought so he didn’t notice. You wanted to kiss him. Something about him made you want him. Maybe it was kindness or want to spend time with you. It wasn’t something you felt before, not even from your fiancé when you were engaged.

“Alright this is us.” He unbuckled the seat belt and yours. His hands brushed softly on the side on your thigh. It felt good, almost too good. You followed him out of the car as he took your hand in his leading you into the hotel to the elevator.

“Which floor?” He asked, as both of you were just in the elevator alone. He held you against him as he saw you were stumbling a little. His face was flustered from the alcohol and he was more smiley.

“Floor 12.” You answered, as he pressed it, pushing his head into your neck, taking in your scent. No one called or texted either of you which was surprising but you were sure everyone already suspected what was going on.

“You’re beautiful.” Noah mumbled against your skin, placing a kiss to your shoulder. It warmed your heart. The elevator doors opened as Noah took you with him by hand.

“Room 1245.” You stated as he nodded while humming a song in his head as you grabbed your room card while he waited for you.

He took the card from you sliding it before unlocking the cold dark hotel room. You could smell a fate trace of your perfume you sprayed on while you were getting ready for dinner.

Noah closed the door pressed you against it. You welcome him in your arms kissing him back. His tongue entered your mouth exploring and hungry for you. His hands roamed you once were on your waist now on your ass.

He pulled away to start sucking on your neck. The fate groan you let out was sinful to his ears. His fingers went to fabric of your dress before his mouth came to your ear asking you “can I take this off of you?”

You said yes. Wanting to feel him closer to your skin and on your skin. His fingers unzipped your mini black dress letting it pool to your feet leaving you in your panties and bra that didn’t match.

He kissing you more before setting you on the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt you fell to your knees going for his belt.

“Wait. Please I want to please you first.” He begged, almost weak in the knees to please you. He wanted you badly and of course he wanted to feel your mouth but he wanted to taste you more.

Of course you let him. He took off his shirt while he laid you down on the bed. He started at the top with your lips, kissing them a few times before moving down to your neck. He sucked lightly, not leaving a mark but he could if he really wanted to.

You moaned lightly at the feeling. He came to your bra before unhooking it gently taking it off of you. He wasted no time going straight to your rock hard nipples. His tongue ran over the harden peck, as your breathing began getting harder while the other hand would pitch and squeeze the other.

He kissed down to your panties lightly running his painted finger nails along them. The dim light you could see him as he smirked as he pulled your panties off watching your glistening cunt.

You were drenched for him. He barely even touched you and you were spilling out everywhere. He awed.

“Are you this wet for me?” He teased as his finger ran across your clit to your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling slightly but moaned in a reply.

“Y-yes. All for you.” You murmured, feeling the pat of his thumb circle your clit. He toyed with it for a little bit listening to the sounds you would make if he went fast or slow.

You looked now at his other hand. They were perfectly manicured a matte black. You were worried he would ruin them with how pretty they looked.

You felt his finger tips at your entrance but you stopped him. Make him look up at you thinking he did something wrong.

“N-noah, your nails. I don’t want ruin them..” he looked down at his hands and this back at your cunt. He smiled lightly to himself and snickered.

“They’re matte, but maybe I want a glossy shine to them.”

With that he kissed you as he slipped two long pretty fingers inside of you. You cried out at the stretch of his fingers. He did have pretty big hands. His fingers could reach places you didn’t think they could.

He got on the ground to his knees and immediately started sucking your clit, while his fingers moved in and out of you. Like he was chasing after something you.

“F-fuck. Right there. Omg.” Your head arched back as his fingers deep in you curled at the spongey stop inside of you.

Noah replaced his fingers with his tongue and started sucking you while his fingers were rubbing fast circles on your clit, making your legs close around his head. You could feel his unshaved face slightly against your cunt making you groan at the friction.

He could hear your moans getting louder as he went faster feeling you cry under him. You finally let go and released around him feeling him stop as he licked you clean, before coming back up.

He looked at his fingers under the dim light smirking to himself, while using his shirt to dry his face from your release.

After the world came back to you, got up and fall straight on your knees in front of him looking up like you wanted to return the favor. He nodded at you still catching his breath even though he knows you’re going to steal it.

You’re pretty good at sucking dick. It was your ex fiancés favorite thing about you. You didn’t have a gag reflex either so you could swallow him whole.

“You… have-e the prettiest pussy ever.” Noah said in between breaths as you worked him out his pants, unzipping them. You palm him as you watched his head tip back.

You unbuttoned his pants as he helped you pull them off, leaving him in his boxers. They were black, right, and had a huge bulge in them waiting for you.

You palm him again hearing him groan lightly. It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone, he was worried and a little nervous and wanted to do things right. You didn’t deserve to do this. A perverted thing for him, but at the same time his mind was finding him along with his groin.

Your finger tips dance along the top of his boxers, as his hands find your head making a loose ponytail holding it from your head. His thumb glazed your lips slightly as you took it in your mouth sucking on it, swirling your tongue.

Noah knew he was done for. Your mouth was the softest and wettest thing apart from your pussy that he’s felt in a while. He nodded at you to take them off as you silently asked him with your eyes.

You pulled them down, and he was the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. He was red and raw too, almost looking like it hurt. You gently took him in your hand feeling him twitch slightly. You lightly pumped him testing the water works.

His eyes were closed. Lip was biting so hard he could dry blood. The grip on your hair was a little tighter. He was trying to hold himself together and you haven’t even put him in your mouth yet.

“Do you want to use me?” You asked, taking your hand away from his cock. He let go of your hair looking at you a little confused.

“Use you? Why?”

“Not use me for sex silly. I mean, use my moan and control the pace maybe??” You mumbled feeling a little embarrassed like you might of killed the vibe. Although his eyes widened at what you meant.

He hasn’t done that in years. I m fact it felt wrong, but the eager look in your eyes said else wise. You wanted this as much as he did.

“Tap my thigh if it’s too much.”

He whispered, placing a kiss to your head before pulling your hair into a ponytail again moving your head closer to his cock. His dick was huge, you felt like you were going to have trouble with it. But if you were going choke on it in the end when you’d put it in later it’d probably feel even better.

You opened your mouth to welcome him into your soft lips. He was heavy on your tongue like you thought but he was soft and tasted a little salty but good. He started with a slow shallow thrust to test your limits. He keeps going a little more till he could put more in.

The moan he let out was something out of a porn video, it sounded like it hurt even thought it was the opposite.

“F-fuck. You’re so perfect.” He thrusted little by little, as he inched closer to the back of your throat. You encouraged him to fully put himself in though he was a little hesitant, you looked back up at him as he went deeper in to your throat feeling him touch the back as his tip caught a tight space in the back of it.

You moaned around him liking the feeling of it, eyes watering, as you listening to him as well, swearing while speeding up the pace.

He was going faster, your nose was pressed into his trimmed pelvis. He smelled good, like some type of body wash that went with his cologne.

“Shit, I’m going cum. Oh-fuck.” He cried out. As he came in your throat as you swallowed it. He felt gross for doing that without asking but you loved it. You would’ve wanted it that way anyway.

He pulled out being wiping the mascara and tears off your face. He pulled his boxers back on, pulling you into his arms as you both laid in bed together.

“You’re amazing, you know. Your fiancé didn’t deserve you. You’re a fun person, very to yourself in your own little world with your own little things, it’s very beautiful.” Noah confessed. He was falling in love with you even though he just met you. He wanted to know more about you. Anything.

*time skip*👹

——

You woke up sheets still around you. It was 3am Vegas time. You’ve only been asleep for and hour and half. Noah was eating some room service he ordered (and took care of bill wise.), while he waited for you to get up. He was sitting in silence, phone on the table you didn’t know what he was eating but you know it looked good. Of course he ordered you some too.

You sat up covers still bunched around you as you took the sheet while walking outside onto the balcony. You got his attention. You were so quiet he didn’t even know you got up. He placed the food on the beside because following you outside.

You were over looking the strip. Right under you guys were the pools you were in earlier. It looked peaceful out even with all the noise.

He held you from behind as you held his arms around you. He kissed your exposed shoulder that the sheet was slipping from.

Then feeling cheeky you whispered to him.

“I’ve always wanted to have sex on a balcony, do you want to?” You smirked slightly feeling frisky at the idea. Idea of someone seeing or getting caught. But you didn’t care, with him you couldn’t care what was going on in the world, it was like your own little world with him.

Noah bought his phone out with him he set it on the outside table by you guys. “We can do that. We have the sheet to cover us too.” He smiled at idea of it. You could feel his boner pressing into your back knowing he was picturing the idea.

He reached for your clit, rubbing it lightly as you bite your lip from moaning too loud. He tested your entrance to find you were wet, but leaned down to spit directly on your hole.

You gasped loudly at the feeling. Noah smirked himself at your reaction, but he lowered his boxers and slowly pushed himself inside. You gripped the balcony so tight your knuckles turned white.

“Such a pretty view, with a pretty girl, and a tight cunt.”

He whispered into your ear, as he felt you tighten around him as he said that. He pushed more inside you till he was fully in stretching you out more than ever. It felt heavenly, he was the biggest you’ve ever had. He felt the best too.

He let you breathe a few times and steadied himself too since you were gripping him tight. He pulled out a little and pushed back in slowly to test to see how you would react. Your head fall back slightly at the feeling of him.

He knew he was good to move after that. He was so deep in you, you could feel him in your stomach, he had both hands on your hips you felt his skin slap against you slightly as he thrusted a little more shallowly, more desperate. You mistakenly let out a loud moan.

—— pool pov

“What the fuck was that?” Folio questioned as he sipped the margarita that they got from the pool bar they got before getting into the hot tub. He stole Noah’s sparkly pink hat that said “less naggin more gaggin” Davis wanted to get gag gifts for everyone.

“Mmm someone is lucky tonight probably.” Jolly mumbled before picking up his phone deciding to call Noah instead of texting him again.

—-

The phone went off right as he was going faster. He had to put his hand over your mouth to stop you from crying so loud. The sheet that was once over the both of you down was draped over the balcony shielding both of you.

Noah picked it up. Your eyes widen as you realized he was going to keep going. He looked at you with a look that looked along the lines of “be quiet”

Noah: “hey what’s up?”

Jolly: “dude where you been you’ve been gone for so long, I thought you might’ve flown back home.”

Noah: “I-i went walking on the strip, shopped a little bit…” he breathed as he picked up the pace more as you groaned into his hand. “And now I’m back at the hotel.”

Jolly: yeah we’re back at the hotel. You weren’t in your room. We’re just wondering where you are.” There was a pause between the both of them. Noah was hoping he wouldn’t ask what he was doing he felt it coming.

Jolly: “are you out of breathe?” Folio turned his head towards jolly. So did Davis, and Nicholas. Now they were all wondering what was going on.

Noah thought if something quit off the top of his head that would make sense between him and Jolly.

Noah: “yeah, my anxiety was getting bad so I decided to stop-p, by at the gym and workout a little bit.” He breathed as he felt you get closer and tighten around him. He was going fast like skin on skin slapping hoping that jolly couldn’t hear on the other line.

Jolly: “ah that makes sense.” Jolly looked up at the rooms and saw you guys without realizing it was you. So did Folio in the moment. “Someone is getting some on the balcony dude, wish you could see this.”

You groaned at the words you heard slightly panicking only to have Noah hold you against him as he went so face you saw stars and he had to hold the phone away to moan in your ear.

Noah: “gross man, give them some privacy it is Vegas after all. Let them enjoy themselves.” He laughed a little. “I’m going to-o head up to MY room, and I’ll see you guys tomorrow I’m tired.”

Noah ended the call without another word throwing it down on the table. He could feel how close you are. Jolly put his phone down with a weird look on his face.

“What?” David asked, curious as to what is going on and where Noah is.

“He’s up to something but you know how he covers up for what he’s really doing.” Jolly laughed a little before going back to the margarita that Folio got him.

“Fuck I’m so close Noah.” You cried, as he held you against him. His hand sneaked down to your clit rubbing it to get you closer, while he watched view of the fountains from the balcony. It was a beautiful sight with you.

You couldn’t hold it anymore so you released around him. He felt it, and pumped himself a few times before releasing into you. You were on birth control so it didn’t matter in the moment. He took the sheet and put it around both of you before heading back in the room with you.

He laid you down in the bed. He was still out of breath, while going to get a wet rag to clean you with.

“Thank you. For everything.” You whispered to him, making him flush at your words. “Of course baby.” He hasn’t heard anyone appreciate him in a long time. He placed a kiss to your lips. It was news to him, and was new to him. You laid back down with him giving him your phone number as well.

“I won’t be here in the morning, I have to be at the festival for my gig.” You looked at him remembering he was in a band, and he tours. Things would be complicated between the two of you.

You sigh, disappointed to not have more time, but happy with the time you spent with him. “I can give you a ticket so you can come if you’d like?” He invited you. But you knew Lily had some plans for you and the girls and it just wouldn’t work out.

“I’m sorry Noah, we have stuff planned and paid for tomorrow. But you can call me whenever you like and I would love to see you more.” You reassured him, even as disappointed as you both were you didn’t have more time together it was worth all of it.

—- *8 months later*

“You have arrived in Germany, welcome.”

The speaker announced over you as you walk to the man who flew you out here to see him.

“Welcome to Germany baby.” Noah embraced you as you walked to the car waiting for both of you.

A/N: holy fucking shit, hello. Glad you’re still with me.🧍🏻‍♀️👹 hope you enjoyed. I’m going to Vegas next month and got this idea on a whim. Don’t forget to like and repost and maybe they’ll be a part 2 🫶🏻🩶

As you were laying in bed still cuddled up in vessels arms, everything felt overwhelming and all too much but you needed to get up. You needed to shower and get ready for the party that was happening later that night. Now your not really the biggest fan of parties 

You groaned and wiggled in vessels arms, but he pulled you closer “no.. stay in my arms baby” he whispered in your ear “Ves… I need to shower.. We have that party remember", all you get in response is him rolling so you're pinned under him, your wrists quickly up and held in place above your head with one of his hands. As you two make eye contact you squirm up a small bit, mainly due to the position you're in, he smirks knowing what he's doing to you, knowing it works you up. 

He lets out a low chuckle and gets off you before standing up. 

“Go shower now, we need to get ready for that party, remember?" you nod as you scramble to get up and head to the shower. 

After you shower and once you and vessel were both done getting ready, you head to the party venue. 

It was all going good, you were talking to people, vessel had a right yet not painful grip on around your waist, making sure everyone knew that you were his. 

“So vess? Want a beer?” III asked, holding out an extra one, the bottle already opened. Vessel shakes his head no.

“No thanks III, Im trynna quit” III nods as he takes a swig of his own beer before handing off the other bottle to II. 

You look over your shoulder at II as he calls your name, you twist in Vessel's grip so you're facing him. You see II pouring the beer into a glass before he pulls out a redbull and starts mixing the beer and redbull into one glass. 

“What” 

“Wanna come dance with me?”  

You looked up at vessel and gave you a look that says it's okay to go, he trusts II, he trusts I won't do anything weird or sexual to you. He also knows you and II are friends, you wouldn't even dream of you dating II since you only had eyes for him. 

Before you go to walk away you turn to vessel and grab his shirt, pulling him down and kissing him. The kiss is gentle at first, but quickly becomes rough and desperate. Vessel moves one hand to your hip and the other to your hair titling your head back so he can deepen the kiss. 

He pulls back and a string of saliva connects your bottom lip to his. 

“Go have fun and dance love” vessel whispers in your ear as he lets go of your hair and smooths it out. 

He gently slaps your ass making you giggle as you turn back around and walk over to II.

He links his arm with yours as you two move to the maina area of the venue, where there were a lot more people there all dancing and having a good time, laughing and giggling.

Vessel is sitting at a table, talking among some friends as you dance and talk to II, you try to focus on him and not the people surrounding you. 

You manage to focus on II for a while before you start to feel a tightness in your chest. You try to ignore it for a couple more moments before you just freeze. Hands letting go of II, your shaking and your breathing catching more before you run off without a word. You run into  the bathroom, the door slams behind you as you fall to the floor. 

Once your body hits the floor you throw your head back against the wall. Tears stream out of your eyes, all over your dress and hands as you grip your thighs roughly leaving small crescents on them. 

Meanwhile II just shrugs and goes back to talking with other people before he notices that you didn't return so he goes up to your boyfriend thinking maybe you ran back to him

.

“Hey is y/n not back with you yet?” he asked.

“No? I thought she was still with you” Vessel looked up from where he was sitting. His eye Barrows knit together in a confused and anger almost behind his eyes. 

“Yeah.. She was but then kinda just ran off” 

II looked down, worried for where you went, Vessel stood up as he sighed. 

“Okay go look at that area and I'll go look over here. Call me if you find her”

II nodded at Vessels worried command and ran off to go look for you. He was unsuccessful until he ran into IV. 

“Man, why are you running around like a chicken with your head cut off?” IV would ask as he planted a gentle hand on II's shoulder. 

“Lost y/n. Well more like she ran away, and Vess might just make me a chicken with my head cut off” he laughed nervously. Scratching the back of his neck. Worry is clear in his voice. 

“Oh dude she ran that way” Iv stated as he pointed to the bathrooms. 

“Thanks” was all IV heard before II ran off to the bathroom. 

He entered and froze in whole as he saw you. 

Hands tugging roughly at your hair, eyes and face red, eyes streaming waterfalls and you banging your head on the well. He was aware of your panic attacks. But never seen you have one this badly.

He assumed since your normally with Vessel he managed to calm you down before they got bad. 

“Hey y/n-”

“GO AWAY! GO AWAY!” was your only reply. To lost in your mind to calm down and bring yourself back to the real world. II sighed and left the bathroom, finding Vessel and telling him what he saw. 

II didn't even get half his words out before Vessel darted off to the bathroom. He walked in without knocking.  He quickly shuts and locks the door before going up to you. 

“Hey baby” he says softly, crouching down in front of you. You try to push him away but don't succeed since he quickly moves one hand to grab your wrists gently and holds it in your lap. 

“Let go of me!!” You cry out and hit your head on the wall again. 

“Not until you calm down” 

You hit your head again and try to free yourself but Vessel keeps his firm yet gentle grasp on your wrists before he stands up and pulls you back to your feet, before he quickly pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly and whispering soft things into your ear in hopes to calm you down. 

You managed to pull back from him after a few moments before falling back to the floor he lets go of your wrists and sits down beside you and gently pulls you into his lap.

He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you in place, his hands falling onto your thighs as he rests his head on your shoulder,  breathing softly. 

Your body tenses up at the touch and movement of him before you feel his hands on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over your hip bones.

“Baby deep breaths for me and focus on my voice baby” 

When Vessel notices how tense your body is as you let out a shaky breath as you listen to his voice. You listen to how deep yet soothing it is. 

He knew that even if you try to push him away and scream at him that holding you closely and physical contact will help sooth you. 

“Shh baby it's okay, just breathe with me ready?” 

You don't answer as tears and sobs become silent, the water still rolling down your face. 

“Deep breath in… and hold it” he whispers as he counts down from five to zero, he repeats this a few times until your breathing is no longer heavy and panicked. Until your chest goes up and falls down at a more normal pace. 

“There we go, good girl” 

You blush at the phrase but look down and grab a hold of Vessel's fingers and start to gently play with them. He lets you and you two sit in the bathroom for a while longer before you speak. He waited until you spoke first not wanting to pressure you into talking quite yet. 

“Thabk you” was all you could manage to whisper out. Your voice is soft and quiet. 

“Of course love, so do you want to tell me what caused this panic attack?” 

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder, your face tilting up.

“There was.. To many people.. I couldn't see you either and I felt like everyone was staring and judging me. It  was too loud and overwhelming.”

He nods understanding that, you having ADHD and anxiety along with other things it was hard for you to regulate your emotions. 

After a few more minutes of just sitting there so you could fully calm down he starts to kiss your neck gently, another way to help you. You let out a soft squeak and hold his fingers more firmly. 

He chuckles and moves his hands from yours and plants them on your thighs, due to your dress bunching up higher on you. He squeezes his nails a bit into your soft flesh as he leaves more wet kisses on your neck. 

“V-Vess-” 

“Hm? What's wrong, my love?” 

“I- what are you doing?” you asked, breathing hitching a bit as he bites into your sensitive neck. Trying to maintain composure. 

“Making you feel better”

“By making me horny?”

He nods and bits down again, earning a moan from you. One hand slides up your bunched dress and closer to your pussy.

“Vess- but” 

“Shh, I can stop if you want me to”

“No.. please dont.. But we are in a party bathroom”

“So? We fucked in worse places baby” 

Your face turns red, remembering all the other public spots you two have had intercosure in. you quickly pulled from that thought as you felt Vessel's index and middle finger slowly dance across your already wet pussy.

“Fuck your so wet I can feel you even throguh your underwear”

You whimper out again and start to rock your hips down onto his fingers. He lets out a low chuckle in your ear before moving your underwear to the side and slipping his fingers inside of you.

You moan at the feeling, loving his fingers inside you, your pussy clutches around him as he slowly pulls his fingers out before thrusting them back in.

His pace is slow at first, his free hand sliding under your dress to palm and play with your breasts, alternating between one to the other. His fingers pinch and twist your nipples a bit making you moan louder. 

His pace quickens, becoming more brutal and rough. You grab ahold of his wrist and moan his name loudly, loud enough other people could hear. 

“Shhh baby I dont want others to hear your sweet moans” you hear Vessel grunt and move his hand from your breasts to your mouth, covering it to muffle some of your noises. Although he loves the sounds you make and how loud you get, he didn't want to get kicked out of the party.

As he keeps his steady pace your pussy starts to confuse more, tightening around his fingers as your back arches off his chest. You moan loudly even though his hand. Your moans just get louder as you come closer to your release. 

Vessel removes his hand from your mouth not giving a damn any more as he keeps fingering you, he starts biting and leaving huskies all over your collar bone and neck. You're about to come before he stops, leaving his fingers inside of you.

“Why-”

“Beg for realse”

You whine at his words as his free hand moves to grip your throat, to choke you a bit. You moan as he cuts off your air way a bit.

“Vessel please..please I need to cum” 

“Beg harder”

“Vessel! Please. Please let me cover your fingers in ym cum. Please let me make your hand smell like my cum” 

He stays silent for a second, before ramming his fingers back into you roughly. He lets go of your neck a bit but keeps his hand wrapped around your throat. 

“Then fucking cum on my fingers, prinsece”

With his words and his fingers working magic inside of you, you let out a loud moan of his name as your cum coats his fingers. He waits for you to come down from your high a bit, by keeping his movements up, but softer and gentle this time. He lets go of your throat so he could lean down into you.

When he leans down he bites the sensitive spot on your neck and sucks roughly as he pulls his fingers out of you. You let go on his wrist and let out deep, sharp pants. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks off your arousal and cum, smiling down at you as you had turned on his lap to now be facing him. 

“Fuck, you taste so good”

You become red, even more than before as he leans down and kisses you. You're able to taste yourself in his mouth. You two kiss for a bit before you break it. Pulling back to look at him, eyes half lidded and hair messy. 

“Feel better?” 

“Fuck you” you roll your eyes at his dumb question, knowing he asked it to tease you a bit. 

“But yes.. I do feel better thanks.. For everything” 

His smile gets wider before he kisses you softly again. 

After the kiss he stands up, still holding you as he walks over to the sink and counter. He places you gently down on it as he grabs some paper towel, turning the tap on and damping it. 

He cleans you up before making you stand up on your feet to help fix your dress and hair. After cleaning up you two walk back out into the venue, people still talking  and dancing with each other, nobody seemed to notice you being gone, or you moaning so loudly the whole building could have heard you, but thanks to the amount of people and how loud the music was it was unlikely. 

It was an hour before the show and everyone was getting ready. I was in my dressing room putting on the black body paint and clothing on.

After I was done getting ready I left the dressing room area and went into the backstage area and was talking with some of the other band members until it was time to go on stage. I grabbed my guitar and headed out, getting into position and waiting for the first song to start.

As the song started and as the concert went on I waited for the right time to put my idea I had earlier into play, seeing as Vessel kept teasing me before we were on stage and he teased me as we were on the tour bus. I couldn't handle it any more, the teasing was making me horny and I needed to do something about it soon, and so I did, as vessel was sitting down singing and playing “fall for me” I went up to him and sat down on his lap, causing him to hitch his voice a bit and trying to keep it steady despite the fact he couldn't I chuckled and grinned on him a bit before getting up and continuing to play my guitar.

After the show and the teasing of us back and forth, he grabbed my waist as I was about to walk to my dressing room, he pulled me into his and closed and locked the door. He pushed me onto the sofa that was in the room as he climbed on top of me gripping my hair roughly and leaning down kissing me.

I moan softly and grip the back of his head to try and pull him closer.

He grinned down on me slightly making me moan and buck my hips trying to feel more, he did this a few times until I pushed him off and straddled his lap, gripping his shoulder softly and looking down. He chuckles and moves one hand to my hip and the other to my hair and softly pulling my head back, I moan softly and he leans towards me and kisses me deeply and roughly. I let out soft whimpers as I grind down on him and pretty much humping his thighs.

I do this till he removes the hand from my hair and moves me onto his dick. I let out a lewd moan and slowly started to ride him, he chuckles and groans gripping my hips and starts to move me up and down. Slowly at first then rougher and faster.

“Fuck your so good for me baby~” he groaned into my ear making me blush and hide my face in his chest.

“Your taking me so good baby~ ngh~ keep going like this and i'll cum in you slut”

I let out a needy moan in response and look up at him and kiss him as I start to moan loudly feeling my climax coming.

“Nghh~ c-close v-vess” I moan out and bounce myself roughly on him as he moves his face to be in contact with my neck and starts to bite it roughly.

“Cum for me baby~ cum on my dick like the cum slut you are baby~” with those words I do just that and cum all over him, I feel as his grip on my hips tighten and his thrusts become sloppy and harsh as he cums in me. The room is filled with loud and needy moans and groans, heavy pants and breathing.

Noah sat across from you at the dinner table in your apartment. Cleared plates sat between the two of you. A comfortable silence filled the air as you finished eating. He had barely been available the last few weeks, spending most of his time post-tour and pre-festival season in the studio. A relaxing night in was much overdue. Noah picked up the plates and walked them into the kitchen, scraping the remnants of dinner into the garbage before moving to the sink. Your phone lit up on the counter, buzzing as an alarm filled the screen. Noah turned off the water and picked up your phone, studying it with a furrowed brow.

“What’s ‘bc’?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, it's my alarm to take my birth control” you said, shuffling over to take your phone. You walked to your bag and pulled out the small blister packet. “I have to take it at the same time every day.”

“Oh, okay” he responded softly. He thought for a second. “Since when have you been on that?”

“Only 3 or 4 weeks” you replied, popping the pill in your mouth and washing it down, “I thought because, you know, things are getting a lot more serious between us, and with my new job and your music career exploding it might be good to be extra careful I guess”

Noah nodded quietly. “It doesn’t make you sick or anything does it? I know there can be a lot of side effe-” You cut his concerned rambling off, a soft smile on your lips.

“Noah, I'm fine. I did a lot of research and I feel great, if anything there's just added benefits.” you said, shrugging your shoulders alluringly.

“What do you mean?” he questioned. The concerned look had left his face and he spoke carefully, stepping towards you and placing his hands on your hips.

“Well, a more regular cycle, clearer skin,” you took a step closer to him and eyed him up and down with a sultry look, “...no condoms…. You can finish inside me.” You teasingly dragged a finger down his chest to the buckle of his belt, looking up into his deep brown eyes. “Have you ever done that before?”

“No.” he answered flatly. Noah’s eyes darkened and his expression was unreadable. He didn’t say a word, just picked you up over his shoulder, tattooed hand resting on your ass. You giggled as he walked to the bedroom and plopped you onto the bed with a light thud. He wasted no time, his hands roamed up and down your body toying at your breasts through your shirt. He kissed you feverishly and heat pooled low in your core. You shifted further onto the bed and he followed you. He reached behind his head and tugged his shirt off, leaving wisps of hair falling over his face. Your eyes raked down his tattooed body and you followed suit, slipping your shirt over your head. Noah cupped your face with one hand and pulled you towards him gently, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

“When were you gonna tell me, huh?” he asked, thumb gently brushing your bottom lip. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t even think about it I guess. I-”

“Mhmm” his hand slipped down to your throat, gripping gently and cutting off your rambling. “I could have been fucking you raw, feeling your warm wet pussy around my cock, and filling you up with my cum this whole time…and you didn’t think you should tell me?” His grip tightened slightly. Wetness pooled in your panties at his words and you let out a soft whimper. The anxious boy, always so vigilant and careful, was gone. You took back the upper hand, deciding to take a bold step.

“You wanna breed me, Noah?” You asked, fluttering your lashes innocently. He threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut, letting out a deep groan as his grip on your throat loosened. “Is that a yes baby?” you asked, raising your brows expectantly. He pressed his forehead to yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He breathed out a quiet yes.

“Then take me.”

He gently pushed you down to the bed and your head rested against the pillows. He desperately tugged at his belt, removing the rest of his clothes like you could have disappeared at any moment. You hooked your thumbs into your panties and stripped them off before Noah positioned himself over you. His hand cupped your heat and his fingertips gently dipped into your core. 

“So wet” he praised, “You like the thought of that? You want to be filled by me so badly, don’t you?”

You ground your clip against his palm to find some relief, whimpering out a soft yes in reply. He lined himself up at your entrance and a hint of hesitation shone in his eyes as he met yours. 

“.. you sure?” He asked.

“Yes. It's okay, I promise” You reassured him with a soft smile and brushed the strands of hair from his eyes. At that he thrusted into your dripping pussy, immediately cursing at the feeling of you around him. He had never felt you, or anyone, bare like this before. He settled into a euphoric pace, rolling his hips into yours, leaving you a moaning mess. You could feel every ridge, every vein heightening the sensations.

“Goddamnit you feel so fuckin good” he huffed through heavy pants “So wet and warm and tight.” Feeling him fully like this sent tingles up your spine. He pulled out and rolled you over, dragging your hips up so your ass met his hard length and your face laid flat on the mattress. He thrusted into you and gripped your hips hard. You rocked forward as his hips snapped into you repeatedly and you peered over your shoulder at Noah. His muscles flexed and sweat was beginning to bead across his forehead. Pleasure rippled across his face and every so often he stilled, gritting his teeth and wincing.

“You good back there?” you asked teasingly.

He replied, voice strained and gravely, “Yup, just don’t want this to be over too soon.”

You laughed at his restraint, cut off with a loud yelp as his palmed smacked against your ass.

“Laugh again and you’re not getting a single fucking drop.” He said firmly. Your pussy clenched around him at his demeanor and he gripped your hips in response. “Now get on your back and beg me to fill you.”

You were lost for words.You flipped around and settled into the mattress, spreading your thighs for him. The sight of him alone was devastating, his eyes were glazed over with lust, tattoos trailed over his toned chest, his rock hard length glistened with your wetness. A warmth spread through your chest at the thought of him taking you like this. The level of trust and intimacy, the submission of letting him claim you. Your heart raced with anticipation.

His forearms braced each side of your head as he held himself above you. You reached between your bodies and gripped his cock, teasing your entrance as you rubbed the tip up and down your folds. He pushed into you suddenly and stilled deep inside you. Your hands tangled in his hair.

“I said beg.” He growled through gritted teeth.

“Noah, fuck-” you sighed “Please I want it so bad”

“I’m not moving until you ask for it properly.”

“Noah, I want you to fill me with your cum.” You whined, sudden shyness overtaking you at the pure filth leaving your lips.

“Good girl, now ask me again.” He said with a conceited grin.

“Noah, please breed my pussy” you said coyly.

He captured your lips in an open mouth kiss as he finally fucked into you. Your body nearly shook with pleasure. Countless times with Noah and somehow this felt like the first, learning the feel of him inside you with no barrier and having him take you, desperately and passionately. He thrusted into you deep, knocking the breath from your lungs as you clung to him, thighs wrapped tightly around his waist.

“You take me so well baby. I’m gonna breed this pussy and you’ll take every last fuckin drop like a good girl, yeah?” He whispered against your lips. You moaned in response, grinding your hips for more friction. He bent one knee beside you to take you deeper and the feeling had you seeing stars. The pleasure was building rapidly in your core and you knew your release was close.

“You want me to put a fuckin baby in you?” he teased.

“Oh God, please” you mewled.

“God isn’t the one about to make you cum.” Noah spat as his pace quickened. 

“Noah” you cried as you fell apart around him. Your walls tightened over and over and his thrusts became messier as he chased his release. He watched your face as you moaned and begged for him to fill you, the pleasure still wracking through your body. He stilled and began to spill inside you. Your breath was stolen by the new sensation. A warmth spread within you and made you feel impossibly full. You could feel him pulsing inside you as he groaned deeply and buried his head in your neck. His hips jerked sporadically as he dragged out his orgasm, the most fucked out you’d ever seen him. He panted and a thin layer of sweat made his inked skin shine. He pushed himself up and knelt before you, slowly pulling out. His lips parted and you studied his face, pupils blown and eyes dazed. He watched as his tip slipped out of you with a subtle pop from the wetness, and his release seeped out of you slowly. You let out a playful giggle and began to close your thighs, his hands reached out to spread them again and his gaze never left your leaking, spent pussy. 

After a moment you carefully slid off the bed and stood up, his cum beginning to drip down your thighs. He watched you, enamored, as you grabbed your panties from the floor and slipped your shirt on,  then walked towards the door to clean up. You looked over your shoulder to see him still gawking.

“You okay?” you asked

“I uh- um, yeah” he stammered, meeting your eyes, “That was just... really fucking hot.”

You walked back over to him and stood between his thighs where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“First of many” you quipped, pecking him quickly on the lips before walking to the bathroom to clean up.

Noah fell back on the bed and ran his hands through his sweat-dampened hair, exhaling sharply. Without a doubt his mind was consumed with thoughts of the next time he could take you like that.

______________________________________________________

A/N: I think this is the filthiest thing I’ve written and I await my punishment from the heavens, but I hope you guys eat it up HAHA I had to get these thoughts out of my head. I have so much shit to do the next couple days so I wanted to post something before I have no time to write. I am so grateful for the love you guys have shown for my writing. It literally has me giggling and kicking my feet. As always feel free to chat with me or send me requests/questions/whatever!

XOXO Lila 🗡️

TAGLIST

I didn’t look up from my laptop when the front door slammed against the wall. The noise didn’t even make me flinch. Without even looking up from my laptop I knew who it was, and she always meant trouble.

“Absolutely not,” I said dryly.

Just a few seconds later, Margot appeared around the corner with her phone held high like she was in Willy Wonka when Charlie won the Golden Ticket.

“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”

I could hear the pout in her voice and rolled my eyes.

“You come in like that when you’re about to ruin my evening.”

Hayley scoffed as she made her way into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands.

“Your evenings always consist of tea, sweatpants, and murder documentaries. What’s there to ruin?”

“Those documentaries informative, thank you very much.”

Margot rolled her eyes. “They’re depressing is what they are.”

“They’re fascinating,” I argued!

“Zoey, they make you text us things like, ‘Don’t ever let me be called someone who lights up a room, that’s always the first sign someone is going to get murdered,’” Hayley said exasperatedly.

I finally looked up, unimpressed. “That’s just common sense.”

Margot shoved her phone in my face where an Instagram page was pulled up. It was a black and white photo that was making every attempt to come off as an aesthetic look with bright lights and a stage. Some band was displayed front and center, and it all looked sort of familiar but I couldn’t quite place.

“Concert. Friday. Bad Omens is in town. We already bought tickets.”

I blinked slowly and met their gazes.

“You bought tickets to something on a Friday before asking me?”

“We had faith we could convince you,” Hayley said.

I rolled my eyes and shut my laptop. “You thought you could manipulate me.”

“Correct,” Margot replied in a chipper tone. “Now we’ve reached the persuasion stage.”

I pushed her phone out of my face. “No.”

They both gasped dramatically.

“No?” Hayley repeated like the word itself offended her. “I…people our age are supposed to seek out excitement.”

“I like excitement! Just quietly and when it comes with my couch.”

Margot dropped onto the couch opposite me.

“You work all week and stay home all weekend, Zoey. The most exciting thing to happen to you recently was trying a new sourdough recipe.”

I gasped. “It was a s’mores loaf,” I defended.

Hayley wagged her finger at me.

“This.” She waved wildly. “This is exactly why we’re worried.”

“You guys are so dramatic.”

“You’re twenty-four acting like a retired grandma named Eunice. You’re one step away from knitting a scarf and adopting 15 cats.”

I narrowed my eyes at them.

“I don’t know, Eunice sounds like a wonderful woman.”

“Eunice falls asleep before 8 every night after playing canasta.”

“Living the dream.”

Margot groaned loudly and flopped dramatically to her back on the couch. “You never do anything spontaneous anymore.”

“I went to brunch with you last Sunday.”

“That was scheduled three weeks in advance.”

“And you brought a book,” Hayley added.

“In case conversation died.”

“Okay, Rory Gilmore,” Margot said with a snort.

I grabbed the cushion behind me and hurled it at her. Margot caught it against her chest with a laugh.

“Come on,” Margot changed her tactics to plead her case sincerely. “It’ll be fun. One night. You don’t even have to stay out late after.”

“That’s a lie,” I said immediately.

“Okay, maybe a small lie.” Margot pinched her fingers closely together to show how small her lie was.

I snorted despite myself, and the girls sat up excitedly.

“Oh my god, she’s cracking,” Hayley whispered.

“I’m not cracking.”

“You smiled.”

I really did smile.

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t even know enough of their songs to enjoy myself.”

“Yes, you do,” Margot argued. “You know all the popular ones.”

“Against my will.”

“And concerts are different,” Hayley said leaning in. “Even if you only know, like, two songs, the energy is insane. Everyone’s screaming and dancing and you’re basically having a spiritual experience with strangers.”

I looked at them in terror.

“That sounds horrifying.”

“It’s healing,” Margot corrected.

I laughed quietly.

Margot pointed at me excitedly.

“There. Right there. That’s the face of a girl who wants to say yes.”

“It’s the face of a girl being bullied in her own home.”

“Pleaaaaaaaaase,” Hayley said, clasping her hands dramatically. “Do it for friendship.”

“No.”

“For memories.”

“No.”

“For hot mysterious men who might be backstage.”

I paused and my interest piqued.

Margot lunged forward instantly. “Ah-Ha!”

“That pause was loud as hell,” Hayley agreed.

“There was no pause.”

“There was absolutely a pause,” Margot said. “You’re intrigued.”

I rolled my eyes again. “I am not intrigued by imaginary backstage men.”

“Not imaginary,” Hayley corrected. “Statistically there will be at least one emotionally unavailable guy with tattoos and excellent bone structure.”

“Which is exactly your type,” Margot added.

“I don’t have a type,” I muttered.

“You absolutely do. You like men who look like they’d ruin your life but might apologize politely afterward.”

I stared at them in horror for a second. “You two need hobbies.”

“You’re our hobby,” Hayley said happily.

“That explains a lot.”

Margot softened, nudging me with her elbow. “Come with us. Please? We miss fun Zoey.”

“I’m fun!”

Hayley muttered, “Debatable.”

Margot sat up quickly. “That’s it. You’re coming.”

“I didn’t say yes,” I protested.

“You didn’t say no this time either,” Hayley pointed out smugly.

I sighed, already regretting this. I pointed at them.

“If I go, we are not staying out until two in the morning.”

The silence that followed was loud.

“Margot…”

“We’ll see how the night goes.”

“No.”

“You’re so rigid for someone on the brink of major personal growth.”

I leaned forward. “I hate both of you.”

Margot screamed. “THAT’S A YES.”

“It is not-”

Hayley was already grabbing her phone and Margot was crowding her as they scrolled. “I call dibs on picking your outfit.”

I leaned back against the cushions and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I can dress myself.”

Margot giggled, briefly glancing at me.

“Respectfully,” she said not looking up from where she was huddled with Hayley. “History seems to suggests otherwise.”

I groaned as both of them fell into each other and laughed at my expense. I sighed as a small smile lit up my face, a tiny part of me was actually looking forward to this.

By the third song, I realized I had been so extremely wrong about how the night would go.

The bass pounded through the stadium, shaking the ground beneath me. It was heavy enough to rearrange my heartbeat. An insane light show was flashing across the room over thousands of screaming faces while Margot gripped my cheeks and shouted lyrics into my ear, like the band wasn’t performing right in front of us and doing it ten times better than her.

“ARE YOU HAVING FUN YET?”

I was laughing too hard to answer, which was answer enough.

By the fifth song, I started singing along to every chorus even though I barely knew the words. By the seventh, I stopped caring about what I looked like and started jumping around with the crowd while Hayley recorded blurry videos between us and the band, videos that I knew were destined to never be watched again, but that was okay.

Everything in the room felt loud and electric and had a strangely freeing vibe to it.

I didn’t have to worry about emails or deadlines. No looming projects or company politics to navigate. As soon as the music started thumping…it all melted away to music that vibrated through my bones. It provided me with the dizzy rush of being surrounded by people who all loved the same thing at the same time.

At one point Hayley grabbed my shoulders dramatically. “I need you to know this is the most personality you’ve shown in six months.”

“Oh my god,” I yelled back over the music, breathless. “Shut up.”

“No seriously, you look alive.”

I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t help but smile and shake my head.

I couldn’t deny it though, I did finally feel alive for the first time in…who knows. At the end of the concert, my throat hurt from singing and my feet ached in the best way. The arena lights brightened slowly as the final song ended. I watched as thousands of people immediately rushed toward the exits in chaotic wave, but I just stood there watching them go, as my body kept buzzing.

“That was insane,” Hayley said, still shouting even though the music had stopped.

“I told you!” Margot looped an arm through hers. “I knew it would be a spiritual experience.”

I laughed. “Okay, fine. It was fun.” I shrugged.

They froze dramatically and their mouths dropped open.

“Wait,” Hayley said. She cupped her hand around her ear. “Can everyone hear that? I swear my ears might be broken.”

Margot pressed a hand to her chest. “Was that Zoey admitting we were right?”

I bumped her with my shoulder playfully.

“Don’t ruin it.”

The rush of people from the crowd carried us at a snails pace out of the stadium and slowly toward the street outside. The cold air hit my flushed skin causing my bare arms to shiver.

Cars were everywhere outside the venue, backed up for miles and not moving an inch. Loud music spilled from their open windows. I watched as groups of people crowded around us on the sidewalks, yelling over the noise as they tried to figure out where to go next or what direction to go.

Margot stopped suddenly and her eyes lit up before she clapped once. “Okay. Drinks.”

I blinked slowly. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now!”

“There’s this bar like ten minutes away,” Hayley added. “Apparently, like, half the afterparty crowd goes there.”

I immediately shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” Margot groaned. “The night’s still young.”

“The night is over,” I corrected. “My social battery has flatlined. I want my sweatpants and my bed immediately.”

Hayley groaned. “You’re truly an eighty year old, Zo.”

“And proud.”

Hayley pulled her phone from her pocket. “Wait times are crazy right now anyway. It’ll probably take forever to get a ride home.”

“Exactly,” I said. “All the more reason for me to call one now.”

Margot narrowed her eyes at me. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

I thought longingly of the idea of my apartment. My skincare routine. Silence. Peace.

“Positive.”

Hayley sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

“I was fun for more than three consecutive hours. That’s enough growth for one evening.”

Margot laughed. “Okay, grandma. We’ll go without you.”

I saluted weakly. “Have fun making bad decisions.”

“That’s the plan.”

The girls gave me a quick hug and I watched them disappear back into the moving crowd, already debating shots and playlists and whether they could somehow get into an afterparty they absolutely weren’t invited to. Then I was alone and the immediate absence of them felt weirdly abrupt. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and went to the rideshare app.

Nearby drivers: unavailable. Estimated wait time: 58 minutes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I went to another.

Fifty-one minutes.

I watched as hundreds of people crowded the pickup zones while they were searching for their rides in the mayhem. Someone jostled me as they walked by. A group of guys nearby screamed the chorus of one last song like they had been on stage and a car horn broke through the noise with a piercing sound.

I let out a long breath. Nope. Absolutely not. I could not do this. I figured there had to be a better pickup spot somewhere away from the chaos. I pushed my shoulders back and pulled my jacket tighter around me before I stepped away from the venue and started walking.

My body relaxed as the noise faded behind me gradually with each block. When I got a few blocks away, the crowds thinned and I could breathe a little easier as it opened up. My body still pulsed from the arena, but here I started to feel removed from the night, like it was another world entirely.

As I stopped outside a brightly lit 7 Eleven, I checked the app again.

Wait time: 18 minutes.

“Oh thank god,” I muttered before stuffing my phone in my back pocket again. “Much better.”

I leaned against the brick wall and waited, wiggling my toes in my boots. The adrenaline from the concert was finally beginning to wear off, leaving behind warm exhaustion that was settling into my bones.

Worth it, though. Annoyingly worth it.

I wouldn’t tell the girls though.

I smiled a little to myself as I settled in and pulled my phone out again, scrolling to my photos app and pulling up blurry photos and videos from the night.

“You look way too happy to be standing alone in the middle of the city after midnight,” a male voice nearby said casually.

I startled and nearly dropped my phone. I looked around wildly before I spotted man standing a few feet away beneath the glow of a storefront. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a dark hoodie and his hoodie was pulled up tightly around his face. It could’ve been normal enough. Except it was easy to recognize him from the neck tattoos that were peeking out. My brain short circuited as I processed who was standing there.

It was Noah Sebastian. The lead singer oh the headlining band and owner of the voice that had spent the last three hours vibrating through my bones, with a voice that just lit my body on fire. He looked behind himself first, like he was checking whether anyone had followed him, before looking back at me and then he sighed.

“Ah,” he said flatly. “There it is.”

I blinked. “There what is?”

“The recognition.” He pointed vaguely at my face. “You’ve got the exact same expression as everyone else.”

I tried to school my face and shrugged. “I think my expression is pretty reasonable considering you were just onstage in front of twenty thousand people.”

“Technically twenty three.”

I let out a small laugh. “That’s somehow worse.”

A grin tugged at his mouth.

“So…” he started. “You know who I am.” I rolled my eyes. “But who are you?”

I tilted my head and stared at him, before I said, “Zoey.”

“Zoey,” he repeated, my name rolling off his tongue smoothly.

Up close, he was even more unfairly attractive than he had been under the stage lights. He was much taller than I expected too. I could see the exhaustion weighing him down, though. He had shadows beneath his eyes and his damp hair peeked from the hood of his sweatshirt.

“You’re really bad at sneaking around,” I informed him.

“I know,” he muttered. “I underestimated how many people linger outside after shows.”

“So what are you doing over here?”

“Hiding from fans.”

I looked around the nearly empty street.

“Well.” I shrugged. “You did a great job of hiding.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes flickered down toward the phone I held tightly. “You waiting for someone?”

“An Uber.”

“At midnight?”

I laughed. “…That’s usually how Ubers work.”

He ignored me. “Where are your friends?”

“Who said I came with friends?” He just looked at me and I shrugged. “They abandoned me for alcohol and poor decisions.”

“Nice.”

“They seemed excited about it.”

Noah frowned slightly when I glanced back at my phone for an update on my ride.

“How long?”

“Twelve minutes.”

“Twelve?” His eyebrows lifted. “You’re going to be standing out here alone for twelve minutes?”

“Yes?” I asked slowly.

“No.”

I blinked twice. “No?”

“No,” he repeated. “That’s dangerous.”

I actually laughed.

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

“I’m very serious.”

He stepped closer.

“You’re literally a stranger.”

“Exactly,” he said immediately as he gestured around us, like that proved his point.

I just stared at him.

“You do hear how insane you sound, right?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he shrugged, his hands moving to his hoodie pockets. “Probably.”

“You’re warning me about strange men while being a strange man...”

“Difference is I’m a familiar strange man. Arguably even a famous strange man.”

“That is not a real thing.”

“It should be.”

I shook my head and fought back a smile.

“You know statistically speaking,” I said, “you’re significantly more dangerous than the average person.”

“Ouch.” His hands went to his chest mockingly.

“You could absolutely murder me.”

“I could,” he admitted softly. “But I won’t.”

“Very comforting.”

He leaned casually against the wall, close enough now that I caught traces of soap and sweat and an expensive cologne that blended into the crisp, chilly night air.

“Well,” he said, “Good news for you. I’m staying here until your ride gets here.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I already decided I am.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Usually only when pretty women are standing alone in sketchy side streets after midnight.”

I ignored the compliment. “This isn’t sketchy.”

A second passed. Somewhere in the distance glass shattered followed by someone yelling incoherently. Noah looked pointedly at me.

“…Okay,” I admitted. “Slightly sketchy.”

“Thank you.”

I should’ve been uncomfortable. There was a stranger lingering with me at night and after all the murder documentaries I watched, it should’ve set off alarm bells. Instead, weirdly, I felt calmer. Maybe it was because he looked more tired than threatening or because he wasn’t performing anymore. There was no stage persona, no confidence enhanced by the spotlight. Here in the dead of night, he was just a guy in a hoodie leaning against a brick wall while trying not to get recognized.

Or maybe I was calm because every time someone walked too close, he subtly shifted closer to me like it was instinct to reach for me.

“Do you always rescue random women outside your concerts?” I asked.

“No. Usually my security handles it.”

“Oh, so this is beneath you?”

“Deeply.”

I threw my head back and let out a loud laugh before I could stop myself. Noah glanced at me sideways and smiled like he was happy with the feat.

“You had fun tonight,” he said. He didn’t say it like it was a question.

I looked down at my phone shyly. “I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Mhmmmm.”

“My friends forced me to come.”

“And yet,” he said lightly, “you knew every chorus.”

“I knew some choruses.”

“You were singing pretty confidently for ‘some.’”

I felt my cheeks heat and my body tense.

“Oh my god,” I muttered in horror. “You could see people from up there?”

“Not really.” His grin widened. “But now I’m deciding you were aggressively singing all of my songs.”

I groaned “This is humiliating.”

“I think it’s cute.”

The word landed heavier in the air around us than it should have. I looked away first. This was dangerous but not in a physical way. It was dangerous in the way it made me feel.  My phone buzzed suddenly with the alert that the driver was arriving in two minutes.

I straightened slightly. “Well, it looks like your shift as neighborhood watch is over.”

“How tragic.” Noah grinned.

Moments later, headlights rounded the corner and the rideshare sticker glowed faintly in the windshield. I stepped forward automatically as the relief hit me at the thought of my warm bed and sweatpants. A nice hot shower followed by silence. It was going to be perfect.

The car pulled to the curb, and I reached for the door handle and opened it. I stopped when Noah cleared his throat.

“Or…”

I turned.

He was watching me with entirely too much confidence for a man standing in a dark hoodie on a random sidewalk outside of a convenience store.

“Or?” I repeated carefully.

He lifted his shoulder.

“You could come back to my hotel instead.”

He was being so straightforward, it was coming across as cocky. Like he already knew the answer. Maybe like he did this all the time.

I stared at him.

“You cannot actually say things like that to women.”

Noah shrugged. “It seems like I just did.”

I scoffed. “That’s insane behavior.”

“You’re thinking about it.” He quirked a brow at me.

I groaned because unfortunately, he was right. He stepped closer to me, not enough to crowd me or cause panic to rise, but just enough that I could feel the heat of him against the cold night air.

“No expectations,” he said, voice lower now. “You can say no. Get in the car, go home and never see me again.”

The driver glanced impatiently at us

I should leave. Objectively, absolutely, unquestionably leave. This is a stupid idea to entertain.

Instead, I surprised myself and asked, “Do you always invite strangers back to your hotel?”

Noah’s mouth deviously curled.

“Only the ones who almost didn’t come to the concert.”

God. That stupidly charming answer made me weak. I laughed under my breath at myself. Then with a sudden burst of confidence, before I could think too hard about it, I pushed the car door shut.

The driver rolled down his window immediately and grunted. “You getting in or what?”

Every murder documentary I’d ever watched was practically screaming at me right now for my actions. This was textbook getting murdered decision making. It was the kind of choice that got your driver’s license photo flashing across a Netflix screen while a detective said, “She trusted the wrong person.”

But honestly? Margot and Hayley already thought I was one blanket away from becoming a full time retirement home resident. And Noah was standing there in front of me, looking so unfairly hot. I looked at it like I had the chance to do something wildly out of character for once in my painfully organized life.

“Nope,” I said breathlessly as I watched Noah lick his lips.

I turned back toward Noah instead.

The elevator doors closed with a quiet ding and Noah leaned his back against the wall of the car. I stood across from him with my arms crossed at my hips, trying my damnedest to pretend I wasn’t staring at his mouth every chance I got.

“Do you always invite strangers back to your hotel,” I finally asked, “or should I feel special?”

Noah’s mouth lifted at the corners, and he seemed to relax further into the wall. “This you fishing for validation?”

I rolled my eyes, avoiding his gaze. “I’m fishing for honesty.”

He pushed off the wall, casually stepping closer to me, just far enough away to not touch me, but enough to capture my attention. With Noah so close, it made the elevator somehow seem smaller now and I felt the temperature increase. Whatever cologne he was wearing was sharp and added to the warmth surrounding us and I was amazed that I could still smell it under the fading smoke and sweat from the venue. It was bold and added to the energy in the elevator, the spicy notes of it made my stomach tighten.

Noah inched closer to me and his eyes darted to my lips before going back to my eyes. His hand softly brushed against mine, just barely that I thought I imagined it and the contact made me blush.

“Honestly, Zoey? You looked completely unimpressed when I saw you tonight.”

I tried to stay calm, even though with him so close my pulse jumped. I tried to go for casual with my next words.

“You know, for someone who was worshipped by twenty something thousand people tonight, you’re not nearly as charming offstage as you think you are.”

Noah let out a loud laugh and took a step back, but not before his eyes scanned me from head to toe, stopping briefly at my chest that had started to move faster with my pulse.

“And yet, you still came back to my hotel with me,” he pointed out softly.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re surprisingly annoying in person,” I muttered.

“You’re the one trying really hard not to look at me like you want me,” Noah said casually, leaning back against the wall and crossing his legs at his ankle.

My breath caught briefly and Noah definitely noticed. He gave me a quiet grin that was missing the cockiness from early, but the danger behind it was thick.

I cocked my head and stepped closer to him. “You’re flirting with me like someone who’s never been told ‘no’.”

His eyes darkened and his attention became sharp as he leaned forward to grasp my hips strongly. The heat of his hands was electric. “Maybe I just haven’t heard you say it yet.”

The silence was thick enough to choke on, but I couldn’t look away from him. When the elevator stuttered gently as it slowed to his floor, my hands gripped his biceps at the movement. The air was thick and heady around us, the kind that made every look linger a little too long and every joke started to sound like foreplay. Noah’s thumbs found their way under my shirt, and he ran the calloused pads of them against my skin slowly and deliberately, causing me to shiver and the air thickened. I felt like at any second, I was one breath away from losing every ounce of my control.

We didn’t say anything, we just stood there staring at each other as our breaths washed over us, just close enough that I felt like if I moved one inch forward, I would ruin the little bit of fragile restraint I still had left.

We barely made it out of the elevator without an indecent exposure charge. In the hallway, our lips met in a rush of lips and heat and Noah pushed me roughly against the wall next to his door, the bite of his hips pressing into mine making me moan softly. Noah softly laughed.

Noah struggled with the key for the door as I pushed myself closer to him, rubbing my lower half  against his pelvis and he groaned before finally pushing it open. He pushed the door open and pulled me inside behind him, before letting it slam behind us. Noah was ripping my clothes from my body quickly, his lips exploring every inch of my skin with every piece that disappeared. I fought with his belt as I tried to remove his pants, his mouth distracting me before I finally got them off. Instead of carefully unbuttoning his shirt, Noah just slid it over his shoulders and tossed it aside.

I sunk to my knees and looked up at Noah from under my eyelashes, and the heat there spurred me on. I slipped his boxers off his hips and he kicked them away. I darted my tongue out to lick the seam of his tip and Noah, not expecting it, nearly fell forward before using my hair to hold himself up. He tugged tightly, causing me to moan as I wrapped my lips around his tip and hollowed out my cheeks.

Noah groaned before he bucked his hips forward, hitting the back of my throat and causing me to gag in shock. I looked up from the ground and saw him smirking at me. It was hot, but I was stubborn. I wrapped my hand around his base and started stroking him in time with my mouth. I cupped my breast and tweaked my nipple, causing me to gasp and Noah to sink further into my throat, before trailing my fingers down to my clit where I circled it carefully several times. My fingers played with the mess I was making. Noah bucked into me rougher and I fought a smirk around his girth.

With my slick on my finger, I moved to cup his balls with the hand that wasn’t pumping him. I used the finger that held my desire to graze his perineum and the sound Noah made was obscene.

Tears were streaming down my face as Noah fucked my throat and I took it, groaning around his cock as he hit the back of my throat. I swallowed, taking him further down my throat which caused Noah to gasp and nearly fall over me. He tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my mouth from his cock. He looked down at me dazedly, his thumbs swiping away the tears that had spilled.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly. “That felt so fucking good.” He pushed some fallen hair behind my ear and I looked away, embarrassed by his praise. “Don’t hide from me, not when your mouth feels that fucking good.”

I blushed but reached up to bring his mouth to mine and he kissed me back with fervor, ignoring the fact that I had just had him in my mouth, though he hadn’t finished.

Noah pulled away from me on a groan.

“I can’t wait to taste every inch of your body until I know your body better than you do,” Noah groaned as I cupped his balls and gave a gentle squeeze, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head.

The pad of his fingers trailed down my neck and over my collarbone. I gasped and Noah smirked at the goosebumps that bloomed across my skin. Noah’s hand trailed back up and he gripped my neck, causing me to gasp and my breath to catch painfully in the back of my throat. He smirked at how breathless I was.

“Oh, I see. You like how my hand feels around your neck, hmmm? Such a predictable slut,” Noah groaned as his tongue darted out and swiped the seam of my lips as he squeezed a little rougher.

Normally I’d rage the moment a man said those words to me, but when Noah did…I felt like I was floating. He started experimenting with pressure, switching the way he held my neck in his hands just to see which movement would make me arch into his touch more.

Noah used his tongue to trace down my throat while his free hand slid between my legs. I felt my core flutter against his palm.

“What d’ya need, baby? My fingers? How about my tongue?” Noah lightly ran the back of his palm up my thighs, the rough feel of his knuckles electrifying my skin, and he brushed them right over my panty covered core. “Been wanting this, you, all night.” He groaned. “Bet you can’t stop thinking about how my mouth would feel right here?” His finger brushed the damp spot on my underwear. “C’mon, beg for it.” Noah groaned as I sought out friction from his body, whimpering at not finding relief.

His fingers dip beneath the fabric, finally sinking his fingers inside of me and I arched into his touch. I gasped as he settled his fingers inside my heated core.

“You’re so tight and responsive.” He groaned. “You’re stretching so pretty for me. This what you wanted, this how you like it?” His thumb found my clit and began to rub slow circles as I started to near my breaking point. But Noah didn’t let me chase it, instead he abruptly stopped and pulled his fingers from me, causing me to whine in protest.

Noah smirked as he carefully placed his hands on my hips and guided me backward to the bed, my knees hitting the edge and he carefully laid me down before he crawled over me, his hips pinning mine to the bed. I could feel his hardened cock graze my clit, causing me to whimper.

“I can see it in your eyes, you’re feeling too much, aren’t you?” He mocked me. I whined and tried to arch my hips into him, needing some sort of friction to find relief.

I cried out as Noah sunk into me, my legs falling open as the pain from him stretching me settled in and had me aching desperately. I tossed my head back, my eyes closed, as sounds I had never made before escaped me as the sounds of our pleasure filled the room.

“I bet you didn’t know you could make that sound.” I could hear the cockiness in his tone as his hips snapped against mine, pushing me further and further into the hotel sheets.

My eyes fluttered shut and my breathing grew ragged. My core tightened around Noah’s length and I held him there, my legs trembling as my core clenched with every stroke.

Noah gazed down at me and groaned, “God, you’re loving this, aren’t you?”

I didn’t say anything, knowing he didn’t actually expect a response.

“You’re desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

I cried out as his tip slipped over the bundle of nerves on my inner walls, squeezing him tightly as my legs wrapped around his hips tighter and I pulled him closer, our sweat causing us to stick but neither of us cared.

Desperate sounds escaped me as Noah continued to fuck into me, the pain of each stroke morphing into pleasure that had the edges of my vision blurring. I was frantic, desperate for relief and somehow, I knew it could only come from Noah.

Noah knew exactly what he was doing, how to wring every ounce of pleasure from me, as his strokes continued evenly, sometimes slowing down enough to tease me but never enough to lose momentum. My pleasure was soaking the sheets below, and I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Please,” I cried out. “Please Noah.” I was desperate, chasing relief from Noah. I reached for him, trying to find purchase on his shoulders.

He groaned. “Please what?” Noah used one hand to remove my hands and pinned them above me, stretching my body further. He leaned on the forearm of his other, holding himself off me just enough.

“I need to cum,” I cried out.

Noah said nothing, just rutted into me deeper and harder. The pain adding to the pleasure each time. He reached down between us after releasing my hands and laid his palm flat against my stomach before using the pad of his thumb to circle my clit at the same time he applied pressure, causing his tip to painfully brush against my walls. It felt so good, my cries grew louder and it just encouraged him further before we both exploded, stars dancing behind my eyes.

Noah collapsed on top of me, burying his nose in my neck as he caught his breath. When he pulled away, he looked down at me carefully before reaching out to swipe some fallen tears from my cheeks.

“Don’t hide,” he muttered when I tried to turn away. He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing my attention on him. Noah just stared and it was unnerving, before he leaned down and softly kissed my nose as he carefully pulled out.

I whimpered at the loss of him, which caused another smirk to dance across his face. I rolled my eyes and threw the pillow from behind me at him.

Noah stood at the end of the bed, staring at me in quiet observation. I tilted my head, ready to ask him what had his attention, before he spoke up.

“So…room service?”

I giggled and nodded my head.

The first thing I noticed when waking up was the silence. The second thing I noticed was that Noah’s side of the bed was empty.

Not recently empty either.

The sheets were cold and the pillow was missing an impression of his body having been there. There was no mysterious man lingering dramatically by the window like there would have been in the movies. He was just…gone and I was alone, the sheet pulled up to my chin. I squinted against the sunlight spearing through the ridiculously expensive curtains and groaned into the pillow.

“Oh, cool,” I muttered to myself as I started cataloging where all my clothes had ended up. “Love that.”

For one deeply humiliating second, I actually looked around the suite like he might magically appear, maybe carrying coffee or something. There was Nothing. No note. No text. No number. Not even a stupid scribbled had fun last night :) on hotel stationery.

I scoffed and I sat up slowly and clutched the sheet tighter to me as memories from last night came back in sharp, dangerous flashes.

The brush of his lips as he laughed against my neck. Most importantly, the absolutely criminal things he’d whispered in my ear in the middle of the night as he took me for the second and third times.

And then apparently… Poof. He was gone. I stared around the empty room in disbelief.

“Wow,” I said aloud. “Men really do think they’re Godly after one mildly good hookup.”

At least he didn’t murder me. I guess he got points for that, technically. My phone sat charging on the nightstand and I rushed for it. No messages. Not from Noah anyway.

Margot: ARE YOU ALIVE???

Hayley: Did grandma make it home safe???

Margot: We met a man named Bullet. Still unsure if that was his real name.

I snorted despite myself before tossing the phone back down.

Okay.

Fine.

Whatever.

It wasn’t like I had expected some grand romance, I wasn’t insane or delusional. Last night had been impulsive and hot and…absolutely nowhere near my normal behavior.

But leaving without a word?

That was irritating on principle.

Like, congratulations on being hot and mysterious, Noah. Revolutionary concept. Very original of you.

I climbed out of bed, immediately regretting every life choice as soreness hit muscles I had never known existed.

“Oh my god,” I hissed.

Worth it. I groaned. Annoyingly worth it.

I spotted my jeans draped across the floor near the couch and marched over to grab it with as much dignity as someone wearing yesterday’s makeup and no bra could muster. I scanned the room for my underwear and found them under the bed. Next, I found my top near the bathroom.

I shook my head.

The hotel suite itself was obnoxiously beautiful too, which somehow made everything worse.

I narrowed my eyes at the skyline outside the floor to ceiling windows.

“Hope your tour bus explodes,” I muttered and then paused.

Not literally.

Just, like…maybe a flat tire.

I slowly put my clothes on, and something caught my eye near the table by the door.

I paused. It was a room service receipt. After a beat, I immediately lunged for it with entirely too much hope.

It was blank. Just a simple signature. No number. No message. No “call me.”

Not even a smiley face.

I started at it before I laughed once in disbelief.

“Actually incredible,” I said. “What a level of male audacity that future generations will study academically.”

By the time I left the hotel room twenty minutes later, the irritation was simmering nicely beneath my bone deep exhaustion. I had fully decided Noah Sebastian was deeply annoying.

Hot? Unfortunately.

Talented? Against my will.

Good in bed? Extremely.

But now I found him annoying enough that I would absolutely pretend not to care if I ever saw him again.

Which she probably wouldn’t. And honestly? Good. Fantastic, even. I definitely did not need to spend another second thinking about the cocky lead singer who picked me up on a sidewalk and disappeared before sunrise like he was legally obligated to avoid emotional attachment.

By noon, I was still irritated. Not a normal irritated either, but a very specific type of irritated. The kind that sat sharp and twitchy under my skin while I cleaned the kitchen for absolutely no reason other than to get rid of this restless feeling. Noah had left sometime before sunrise without a single word, and somehow that fact kept replaying in my head like it was a personal attack.

Not because I cared. Obviously.

It was the principle.

If you were going to fuck someone’s back out of alignment and then disappear into the night, the least you could do was leave a note. There were standards in society, after all. Noah leaving without so much as a goodbye was irritating me in a way that felt deeply wrong when I technically only knew him for a few hours, which was it’s own kind of annoying.

It wasn’t like I had wanted emotional attachment, but an ounce of basic human decency would have been nice. Something other than disappearing into the early hours of the morning while I was zonked out in his bed.

I was angrily reorganizing my coffee pods for the second time when a pounding on my door interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Margot yelled from outside. “Open up.”

I sighed. I was too tired for this.

I yanked the door open.

Hayley took one look at me and burst out laughing.

“WOW,” she was doubled over in laughter, her hands on her knees.

I rolled my eyes. I was wearing leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and sunglasses despite being indoors.

Margot gasped dramatically. “She looks exactly how I imagine Victorian women looked before dying of tuberculosis.”

“I’m alive,” I muttered, already walking away and back toward the kitchen.

“Barely,” Hayley snorted before shutting the door.

“Good morning to you, too.” I rolled my eyes.

The two of them had the chaotic energy of people who had barely slept the night before but accessorized with iced coffees in hand. Margot handed me one.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

Hayley collapsed onto the couch face first. “I’m never drinking again.”

Margot followed immediately after, flopping onto her back dramatically. “Liar.”

“Correct.”

I leaned against the counter suspiciously. “Why are you both here?”

“To debrief you.”

“To discuss the tragedy of you abandoning us,” Margot added.

I took a slow sip of coffee. “I seem to remember being abandoned first.”

“You wanted to go home.”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Like a responsible adult.”

“Boooo,” Hayley groaned into the cushion.

Margot barely sat up and pointed accusingly at me. “You missed so much.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.”

“We ended up at this rooftop bar with, like, thirty people from the concert.”

I hummed disinterested.

“And apparently,” Hayley continued dramatically, sitting up now, “the band sometimes goes there afterward.”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

Margot narrowed her eyes instantly. “Why did you react like that?”

I coughed once. “Wrong pipe.”

“Mhmmmm.”

Hayley started spiraling before she even launched into her story. “We were there for HOURS, ZOEY. HOURS. And nothing.”

“Devastating.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” I said sweetly, “still the only one here without a hangover.”

“Worth it,” Hayley muttered.

“We stayed there forever hoping we’d run into somebody.”. Especially Noah,” Margot sighed. “God, that man is so criminally  attractive.”

I took another careful sip of coffee and stared at the wall.

“He really is,” Hayley agreed solemnly. “Like weirdly attractive. It makes me so angry.”

You have no idea, I thought bitterly. I couldn’t look at them in fear of caving.

Margot groaned dramatically. “Can you imagine hooking up with someone like that?”

Now the coffee almost went up my nose.

Hayley squinted at me. “Why do you keep malfunctioning?”

“Because you guys are weird.”

Margot smirked suddenly. “Oh my god. Wait.”

I froze.

“You met someone last night,” she accused.

“No, I didn’t.”

“That was too fast,” Hayley said immediately.

“Suspiciously fast,” Margot agreed as they looked at each other.

I rolled my eyes. “You two think every man who says hello to me is my soulmate.”

“Not a soulmate,” Hayley corrected. “Just a temporary bad decision.”

I snorted despite myself and turned toward the kitchen before either of them could study my face too long.

Because unfortunately…Thinking about Noah still came with flashes of his hands and our mouths meeting with low and lazy grins that were deeply unhelpful against my current rage.

I could still feel his hands gripping my waist, the bruises still there as a reminder. When it was quiet just long enough, I could still hear his stupid cocky voice whispering obscenities in my ear. But most of all…I could still remember waking up alone in a hotel bed.

The irritation flared up inside my chest fresh and hot.

Men truly had the communications skills of houseplants.

I refused to give him even one ounce of emotional satisfaction. Absolutely not. That man did not deserve my acknowledgment.

“Seriously though,” Margot continued, oblivious, “We were convinced we’d run into at least one of the bands.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I almost laughed.

“Oh?” I asked carefully.

“Yes,” Hayley groaned. “But no. Apparently all famous people vanish into the underground after concerts.”

I stared into the coffee cup, thinking that if I told them the truth right now they might actually explode. Margot would scream for sure and Hayley would probably pass out. Neither of them would ever let me live it down.

Or worse…they’d romanticize it. There was nothing romantic about waking up alone in a hotel suite after a man vanished like he was emotionally constipated.

So instead, I shrugged casually and said, “Maybe they just didn’t want to hang out with drunk strangers.”

“That’s rude,” Margot replied immediately.

“Accurate,” I countered.

Hayley pointed at me suddenly. “See, this is why nothing exciting ever happens to you. Your energy is too practical.”

I nearly smiled into my coffee. There was something deeply satisfying about sitting with them and letting them think I’d spent the night at home, alone, in fuzzy socks watching crime documentaries, all while secretly knowing I’d actually spent it tangled up in expensive hotel sheets with the one musician they’d spent hours hoping to meet the night before.

Too bad he was annoying enough to ruin the victory a little. It was also embarrassing to admit that I had been a little hurt by him sneaking out like a ghost in the night.

My body hurt in places that I refused to think about, and the irritation rand incredibly hot over a man I never intended to see again.

Margot sighed dramatically. “One day we’re going to drag you out and something exciting will finally happen to you.”

I smiled slowly before biting the inside of my cheek to hide it.

“If only you knew,” I muttered, but they didn’t hear me.

________________________________________________________________

The stale smell of the port filled your nostrils making your stomach twist in disgust. You could hear the distinct screech of seagulls which were flying above the gigantic cruise ship docked at the pier. 

“MSC Sinfonia” was painted in a navy blue color on its bow. 

“What’s it called again?” you said to Chloe, pointing at the letters. 

“It’s the name of the ship” she quipped “it’s italian for symphony. Isn’t that poetic?” a grin plastered on her face. 

“Oh yeah, greeeat” you retorted dripping with sarcasm. Your forced smile morphing into a frown. 

“Oh c’mon Y/N It’ll be amazing! We get two whole weeks for ourselves, to relax, to unwind and maybe, who knows? We get to pick your date for Sarah’s wedding” Emma winked at you. 

“I’d like to point out that I had to get quite a hefty chunk of time off work and my boss wasn’t exactly pleased” you answered “Besides, we’re the ones who lower the average age of our “fellow passengers”, who am I supposed to bring to the wedding? My sugar daddy?” 

Your three friends erupted into a loud laughter. Your statement wasn’t exactly false. Sarah booked your trip with a company far too expensive for your age-group and off-season. 

So there you were, in line with a bunch of 75 year olds, compression socks and all, waiting for your check - in under the midday sun. 

The four of you have been best friends since middle school. You’ve always been a tigh - unit that managed to survive the awkwardness of your teenage years, the very first heartbreaks, morphing into full adult women who now shared glasses of wine and discussed work drama.  Thinking about Sarah getting married felt surreal. It was a stark reminder of how time slipped through your fingers without any intention of slowing down. 

There was something so sweet being a silent witness to each other’s milestones. Although you weren’t that excited about being trapped on a floating boat with a gang of retirees, you couldn’t say no to her. Not for this. 

Your heavy luggage hit your shins repeatedly while you were dragging it into the cabin. With a frustrated huff you took the cruise card out of your pocket to unlock your door. Sarah really did splurge on the cruise. Each of you got a separate room; “Just in case something risky happens” Sarah’s words echoed in your head. You couldn’t help it but chuckle to yourself thinking about the elderly crowd you were surrounded by. 

Your cabin was nothing less than a hotel room. Though smaller, it had everything you needed: a big queen-size bed, your private bathroom, but especially, a fantastic ocean view. 

Although still docked at the pier, you could see the gentle ripple of the ocean, little waves lapping against the hull. Hearing the water splashing, gave you a peaceful relief. 

This might actually be fun, you thought to yourself. 

A soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You found Emma in front of you. “Hun, it’s time to hit the pool” she sang. She was wearing a sheer white cover - up, with her bikini already on. 

“How do you manage to get ready this fast?” you asked, incredulous. “There will be time to sort your stuff out, now just bring out your bikini and come with me. Sarah’s orders”. 

“Emma we’ve not even left the port, why do we need to get half naked where there’s not even a breath of air softening the heat” you answered frustrated. 

“Sometimes I still marvel at how clueless you can actually become” she snickered “Look outside your window.” She pointed out and, lo and behold, the ship actually left the port now cutting through the waves. 

The first thing you dug out was your lilac bikini with its matching sarong. You packed your sunscreen, your water and the book you were currently reading, ready to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. 

The gentle breeze shaking through your hair was a welcomed sensation against the scorching heat of the sun. You laid out your towel onto the lounge chair ready to spend the next few hours in a world where work and worries didn’t exist. 

Sarah and Emma took a plunge into the fresh pool water, lost in their own little world, where the first one was keeping her friend up to date with wedding preparations and the trials and tribulations that were brought with it. 

On the other hand, Chloe had managed to steer you away from your book, describing to you the latest fling she had with one of her coworkers. “Here, I need to show you his texts.” 

You were so focused on your friend, that the both of you couldn’t hear the girls calling you out. You snapped out of it because a splash of water soaked your feet. 

Emma had her arms crossed against the edge of the pool “Don’t look, but there is a group of guys, like four, no, no five of them, hot. And I mean the Y/N version of hot!” she yelled - whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“C’mon Em, I just want to finish with Chloe and go back to my book, I don’t have time for this,” you quipped, annoyed. 

She rolled her eyes at you, moving swiftly out of the water, sitting on the lounge chair right in front of you. “They’re covered in ink, would that be interesting to you my darling?” she added suggestively. 

For sure, that piqued your attention. As nonchalantly as you could, you tilted your head behind your shoulder, gauging the truth of your friend’s words. 

As soon as you laid eyes on them, your body tensed instinctually. Your heart picked up a frantic pace. 

They couldn’t be… 

They surely weren’t…

On the other side of the pool, huddled up over a few of the lounge chairs, the Bad Omens band, and Davis, was chilling with a few beers in their hands. 

You whipped your head back, fixing your gaze on the ocean in front of you as you mumbled something incoherent. 

“Oh look” added Sarah, now fully facing them, Emma followed suit. “The tall one is looking over here.” That earned Chloe to look in that direction too, all three of them giggling. Promptly Sarah waved enthusiastically at them “we could go and grab drinks near them or directly with them” she proposed. 

“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours and things just got more interesting” Chloe concluded, a sparkling look animated her face. 

The three of them stood up ready to make their way. The guys were now all looking at the four of you, amused expressions on their faces. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” you started, nervousness seeping through your tone. “They’re your type hun” added Emma “I can’t lie they’re all gorgeous, we’re playing your wingwomen; can we get, like, a cool name? Maybe Y/N’s angels”. The three of them were far into whatever was building in their imagination to notice how you definitely weren’t laughing. 

Panic now fully settled. You needed to get out of there before you could embarrass yourself in front of one of your favourite bands. 

As calmly as you could you scrambled “You go ahead, I have to pee real bad, I’ll catch up to you in a bit.” 

Without waiting for a comeback, you hastily took your towel and you sarong, nearly tripping over your flip-flops, your eyes focused on the exit. Your feet hurried you along. Phone long forgotten on the lounge chair beside your sunscreen. 

Once you felt safe, you released a long breath: let the hide and seek game begin!

You knew your friends had very good intentions towards you, and, specifically, they lacked the very fundamental information of who the boys were. As much as you tried to present your music taste to the girls, it never really caught on among the group. 

They were just aware that tattoos were somewhat attractive to you and knowing all too well about your disastrous past experiences in love matters, they decided to take the matter into their own hands. 

What started as a temporary cover up, turned into a full blown retreat from social life. You picked up your book from the pool and, without your phone, managed to finish it in one go. 

A hard knock on the door startled you awake. When did you fall asleep? You could feel the corner of your mouth slightly damp with drool. You shot up on your bed, confused, having lost track of time. Artificial lighting filtered through the curtains. 

Did I really sleep that much? 

You didn’t even fully open the door that your ears were hit with a cacophony of voices. Three pairs of eyes landed on you: bikini still on, hair tangled from sleep, a light redness covering your skin from suntanning. 

“YOU HAD US SCARED SHITLESS Y/N” Chloe shouted, colliding heavily with your shoulder getting into the room. 

“Yeah, hun” continued Emma “what happened?” her voice was laced with worry. 

Your head was still groggy from sleep attempting to scramble something coherent for them. You managed to croak out “Sorry girls, I know, I just… I don’t know what happened.” 

“You know, at one point even Nick started to get preoccupied,” Sarah added. “We thought that something was wrong, but Jolly reassured us that, if that were the case, the loudspeakers would’ve been activated” she concluded. 

You sat at the edge of your bed, loudly leaning back on the mattress, arms coming up to rest on the headboard. “I guess you met the group of men we saw this morning, then.” You tried to sound disinterested. 

A knowing smirk circled through the girls giggling together. That sound brought you back when you were teenagers facing your first crushes. “Oh yes we have” Emma started “and I think it will be an interesting two weeks” she nodded frantically. 

Instinctively you rolled your eyes at them “Are you already so captivated with them?” 

“They’re fascinating, what can I say?” Chloe quipped, going through your closet, scattering clothes onto your bed. 

“Wait, what happened to “the Y/N’s version of hot”? you retorted, giving a really bad impression of Emma’s voice. 

“You are dirty minded, aren’t you?” Emma came into view, nudging you. Propping yourself to your elbows just to assess what was happening you heard Sarah say “WE” gesturing the three of them “WE wouldn’t fuck ‘em. They’re not our type. But you, on the other hand” she said suggestively “you’d be having fun babe.” 

“They’re very interesting people, easy to talk to,” added Chloe. “They are musicians” Emma cut through a grin plastered on your face. 

“Oh, I see” the color drained from your face. 

“Yeah right? H O T” Emma and Sarah, now, turned their attention to Chloe, still focused on choosing your clothes for dinner. 

Your surprised realization didn’t stem from finding out what they did for a living, obviously, rather from the sudden epiphany that the band didn’t scare the girls away. They welcomed them with open arms. 

FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

Dinner passed through a haze of swirls of voices mixed together, the buzzing of the lights above your heads and the occasional clicking of glasses every time one of the girls wanted to toast about something. 

Fortunately for you, the boys didn’t show up during dinner. 

“Now, Y/N, there’s a surprise for youuu” Chloe sang while taking a sip of her wine. You chuckled, amused by the tipsy singsongy tone of your friend. “Aren’t we here to celebrate Sarah’s engagement?” 

“Duh, but when life gives you lemons…” Sarah answered promptly. 

“Anyways, because you were MIA, we got drinks with them whilst waiting for you. Turns out, they very kindly offered us four spots for a private boat excursion tomorrow.” 

Your mouth dried up. Since when do you offer a trip to four strangers, like out of the blue? 

A tight smile appeared on your face “Fantastic” you blurted out. 

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about” Emma added “no retirees, no dentures and compression socks, just us the “inked - up crew”.  You visibly cringed at their nickname. 

Silence fell at the table, everyone was lost in their own thoughts when, all of a sudden, Chloe added “Just fyi Y/N, there’s your grumpy counterpart even in their group”

“I’m not grumpy” you retorted a bit too quickly, earning a laugh from your friends. 

“He mostly keeps to himself, doesn’t really talk and I feel like he just resents everything and everyone” Emma spoke deep in thought. 

That comment didn’t put you off in the slightest. On the contrary, it gave you a very good detail about their humanity; in a way that seemed to be grounding. They were there not as international rockstars but as five friends seeking some good time and relaxing. 

________________________________________________________________

The next morning you stood over the coffee station, humming in appreciation of the smell surrounding the small space. Your undereyes matched in colour with your black hoodie you put on for breakfast. 

You didn’t get that many hours of sleep last night, nervous about how today was going to unfold. You must’ve bore a hole into the ceiling. 

You felt so annoyed with yourself because of the way you were reacting. It wasn’t so much about the guys but what they created. Bad Omens has been a trusted witness to different difficult moments in your life, giving voice to the pain and suffering otherwise unspoken. What if meeting them meant losing the spark, the magic behind every listen of their music. 

You hugged your mug tightly still basking in that delicious smell. You spotted your friends. They had carefully annexed a couple more tables to the one they were creating, basically, a VIP area in the lounge. 

“Are we having breakfast or are we banqueting with the Queen?” you asked dryly. 

“Good morning to you too sweetheart” answered Sarah, a bit too brightly considering the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. 

Without even looking up from her breakfast sandwich, Chloe said “we’re waiting for the guys, silly, we talked about that last night.” 

“Actually” Emma whispered, nudging you, “they were right behind you.” 

Perfectly timed, you heard seats screeching across the floor. A sea of ink and black garments settled onto the chairs. 

“Good morning ladies” Jolly opened the conversation. There was a collective nod from each of the boys then, quietly, everyone got on eating their breakfast. 

That gave you the perfect excuse to look properly at them. Your friends were right, they were even more handsome than the photos led. 

Yet, it wasn’t their beauty that caught your attention. It was their deeply human and raw features. Through the gentle light of the lounge room, you could make out their acne scars littering their faces. Folio’s face was shadowed by a light stubble. Ruffilo’s complexion had acquired a warm, suntanned tone, allowing his clear eyes to pop out more. 

But what struck you the most was observing their postures. Now a bit slumped, relaxed, stripped of their rockstar presence. They didn’t have the magnetic lore of performing anymore. In that moment, you felt like the invisible barrier that you put on was crumbling piece by piece. You were convinced that, to an outsider, you could potentially be seen as a bunch of ordinary thirty-somethings year, old looking for a good time. 

“So, I guess we’re finally introduced to the fugitive,” Ruffilo said, a warm smile on his face. “I’m Nick, these are Folio, Jolly, Davis” he continued pointing to his friends, each of them giving you a nod of acknowledgement. 

“Sooner or later we’ll be joined by Noah” Davis cut through. “He’s probably still sleeping,” he chuckled. 

You smiled politely, nursing your cup of coffee whilst listening to what day was ahead of you. But then, you heard it: heavy footsteps approaching your table. A very hard pull of the chair right across from you and a silent thud once he was seated. 

Noah. 

He didn’t even acknowledge you or your friends. He just gave a little nod to the boys, just to pick up his phone, scrolling mindlessly. 

The air definitely changed once he came. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sarah straightening her posture, Chloe’s genuine smile, turned into something more forced. Emma just lowered her gaze, now fully focused on her fruit salad. 

What happened to the approachable, kind, fascinating guys? 

“So, y/n” Davis was the first one to break the tension “last night we heard all about you,” he smiled warmly, attempting to dissolve a bit of the tension. 

“Yeah, we heard you are the brains of the group, a very clever woman,” Jolly added. 

As if the rainy cloud of Noah’s attitude was lifted, Emma nodded frantically “Yes, she just finished her phd. Tell ‘em hun.” 

Folio’s brows shot up “A phd? Damn, It’s my first time meeting a doctor” he quipped, sipping his coffee. “How would you prefer to be called from now on? Doc? Doctor? The cleverest of them all?” he laughed. 

That earned a genuine reaction from everyone at the table, snorts and giggles followed. Everyone did, except Noah who stubbornly kept his slumped posture and his eyes on his screen.  

“It’s in forensic anthropology” added Chloe, swirling around her glass of orange juice. “It’s so cool, basically she just digs up bones and analyzes them, right babe?” 

A flush of heat crept up your neck and your cheeks. “Yeah, it’s basically it. It’s for legal investigations. Nothing too interesting. Mostly it’s just time in a lab and then a ton of paperwork for the legal part of it” you downplayed, not wanting to attract more attention to you. 

“I guess you ladies chose the right trip” Noah chimed in out of the blue looking at you through his lashes. “Play your cards well, and you’ll get a couple of real - time field consultations before we hit the next stop” he mocked. Before anyone could reply, he just resumed whatever he was doing with his phone. 

The table went dead silent. 

Ruffilo glared a sharp look towards Noah, while your friends' movements stilled. 

That little comment ignited something deep, furious inside you. He just devalued years of hard work and sacrifices just to get what? A cheap joke at the expense of the elderly you were sharing the cruise with? 

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with tension. Everyone was ready to pick up the pieces once it was snapped. Their eyes darted between each other, worry flashing through their faces, waiting for your reaction. 

Though surprised and hurt, you kept your cool, shoulders squared, you retorted in the calmest way you mustered: “I’ll keep that in mind. I do, in fact, analyze beings with no brain activity and social responsiveness. But they’re usually dead” a pitying look blooming on your face. “Looking across the table, it’s wonderful to see someone who meets all the criteria while still breathing. If you want to come by, I’d like to deepen my knowledge of your wonderful case” you finished, a smug look on your face. 

You could feel the suppressed laughter from the boys, Folio choking on his breakfast sandwich, while Davis was suddenly interested in stirring his cup of tea. 

For the first time, Noah put away his phone, locking his gaze with yours. The condescending look he had before twisted into something darker, defiant, challenging, as if a new pact had just formed between the two of you. 

After what felt like eternity, you gently stood up “I’ll go get changed then, see you in twenty?” Your friends nodded dumbfounded as you left. 

The tables had just turned. Now that you knew Noah wasn’t exactly keen on having you and your friends around, you just had the perfect excuse to keep your distance after this trip. 

Just this trip Y/N, it will all be over before you know it and then, you can go back to the regular schedule: celebrating Sarah’s wedding.  

________________________________________________________________

Pressed between two elderly couples, you felt restless, your foot bounced up and down in anticipation. You were disembarking for the first stop of the cruise but, of course, you being late, lost the others ending up there. 

Irritation began prickling your skin, now sticky because of all the sunscreen you had to put on. You didn’t know what to expect, and new situations experienced with strangers wasn’t your top activity imagined on this cruise. Doing them while sweating through your clothes added an extra layer of challenge that you definitely didn’t want. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of your phone: Chloe was calling you

“Y/N where are you?” her voice popped through the speaker.

“I’m trying to get to the pier, but I’m surrounded by sloths” you growled, annoyance clear in your voice 

“Please, hurry along because I think Noah’s getting frustrated” she said

“And what am I? Some sort of antidote to his frustration? I don’t need to calm him down, I’m not being intentionally late.” You could feel your stomach burning more and more with sheer anger.

Once freed from the sea of pastel colour shirts and straw hats, you rushed to the pier. The sight that greeted you, was hilarious: a bunch of tatted up dudes wearing exclusively black, the only pop of colour given by the art on their graphic shirts, talking animatedly with the girliest of girls you could imagine: pinks and lilacs bikinis with their matching scrunchies, raffia beach bag on one hand, sunglasses on the other. 

Between these two worlds colliding, stood, propped on a wooden piling, Noah. Even if he had his sunglasses on, you could clearly see the frustration in his features: his jaw was clenched shut, arms tightly crossed on his chest, tapping his foot onto the wooden pier deck. He wasn’t involved in their conversation, you just assumed that he was brooding over whatever was on his mind. 

Once you reached the group, a little out of breath, you puffed: “Sorry guys, didn’t mean to be this late”

“Don’t worry darling,” said Jolly warmly, “we’re on vacation! We can have some leniency on punctuality:” He pointed at the white small catamaran docked a few feet away. 

“C’mon man, “leniency”? Have you started to use big words just to impress her?” joked Folio, slapping his mate on his shoulder. 

A few chuckles broke within the group while you all made your way toward the boat. 

“Don’t waste your time Jolly” Noah muttered sourly, placing his sunglasses over his head “she lacks the basic manners to know that being late isn’t a quirky personality trait but a very impolite thing” his voice dripping with disdain “we’ve been baking under the sun for twenty minutes because she just couldn’t get ready before breakfast?” 

In a swift motion, he moved so that his tall frame was towering over yours, his eyes piercing through yours “Just a friendly reminder that you are not the main character here. So get your shit together” he concluded. 

You were frozen on the spot. Heart racing so fast that you feared it could burst out of your chest. Your mouth dried up instantly, heat rising from your chest up to your cheeks. 

With a triumphant smile, Noah moved towards the catamaran. His strut was suddenly stopped by a big hand planted on his chest, holding him back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Nicholas said through gritted teeth. “What’s wrong with you man?” Jolly chimed in, frustrated. 

Davis got closer to Noah, looking him straight in the eyes “You’re behaving like a spoiled brat ever since the very beginning of this trip. We can tolerate your hissy fits, but taking them out on them, on HER” the man pointed at you, now practically screaming on Noah’s face “that’s when I draw the line.” 

“We’ve invited them to this trip” Folio added “WE” gesturing to the four boys “enjoy their company, so, if you don’t, you can get lost. Get the fuck away. We don’t need sulking shadows hunting the boat. Get fucked Noah, we’ll see you on the cruise ship at dinner.” 

Noah’s frame flinched backwards imperceptibly  as if he was taken aback by the harsh words his friends gave to him. For a fraction of a second, you could see that his face went through several emotions: surprise, hurt, but then hardened into something unreadable. He closed his fist on both sides and, without saying another word, started walking back, in long strides, towards the little coastal village. 

Once Noah’s frame was out of sight, a collective sigh ran through the group. “Y/N are you okay?” Sarah waltzed closer to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. That touch made you realize that you were still frozen in the same position from a few minutes before, muscles beginning to ache from the strain. You timidly nodded, afraid that, if you spoke, all hell broke loose. 

Ruffilo came into view, his eyes sporting a very worried expression. “We’re so sorry sweetheart. I don’t have any justifiable reason for the way he’s been treating you. I don’t know what got into him.”

You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. “That’s alright guys, you don’t have control over the behaviour of another person.” A small smile appeared although your eyes were swelling up with tears. “I can understand that we were not planned, in your trip itinerary, so I can see why he’s not that happy about it” a dry laugh left your mouth “my friends can be” you paused looking for the right words “a bit pushy, if you will”. 

“Don’t you even say that” Jolly cut in “we really like you, we want to spend time with you all. It was a welcomed surprise when we realized we were not the only young people out of the hundreds of passengers.” He practically bear hugged you. Although very welcomed, you couldn’t help but be very aware of the light sheen of sweat covering both of you making the hug a bit sticky. 

“Well” Folio quipped enthusiastically “I guess we should board, Noah’s tantrum made us even more late.” 

The mood suddenly shifted, laughter and banter filled the air, as if the dark clouds disappeared and the sun came through once again. 

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t shake it off as easily as the others. Frankly, you weren’t already in the mood for the excursion before all the theatrics went down, now you just wanted to get into your bed and disappear for the rest of the trip just to be sure to never meet Noah ever again. 

“You guys just go ahead, I think I’m going back to the cruise ship, I feel a headache coming on and direct sunlight is not the best way to fight it” you waved weakly to them. 

Your friends just saw right through you. Sad expressions adorned their faces but they didn’t push it. Not even the boys. 

“You have fun guys, I’m curious to know all about it tonight” a warmer, more genuine smile now on your face. You waited for them to set sail waving at them goodbye. 

The walk back to the ship felt way longer than the hurried run you had to do on the way out. 

The whole interaction was replaying frame by frame in your head. Thoughts and emotions were swirling around. You were confused and surprised about how the whole situation changed multiple times in a matter of a few hours. 

Finding out you were sharing a cramped cruise ship with one of your favourite bands; 

Them being very sweet and down to earth; 

Noah being an asshole. 

The irony hit you there and then: “Just a friendly reminder that you are not the main character here”. How rich coming from the fucking frontman of a band who performs in front of thousands of people every night. A bitter laugh came through. 

Questions remained unanswered: 

Was he always like this or was it a special treatment just for you? 

Did you do anything wrong to upset him? 

On one hand you could understand the irritation coming from him, he was always around people and the one time he could enjoy some peace and quiet, he was surrounded by a very loud, very chaotic group of girls. But then, he didn’t have any right to treat you all this way.  

The hot midday sun was burning your skin, so, once the Sinfonia opened its door welcoming with the cold air of the AC, you couldn’t help but relax in relief. 

The ship was eerily quiet. Everyone was out, enjoying and exploring the village. Even some parts of the ship were shut down, the staff seeming more laid back. The hallways swallowed the clacking of your flip flops. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand

Coco: sent a photo 

Coco: missing you hun. The sea is perfect! Sarah’s having a blast and Emma is talking Davis’ ear off about comics. We love you 💜 

You: you all look soo good. Tonight in my room I WANT THE JUCY PARTS. Thank you very much. 😌 

Coco: oh trust me, it is happening. Just don’t rip Noah’s face off until we’re back. 

You: 🙄 

You decided to get to the highest deck possible, and be there for a while. If you couldn’t be on the boat with your friends, you should be able to enjoy the ship you were on at least. 

The room was a semi-open lounge, with big clear windows that offered a panoramic view of the ocean. 

The view was breathtaking. From where you were, you could admire the whole coast line dotted with beaches. Stone pines gave the scenery a beautiful deep green colour that made a fantastic contrast with the golden shade of the sand and the deep blue of the water. 

A light sea breeze picked up, combing through your hair. You closed your eyes, basking in that feeling, even tasting a faint hint of salt on your lips. 

Once your breath evened out, you turned around in order to find a spot to curl up and dive into the story you were reading. Scanning through the room, your heart dropped to your stomach. 

Slouched on an armchair, legs propped against a coffee table in front of him, stood Noah. This time he didn’t have his hood pulled up or his phone under his nose. He simply was staring outside the windows, jaw clenched, fingers rhythmically tapping against the armrest. He looked irritated, defeated, his usual delicate features seemed harsher, brows furrowed into a pained expression, lower lip caged between his teeth. 

Your very first instinct was to bolt out. He didn’t even see you, you can flee, now. He looked angry, you didn’t want to fuel that. 

Unfortunately pride, and a bit of desire to stir him up, to gauge his limits, took over. Running away meant declaring defeat, that he had absolute power over you. So you straightened up, gripping at your bag, you tried to relax your muscles just to give that nonchalant look. 

With a blank expression on your face, you made your way towards his section of the lounge. Your frame missed his by mere millimeters. 

You deliberately chose to sit on the armchair just across from him, both of your figures separated by that tiny coffee table with Noah’s feet on top. Not even sparing him a glance, you cuddled up, knees to your chest, beginning to read. 

Noah didn’t move a muscle, he just followed you with his gaze. A teeny faint of amusement colored his face. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

Neither of you said a word.

The silence that settled was suffocating, heavy with an unspoken, dragging friction. The lounge was completely deserted, making the low, rhythmic hum of the ship’s engines feel entirely too loud.

You were too aware of the energy radiating from Noah. Your plan of blending in with the background was failing miserably. From where you were sitting, you could feel his heavy breathing, his hand flexing against his thigh every few seconds. Your stomach flipped, an instinctual reaction that you couldn’t control. Your eyes were fixed on his hand, now rubbing small, agonizing, circles on the exposed skin from his shorts, too aware of the slight outlines of his veins popping out of his forearm when he flexed it.  

Your mind betrayed you. It conjured up fantasies that had no business being there given what was said to you a few hours before on the pier. It was an involuntary, cruel reaction. Your body wasn’t innocent either. It set a trap for you, clearly not caring about what memories served you. Your hands gripped tightly the edges of the book, concentrating on evening out your breathing which, once again, was getting more uneven. 

You hated him. You needed to hate him. Your pride was hurt. You’ve been humiliated. 

Apparently, your body gave zero fucks about pride, because pressure was building between your thighs and it was growing fast. 

Abruptly, his movements stopped, your breath hitched but you stood still, just refocusing your eyes onto the page, pretending to be deeply interested in the story. 

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Noah shifting his weight, lowering his legs from the coffee table, now leaning forward. His elbows rested against his knees. He was so close, that you could smell mint from the gum he was chewing. “Careful doc” he started. He stared at your face, gaze heavy and completely amused. “You’re gonna bore a hole through the page” his devaluating tone from before left space for dangerous mockery laced with something else that you couldn’t identify yet. 

What a prick! You though

The air between the two of you was getting more and more charged. His words hung in that space mixed with a not so quiet smugness radiating from him. 

He thought he had you cornered. Didn’t he? Oh Sebastian, how wrong you are! Two can play the same game. 

Slowly, deliberately, you uncurled your legs beneath you, mimicking his current position. You snapped closed your book, placing it onto the table. The gap closed even more, bringing your faces just a couple of feet away from each other. 

You didn’t look away. Instead, you took your sweet time to shamelessly take in his frame. From his tattooed hands, your gaze moved onto his wrists, where a few bracelets sat, to, then, lifted up to his throat and then his lips. You lingered there, your tongue absentmindedly wetting your own lips, before locking eyes with him. 

An intensely sweet smile formed on your lips “I was just wondering: all that twitchy energy you have, is it because you’re about to snap…” you tilted your head now getting even closer to him, eyes darkening “or are you just in desperate need of a distraction?”  

The smug expression on Noah’s face faded completely. He froze. His shoulders went completely rigid. You could see his knuckles under his chin, getting whiter. 

You wanted to take control and you had it now. It made your head spin. Revelling in that sensation was intoxicating. The final confirmation was hearing his breath hitch.

Though, his eyes never left yours, now scanning your face just to assess even a hint of bluffing or hesitation. But you held your stance, your eyes focused, dark. Yet, your heart was hammering against your ribs, you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from seeing him completely breathless. 

No one dared to back down. You were observing, studying the other person. In real time, you watched Noah’s shocked gaze melting into something primal, almost predatory. He got even closer, you could now feel the warmth of his breath. “Beware, babygirl, if you play with fire long enough, you’ll get the burn you’re looking for.”

Before waiting for a reply, Noah crashed his lips into yours. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t delicate. It was desperate, raw, as if, in that kiss, Noah put all the pent up tension he had. His large hand found your clipped hair, flicking the clip open. He tangled his fingers in the loose strands, tugging just enough to tilt your head back . That earned a gasp from you. He took the chance to use his tongue deepening the kiss.

It was a power play, a battle over who was the first to submit. Your hands found the back of his neck and, with all the force you had, pressed his head against yours as if the closeness you were experiencing wasn't enough. 

The kiss broke, both of you a bit out of breath. Your head was buzzing, the logical side of you completely switched off. You didn’t care about understanding what was happening, figuring out what this meant;  you just wanted him, and that was all that mattered. 

On the other hand, you could tell that Noah was a bit more grounded, his mind realising what he, well you both, had just done. “I didn’t mean to be this rash” a tinge of worry in his voice “I don’t know what came over me.” He was already moving away from you, when you stopped him, hand still on the back of his neck. 

Tentatively he asked “do you want this?” looking at you square in the eyes. You nodded. “I need words baby” he said, still a bit out of breath. 

“Yes, I want it Noah, I want you” you said firmly. “Do YOU want this?” 

“C’mere” he rasped, pulling you onto his lap. 

He snaked his arms around your naked back, feeling his warmth envelopping you. Your bikini and his shorts already gave away your excitement. Capturing his lips into your, you tentatively rolled your hips onto his already half hard cock earning a deep growl from him. 

“Just like that babygirl, let me feel how eager you are” he purred into your ear. “Do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?” you whined picking up the pace. 

All too aware of the surroundings, you muffled your moans by nipping at his neck, a dance between teeth and tongue, with the sole goal of leaving visible marks on him. 

The power shifted once again. Noah gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the plush skin as he ground them against him. Now, his movements were deliberate, heavy, his crotch meeting your clothed center. 

“Ride my thigh” Noah moaned into your hair. The words didn’t register at first, too blissed out by the friction. 

Suddenly, he halted all of his movements. Moving you like a ragdoll, he lifted you up. You whimpered at the loss of contact. “Already too gone to follow simple orders, kitten?” His voice dropped an octave. “Be a good girl and take your bottoms off.” You obliged. Goosebumps broke out across your skin. 

It was dizzying, the friction of skin to skin, the way his tight muscles mirrored your every movement. 

“Noah” your voice broke into a high pitched moan escaping your lips. He looked down at you, a smug smirk settling on his face “You’re making a mess angel. I can feel how wet you are.”  The sheer arrogance in his tone did nothing to hide his hard on straining against the fabric  of his shorts. 

He looked completely focused on you, while keeping his desires under lock and key. His jaw clenched, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, love bites starting to bloom on his tattooed skin. 

He was a vision.

You shifted your attention, hands now sliding down to his toned chest, feeling the frantic thud of his heart against his ribs. 

“Look at me” you commanded. His half-lidded eyes locked into yours, sporting that ever present smugness. Resuming your movements, dragging your skin against his, you began caressing his mid section getting lower and lower. You smiled, feeling his muscles contracting under your touch. “Let me feel you,” you drawled. 

Your fingertips traced the soft hair on his happy trail, following the dark pattern that dipped lower, disappearing underneath the drawstring of his shorts. 

The smugness faltered on his face. His smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, ragged intake of breath as his muscles contracted under your hands. 

You took your time exploring him still under the fabric. His cock felt heavy in your hand, you could tell he was thick, long. That sensation was enough to unravel the darkest fantasies you had. 

The flickering of a light bulb was enough to activate the ticking clock in the back of your mind: you were too aware of your surroundings. The threat of someone walking in on you fueled the frantic desire coursing through your veins. 

There was no time for gentleness. You hook your fingers under the drawstrings of his shorts, tugging them down. Noah let out a ragged groan as his cock sprung free, heavy, thick, pre-cum glistening his tip. He was magnificent, making your mouth water with anticipation. 

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your hand to your lips, spitting directly into your palm, a thin strand of saliva still connecting it with your mouth. 

The lewd, sloppy sound echoed through the room, making Noah’s pupils even darker, his breathing picking up. 

Your wet fingers wrapped around his length, slowly begging to stroke, coating him from top to bottom. Noah let out a deep, defeated gasp, giving up any restraint that he had before. 

He was completely at your mercy. And God, you absolutely loved it. The shift in power was intoxicating, being the one to coax those delicious sounds from him was the best reward. Your pleasure momentarily forgotten, you focused completely on him. 

“Fuck Y/N” Noah moaned. His head dropped forward, nestling into the crook of your neck. You could feel his cheeks heating up, flushing up a deeper pink colour. His labored breathing hitched against your skin, shoulders beginning to tremble a little. 

Pumping him, you could feel his cock starting to twitch and pulse in your hand. “Let me hear you sweet boy. How are you feeling?” A choked, desperate sound left his mouth. His hips involuntarily started to buck into your fist. A particular hard stroke had Noah almost scream out your name. 

But your thirst for him wasn’t quenched yet, you needed to see him unravelling completely. 

“Pretty boy” you purred, your voice laced with a cruel and sweet authority. “Eyes on me. I wanna see you cum.” Your hand shot up, gripping his jaw, forcing his head back. 

His gaze devoid completely of the arrogance he had before, now glazed over raw desire and complete surrender. 

“I’m gonna cum…Fuck…please Y/N” yelled Noah, already too far gone to keep his voice in check. 

“Where do you want me, babe?”

“Your…your mouth” he huffed. 

A slow, wicked smile spread across your face. “I’ll accommodate just this once” you murmured, sliding off his lap and dropping to your knees on the floor between his thighs. “Only because they could be back any second.”

You looked up at him from below your lashes, your hand never leaving his length. Noah’s chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged cycles, his eyes tracking your every movement with desperation. This fucked out look particularly suited him. Hair tousled, clinging to his forehead, lips slightly parted red and swollen, a pink hue dotted on his cheeks. “You’ve been such a good boy for me,” you whispered against the swollen head of his cock, letting your warm breath ghost over his skin until he whimpered.

Without making him wait another second, you wrapped your lips around him, taking him deep into your mouth. Above you, Noah choked out a sob, his fingers instantly flying to your hair, anchoring himself. It didn’t take long for you to feel his release, warm and thick, covering your throat. His orgasm hit him hard, head flying back, limbs shaking violently. You rode it out with him, swallowing every last drop. 

Noah was slumped against the armchair, completely drained, his eyes closed. The frantic rhythm of your breaths slowing down was the only sound that filled the empty room and the lingering scent of heat and skin the only witness of what’d just happened. 

You stayed there for a moment, still on your knees, your arousal aching between your own legs. You couldn’t tell why, but the thought of having given pleasure to Noah far outweighed the possibility of your own orgasm. So, you chose to ignore it, prioritizing the quiet shift in the air.

As repetitive as it sounded, he looked divine. The post sex glow really did look good on him. Hair stuck on his skin, his head was resting on the chair, exposing his neck. Chest still heaving, panting, trying to catch up on his breathing. You reached out, your thumb brushing over his damp forehead, pushing back a strand of dark hair. He leaned into your touch with a sigh. He opened his eyes, dark and glassy, looking at you with a softness that felt like miles away from the man you encountered the day before or even this morning. He looked unguarded, his arrogant persona completely deconstructed for a glimpse of just him. Noah. You couldn’t tell what that implied, but you felt like something shifted. Not just between you two, but, especially, in you. Softness warmed your chest. 

He didn't say a word, just let his hand rest on the nape of your neck, pulling you just a fraction closer so your foreheads rested against each other. The closeness was overwhelming; you could feel the erratic beat of his heart slowing down against your hand gently spread across his chest.

"My turn next," he muttered, his voice a whisper, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "I owe you. I'm going to make sure you…" he was cut off by an aggressive vibration that shattered the stillness. Your phone, tucked into your discarded bag, lit up. You didn't move at first, but the persistent ding of a facetime call, cut through the haze. You glanced over, an annoyed huff leaving your lips. The screen flashed a group name: your friends.

Just as quickly as it came on, the spell snapped. The little bubble of intimacy, of lingering gazes and hungry touches was on the verge of bursting. The outside world called, intruding in a space that, you both wished, was just yours a little bit longer. Noah’s hand dropped from your neck, his expression hardening into the one you were introduced to as reality rushed back in.

________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________

The stale smell of the port filled your nostrils making your stomach twist in disgust. You could hear the distinct screech of seagulls which were flying above the gigantic cruise ship docked at the pier. 

“MSC Sinfonia” was painted in a navy blue color on its bow. 

“What’s it called again?” you said to Chloe, pointing at the letters. 

“It’s the name of the ship” she quipped “it’s italian for symphony. Isn’t that poetic?” a grin plastered on her face. 

“Oh yeah, greeeat” you retorted dripping with sarcasm. Your forced smile morphing into a frown. 

“Oh c’mon Y/N It’ll be amazing! We get two whole weeks for ourselves, to relax, to unwind and maybe, who knows? We get to pick your date for Sarah’s wedding” Emma winked at you. 

“I’d like to point out that I had to get quite a hefty chunk of time off work and my boss wasn’t exactly pleased” you answered “Besides, we’re the ones who lower the average age of our “fellow passengers”, who am I supposed to bring to the wedding? My sugar daddy?” 

Your three friends erupted into a loud laughter. Your statement wasn’t exactly false. Sarah booked your trip with a company far too expensive for your age-group and off-season. 

So there you were, in line with a bunch of 75 year olds, compression socks and all, waiting for your check - in under the midday sun. 

The four of you have been best friends since middle school. You’ve always been a tigh - unit that managed to survive the awkwardness of your teenage years, the very first heartbreaks, morphing into full adult women who now shared glasses of wine and discussed work drama.  Thinking about Sarah getting married felt surreal. It was a stark reminder of how time slipped through your fingers without any intention of slowing down. 

There was something so sweet being a silent witness to each other’s milestones. Although you weren’t that excited about being trapped on a floating boat with a gang of retirees, you couldn’t say no to her. Not for this. 

Your heavy luggage hit your shins repeatedly while you were dragging it into the cabin. With a frustrated huff you took the cruise card out of your pocket to unlock your door. Sarah really did splurge on the cruise. Each of you got a separate room; “Just in case something risky happens” Sarah’s words echoed in your head. You couldn’t help it but chuckle to yourself thinking about the elderly crowd you were surrounded by. 

Your cabin was nothing less than a hotel room. Though smaller, it had everything you needed: a big queen-size bed, your private bathroom, but especially, a fantastic ocean view. 

Although still docked at the pier, you could see the gentle ripple of the ocean, little waves lapping against the hull. Hearing the water splashing, gave you a peaceful relief. 

This might actually be fun, you thought to yourself. 

A soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You found Emma in front of you. “Hun, it’s time to hit the pool” she sang. She was wearing a sheer white cover - up, with her bikini already on. 

“How do you manage to get ready this fast?” you asked, incredulous. “There will be time to sort your stuff out, now just bring out your bikini and come with me. Sarah’s orders”. 

“Emma we’ve not even left the port, why do we need to get half naked where there’s not even a breath of air softening the heat” you answered frustrated. 

“Sometimes I still marvel at how clueless you can actually become” she snickered “Look outside your window.” She pointed out and, lo and behold, the ship actually left the port now cutting through the waves. 

The first thing you dug out was your lilac bikini with its matching sarong. You packed your sunscreen, your water and the book you were currently reading, ready to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. 

The gentle breeze shaking through your hair was a welcomed sensation against the scorching heat of the sun. You laid out your towel onto the lounge chair ready to spend the next few hours in a world where work and worries didn’t exist. 

Sarah and Emma took a plunge into the fresh pool water, lost in their own little world, where the first one was keeping her friend up to date with wedding preparations and the trials and tribulations that were brought with it. 

On the other hand, Chloe had managed to steer you away from your book, describing to you the latest fling she had with one of her coworkers. “Here, I need to show you his texts.” 

You were so focused on your friend, that the both of you couldn’t hear the girls calling you out. You snapped out of it because a splash of water soaked your feet. 

Emma had her arms crossed against the edge of the pool “Don’t look, but there is a group of guys, like four, no, no five of them, hot. And I mean the Y/N version of hot!” she yelled - whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“C’mon Em, I just want to finish with Chloe and go back to my book, I don’t have time for this,” you quipped, annoyed. 

She rolled her eyes at you, moving swiftly out of the water, sitting on the lounge chair right in front of you. “They’re covered in ink, would that be interesting to you my darling?” she added suggestively. 

For sure, that piqued your attention. As nonchalantly as you could, you tilted your head behind your shoulder, gauging the truth of your friend’s words. 

As soon as you laid eyes on them, your body tensed instinctually. Your heart picked up a frantic pace. 

They couldn’t be… 

They surely weren’t…

On the other side of the pool, huddled up over a few of the lounge chairs, the Bad Omens band, and Davis, was chilling with a few beers in their hands. 

You whipped your head back, fixing your gaze on the ocean in front of you as you mumbled something incoherent. 

“Oh look” added Sarah, now fully facing them, Emma followed suit. “The tall one is looking over here.” That earned Chloe to look in that direction too, all three of them giggling. Promptly Sarah waved enthusiastically at them “we could go and grab drinks near them or directly with them” she proposed. 

“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours and things just got more interesting” Chloe concluded, a sparkling look animated her face. 

The three of them stood up ready to make their way. The guys were now all looking at the four of you, amused expressions on their faces. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” you started, nervousness seeping through your tone. “They’re your type hun” added Emma “I can’t lie they’re all gorgeous, we’re playing your wingwomen; can we get, like, a cool name? Maybe Y/N’s angels”. The three of them were far into whatever was building in their imagination to notice how you definitely weren’t laughing. 

Panic now fully settled. You needed to get out of there before you could embarrass yourself in front of one of your favourite bands. 

As calmly as you could you scrambled “You go ahead, I have to pee real bad, I’ll catch up to you in a bit.” 

Without waiting for a comeback, you hastily took your towel and you sarong, nearly tripping over your flip-flops, your eyes focused on the exit. Your feet hurried you along. Phone long forgotten on the lounge chair beside your sunscreen. 

Once you felt safe, you released a long breath: let the hide and seek game begin!

You knew your friends had very good intentions towards you, and, specifically, they lacked the very fundamental information of who the boys were. As much as you tried to present your music taste to the girls, it never really caught on among the group. 

They were just aware that tattoos were somewhat attractive to you and knowing all too well about your disastrous past experiences in love matters, they decided to take the matter into their own hands. 

What started as a temporary cover up, turned into a full blown retreat from social life. You picked up your book from the pool and, without your phone, managed to finish it in one go. 

A hard knock on the door startled you awake. When did you fall asleep? You could feel the corner of your mouth slightly damp with drool. You shot up on your bed, confused, having lost track of time. Artificial lighting filtered through the curtains. 

Did I really sleep that much? 

You didn’t even fully open the door that your ears were hit with a cacophony of voices. Three pairs of eyes landed on you: bikini still on, hair tangled from sleep, a light redness covering your skin from suntanning. 

“YOU HAD US SCARED SHITLESS Y/N” Chloe shouted, colliding heavily with your shoulder getting into the room. 

“Yeah, hun” continued Emma “what happened?” her voice was laced with worry. 

Your head was still groggy from sleep attempting to scramble something coherent for them. You managed to croak out “Sorry girls, I know, I just… I don’t know what happened.” 

“You know, at one point even Nick started to get preoccupied,” Sarah added. “We thought that something was wrong, but Jolly reassured us that, if that were the case, the loudspeakers would’ve been activated” she concluded. 

You sat at the edge of your bed, loudly leaning back on the mattress, arms coming up to rest on the headboard. “I guess you met the group of men we saw this morning, then.” You tried to sound disinterested. 

A knowing smirk circled through the girls giggling together. That sound brought you back when you were teenagers facing your first crushes. “Oh yes we have” Emma started “and I think it will be an interesting two weeks” she nodded frantically. 

Instinctively you rolled your eyes at them “Are you already so captivated with them?” 

“They’re fascinating, what can I say?” Chloe quipped, going through your closet, scattering clothes onto your bed. 

“Wait, what happened to “the Y/N’s version of hot”? you retorted, giving a really bad impression of Emma’s voice. 

“You are dirty minded, aren’t you?” Emma came into view, nudging you. Propping yourself to your elbows just to assess what was happening you heard Sarah say “WE” gesturing the three of them “WE wouldn’t fuck ‘em. They’re not our type. But you, on the other hand” she said suggestively “you’d be having fun babe.” 

“They’re very interesting people, easy to talk to,” added Chloe. “They are musicians” Emma cut through a grin plastered on your face. 

“Oh, I see” the color drained from your face. 

“Yeah right? H O T” Emma and Sarah, now, turned their attention to Chloe, still focused on choosing your clothes for dinner. 

Your surprised realization didn’t stem from finding out what they did for a living, obviously, rather from the sudden epiphany that the band didn’t scare the girls away. They welcomed them with open arms. 

FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

Dinner passed through a haze of swirls of voices mixed together, the buzzing of the lights above your heads and the occasional clicking of glasses every time one of the girls wanted to toast about something. 

Fortunately for you, the boys didn’t show up during dinner. 

“Now, Y/N, there’s a surprise for youuu” Chloe sang while taking a sip of her wine. You chuckled, amused by the tipsy singsongy tone of your friend. “Aren’t we here to celebrate Sarah’s engagement?” 

“Duh, but when life gives you lemons…” Sarah answered promptly. 

“Anyways, because you were MIA, we got drinks with them whilst waiting for you. Turns out, they very kindly offered us four spots for a private boat excursion tomorrow.” 

Your mouth dried up. Since when do you offer a trip to four strangers, like out of the blue? 

A tight smile appeared on your face “Fantastic” you blurted out. 

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about” Emma added “no retirees, no dentures and compression socks, just us the “inked - up crew”.  You visibly cringed at their nickname. 

Silence fell at the table, everyone was lost in their own thoughts when, all of a sudden, Chloe added “Just fyi Y/N, there’s your grumpy counterpart even in their group”

“I’m not grumpy” you retorted a bit too quickly, earning a laugh from your friends. 

“He mostly keeps to himself, doesn’t really talk and I feel like he just resents everything and everyone” Emma spoke deep in thought. 

That comment didn’t put you off in the slightest. On the contrary, it gave you a very good detail about their humanity; in a way that seemed to be grounding. They were there not as international rockstars but as five friends seeking some good time and relaxing. 

________________________________________________________________

The next morning you stood over the coffee station, humming in appreciation of the smell surrounding the small space. Your undereyes matched in colour with your black hoodie you put on for breakfast. 

You didn’t get that many hours of sleep last night, nervous about how today was going to unfold. You must’ve bore a hole into the ceiling. 

You felt so annoyed with yourself because of the way you were reacting. It wasn’t so much about the guys but what they created. Bad Omens has been a trusted witness to different difficult moments in your life, giving voice to the pain and suffering otherwise unspoken. What if meeting them meant losing the spark, the magic behind every listen of their music. 

You hugged your mug tightly still basking in that delicious smell. You spotted your friends. They had carefully annexed a couple more tables to the one they were creating, basically, a VIP area in the lounge. 

“Are we having breakfast or are we banqueting with the Queen?” you asked dryly. 

“Good morning to you too sweetheart” answered Sarah, a bit too brightly considering the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. 

Without even looking up from her breakfast sandwich, Chloe said “we’re waiting for the guys, silly, we talked about that last night.” 

“Actually” Emma whispered, nudging you, “they were right behind you.” 

Perfectly timed, you heard seats screeching across the floor. A sea of ink and black garments settled onto the chairs. 

“Good morning ladies” Jolly opened the conversation. There was a collective nod from each of the boys then, quietly, everyone got on eating their breakfast. 

That gave you the perfect excuse to look properly at them. Your friends were right, they were even more handsome than the photos led. 

Yet, it wasn’t their beauty that caught your attention. It was their deeply human and raw features. Through the gentle light of the lounge room, you could make out their acne scars littering their faces. Folio’s face was shadowed by a light stubble. Ruffilo’s complexion had acquired a warm, suntanned tone, allowing his clear eyes to pop out more. 

But what struck you the most was observing their postures. Now a bit slumped, relaxed, stripped of their rockstar presence. They didn’t have the magnetic lore of performing anymore. In that moment, you felt like the invisible barrier that you put on was crumbling piece by piece. You were convinced that, to an outsider, you could potentially be seen as a bunch of ordinary thirty-somethings year, old looking for a good time. 

“So, I guess we’re finally introduced to the fugitive,” Ruffilo said, a warm smile on his face. “I’m Nick, these are Folio, Jolly, Davis” he continued pointing to his friends, each of them giving you a nod of acknowledgement. 

“Sooner or later we’ll be joined by Noah” Davis cut through. “He’s probably still sleeping,” he chuckled. 

You smiled politely, nursing your cup of coffee whilst listening to what day was ahead of you. But then, you heard it: heavy footsteps approaching your table. A very hard pull of the chair right across from you and a silent thud once he was seated. 

Noah. 

He didn’t even acknowledge you or your friends. He just gave a little nod to the boys, just to pick up his phone, scrolling mindlessly. 

The air definitely changed once he came. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sarah straightening her posture, Chloe’s genuine smile, turned into something more forced. Emma just lowered her gaze, now fully focused on her fruit salad. 

What happened to the approachable, kind, fascinating guys? 

“So, y/n” Davis was the first one to break the tension “last night we heard all about you,” he smiled warmly, attempting to dissolve a bit of the tension. 

“Yeah, we heard you are the brains of the group, a very clever woman,” Jolly added. 

As if the rainy cloud of Noah’s attitude was lifted, Emma nodded frantically “Yes, she just finished her phd. Tell ‘em hun.” 

Folio’s brows shot up “A phd? Damn, It’s my first time meeting a doctor” he quipped, sipping his coffee. “How would you prefer to be called from now on? Doc? Doctor? The cleverest of them all?” he laughed. 

That earned a genuine reaction from everyone at the table, snorts and giggles followed. Everyone did, except Noah who stubbornly kept his slumped posture and his eyes on his screen.  

“It’s in forensic anthropology” added Chloe, swirling around her glass of orange juice. “It’s so cool, basically she just digs up bones and analyzes them, right babe?” 

A flush of heat crept up your neck and your cheeks. “Yeah, it’s basically it. It’s for legal investigations. Nothing too interesting. Mostly it’s just time in a lab and then a ton of paperwork for the legal part of it” you downplayed, not wanting to attract more attention to you. 

“I guess you ladies chose the right trip” Noah chimed in out of the blue looking at you through his lashes. “Play your cards well, and you’ll get a couple of real - time field consultations before we hit the next stop” he mocked. Before anyone could reply, he just resumed whatever he was doing with his phone. 

The table went dead silent. 

Ruffilo glared a sharp look towards Noah, while your friends' movements stilled. 

That little comment ignited something deep, furious inside you. He just devalued years of hard work and sacrifices just to get what? A cheap joke at the expense of the elderly you were sharing the cruise with? 

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with tension. Everyone was ready to pick up the pieces once it was snapped. Their eyes darted between each other, worry flashing through their faces, waiting for your reaction. 

Though surprised and hurt, you kept your cool, shoulders squared, you retorted in the calmest way you mustered: “I’ll keep that in mind. I do, in fact, analyze beings with no brain activity and social responsiveness. But they’re usually dead” a pitying look blooming on your face. “Looking across the table, it’s wonderful to see someone who meets all the criteria while still breathing. If you want to come by, I’d like to deepen my knowledge of your wonderful case” you finished, a smug look on your face. 

You could feel the suppressed laughter from the boys, Folio choking on his breakfast sandwich, while Davis was suddenly interested in stirring his cup of tea. 

For the first time, Noah put away his phone, locking his gaze with yours. The condescending look he had before twisted into something darker, defiant, challenging, as if a new pact had just formed between the two of you. 

After what felt like eternity, you gently stood up “I’ll go get changed then, see you in twenty?” Your friends nodded dumbfounded as you left. 

The tables had just turned. Now that you knew Noah wasn’t exactly keen on having you and your friends around, you just had the perfect excuse to keep your distance after this trip. 

Just this trip Y/N, it will all be over before you know it and then, you can go back to the regular schedule: celebrating Sarah’s wedding.  

________________________________________________________________

Pressed between two elderly couples, you felt restless, your foot bounced up and down in anticipation. You were disembarking for the first stop of the cruise but, of course, you being late, lost the others ending up there. 

Irritation began prickling your skin, now sticky because of all the sunscreen you had to put on. You didn’t know what to expect, and new situations experienced with strangers wasn’t your top activity imagined on this cruise. Doing them while sweating through your clothes added an extra layer of challenge that you definitely didn’t want. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of your phone: Chloe was calling you

“Y/N where are you?” her voice popped through the speaker.

“I’m trying to get to the pier, but I’m surrounded by sloths” you growled, annoyance clear in your voice 

“Please, hurry along because I think Noah’s getting frustrated” she said

“And what am I? Some sort of antidote to his frustration? I don’t need to calm him down, I’m not being intentionally late.” You could feel your stomach burning more and more with sheer anger.

Once freed from the sea of pastel colour shirts and straw hats, you rushed to the pier. The sight that greeted you, was hilarious: a bunch of tatted up dudes wearing exclusively black, the only pop of colour given by the art on their graphic shirts, talking animatedly with the girliest of girls you could imagine: pinks and lilacs bikinis with their matching scrunchies, raffia beach bag on one hand, sunglasses on the other. 

Between these two worlds colliding, stood, propped on a wooden piling, Noah. Even if he had his sunglasses on, you could clearly see the frustration in his features: his jaw was clenched shut, arms tightly crossed on his chest, tapping his foot onto the wooden pier deck. He wasn’t involved in their conversation, you just assumed that he was brooding over whatever was on his mind. 

Once you reached the group, a little out of breath, you puffed: “Sorry guys, didn’t mean to be this late”

“Don’t worry darling,” said Jolly warmly, “we’re on vacation! We can have some leniency on punctuality:” He pointed at the white small catamaran docked a few feet away. 

“C’mon man, “leniency”? Have you started to use big words just to impress her?” joked Folio, slapping his mate on his shoulder. 

A few chuckles broke within the group while you all made your way toward the boat. 

“Don’t waste your time Jolly” Noah muttered sourly, placing his sunglasses over his head “she lacks the basic manners to know that being late isn’t a quirky personality trait but a very impolite thing” his voice dripping with disdain “we’ve been baking under the sun for twenty minutes because she just couldn’t get ready before breakfast?” 

In a swift motion, he moved so that his tall frame was towering over yours, his eyes piercing through yours “Just a friendly reminder that you are not the main character here. So get your shit together” he concluded. 

You were frozen on the spot. Heart racing so fast that you feared it could burst out of your chest. Your mouth dried up instantly, heat rising from your chest up to your cheeks. 

With a triumphant smile, Noah moved towards the catamaran. His strut was suddenly stopped by a big hand planted on his chest, holding him back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Nicholas said through gritted teeth. “What’s wrong with you man?” Jolly chimed in, frustrated. 

Davis got closer to Noah, looking him straight in the eyes “You’re behaving like a spoiled brat ever since the very beginning of this trip. We can tolerate your hissy fits, but taking them out on them, on HER” the man pointed at you, now practically screaming on Noah’s face “that’s when I draw the line.” 

“We’ve invited them to this trip” Folio added “WE” gesturing to the four boys “enjoy their company, so, if you don’t, you can get lost. Get the fuck away. We don’t need sulking shadows hunting the boat. Get fucked Noah, we’ll see you on the cruise ship at dinner.” 

Noah’s frame flinched backwards imperceptibly  as if he was taken aback by the harsh words his friends gave to him. For a fraction of a second, you could see that his face went through several emotions: surprise, hurt, but then hardened into something unreadable. He closed his fist on both sides and, without saying another word, started walking back, in long strides, towards the little coastal village. 

Once Noah’s frame was out of sight, a collective sigh ran through the group. “Y/N are you okay?” Sarah waltzed closer to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. That touch made you realize that you were still frozen in the same position from a few minutes before, muscles beginning to ache from the strain. You timidly nodded, afraid that, if you spoke, all hell broke loose. 

Ruffilo came into view, his eyes sporting a very worried expression. “We’re so sorry sweetheart. I don’t have any justifiable reason for the way he’s been treating you. I don’t know what got into him.”

You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. “That’s alright guys, you don’t have control over the behaviour of another person.” A small smile appeared although your eyes were swelling up with tears. “I can understand that we were not planned, in your trip itinerary, so I can see why he’s not that happy about it” a dry laugh left your mouth “my friends can be” you paused looking for the right words “a bit pushy, if you will”. 

“Don’t you even say that” Jolly cut in “we really like you, we want to spend time with you all. It was a welcomed surprise when we realized we were not the only young people out of the hundreds of passengers.” He practically bear hugged you. Although very welcomed, you couldn’t help but be very aware of the light sheen of sweat covering both of you making the hug a bit sticky. 

“Well” Folio quipped enthusiastically “I guess we should board, Noah’s tantrum made us even more late.” 

The mood suddenly shifted, laughter and banter filled the air, as if the dark clouds disappeared and the sun came through once again. 

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t shake it off as easily as the others. Frankly, you weren’t already in the mood for the excursion before all the theatrics went down, now you just wanted to get into your bed and disappear for the rest of the trip just to be sure to never meet Noah ever again. 

“You guys just go ahead, I think I’m going back to the cruise ship, I feel a headache coming on and direct sunlight is not the best way to fight it” you waved weakly to them. 

Your friends just saw right through you. Sad expressions adorned their faces but they didn’t push it. Not even the boys. 

“You have fun guys, I’m curious to know all about it tonight” a warmer, more genuine smile now on your face. You waited for them to set sail waving at them goodbye. 

The walk back to the ship felt way longer than the hurried run you had to do on the way out. 

The whole interaction was replaying frame by frame in your head. Thoughts and emotions were swirling around. You were confused and surprised about how the whole situation changed multiple times in a matter of a few hours. 

Finding out you were sharing a cramped cruise ship with one of your favourite bands; 

Them being very sweet and down to earth; 

Noah being an asshole. 

The irony hit you there and then: “Just a friendly reminder that you are not the main character here”. How rich coming from the fucking frontman of a band who performs in front of thousands of people every night. A bitter laugh came through. 

Questions remained unanswered: 

Was he always like this or was it a special treatment just for you? 

Did you do anything wrong to upset him? 

On one hand you could understand the irritation coming from him, he was always around people and the one time he could enjoy some peace and quiet, he was surrounded by a very loud, very chaotic group of girls. But then, he didn’t have any right to treat you all this way.  

The hot midday sun was burning your skin, so, once the Sinfonia opened its door welcoming with the cold air of the AC, you couldn’t help but relax in relief. 

The ship was eerily quiet. Everyone was out, enjoying and exploring the village. Even some parts of the ship were shut down, the staff seeming more laid back. The hallways swallowed the clacking of your flip flops. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand

Coco: sent a photo 

Coco: missing you hun. The sea is perfect! Sarah’s having a blast and Emma is talking Davis’ ear off about comics. We love you 💜 

You: you all look soo good. Tonight in my room I WANT THE JUCY PARTS. Thank you very much. 😌 

Coco: oh trust me, it is happening. Just don’t rip Noah’s face off until we’re back. 

You: 🙄 

You decided to get to the highest deck possible, and be there for a while. If you couldn’t be on the boat with your friends, you should be able to enjoy the ship you were on at least. 

The room was a semi-open lounge, with big clear windows that offered a panoramic view of the ocean. 

The view was breathtaking. From where you were, you could admire the whole coast line dotted with beaches. Stone pines gave the scenery a beautiful deep green colour that made a fantastic contrast with the golden shade of the sand and the deep blue of the water. 

A light sea breeze picked up, combing through your hair. You closed your eyes, basking in that feeling, even tasting a faint hint of salt on your lips. 

Once your breath evened out, you turned around in order to find a spot to curl up and dive into the story you were reading. Scanning through the room, your heart dropped to your stomach. 

Slouched on an armchair, legs propped against a coffee table in front of him, stood Noah. This time he didn’t have his hood pulled up or his phone under his nose. He simply was staring outside the windows, jaw clenched, fingers rhythmically tapping against the armrest. He looked irritated, defeated, his usual delicate features seemed harsher, brows furrowed into a pained expression, lower lip caged between his teeth. 

Your very first instinct was to bolt out. He didn’t even see you, you can flee, now. He looked angry, you didn’t want to fuel that. 

Unfortunately pride, and a bit of desire to stir him up, to gauge his limits, took over. Running away meant declaring defeat, that he had absolute power over you. So you straightened up, gripping at your bag, you tried to relax your muscles just to give that nonchalant look. 

With a blank expression on your face, you made your way towards his section of the lounge. Your frame missed his by mere millimeters. 

You deliberately chose to sit on the armchair just across from him, both of your figures separated by that tiny coffee table with Noah’s feet on top. Not even sparing him a glance, you cuddled up, knees to your chest, beginning to read. 

Noah didn’t move a muscle, he just followed you with his gaze. A teeny faint of amusement colored his face. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

Neither of you said a word.

The silence that settled was suffocating, heavy with an unspoken, dragging friction. The lounge was completely deserted, making the low, rhythmic hum of the ship’s engines feel entirely too loud.

You were too aware of the energy radiating from Noah. Your plan of blending in with the background was failing miserably. From where you were sitting, you could feel his heavy breathing, his hand flexing against his thigh every few seconds. Your stomach flipped, an instinctual reaction that you couldn’t control. Your eyes were fixed on his hand, now rubbing small, agonizing, circles on the exposed skin from his shorts, too aware of the slight outlines of his veins popping out of his forearm when he flexed it.  

Your mind betrayed you. It conjured up fantasies that had no business being there given what was said to you a few hours before on the pier. It was an involuntary, cruel reaction. Your body wasn’t innocent either. It set a trap for you, clearly not caring about what memories served you. Your hands gripped tightly the edges of the book, concentrating on evening out your breathing which, once again, was getting more uneven. 

You hated him. You needed to hate him. Your pride was hurt. You’ve been humiliated. 

Apparently, your body gave zero fucks about pride, because pressure was building between your thighs and it was growing fast. 

Abruptly, his movements stopped, your breath hitched but you stood still, just refocusing your eyes onto the page, pretending to be deeply interested in the story. 

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Noah shifting his weight, lowering his legs from the coffee table, now leaning forward. His elbows rested against his knees. He was so close, that you could smell mint from the gum he was chewing. “Careful doc” he started. He stared at your face, gaze heavy and completely amused. “You’re gonna bore a hole through the page” his devaluating tone from before left space for dangerous mockery laced with something else that you couldn’t identify yet. 

What a prick! You though

The air between the two of you was getting more and more charged. His words hung in that space mixed with a not so quiet smugness radiating from him. 

He thought he had you cornered. Didn’t he? Oh Sebastian, how wrong you are! Two can play the same game. 

Slowly, deliberately, you uncurled your legs beneath you, mimicking his current position. You snapped closed your book, placing it onto the table. The gap closed even more, bringing your faces just a couple of feet away from each other. 

You didn’t look away. Instead, you took your sweet time to shamelessly take in his frame. From his tattooed hands, your gaze moved onto his wrists, where a few bracelets sat, to, then, lifted up to his throat and then his lips. You lingered there, your tongue absentmindedly wetting your own lips, before locking eyes with him. 

An intensely sweet smile formed on your lips “I was just wondering: all that twitchy energy you have, is it because you’re about to snap…” you tilted your head now getting even closer to him, eyes darkening “or are you just in desperate need of a distraction?”  

The smug expression on Noah’s face faded completely. He froze. His shoulders went completely rigid. You could see his knuckles under his chin, getting whiter. 

You wanted to take control and you had it now. It made your head spin. Revelling in that sensation was intoxicating. The final confirmation was hearing his breath hitch.

Though, his eyes never left yours, now scanning your face just to assess even a hint of bluffing or hesitation. But you held your stance, your eyes focused, dark. Yet, your heart was hammering against your ribs, you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from seeing him completely breathless. 

No one dared to back down. You were observing, studying the other person. In real time, you watched Noah’s shocked gaze melting into something primal, almost predatory. He got even closer, you could now feel the warmth of his breath. “Beware, babygirl, if you play with fire long enough, you’ll get the burn you’re looking for.”

Before waiting for a reply, Noah crashed his lips into yours. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t delicate. It was desperate, raw, as if, in that kiss, Noah put all the pent up tension he had. His large hand found your clipped hair, flicking the clip open. He tangled his fingers in the loose strands, tugging just enough to tilt your head back . That earned a gasp from you. He took the chance to use his tongue deepening the kiss.

It was a power play, a battle over who was the first to submit. Your hands found the back of his neck and, with all the force you had, pressed his head against yours as if the closeness you were experiencing wasn't enough. 

The kiss broke, both of you a bit out of breath. Your head was buzzing, the logical side of you completely switched off. You didn’t care about understanding what was happening, figuring out what this meant;  you just wanted him, and that was all that mattered. 

On the other hand, you could tell that Noah was a bit more grounded, his mind realising what he, well you both, had just done. “I didn’t mean to be this rash” a tinge of worry in his voice “I don’t know what came over me.” He was already moving away from you, when you stopped him, hand still on the back of his neck. 

Tentatively he asked “do you want this?” looking at you square in the eyes. You nodded. “I need words baby” he said, still a bit out of breath. 

“Yes, I want it Noah, I want you” you said firmly. “Do YOU want this?” 

“C’mere” he rasped, pulling you onto his lap. 

He snaked his arms around your naked back, feeling his warmth envelopping you. Your bikini and his shorts already gave away your excitement. Capturing his lips into your, you tentatively rolled your hips onto his already half hard cock earning a deep growl from him. 

“Just like that babygirl, let me feel how eager you are” he purred into your ear. “Do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?” you whined picking up the pace. 

All too aware of the surroundings, you muffled your moans by nipping at his neck, a dance between teeth and tongue, with the sole goal of leaving visible marks on him. 

The power shifted once again. Noah gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the plush skin as he ground them against him. Now, his movements were deliberate, heavy, his crotch meeting your clothed center. 

“Ride my thigh” Noah moaned into your hair. The words didn’t register at first, too blissed out by the friction. 

Suddenly, he halted all of his movements. Moving you like a ragdoll, he lifted you up. You whimpered at the loss of contact. “Already too gone to follow simple orders, kitten?” His voice dropped an octave. “Be a good girl and take your bottoms off.” You obliged. Goosebumps broke out across your skin. 

It was dizzying, the friction of skin to skin, the way his tight muscles mirrored your every movement. 

“Noah” your voice broke into a high pitched moan escaping your lips. He looked down at you, a smug smirk settling on his face “You’re making a mess angel. I can feel how wet you are.”  The sheer arrogance in his tone did nothing to hide his hard on straining against the fabric  of his shorts. 

He looked completely focused on you, while keeping his desires under lock and key. His jaw clenched, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, love bites starting to bloom on his tattooed skin. 

He was a vision.

You shifted your attention, hands now sliding down to his toned chest, feeling the frantic thud of his heart against his ribs. 

“Look at me” you commanded. His half-lidded eyes locked into yours, sporting that ever present smugness. Resuming your movements, dragging your skin against his, you began caressing his mid section getting lower and lower. You smiled, feeling his muscles contracting under your touch. “Let me feel you,” you drawled. 

Your fingertips traced the soft hair on his happy trail, following the dark pattern that dipped lower, disappearing underneath the drawstring of his shorts. 

The smugness faltered on his face. His smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, ragged intake of breath as his muscles contracted under your hands. 

You took your time exploring him still under the fabric. His cock felt heavy in your hand, you could tell he was thick, long. That sensation was enough to unravel the darkest fantasies you had. 

The flickering of a light bulb was enough to activate the ticking clock in the back of your mind: you were too aware of your surroundings. The threat of someone walking in on you fueled the frantic desire coursing through your veins. 

There was no time for gentleness. You hook your fingers under the drawstrings of his shorts, tugging them down. Noah let out a ragged groan as his cock sprung free, heavy, thick, pre-cum glistening his tip. He was magnificent, making your mouth water with anticipation. 

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your hand to your lips, spitting directly into your palm, a thin strand of saliva still connecting it with your mouth. 

The lewd, sloppy sound echoed through the room, making Noah’s pupils even darker, his breathing picking up. 

Your wet fingers wrapped around his length, slowly begging to stroke, coating him from top to bottom. Noah let out a deep, defeated gasp, giving up any restraint that he had before. 

He was completely at your mercy. And God, you absolutely loved it. The shift in power was intoxicating, being the one to coax those delicious sounds from him was the best reward. Your pleasure momentarily forgotten, you focused completely on him. 

“Fuck Y/N” Noah moaned. His head dropped forward, nestling into the crook of your neck. You could feel his cheeks heating up, flushing up a deeper pink colour. His labored breathing hitched against your skin, shoulders beginning to tremble a little. 

Pumping him, you could feel his cock starting to twitch and pulse in your hand. “Let me hear you sweet boy. How are you feeling?” A choked, desperate sound left his mouth. His hips involuntarily started to buck into your fist. A particular hard stroke had Noah almost scream out your name. 

But your thirst for him wasn’t quenched yet, you needed to see him unravelling completely. 

“Pretty boy” you purred, your voice laced with a cruel and sweet authority. “Eyes on me. I wanna see you cum.” Your hand shot up, gripping his jaw, forcing his head back. 

His gaze devoid completely of the arrogance he had before, now glazed over raw desire and complete surrender. 

“I’m gonna cum…Fuck…please Y/N” yelled Noah, already too far gone to keep his voice in check. 

“Where do you want me, babe?”

“Your…your mouth” he huffed. 

A slow, wicked smile spread across your face. “I’ll accommodate just this once” you murmured, sliding off his lap and dropping to your knees on the floor between his thighs. “Only because they could be back any second.”

You looked up at him from below your lashes, your hand never leaving his length. Noah’s chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged cycles, his eyes tracking your every movement with desperation. This fucked out look particularly suited him. Hair tousled, clinging to his forehead, lips slightly parted red and swollen, a pink hue dotted on his cheeks. “You’ve been such a good boy for me,” you whispered against the swollen head of his cock, letting your warm breath ghost over his skin until he whimpered.

Without making him wait another second, you wrapped your lips around him, taking him deep into your mouth. Above you, Noah choked out a sob, his fingers instantly flying to your hair, anchoring himself. It didn’t take long for you to feel his release, warm and thick, covering your throat. His orgasm hit him hard, head flying back, limbs shaking violently. You rode it out with him, swallowing every last drop. 

Noah was slumped against the armchair, completely drained, his eyes closed. The frantic rhythm of your breaths slowing down was the only sound that filled the empty room and the lingering scent of heat and skin the only witness of what’d just happened. 

You stayed there for a moment, still on your knees, your arousal aching between your own legs. You couldn’t tell why, but the thought of having given pleasure to Noah far outweighed the possibility of your own orgasm. So, you chose to ignore it, prioritizing the quiet shift in the air.

As repetitive as it sounded, he looked divine. The post sex glow really did look good on him. Hair stuck on his skin, his head was resting on the chair, exposing his neck. Chest still heaving, panting, trying to catch up on his breathing. You reached out, your thumb brushing over his damp forehead, pushing back a strand of dark hair. He leaned into your touch with a sigh. He opened his eyes, dark and glassy, looking at you with a softness that felt like miles away from the man you encountered the day before or even this morning. He looked unguarded, his arrogant persona completely deconstructed for a glimpse of just him. Noah. You couldn’t tell what that implied, but you felt like something shifted. Not just between you two, but, especially, in you. Softness warmed your chest. 

He didn't say a word, just let his hand rest on the nape of your neck, pulling you just a fraction closer so your foreheads rested against each other. The closeness was overwhelming; you could feel the erratic beat of his heart slowing down against your hand gently spread across his chest.

"My turn next," he muttered, his voice a whisper, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "I owe you. I'm going to make sure you…" he was cut off by an aggressive vibration that shattered the stillness. Your phone, tucked into your discarded bag, lit up. You didn't move at first, but the persistent ding of a facetime call, cut through the haze. You glanced over, an annoyed huff leaving your lips. The screen flashed a group name: your friends.

Just as quickly as it came on, the spell snapped. The little bubble of intimacy, of lingering gazes and hungry touches was on the verge of bursting. The outside world called, intruding in a space that, you both wished, was just yours a little bit longer. Noah’s hand dropped from your neck, his expression hardening into the one you were introduced to as reality rushed back in.

________________________________________________________________

Giving Noah a camcorder is like giving a child free rein of a candy shop. He’s giddy the moment Bryan hands it off to him in the green room. His hands trail over the mixed-metal and plastic frame, eyes wide with awe, and he immediately presses the buttons, turning every dial and switch to figure out what it all does.

He jokes about bringing it on stage before he even attempts to use it. Unfortunately for Bryan, who will have more work to do, it’s a great idea. The lead singer getting footage of the crowd and showing his perspective? It’s amazing for social media.

So, to make sure Noah’s footage isn’t completely unusable, he plays around with it a lot to get used to it. He shoves it in everyone’s faces. Folio loves it, sticking out his tongue and wiggling as close to the lens as possible. Nicholas nods at it, trying to seem unamused, but fails miserably. Jolly swats it away as if the camera and the man holding it are incessant little bugs, but he can barely hold back a smile. 

Pointing it at you next is inevitable. You’re sitting at a small table in the corner of the room, working through emails during this little bit of downtime. Noah hunches his back, pushes his shoulders up to his ears, and sneaks up beside you. The over-six-foot-tall man can’t go unnoticed, especially when he’s your goofy boyfriend. You turn your head to face him, but keep your eyes on your laptop.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Noah sings. “Bryan gave me a toy."

You snort. “Oh boy, exactly what you need."

It’s only then that you hit send on your email and finally look at him. He’s got the camcorder up to his face with one eye squinted, mouth open, and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It’s about an hour or so before showtime, so he isn’t fully dressed in his stage clothes. Instead, he’s only wearing a tank top, which shows off the vibrant colors of his tattoos. His hair is so long right now that it sticks up in various directions in the back, but you love it like that because it reminds you of his older hairstyles, which you miss dearly. Your eyes shamelessly drag over him, taking in the hard lines of his broad shoulders, the way his muscles strain underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. 

“You know I totally just caught you drooling over me on camera, right?" He asks, still recording. 

“I was not drooling,” you argue, making sure to look right into the lens so it captures your intense eyeroll. 

“Sure,” Noah teases, dragging the word out. 

“Why don’t you leave the camera work to professionals and go be pretty elsewhere?” 

“I am a professional!” Noah pouts, dropping the camera. “Bryan said I can use it on stage!”

“He’s going to regret that,” you laugh, reaching over to pat your boyfriend on the shoulder like a little puppy. 

~~~

Your words don’t ring true until days later. 

It’s the afternoon of a day off. Most of the crew is exploring the city and probably won’t be back until it’s time to start driving again. It’s just you, Noah, and Bryan left on the main bus.

Bryan sits at the small built-in table and drops all his gear as he prepares to work. You and Noah talk quietly among yourselves as you lounge on the couch, your head in Noah’s lap with his fingers trailing through your hair. 

This is a somewhat normal routine you three have built. Bryan likes to work with the people around him as his body doubles and to hold him accountable for his deadlines. You and Noah just enjoy having your friends around as much as possible. On tour, chill moments are few and far between. So relaxing with a little company is a win-win.

For the first half hour or so, it’s quiet. Bryan works diligently, and you scroll absentmindedly through your phone while Noah rests his eyes. The only noise is the click of Bryan’s mouse and the occasional TikTok video your friends send. That is, until a squeak startles you, sending your phone crashing to the floor. You frantically look around the space for the source of the sound.

Bryan’s cheeks are bright red, and the color trails down his neck and spreads across his nose. His eyes are wide but still fixed on the screen in front of him.

“Bry?” you ask, confusion in your voice. “You okay?”

He swallows hard, eyes slowly dragging up to meet yours. 

“I'm fine.” His voice cracks as he answers, and you raise an eyebrow at him, but he's already looking past you and up at Noah. 

“I'm just looking through your camcorder footage,” Bryan explains. 

Your brows furrow. What in videos of fans would make him react like that? It’s just clips from the very end of every set, each one full of the crowd as they yell, wave, and try to catch various goodies. It's incredible footage that has added a personal element to the nightly recap videos Bryan puts together. 

There's been another use for the camcorder as well—something a little more… intimate. 

The realization dawns on you far too late, and you scramble off Noah's lap, sitting up straight. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't move an inch. You don't have to look at him to know there’s a shit-eating grin pulling at his lips. Sometimes, he has an incredible poker face, but not when he's seconds from an absolutely insane idea. 

After the first show, Noah was far too excited to put the camera down. He didn’t give it back to Bryan, claiming that he could be responsible for it, so he brought it to your hotel room and tossed it on the couch on the other side of the room. You were stripping off your all-black leather outfit and giving him the eyes. It took only seconds for him to get a sinister idea, slinking off the bed and reaching for the camera once again. The rest is history. Well, recorded history. 

You have no idea what to say to Bryan right now. You don't particularly mind that he’s seeing it, but you know he's more than likely being blindsided by your entirely naked body on his laptop screen. 

“Bryan, listen—” you barely get the words out before you're stopped by Noah gently resting a hand on your thigh. 

“Don't be shy,” he says calmly. “Show us.” 

You whip your head to the side to look at him, eyes wide. “Noah—”

A squeeze to your leg shuts you right up. 

“Turn the laptop around, Bryan,” he commands in a slow, serious drawl. 

Bryan obliges, one shaky hand turning it around. Sure enough, right there on the screen is a frame perfectly paused on you sprawled out naked across a hotel bed. Judging from the comforter, this was only two nights ago in Chicago. Your skin looks soft through the vintage, film-like lens, glowing in the dim, warm light. There’s a shy smile spreading over your face and stars in your eyes as you look up at Noah.

You feel instantly transported to the moment. Noah stripped down to a fresh pair of boxer briefs just after a shower, standing at the foot of the bed with the camera held up to his face, and you squirming in the plush sheets under his intense gaze and demands. 

“Do you want to watch it?” Noah breaks the awkward silence and brings you back to reality, to the fact that one of your closest friends just saw something that was never meant to meet the light of day. 

“No, I lived it,” you respond, turning your head to the side to look at Noah. He's facing forward, eyes straight ahead. 

“I'm not asking you,” he explains calmly. 

You follow his gaze back to the only other person in the room. Bryan’s expression has morphed from shock and confusion to something far more complicated. Heavy-lidded eyes, parted lips, perfectly still hands balled into white-knuckled fists in his lap. 

Oh. Oh. 

“Bryan,” Noah says, nudging the other man with the word. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in place as you wait for whatever his answer will be. Do you want him to watch it? Or do you want him just to delete the video and laugh it off? 

“I do, yeah,” Bryan practically whispers. 

“Are you okay with Bryan watching it, princess?” Noah looks over at you as he asks. 

Your breath catches in your throat. This is real and happening, and you have to answer Noah honestly because he will know instantly if you try to lie. 

And the truth hits you hard, spreading warmth over your skin. Out of all of the guys, you might just be the most okay with Bryan seeing you naked and desperate. With how long he and Noah have been friends, there’s no chance he hasn’t already seen Noah, including every tantalizing inch of him. But you? You’ve only ever stripped down to a bathing suit around the band and crew, and even then, it was a quite modest one-piece. Noah has never even mentioned sharing you with any of them, so this is all coming out of nowhere. 

But you trust Bryan. With all the years spent touring together, you’ve gotten close to him. The static that makes your entire body feel like it is buzzing is enough to tell you you want this to happen. You want Bryan to unpause the video and watch as it unfolds. 

“Yes,” you whimper, unable to look anywhere but right at your friend, who is now holding your gaze with such intensity. 

“Good,” Noah coos, squeezing your thigh again in praise. “Do you want to watch with him? See how he reacts to you being fucked?” 

“I do,” you whine. “I really, really do.” 

“Then go ahead, Bryan,” Noah nods forward. “Press play.” 

There’s a moment where no one moves, like you’re all waiting for the shoe to drop, for Noah to snatch the laptop and remove all traces of your escapades. When Bryan realizes that the command is real, that he does have permission to watch, he positions himself on the edge of the seat, turns the laptop to make sure all three of you can see it, and then hits the space bar. 

The video starts right up. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” Noah murmurs, the sound crackling as he moves the camera closer to you to focus on the way your body reacts to his words. 

You wriggle impatiently, the clean white sheets bunching around you. Your skin is covered in goosebumps, partially from the overhead fan whirring at full speed and also from sheer anticipation, knowing what’s coming so very soon. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes soft and wide. 

“You’re welcome,” Noah replies, voice growing rougher with every word. “Do you want to touch yourself for the camera, baby? Show off a little?” 

You hesitate, hands resting at your sides, but twitching in the blankets. Noah’s patience is obvious, simply keeping the camera steady and on your body as you decide. 

Instead of replying, you simply uncurl your fists and move your hands to ghost over your body. One starts at your neck, fingers barely grazing your skin. The other gently wraps around your breast, and you pinch at your nipple, mouth popping open in a tiny gasp. 

You can’t make yourself feel as good as Noah can, but this is really close, especially with his eyes—and a camera—on you. 

The hand at your neck trails down your body, passing your other breast, and instead moves to the middle of your stomach, where it splays out flat. You’re not purposefully covering yourself, but Noah growls unhappily nonetheless.

“Why are you hiding?” He asks. 

“I’m not.”

“I think you are,” he barks, leaning in closer. “Move your hand and spread your legs.”

“Noah,” you whine, thrashing nervously.

“C’mon, baby,” he beckons. “Show the camera what that pretty pussy looks like.”

You let out a shaky breath before removing your hand from your stomach, letting it drop down to the sheets again. After repositioning to lie straight in the middle of the bed, you pull your legs apart, bending your knees outward. 

You’re now on full display. Pretty, pink, and glistening with arousal. 

Noah’s breath catches, knuckles turning white as they grip the metal handle of the camera. He wants to reach out and touch you, run his fingers through your folds, cover them in your slick, and savor the taste as he licks them clean. You can tell he’s being good, keeping himself focused on getting every inch of you on film. There's no need to savor the moment when he can just record it, relive it over and over whenever he wants. 

“How do I look?” You ask, voice silky smooth as you barely reach over a whisper. 

Noah shakes his head in disbelief, letting out a long and uneven breath. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

His words make your head spin. No matter how many times he compliments you, it never gets old. Your muscles ache, legs threatening to close, but you reposition, pushing your hips up into the air to bring your core even closer to the lens. 

“Filthy girl,” Noah growls. “Touch yourself for me, for the camera.”

And you do. Fuck, you don't even hesitate. Two fingers slip inside with a soft squelch. Stretching around as you spread them apart wide, as far as they'll go. 

You peel your eyes away from the screen and let them wander to Bryan. He’s sitting completely frozen in place, focus glued to you from the past. His breathing is shallow, his chest barely rising and falling, and his hands are fixed perfectly to keep his true reaction just out of your view. You wet your bottom lip. 

Noah’s not watching the screen either; his attention going between you and his friend. He wants to know exactly how this is affecting both of you. He knows damn well that it's driving you crazy, making you desperate. The hand resting on your thigh releases its grip and instead wanders, teasing inward. You stiffen, turning your head to give him a look of warning—wide eyes and a quick shake of your head. 

Noah tuts, startling you and Bryan equally. 

“Why are you so stiff, princess?” He asks you, reaching his free hand up to your face, the back of his brushing against your flushed cheek. 

“Because,” you inhale. “Bryan’s watching me finger myself.”

The sentence feels foreign, practically insane, as you utter it. It makes Bryan twitch, which you only just barely see in your peripheral vision. 

“You said you wanted to show off,” Noah chuckles. “That's what you're doing.”

“Yeah, to you, to the camera. I never thought…” your words trail away, get stuck in your throat.

“You never thought one of our friends would want to watch.”

You nod, eyes softening. Noah coos, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You’re becoming pliant under his touch, and he knows it, using it to his advantage to slip his resting hand just under the waistband of your biker shorts, fingers tracing against your bare skin. 

“Are you enjoying it, Bryan?” Noah asks. 

Bryan nods, but his eyes stay glued to the screen where you’ve still got two fingers deep inside of yourself. You snort in awe, completely taken aback by just how focused and in a trance he is. 

“I’m sure you are,” Noah says smugly. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Bryan’s head whips over to Noah. Your recorded moans and whines fill the space, and while it should be so fucking awkward, it’s not. It’s far from it. Every sound in the video thickens the tension, almost making it tangible as if it were happening right now in this very room. 

“I—” Bryan hesitates, swallowing hard and meeting your eyes. “I’ve always wanted to see you.”

“See her do what?” Noah asks. He’s being a pushy asshole, teasing Bryan like this, but it’s working. He’s slowly unraveling out of his shyness. 

“Touch herself. Get fucked. All of it.” 

The tips of your ears go hot as ringing echoes through them. You don’t even know what to say, opening your mouth, but staying quiet. 

“It’s a beautiful sight,” Noah comments. “The camera doesn’t do it justice.”

Something flashes in Bryan’s eyes, a mix of mischief and curiosity. Electricity sparks through the small space between the three of you, making the hair on your arms stand up straight. It’s as if you all understand the gravity of the situation at the same time. You feel frozen in the realization as Bryan’s attention flicks right back up to Noah. He’ll have to get through your boyfriend first.  

“Please,” Bryan begs. 

There are so many words left unsaid, so much context missing, but there’s no need. You know what he’s asking for, what he wants to see. You expect Noah to tense up beside you or tell Bryan to fuck off. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his chin down to you. No fight, no denial. Well, fuck. That was easier than you expected. Does that mean he wants this, too? Wants Bryan to see what has been solely his for years? It’s all up to you to decide. And who the fuck are you to say no to something you’ve definitely fantasized about before? You’ve never told Noah that, of course. There have been a few times where you’ve been working with Bryan, running around venues together, and you’ve stopped to admire him as he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead, catching the tiniest hint of skin. You’ve seen him fully shirtless many times and even had the privilege of catching him in his boxers early in the morning on the bus. You’re just a girl with eyes. No one can blame you for looking. 

Noah’s territorial. He has never shown interest in sharing you in the slightest. But now, he’s changing his tune, and you have a chance to get something you’ve wanted. So you quickly nod in confirmation. 

“I want to,” you say, words catching in the dryness of your throat and making you swallow hard.

Noah chuckles softly. “Then you need to take these off.”

He’s tugging at your biker shorts, his fingers hooked over the top of them and already attempting to pull them down. You lift your hips and help him by shimmying them off and letting them pool at your feet. The kicker is, you’re not wearing panties underneath them. And you never do because no one wants to see underwear lines poking through tight cotton and spandex. 

Bryan’s breath catches harshly at the sight, his attention no longer on the video still playing. You look over at it, getting distracted by the sight of yourself with two of your own fingers plunged deep inside you. It’s empowering knowing that this footage has led you to this, and it leaves you in awe of yourself. 

Noah clears his throat. “Do I need to turn that off?”

“No!” You say quickly as you look away from it. “I mean—you can if you want.” 

“Is this about what I want?” 

Well, no. You guess it’s not. You look up at Noah through your eyelashes and shake your head.

“I have an idea,” Bryan says gruffly, cutting the conversation between the two of you short. “You should match exactly what you’re doing in the video. And if you do something wrong or different, you’ll be punished.”

All the air knocks right out of your lungs, making you lean against Noah’s side as dizziness hits. He doesn’t react, just simply slings an arm over your shoulder to steady you and places the other against your bare thigh, splaying his fingers out across soft, warm skin. 

“Do you actually think I’d let you touch her?” He asks calmly. 

Bryan bristles in his seat. “I’ll watch to make sure she’s following along. And you can punish her.” 

He doesn’t answer Noah’s question, but you all know the answer. He can look. He just can’t touch. Noah hums in approval at the idea. You desperately try to stay calm, but you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. This doesn’t feel real, and yet it’s happening. Noah’s fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, and he uses his grip to pry them apart. 

“You'd better get started then,” Noah says to you as he stands up, his fingers tracing along your body until they can’t anymore. You follow the feeling, arching yourself toward him. The absence of his warmth makes you whine, but you don’t protest. 

He only moves over to Bryan’s side of the aisle, leaning against the wall behind the built-in chair. Bryan stays exactly where he is, eyes glued to you. And you scramble, looking back to the laptop playing your literal sex tape. 

At this point in the video, you’re a mess, writhing against the sheets and babbling incoherently. Noah permits you to add a third finger, and you do without hesitation. This action makes you balk in real life, throwing your head up at Noah in exaggeration. 

“I’m supposed to match the video exactly?”

Noah shrugs nonchalantly, a Cheshire cat smile pulling at his lips. “It was Bryan’s idea.”

You narrow your eyes. “I haven’t had a chance to prep myself. Three fingers are a lot to start.” 

Noah crosses his arms over his chest and presses his mouth shut in a thin line. 

“Do you want Noah to punish you?” Bryan asks, making your eyes double in size as you sputter. When did he gain enough confidence to speak up? 

You shake your head desperately. “No, I don’t.”

“Then I suggest you watch the video and do exactly as she does,” he answers, leaning towards you slightly. “That shouldn’t be hard, right? It is only you from a few days ago after all.”

You force yourself to keep quiet and not give anyone a lick of attitude, no matter how badly you want to. Noah and Bryan are both just as pent up as you are, so god knows what would happen if you went against their wishes. So instead, you take a steadying breath and reposition yourself on the couch. Now that Noah isn’t beside you anymore, there is plenty of room to sprawl out. You press your back to the cushions and scoot up to position your head against the armrest. The bus sofas aren’t exactly meant for someone to stretch out on like this, so you’re a bit scrunched, but you make it work, bending your knees out to spread your legs apart. Your pussy is on full display to the two men watching you. Neither of them makes a sound or reacts in any way, but you can feel their eyes boring into your skin, setting it ablaze. 

There’s no need to waste any more time. Your desperation has become unbearable, and it shows in the way your fingers tremble as they skitter across the bare skin of your legs and reach your aching core. You bite at your bottom lip to hold back a whine as you rub your three digits along your folds, purposely coating them in as much of your arousal as possible. The sting is inevitable as you push them inside, but you go slow and let yourself get used to the feeling.

Bryan blows out a breath. “Fuck.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, lips parted as your breathing becomes shallow and choppy. 

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Noah asks him. 

“Stunning.”

You preen at their words, offering a lopsided smile as you spread your fingers apart and attempt to stretch yourself open. It’s not like three is a lot normally. You’re a bit of a size queen and often beg Noah to fist you or use an extra-large dildo when you need more. It’s just that this isn’t exactly how you pictured your relaxing afternoon. Without any preparation or even proper foreplay, you’re just being extra careful to make sure you stay feeling good. And right now, it’s heavenly as you begin to move and pump your fingers in and out, you go weightless, your head lolling against the armrest. Your eyes squeeze shut with a surge of pressure. 

Noah tuts loudly, startling you not enough for you to stop, but just enough that your eyes pop open and you look at him through the static and haze.

“How are you supposed to be sure you’re following along if your eyes are closed?” He asks, tilting his own head to mimic your position. 

He looks so good like this, simply standing there watching you. His hair is a mess atop his head, sticking up every which way. He’s wearing the sweatpants and tank top he slept in since neither of you bothered to get ready for this lazy day. His biceps constrict as he keeps his arms folded, veins protruding and cascading down to his hands. You want to lick them, feeling the thrum of his blood and his pulse and just him.

Instead, you look back at the video and watch as intently as possible.

Only the bottom half of your body is in the frame until Noah steps back, the camera shaking as he does so. It unfocuses for a second as the lens adjusts to the new distance, showing off all of you. Your legs are spread wide, feet digging into the sheets to keep yourself anchored. You trail your free hand up your body, from your legs to your stomach, fingers dragging across your skin as you dig your nails in. You move up to your breasts, grabbing at one of them and pinching your nipple between two fingers. A moan works up your throat. 

You mirror the motion, snaking your hand up your shirt and wrapping it around your breast. 

“You think that’s good enough?” Noah asks.

“What?” You whine. 

“In the video, you’re naked,” Bryan explains for him. “Completely.” 

The two of them ganging up on you should make you feel small, weak. There’s someone out there who would be humiliated by it. But you? You fucking love it. A wicked smile pulls at your lips. You reluctantly pull your fingers out of your pussy, letting out a tiny whine at the loss, and use both your hands to peel off your shirt. There will probably be a stain on it from how wet your fingers are, but that’s a problem for a different day. Hopefully, the venue tomorrow has a washing machine. To antagonize the boys, you throw your shirt at Bryan. It plops against his chest and lands in his lap. 

“Funny,” he quips with a smirk. You giggle as he uses a finger to pick it up and drop it to the floor. 

Bryan’s eyes never leave you as he shamelessly soaks in your bare skin. Your nipples are pebbled, pretty, pink, and hard.

“I never thought I’d see you like this,” he admits as he blows out a breath.

“Better take it all in now because it’s not happening again,” Noah speaks up. Bryan steels his expression as best as he can, but you see right through it as disappointment slumps his shoulders. 

“Don’t pout, Bry,” you murmur. “Just watch me.”

With that, you put your fingers right back where they were, squeezing around them in pleasure and using your other hand to play with your nipples again. The video plays on.

You fuck yourself with your fingers hard and fast, pulling them out and pushing them back in. Your eyes roll back in your head before they squeeze shut, and your mouth is open, jaw slack. 

This isn’t enough. You drop your hand from your breasts and immediately move it to your clit, rubbing fast circles into the sensitive bud. Between that and your fast rhythm fucking your fingers, your body begins to tighten up. 

“Noah,” you whimper in warning. “I'm close. So fucking close.” 

You open your eyes and look at the camera, staring right down the lens. 

Noah lets out an aroused groan. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. Cum for the camera. Show it how pretty you look when you let go.” 

And you listen to him, crying out loudly as your orgasm wracks through your body. 

Watching yourself cum feels surreal. You get lost in the right, pounding your fingers into yourself faster.

Noah tsks. Your movements stutter, and you give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can to try to soften the blow. It’s useless. He drops his arms to his sides in disappointment. 

“Now, princess,” he coos. “What is it that you’re doing wrong?” 

Like you don’t already know. 

“I can’t cum yet!” You whine. “I’m not close.”

“That’s too bad. Do you need some help?”

You perk up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

“Video off, Bryan,” he orders as he moves back over to you, leaving Bryan at the table by himself. 

Bryan listens, then hits the spacebar and closes his laptop. While that was fun, seeing it happen in real time is much better anyway. 

Noah must feel as desperate and hungry as you do. He grabs your legs and swings them over the cushion. “I’ll fuck you, but you can’t touch yourself or me. Hands above your head.”

It’s hardly a punishment when you’re this desperate and far gone. You oblige, lifting your arms and putting your hands on the armrest of the couch. 

Noah lets go of your legs long enough to push his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his cock. It springs up against his stomach for a moment, making you bite at your lip to stifle a moan. It doesn’t matter how many times you see him, something always stirs awake inside of you. His cock is perfect. When he’s hard like this, it’s just about seven inches, and his girth is enough to fill you up but not hurt. You love it, love the way he feels buried deep inside you. 

Noah reaches over to the counter that the couch is against. The bus’s front lounge isn’t very big. Most things are all compact and next to each other. It’s only then that you realize what your true punishment is. There are a few bowls on it with all sorts of stuff, like fruits and keys. The one he reaches for, however, makes you sit up.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

Noah doesn’t look at you. He knows you’re smart enough to have already put together what’s happening. He wants you to feel the disappointment. 

“Noah,” you whine as you watch him take a condom out of the bowl and rip it open.

“What, princess? You have to be punished, don’t you?”

You’re several years into your relationship with Noah, and it’s been a long time since you regularly used condoms. You both love the way it feels for him to take you raw, and you've been on birth control for a while. So there really is no use except for when he's trying to tease you. He’s going to give you what you want, but not quite allow you to feel it all. 

You watch him roll the condom onto his cock and keep a hand on his length, using it to guide himself into your aching pussy. When he pushes inside, you let out a whine. Not one of satisfaction, though. No, it's full of want and lust. You feel good, of course, but you know it can be more. 

Noah uses his other hand to grab your cheeks, pushing your lips together.

“Be fucking grateful,” he grits out, spitting in your face. You blink up at him but don't speak. “I'm fucking you in front of our friend. Don't pretend like you haven't wanted this.” 

He knows you so well. It's no surprise he's already aware that this is quite a fantasy for you. Nonetheless, blush spreads across your cheeks, down your neck, and covers your chest. 

Noah’s back is to Bryan, which means the other man can just barely see you. The moment Noah pushes forward and starts a pace, fucking you with abandon, Bryan groans. Your curiosity gets the best of you, eyes sliding past Noah’s shoulder and over to him sitting at the table. His legs are spread into a wide stance, one hand palming his erection through his jeans and the other balled into a fist at his side. You've never seen him like this, long hair disheveled, face completely flushed, pupils blown wide. 

You watch him with no shame, whimpering and whining from Noah fucking you, and also how hot Bryan looks right now. It's overwhelming, being between the two men like this, but you fucking love it. 

Noah’s still holding onto your face, eyes intently watching you. A harsh laugh bubbles up his throat when he realizes where your focus is. 

“Really?” He asks, voice gruff. “Are you watching Bryan? Do you want him to show you more?” 

You meet Noah’s eyes and let out a tiny noise of agreement. His lips curl into a smirk as he continues his pace, not looking away from you as he speaks. 

“Wanna show her, Bry?”

“Yeah,” he answers huskily, hastily unzipping his pants. He lifts his hips, lets the jeans, along with his boxers, drop to his ankles. He doesn’t bother to kick them off, just lets them pool on the ground. You whine at the sight of his cock. It’s not as big as Noah’s, but that doesn’t make you want it any less. 

He wraps a hand around his length, gripping it tightly. It’s obscene to watch the way he’s fucking into his fist, bucking forward. Heat pools in your stomach, tightening your muscles. 

“Oh, you like that? You like watching Bryan fuck himself? Now you know how he felt watching you, mhm?” Noah chimes in again, dropping his hold on your face to put his hands on either side of your hips. He uses the newfound grip to change his pace and drill into you, hunching over and mounting you properly. His hips snap forward, and the spot he hits inside of you is perfect. 

“Fuck!” You cry at the new sensations. 

You want to close your eyes, give in to the feeling, dig your nails into Noah’s back. But you can’t do any of it. Instead, you watch Bryan, who's staring back at you sharply, eyes tracing over every inch of your body to see exactly how you react to Noah’s punishing speed. Bryan’s sloppy, pumping himself with a sharp flick of his wrist. Noah’s grip on you is getting stronger, fingertips digging into your skin. 

All three of you are coiled so fucking tight, getting closer and closer to the edge. You’re probably the furthest away, though. You can feel it inching closer, but it’s just out of reach. It’s from the condom and your inability to touch what and where you want. There’s no pressure on your clit, just Noah fucking into your cunt harshly. He’s bottoming out, hitting deep into you with every thrust.

“You don’t get to cum until after Bryan and me. Understood?” Noah asks. 

You nod repeatedly, the words catching in your throat. 

It’s not much of a punishment since you know they’re both close. Groans spill from Bryan as he speeds up again, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate. You watch as streaks of white spill from the tip of his cock and down his tattooed hand. He relaxes, his body slumping against the cushion of the chair behind him. You give him a lopsided smile and finally let your eyes close, squeezing them tightly. 

Noah groans, breath stuttering. “I wish I could cum in this tight little pussy instead of a fucking condom, but you just had to disobey. Can you feel my dick twitching, princess? How close I am?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please cum for me. Please.”

Your words are all it takes. You can feel the warmth of Noah’s cum streaming into the condom, and it makes you wild. So wild, in fact, that you disobey his rule and drop your hand, pressing a few of your fingers into your clit and rubbing quick circles against it. Noah doesn’t stop you. He simply chuckles at your desperation and keeps himself buried inside of your pussy, staying still so he can watch you. You grind against his length as the pressure builds and builds. 

It hits you hard and fast and feels amazing. Your toes curl against the side of the couch, and a string of whispers escapes parted lips. It doesn’t last long, but it’s good, really good. You drop your hand when your orgasm is finally over and open your eyes to look at Noah. He smiles softly and slowly pulls out. You hiss at the loss, watching him carefully slide off the filled condom and discard it. The room smells like sex, and all three of you look like a mess. You wiggle to sit up and gather your clothes. Bryan coughs awkwardly as he situates himself, pulling his jeans back up. He grabs his laptop, tucking it under his armpit and standing up, walking toward the bunks and presumably the shower. 

“Hey, Bry,” you call out, making him stop in his tracks and look at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” 

“Keep the video,” you say with a wink.

Bryan rolls his eyes but gives you a smirk as Noah’s chuckles fill the room.

“Remember when the scariest thing we thought we’d ever deal with together was that spider in your bedroom?” Noah chuckled, squeezing your hand. 

“It was huge!” You chuckled, turning your head to face him. 

You were both sitting in the waiting room again, since it was finally time for your 12 week scan. You had been pacing around the house all morning, watching the clock until it was time to leave. Now you just had to sit and wait.

Nobody else knew about the pregnancy yet, it was just the two of you. It was your little secret, and you kinda liked it that way. You agreed not to tell anyone until after this scan, just to make sure everything is as it should be. You were equally as excited as you were terrified, and you could tell Noah was feeling the same. 

When you were finally called into the room, you noticed it was a lot dimmer than the last one. The blinds were half closed, and there was a bed in the center of the room, the sonographer- Mandy- welcomed you and Noah in, and explained how this scan was going to work. 

You nodded when she spoke, but you didn’t really hear anything she said, your heart was pounding too loudly. But Noah helped you up on the bed, and he stood beside you, lacing your fingers together. 

“Excited?” He asked, a little smile creeping onto his lips. 

You nodded. 

“And a little nervous. What about you?”

He just shrugged, trying to play it cool, but you both knew it was a lie. 

“Oh, y’know…” but before he could say anything, Mandy asked if you could pull your tshirt up a little. 

You noticed a while ago that the bump was slightly starting to show, and it was something Noah could never keep his eyes off of. Some nights in bed, when he thought you were asleep, you’d feel his hands snake over you to rest on the bump, holding it like he still couldn’t believe this was really happening. 

The gel was cold, and it caught you by surprise. You flinched a little, giggling as you gave Noah’s hand a squeeze, and he smiled, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. Then the wand pressed down, and the screen flickered. For one awful moment, there was nothing but static, and you swallowed hard… 

But then it appeared. 

“There,” Mandy smiled, adjusting the screen, “That’s your baby.” 

The entire world stopped moving in that moment. 

Sure, you knew what was growing inside you, a little person, but seeing it on the screen? A tiny shape, a head, it’s little limbs tucked in. your breath left in a shaky gasp as you held Noah’s hand even tighter. 

“Oh my god.” You whispered. 

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” Mandy asked, and you both immediately nodded your heads. 

She turned the volume up a little, and the sound of it filled the room. It was strong and fast, and your free hand flew to your mouth, happy tears beginning to spill out. You turned your head to look at Noah, and he was still staring at the screen. His eyes were glossy, his lips were parted, and you watched the smallest tear slip down his cheek. 

Then he turned to you, a smile on his face. 

“That’s our baby.” 

Our baby. 

“It almost looks like a potato.” He added, earning a wheeze from you. Trust him to ruin the moment.

“I guess it got your looks then.” You shot back with a grin, before turning to look at the screen again. 

God, you don’t ever want to look away. You don’t want to miss a thing. The baby wriggled a little, and the tiny movement made your heart flutter. 

“It’s moving.” You pointed out, and Noah let out a soft laugh. 

“I just can’t believe it’s real…” 

Before the appointment was over, Mandy took some measurements and explained everything to you- how the growth was perfect, the heartbeat was strong, everything was exactly how it should be for 12 weeks… but all you could focus on was the little shape on the screen. 

“How big would it be now?” Noah asked. 

“About the size of a plum.” Mandy answered, “Would you like me to print a scan photo for you?”

“Yes please.” You both answered with no hesitation. 

Mandy smiled as she pressed a few buttons, which printed a couple off. She then slid them into white envelopes before handing them over.

“Here, one for each of you,” she said. “You’re both doing great.”

Noah took his carefully, as if it was fragile, and you did the same. And every time you stared at the grainy little image, your chest hurt in the softest, most comforting way. 

A plum.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that, how small that really was, but how big at the same time. 

…

When you got back to Noah’s place, he sprawled out on the couch, taking the picture out to look at it again. 

“I can’t believe this isn’t just a dream,” he confessed, “I never thought I’d be so lucky to be having a baby… with the love of my life.” 

You rolled your eyes, despite the warmth in your chest. 

“Don’t get sappy on me, Noah. When we’ve been awake for 24 hours straight and we’re arguing over who’s going to change it, you won’t be calling yourself lucky anymore.” 

“Oh yes I will.” He shot back with a smug grin, before kissing your cheek. “I still can’t believe you’re growing our baby… that little thing,” he pointed at the picture, “Is in there!” He pointed at your belly. 

You rested your head on his shoulder, just replaying the day over and over- hearing the heart beat, seeing it move… you can’t believe you ever had doubts. Because now, this feels like all you’ve ever wanted. 

“Mandy said we’re doing a great job,” you eventually said, “But I don’t feel like we’re doing anything. Sure, I’ve been taking those vitamins you bought and cut back on caffeine… but other than that-”

“You’re keeping our baby safe,” Noah said, his voice soft, “You’re still getting through the day even though you’re feeling tired and nauseous, you’re doing everything those articles online said… I’m the one who feels useless.” He chuckled, but your brows drew together. 

“Hey, you’re the one reason I’m getting through this.” You frowned, “You sit with me when I feel like I’m gonna be sick and you make me toast at stupid hours of the night because it’s the only thing I can stomach. You know how to calm me down when I get scared and try to cancel appointments- you come with me to the appointments, you don’t let me do it alone… you’re not useless, Noah.” 

He swallowed, then looked back down at the scan photo in his hand. 

“I just wish I could do more. I wish it was physically possible for me to take some of it off of you, the sickness, the tiredness, the fear… you know I’d trade with you in a heartbeat if I could.”

With a soft sigh, you frowned and kissed his cheek, before reaching for his free hand, and guiding it down to your stomach. His breath hitched the moment he felt the bump through your shirt. 

“You’re here, and you’re trying your best… that’s more than what a lot of dads can say.” You whispered, “This bump, this little plum sized, alien-looking baby in here, is going to have the best dad in the world. And never for one moment is it ever going to think you weren’t doing enough.” 

When you looked up to meet Noah’s eyes again, they were glassy, his vision blurred with tears. His bottom lip was slightly pouted, he almost looked like a sad puppy…

“Babe, don’t say shit like that to me.” He shook his head, and you couldn’t help but smile as you pulled him closer, cradling his head as he let himself softly sob into your chest. “I think your pregnancy hormones are getting to me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“That’s not how it works, Noah.”

…

Once the two of you were getting ready for bed that night, with Noah’s roommate Jesse playing guitar down the hallway for background noise, you spotted a little box on his desk. You inspected it whilst Noah was in the bathroom… it was a polaroid camera?

“I swear,” Noah said, walking back into the room with his toothbrush in his mouth, “If one of the guys use my- oh shit I forgot I bought that!” 

“A camera, huh?” You smirked. 

“I thought we could take some cute bump pictures with it for each trimester, like the girls on pinterest do.” 

You chuckled, putting the box back on the desk. 

“Since when do you look at what the girls on pinterest do?” You teased, pulling back the covers and sighing as you sprawled out on your back, laying in a starfish position. 

“Enjoy it whilst it lasts.” He said, and you furrowed your brows, was he still talking to you?

“Huh?”

“Laying on your back. After a certain point you can only be a side sleeper, babe.” He said before he started to walk down the hallway to the bathroom again, “But don’t worry, I’ll get you a pregnancy pillow!” 

“Noah!” You hissed. 

“What?!” You heard him spit his toothpaste in the sink and rinse. 

“Your roommates could’ve heard!” You narrowed your eyes on him when he walked back in, “What happened to keeping a secret.” 

“Shit, sorry.” He chuckled, liar, “When is the right time to tell them though? We’ve had the first scan now, everything seems to be fine- and surely your friends will notice the bump soon?”

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment whilst he climbed into bed beside you. 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, “Part of me wants to scream it from the rooftops and tell everyone right now… but I’m still scared of jinxing it. I’m scared that if we get too excited… something might go wrong.”

Noah nodded his head, laying on his side, facing you. 

“I know, baby. We can wait as long as you want… until the time’s right.” 

You nodded your head, turning on to your side too, to face him.

“I think I want to tell the girls soon,” you said after a moment, “Jess and Maya, I think they’re already suspicious. Then there’s Steve and Linda, I just know Steve’s going to lose his mind!” 

Noah chuckled, his hand finding your waist. 

“I can’t wait to tell the guys…” he admitted, “Ruffilo has to be the first. Ever since we were kids we told each other everything, I hate keeping this from him.” 

You smiled softly. 

“We should get everyone together and tell them at the same time.” 

Noah nodded his head. 

“Mm, I like your thinking.” He smirked, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

You both laid there for a while, still cuddling even long after Noah switched the lamp off, but neither of you were asleep. You were tucked into him, your head against his chest, his arms around you.

But then Noah carefully shifted beneath you, his hand sliding from your back to your side, then hovering near your stomach for a moment. 

“Babe, can I ask you something a little stupid?”

“When has that ever stopped you?” You smiled against his bare chest.

He huffed a quiet laugh, then hesitated again. 

“Can you ever feel it in there? I mean, do you feel it moving around?”

You let out a soft, almost breathy chuckle.

“No, babe, I think it’s still too small.” You said, your hand coming down to your belly as you continued, “I didn’t even know it could move yet, but I saw it bouncing around during the scan. Yet I didn’t feel a thing.”

Noah was quiet for a moment, his eyes glued to your hand.

“…Can I touch it?” He asked quietly, “The bump?”

You lifted your head a little to look at him, and gave him a sleepy smirk. 

“That’s not up to me, that’s up to the bump.” 

His eyebrows shot up, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Oh?”

You nodded your head, trying your best to stay serious.

“It’s very selective.”

He scoffed softly. 

“Of course it’s got your attitude.”

“Absolutely,” you shot back, then you softened again, reaching for his hand and guiding it back to your stomach. You even tugged your top up a little, so he could feel your skin against his. “Go on.”

He froze the second his palm made contact, because now he knew what it looked like in there, it was like seeing on the scan made it really real. He swallowed, his eyes glued to the spot where his hand rested, his thumb brushing ever so carefully.

You watched him with soft eyes, your heart melting as his thumb traced a tiny circle.

“What do you think it is in there? A boy or a girl?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about that.” You chuckled. 

“Seriously?” He asked with a light chuckle, before his voice softened again, “When can we find out?” 

“I’m not too sure.” You said, resting your hand over his. “Maybe we should ask at the next appointment.” 

Noah nodded his head. 

“When’s that… 6 weeks from now or something?”

“I think so.” You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. 

…

“Okay…” Noah said, standing up from his spot on the couch. 

Your house had been taken over by his friends- Matt, Nick, Folio, Jolly, Jesse, Bryan and Davis, some of them sprawled out over the couch, some leaning against the wall, some sat on the floor with their legs stretched out in front of them- whilst Jess and Maya sat quietly in the corner with you, on the beanbag chairs you bought when you first moved in but never used until now. 

You caught Noah’s eye, the both of you exchanging a small smile before you rose to your feet too. You both crossed the room, meeting half way, coincidentally right in front of the TV, making Folio groan that he couldn’t see.

“You guys are probably wondering why you’re all here-”

“Oh c’mon!” Matt butted in, “Just say it! You’re getting married!” 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, and Noah shook his head. 

“No, we-”

“You’re moving out?” Jesse suddenly beamed, “Does that mean I get the big bedroom?”

“No!” Noah insisted, dragging a hand down his face. 

You looked at everyone in the room, swallowing hard. Just say it…

“We’re having a baby.” You announced, a smile spreading across your face as you held Noah’s hand. “I’m almost four months pregnant!” 

The whole room went dead silent. Jesse’s smile dropped, Matt’s smirk faded, Maya’s brows drew together. 

“This is a prank, right?” She asked, disbelief written all over her face. “You’re not really… I mean-”

“We’re having a baby.” Noah said simply, reaching into one of the drawers of your TV unit, pulling out the envelope with the scan picture. “We didn’t want to say anything too soon, not until we decided what we were gonna do, and when we were sure the baby’s healthy-”

“You’re keeping it?” Davis asked with a scoff, “Dude, are you sure?” 

“Yes!” Noah said, his voice rising a little, getting defensive. “What? You think this is a bad idea? We’re not ready? We’re not capable?” 

The room fell silent again, until Folio spoke up. He didn’t look angry or annoyed, just a little uncomfortable, which somehow felt even worse.

“I just… don’t get it.” He said, “Like, no offence to either of you, but this isn’t exactly the best timing. Things are gonna start getting busy as hell with the band, that big tours coming up, and you’re throwing a baby into the mix?”

Big tour? What big tour-

“I’m not throwing anything into the mix.” Noah answered. “This is our life. You think we planned this?”

“Come on, dude,” Jesse let out a short humourless laugh, “You seriously think this won’t have any impact on your band? You’re the front man, you write, you sing, you produce, how are you gonna be able to think about any of that? And like Folio said, the tours, the travelling, and then there’s paying for-”

“We know.” You spoke up finally. “We’ve talked through everything. Every possible situation. You think people with kids don’t have careers? Noah can still tour, he can still write and record and do whatever he does, because I’m here too!! It’s not like he’s doing it alone!!” 

You could feel yourself starting to lose your cool, Jess and Maya must’ve noticed it too as they exchanged a look. And then Matt opened his big stupid mouth. 

“Look, none of us are saying you can’t do it, we’re just trying to make you realise… this is a lot. Kids are forever. This isn’t like getting a dog.” 

That fucking did it. 

You had to leave the room before you said or did something you’d regret. You dropped Noah’s hand, shaking your head. 

 “I just need a second.” You said just loud enough for him to hear, already turning away.

The room suddenly felt too small, too loud, too difficult to breathe in. And every word they’d said was echoing in your head- timing, tour, band, impact, forever.

You stepped into the kitchen, not realising you were being followed, until the door clicked shut behind you a second later. 

You turned to see Noah, who was already trying to read your face. But for just a second, neither of you spoke. You braced your hands on the counter, staring down at the marble, trying to figure out what the fuck your were doing. 

Noah softly said your name, asking if you were okay, but you just let out an unsteady breath of laughter.

“What if they’re right?”

“No.” He was at your side in seconds. “They’re not.”

“But what if they are?” You turned to face him, your eyes glossy as they looked up into his. “What if this is bad timing? What if I just… ruined everything for you?”

His expression changed then, he looked hurt- not at you, but at what you were thinking.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“They kept saying it’s your life,” you whispered. “Your career. Your band. Your tour. Like I’m just… nothing. I’m just the girl who got pregnant and now you have to deal with it.”

“You know that is not what this is.”

“But that’s how they’re making it sound,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. “Like I trapped you into something.”

Noah stepped closer, hands gently gripping your arms to stop you from spiralling any further.

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, but then you did.

“I want this,” he said, firmly. “We chose this together. We did this together. Nobody trapped me or forced me to do anything. I know I might seem like it sometimes- but baby, I’m not some helpless idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I can speak for myself, I can make my own choices.”

Your bottom lip trembled. 

“But the tour-”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“The band?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“The money?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he repeated, softer now. “Babe, all my friends in there- they’re shocked,” he said. “That’s all. It’s big news. They’re thinking practically, and stupidly.” He exhaled. “We’ve known about this for months now, we’ve had time to come up with a plan, they’re only just hearing about it now. And they’re not the ones who have to live our life. We are.”

You shook your head. 

“It just felt like they were blaming me.”

That hit him.

He stepped even closer, hands sliding down to take yours, pressing them flat against his chest so you could feel his heartbeat.

“If anyone in that room thinks this is just on you,” he said quietly, “Then they don’t know me at all.”

You searched his face, still unsure.

“They’re acting like it’s my future on the line?” he continued. “Okay. Fine. It is. But you’re risking your life for this. For our baby. That’s why it was your choice, and that’s why I’ll be by your side forever, through the whole thing. Because I want this. I want you, and I want our baby to have the best life we could possibly give it.” His thumbs brushed over your knuckles. “So if they want to act like this is some burden or mistake… then they don’t get to be part of it.”

“Noah-“

“No. I mean it,” he said. “If they can’t be supportive, if they’re gonna make you doubt yourself or feel small, then they don’t get to be a part of our kids life. They don’t get to show up later and play the fun uncle role when it suits them.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he continued. 

“They either respect it,” he said, “Or they’re not involved. It’s simple. If I have to be the asshole that cut off his shitty friends because they couldn’t respect what I wanna do, then I will.”

The protectiveness in his voice made your heart squeeze in your chest. 

“You’d really do that?” You asked softly.

“For you? For our family? In a heartbeat.”

You looked down at your stomach instinctively, your hands hovering there. It had become a habit now, without even realising, you’d feel your hands drift down. 

“But they’re your best friends. I don’t want to be the reason you lose them.” You whispered. 

“You’re not,” he said immediately. “If I lose anyone, it’ll be my choice because they couldn’t show up for me when I needed them.”

He gently lifted your chin so you had to meet his eyes.

“Tell me. Do you want this?” He asked, not accusing you or anything, he just needed the truth. “Do you really want this, a family with me?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

“Then that’s it,” he said. “That’s all that matters to me.”

You let out a shaky breath and stepped forward, pressing your forehead to his chest. His arms wrapped around you in an instant, comforting and warm and safe.

“They’re just shocked,” he whispered into your hair. “They’ll calm down. And if they don’t… we’ll build our own circle.”

You nodded slowly.

“Our own little family.” You whispered back, and he kissed the top of your head. 

“Exactly.”

After a moment, he leaned back slightly, just enough to look at you. 

“Do you wanna go back in there?”

You took a deep breath as you nodded your head. 

“Yeah,” you said. “But if Matt says one more thing about dogs, I won’t be held responsible for what I do.”

Noah huffed a laugh, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

Noah took your hand and pulled the kitchen door open… and when you stepped back into the living room, everyone was gathered around your scan pictures. 

“So is that an arm or a leg?” Maya asked, pointing at the photo. 

“Shit, it’s got Noah’s forehead.” Nick chuckled. 

“Poor kid.” Folio laughed. 

“Hey!” Noah crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to be offended. They all turned their heads. “You guys have changed your tune.”

“I might’ve made them realise just how much this means to you two.” Jess said, looking up at the two of you. “And I’ve always wanted to be an auntie.” 

Your bottom lip quivered, and you crossed the room in a few steps, wrapping your arms around your best friend. 

And at that moment, in a room filled with some of the most important people in your lives, you knew this baby was going to the most loved and cared for little person in the world.

There was just one more person you had to tell.

Uncle Steve.

----------------------

Today was just like any other- except Noah had band rehearsals, so instead of going to work and opening up with no mechanic, you worked from home. You didn’t think anything felt off or unusual. You didn’t feel different in yourself- you did notice you were a little irritable, and your breasts felt a little tender but that was normal for you before your period would start so you didn’t overthink it, the same as the mood swings and tiredness. You all put it down to being due on your period. 

It was only when you received a text from Noah that you realised something may be wrong. 

Noah: Hey baby, I'm on my way back in a minute. I know I said I’d be there at 6 but we were having some problems with Jolly’s guitar… 

Noah: It’s that time of the month soon, isn’t it? Want me to pick up some pads on the way back? 

Noah: I love you <3

Your brows furrowed, and before you replied, you quickly checked the dates. 

Hmm… you were supposed to start your period just over two weeks ago, and it was very rare for you to be late. 

You: Yes please! You know which ones I use right?

You: I love you too. Drive safe <3

You sent the texts anyway, trying not to overthink. Everything was probably fine, your period must just be late.

…But you do let Noah fuck you without a condom, and the birth control you’re on isn’t 100% effective. 

Shit shit shit!

*Ding!*

Noah: Yeah I got you. Same ones as always 

Noah: Be back soon baby ❤️

You stared at your phone for a long moment after the texts appeared… you thought about sending a reply, asking him to pick up a pregnancy test too, but you didn’t want to risk it. You didn’t want to scare him just in case it was nothing. 

So you didn’t, you just set your phone face down on the kitchen counter and pressed your palms flat against the surface.

Two weeks… that’s nothing, right? Maybe you were just stressed? You had enough on your plate already with work and with Steve still being in the hospital… maybe the stress from that was the reason behind it? Yeah, that had to be it!

You tried to convince yourself that was the reason, but when you’d been late in the past you knew for certain it was only late, and it had only been a few days back then. Not weeks. 

Fuck, you felt sick, your stomach twisted and you quickly reached into the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with water before taking slow sips. 

You're just overthinking! You told yourself. But what if you’re not? You also thought…

You grabbed your phone again, and did what you probably shouldn’t have done. You didn’t know how to word the thoughts in your head, so you searched “how late can a period be before you should worry” and the answers weren’t helping you whatsoever. 

1-7 days late: there’s no real cause for concern, often considered normal due to stress, diet or cycle fluctuations. 

7+ days late: you should take a pregnancy test if you are sexually active. 

Fuck. 

You gripped the counter again, shaking your head like you could shake the fear away. 

“No.” You said under your breath, tossing your phone back onto the counter again, “No, no, no…”

You found yourself pacing the kitchen as if that would do anything to help you. You couldn’t help but worry about how this could fuck everything up- not just for you but for Noah too, massively. God, you weren’t even officially a couple yet, you’ve never even talked about whether you want kids- what if he didn’t want it and you did? What if he wanted it and you didn’t?

You weren’t sure how long you were pacing for, but it wasn’t long before you heard Noah pull up on your driveway. You swallowed hard and tried to compose yourself, you took another sip of water before you heard his keys in the door, and you forced a smile as you wandered over to the door to greet him. 

Noah stepped inside with a plastic bag in one hand, his keys in the other. He slipped his keys into his jacket pocket before hanging it up, then he kicked his shoes off. His hair was a little messy, like it usually was when he came home from rehearsals. 

“Hey, babe.” He said with a smile when he spotted you standing there. 

“Hey.” You replied, hoping your voice sounded normal. 

He leaned down and kissed you, one hand settling on your waist. You kissed him back, forcing yourself not to overthink it. He then pulled back and lifted the bag up between you. 

“Got your stuff,” he said, “They didn’t have the usual pack you get, but there was a lady looking at the same things  so I asked her which ones were the most similar, so I hope that’s okay.” 

You nodded quickly. 

“Yeah that’s fine,” you said, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” He smiled, placing the bag down on the kitchen counter. 

You followed him into the kitchen and watched him grab a can of pepsi from the fridge. 

“You eaten yet?” He asked as the fridge closed. 

You shook your head.

“No, I’m not really hungry.” You said, earning a hum from him. He took a sip of his drink before studying your face… he could tell something was up. 

“You okay?” He tried to ask casually, but you could hear the softness in it, like he was a little concerned. 

“Yeah!” You answered a little too quickly, “I’m just tired, y’know. I’ve been working from home all day, staring at the laptop has given me a headache.” 

He gave you a small nod, as if to say he understood, but a part of him was still trying to decide if he believed you. 

“Come here.” He said, putting his can down on the counter and opening his arms.

You stepped into him, letting him wrap his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth, his scent, like he was shielding you from the world for a moment. His hand rubbed slowly up and down your back in the comforting way he always did when he thought you were stressed, and it always helped. You closed your eyes and pressed your face into his hoodie, breathing him in like it might just calm you. 

You should tell him the truth. The sooner the better, right? Surely he wouldn’t be mad, this was Noah after all… 

“You’re warm.” He whispered into your hair, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“That’s how bodies usually work, Noah.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirked, squeezing you before pulling back. “I’m gonna shower real quick, it got a little sweaty in Folio’s basement.” 

You nodded, grateful for the temporary escape. 

“Okay.” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and left it on the kitchen table before heading towards the bathroom, but he paused just by the stairs to glance at you. 

“Are you sure you’re good?”

You forced a small smile. 

“I’m fine, Noah. Go take a shower, you stink!” 

He chuckled, shaking his head before making his way up the stairs. You heard the bathroom door shut, then the shower turned on a moment later… and that was when your composure cracked again. 

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the bag sitting only a few inches away from you. You slowly reached inside and pulled out the pack of pads, staring at the bright packaging, and it only reminded you… two weeks.

Your gaze then drifted towards the stairs, where Noah was upstairs. You could almost picture him in there, his head tipped back under the water, humming to some tune, oblivious to what was happening down in the kitchen. 

You put the pads down again and pressed your lips together, refusing to cry. You couldn’t possibly ruin his life with this… what if it destroyed the two of you too?

The shower shut off a few minutes later, and you quickly wiped your face where a few tears had slipped. You moved toward the living room and dropped down onto the couch, grabbing your phone just so you could look a little more normal. 

Noah appeared a couple minutes later with damp hair and your favourite pair of loose grey sweatpants. Nothing else. He flopped onto the couch beside you with a grunt, throwing one arm behind your shoulders. 

“You wanna watch something?” He asked. 

“Sure.” You said, looking up from your phone. 

He grabbed the remote and scrolled though the options, he was saying something about how you’ve almost watched most of the movies on your watchlist, and then he made a couple comments about some of the shows. You were nodding your head, but you were barely registering anything he was saying.  

Eventually he settled on something random, tossing the remote aside as he stretched out beside you.

Without thinking, you leaned slightly toward him, and he pulled you closer. Your head rested against his shoulder and his fingers started tracing little patterns against your arm. 

You tried to focus on the show, you really did, but your mind kept drifting back to what ifs.

“…You’re really quiet tonight.” He noted quietly. 

“Like I said, I’m just tired.” You said softly.

He hummed, and didn’t push. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You swallowed, staring at the TV without watching it. 

…

One minute, Noah was telling you about how a certain scene in the movie was shot, and the next… he’d gone quiet. His hand grew heavier where it rested against your arm, so you tilted your head slightly, glancing up at him.

His eyes were closed. His breathing had evened out, and he was snoring softly- he was completely out.

You smiled softly. Careful not to wake him, you shifted just enough to look at him properly. His head had tipped slightly toward you, his half dried hair fell across his face. His lips were parted slightly, and in the dim light of the living room you could see the scar left behind from the lip piercing he had gotten many years ago…

You reached up gently, brushing the hair away from his eyes. He stirred for a second, his arm instinctively tightening around you before settling again. You stayed like this for a while, listening to the TV drone quietly in the background, listening to him breathe, letting yourself pretend everything felt normal.

And then you felt a strange yet familiar damp sensation in your pants…

Your stomach flipped, your heart lurched into your throat. You froze, barely breathing as you focused on it. That warm, uncomfortable feeling usually meant one thing- your period. Relief rushed through you so suddenly it almost made you dizzy.

Oh thank god!!

You carefully shifted out from under Noah’s arm. He grumbled softly, turning slightly into the couch cushion but not waking.

“Sorry.” You whispered, even though he couldn’t hear you.

You grabbed the bag with the pads from the kitchen counter on your way towards the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. You shut the bathroom door gently behind you, switching the light on. The brightness made you squint for a second as you set the bag down on the sink.

Your heart was racing as you quickly tugged your leggings down- 

And then you stilled. Your brain took a second to process what you were seeing…

There was nothing? No blood? 

Just to make sure, you checked the tissue after you wiped and still, there was nothing there…

Your stomach dropped. Your hands felt like they weren’t yours as you slowly pulled your leggings back up, your reflection catching your eye in the mirror as you stood. Your mind immediately started racing, jumping to conclusions faster than you could stop it.

Your period was late, you’ve been feeling nauseous and exhausted, and there were the mood swings you’d been brushing off as stress… you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Okay. Okay.

You needed to know. You couldn’t just sit with this feeling clawing at your chest all night while Noah slept peacefully six feet away from you. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Noah hadn’t moved. He was still sprawled across the couch, one arm stretched across the cushions where you’d been laying, a little patch of drool where his mouth hung open, his chest rose and fell slowly, peacefully.

Your chest ached looking at him. There’s no way he was ready to be a parent.

You stepped closer, and looked down at him, studying his face again. Oh how he looked so pretty when he slept.

Your fingers hovered before gently pulling the throw blanket over him, covering his shoulders. He shifted a little and mumbled something incoherent… and when you were sure he wouldn’t wake, you leaned down, and pressed the softest kiss against his forehead.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered, even though you knew he still couldn’t hear you.

You stood quickly before you could change your mind, grabbing your car keys and your jacket from the chair. You glanced back at him one more time as you opened the door, then carefully, you stepped out. 

The air was cold tonight, making you wrap your arms around yourself as you headed to your car, your hands trembling as you pulled the door open. 

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel as you took a second to just breathe and collect your thoughts. Just go to the store, pick up a test. That’s it. It’s not difficult, people do this every day! 

So, with one last deep breath, you drove off. 

…

The sliding doors whooshed open rather loudly, warm air and the subtle smell of bread from the bakery hit you immediately as you stepped in. You kept your head down as you pretended to look down the other aisles on your way to the health section. 

The pregnancy tests sat exactly where they always had been. You’d been in this very store a few years ago buying a test for Jess when she had her first pregnancy scare, and you didn’t feel half as afraid back then. 

But this time, knowing it was you taking the test, it made your stomach turn. 

Your fingers hovered over one before pulling back. What if someone saw you? You’d lived in this town your whole life, what if an old teacher from school happened to spot you? An old friend? One of Noah’s friends? What if they knew?

You glanced around quickly. An older man was looking at cough syrups, a couple of teenage girls were pointing at the makeup display- nobody was paying attention to you… so you grabbed a box and quickly spun on your heels, almost walking straight into a shelf as you made your way to the self checkout. 

You scanned the test and tapped pay, then you shoved the box into your jacket pocket and left, not bothering with a receipt, you just needed to be out of here. You just needed to take the test and find out… 

But you didn’t want to do that it home. You didn’t want there to be any evidence, and you didn’t want Noah to find you crying in the bathroom if the worst was to happen. You wanted to break it to him in your own time if it was positive… so you drove around until a brightly lit building came into view. 

It was a 24 hour diner, one you had gone to with the girls after a night out because nowhere else was open and Maya wanted a sandwich. You parked up outside and glanced inside, there were only a few people in there… this should be fine!

You hesitated for a second before forcing yourself out of the car and walking towards the entrance. A little bell chimed when you pushed the door open, and you were hit by a smell that made you feel a little sick. 

You glanced around until you spotted the bathroom, and your heart pounded with every step towards it. Your stomach churned as you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Okay. This is it. 

You reached into your pocket, pulling out the box and turning it over in your hands. 

Only a few months ago, you fucking hated Noah… and now you were taking a pregnancy test? 

Your fingers fumbled with the box, the cardboard bending slightly as you ripped it open. The instructions slid out with the test stick, landing in the sink. You caught it in one shaky hand, and tried to read it… it seemed pretty straight forward. You can do this. 

You locked the stall door behind you, and pulled your leggings down again. You followed the instructions, your hands trembling so badly you almost dropped the test into the toilet.

When you finished, you stared down at it in your palm, your heart racing in your chest. You slid the cap back on to it and set it on the flat metal toilet paper holder whilst you waited for the results. You checked the time on your phone… three minutes.

And in the meantime, you just sat there, frozen still. You stared straight ahead at the stall door, your elbows on your knees. You tried counting the tiles on the floor. One, two, three, four-

But your mind kept drifting. Drifting back to this morning, laying next to Noah in bed, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. His cheeky smile when he’d catch you staring at him when he was working. The way he kissed you like you meant the world to him… 

You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t ruin your lives… neither of you were ready for something like this. You never really talked about the future, Noah was more of a live in the moment kind of guy. The only thing he saw in his future- as far as you knew- was the band. You couldn’t tie him down with a kid?!

When you checked your phone again, you realised enough time had passed, and you knew you had to look. You stared at the floor for another few seconds, then you took a deep breath and reached for the test.

At first, your brain didn’t register it. You thought you were just seeing double. 

Because there were two pink lines…

Your hand flew to your mouth as a broken breath escaped you.

“No…” You whispered, though it wasn’t denial, it was more disbelief, like your brain just couldn’t process the information fast enough.

You leaned forward, bringing it closer to your face and inspecting it again like maybe the angle was wrong? Maybe the lighting was weird? Maybe your eyes were tricking you?

But no matter what you did, it didn’t change. The lines- the two lines- were there, clear as day. 

Your vision blurred suddenly as tears filled your eyes, slipping over your lashes before you even realised you were crying. A shaky laugh left your lips, fragile and broken, immediately turning into a sob you tried to swallow down.

“Oh my god…”

Your hand drifted instinctively toward your stomach, pressing flat against your lower abdomen through the fabric of your clothes. It felt the same, like nothing was there yet, nothing you could feel… 

And yet, you were growing something. You were growing someone.

A mini you and Noah…

The thought hit you like a tidal wave, crashing through and breaking down every defence you had built in your mind. Your chest ached as a thousand emotions hit you all at once- fear, shock, panic, wonder, disbelief… and something that made your stomach flip in a completely different way… 

Like maybe you didn’t completely hate the idea… because when you held your hand over your tummy, your heart felt warm and fuzzy. 

Your tears fell harder at that, slipping down your cheeks as guilt immediately followed. You weren’t supposed to like it, you weren’t supposed to want this!! You were both young, you weren’t ready, you both had plans and dreams that didn’t involve staying in this town or figuring out how to raise a child while Noah and his band scraped together enough money to survive gig to gig. This would change everything, it could ruin everything… 

But at the same time, what if it didn’t?

Your shoulders shook as another sob left you. How did this happen? You thought to yourself, even though you knew exactly how.

Memories flashed through your mind, late nights tangled together, laughter, the way he always loved to finish inside and neither of you thought too hard about consequences because you thought you were safe. You were on birth control. But clearly, it wasn’t effective enough. 

Your gaze dropped back to the test in your hand, your breath hitching as you stared at those two tiny lines that had just changed the rest of your life. You didn’t know if you were happy, you didn’t know if you were devastated. You just knew you felt everything, all at once. 

…

You shivered as you unlocked your car and slid into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a soft thud, and for a moment, you just sat there. You had thrown the test and the box in the bin before leaving the bathroom, you couldn’t risk Noah potentially seeing it and asking questions you weren’t ready for yet. You wanted to know what you wanted to do about it before telling him, you knew he wouldn’t influence you one way or another, but you wanted to be sure of yourself. 

So you drove home slowly, because your mind couldn’t focus on anything other than those two lines, and how the fuck you’d tell Noah, because the thought of it made you feel sick. 

What if he panicked? What if he told you it wasn’t the right time? What if he blamed you? What if he thought you’d trapped him? What if he pulled away completely? What if he left you? The only person you’ve ever let yourself be vulnerable around, the only person you have ever let into your life and loved on such a deep level… 

You inhaled shakily.

But what if he was happy?

That possibility scared you just as much.

You pulled onto your street before you could spiral any further. Your stomach twisted tighter with every second closer to your driveway.

His car was still there, parked a little crooked but it was there… so you parked beside it, turning the engine off but not moving straight away. The silence that followed was loud and suffocating. You rested your forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing your eyes shut.

Just go in. Act normal until you know what to say, until you know what to do. 

You grabbed your keys and got out of the car.

You unlocked the door and stepped in, you carefully slipped your shoes off and hung your jacket up. You expected to see him asleep, still curled up on the couch with the TV on, snoring loudly-

“Hey.” 

You froze slightly, your gaze snapping toward the living room.

Noah was sitting up on the couch, one arm resting along the back cushion, the TV paused in front of him. The lamp light cast soft shadows across his face, his hair messy the way it always was after a nap… but then you saw the way that relief softened his features when you met his eyes. 

“There you are,” he said, his voice rough with sleep but warm. “Where’d you disappear to? I woke up and you were gone.”

Your stomach dropped, but the lie came out easier than you expected.

“Maya needed picking up,” you said, forcing your tone to stay casual as you stepped further into the room. “She was on a date, had a bit too much to drink and didn’t wanna call a cab.”

He gave you a small smile. 

“Again?” he chuckled, rubbing his eyes briefly. “You’re like that girl's personal driver.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head. “I like to know she’s safe."

He gave you a little smile, shaking his head slightly.

“I waited up for you.” He admitted softly, glancing toward the clock on the wall like he’d just realised how late it was himself.

Your heart squeezed at the words.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

He just shrugged.

“I wanted to.”

He shifted a little and patted the space beside him on the couch in a silent invitation. You hesitated for a second before walking over, sinking down beside him. He instinctively leaned into you, his arm sliding around your shoulders, and you let yourself melt into him. 

“You look tired.” He whispered. 

“I am.” 

He studied your face for a second longer than usual, his brows pulling together like he was trying to read you… you swallowed hard, but then he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Wanna go to bed, baby?” 

“Yeah… that sounds good.”

He squeezed your shoulder before standing, stretching slightly as he grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, then he held his hand out to you. You stared at it for a second before placing yours in it, letting him pull you up from the couch. His fingers laced with yours, and he walked you up the stairs and into the bedroom…

You changed into your pajamas, keeping your back turned slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice how carefully you avoided catching his eye. He stripped down to his boxers like he always did, completely at ease, completely unaware. While you stood there in just your bra, you took a quick glance in the mirror… you couldn’t tell if there was the tiniest bump there, or if you were just a little bloated. But you quickly threw your top on and turned around, climbing into the bed, facing the wall. 

He slid into bed beside you, shuffling closer until his arm draped loosely across your waist, his face pressing into the back of your shoulder.

“You’re so cold.” He whispered sleepily against your neck, tugging you closer.

“You’re just always hot.” You shot back with a little smile despite the feeling in your chest, and he hummed in response, already half asleep. 

But you knew sleep wasn’t coming easy for you tonight. You stared at the wall in front of you, your eyes wide open in the darkness.

Your hand slowly slid down to rest over your stomach again, hidden beneath the blankets and his arm. You blinked hard as tears slipped silently into your pillow, your lips pressing together to keep your breathing quiet.

You wanted to turn around, to wake him up and tell him everything… to ask him what you should do… to ask him if he felt just a little excited too. 

But instead, you stayed still, letting him hold you as sleep pulled him deeper under, and you laid wide awake, staring into the dark, wondering how something so terrifying could also make you feel so warm inside.

… 

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you must’ve done at some point as you woke up to the sun creeping through the little gap in the curtains. For a brief second after waking up, you forgot all about last night, but when you felt Noah’s hand resting over your tummy it all came rushing back. 

What the fuck do you do about this? How do you tell him?

You couldn’t think about it for long, because as if he sensed you were awake, Noah shifted behind you.

He pulled you closer, his face pressed into your neck, his nose brushing your skin as he inhaled sleepily. 

“Morning, baby.” His voice was rough with sleep. 

“Morning.” You whispered back.

He kissed your shoulder lazily, his lips warm and soft. Another kiss followed, then another, trailing up toward your neck in that way that always made your stomach flutter, but this morning it only made you feel a little weird… 

His hand moved over your stomach, his fingers splayed the way they always did when you cuddled in the morning, but this time it felt different. You weren’t sure what you were feeling, but it felt a lot like guilt. 

But you stayed still, you let him hold you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed- because to him, nothing had. Not yet at least. 

“We don’t have to get up today, right?” He asked softly. “No work, no rehearsals...”

“No,” you said quietly. “Nothing planned.”

“Good,” he whispered, a faint smile in his voice. His hand slid a little higher, his thumb brushing over your side. “Cause I kinda just wanna stay here with you.”

He kissed your neck again, slower this time… and your breath hitched despite yourself. 

His hand slid a little higher, cupping your breasts through your top. He was always so soft and affectionate, it wasn’t rushed or demanding, he was just touching you because he liked to, because it made him feel close to you, and he tried to show you just how much he loves you… and usually you’re doing it back, but you had other things on your mind this morning. And the feeling of his hands touching you this way made you feel a little uncomfortable right now. 

“Do you wanna…?” he asked after a moment, hesitating slightly like he always did even after all the times you’ve been together.

You froze. For a moment, you considered saying yes and kissing him back just to pretend like everything was normal for just a little longer… but you’d already hesitated. So you gently shook your head and turned to face him. 

“No,” you said quietly. “I… I’m not really feeling it.”

His hand stilled immediately, and he carefully pulled his hand back. 

“Oh,” he said softly. He moved back a little, just enough to look at you properly. You felt the way he was studying your face, and then he continued with, “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.” 

There was no disappointment or frustration in his voice at all, just concern. You swallowed hard, tugging the blanket over you just a little more.

He brushed your hair back from your face gently, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. “You were kinda restless last night. You kept tossing and turning around.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. “I just didn’t sleep too great.”

He didn’t say anything right away, he just kept looking at you, his brows knitted a little… you knew that look, the one he gave when something didn’t sit right with him. 

“You sure?” He asked gently. “You seem… I don’t know. Off.”

You softly shook your head and forced a small smile. 

“I’m fine, Noah. I’m just exhausted. All this overtime at work is finally catching up with me I guess.” 

His gaze softened, but it didn’t fully relax.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I just… wanna make sure you’re good.”

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there a little longer than usual. Then he kissed you again. 

“I’m here,” he added softly. “You know you can tell me anything, yeah? I’ll always listen, I’ll never judge.”

“I know.” You whispered, swallowing against the lump in your throat. 

He pulled you back into him again, wrapping both arms around you this time, holding you close. His chin rested on your shoulder as he sighed quietly, already starting to relax again. But you stayed tense, and wide awake. 

His hand rested over your stomach again without thinking, his thumb brushing slowly back and forth. You stared down at it, your breath shallow… if he only knew.

You must’ve drifted off again, because when you woke up, he had disappeared. You could smell coffee, followed by the sizzling sound of something cooking. You had to tell him, you couldn’t keep this to yourself any longer. No matter how he’d react, he deserved to know. 

So you forced yourself to get up, and you wandered down the stairs. 

The sun shone bright through the kitchen window, lighting the room up. Noah stood by the sink in his sweats, his hair tied back in a messy little bun, his tatted arms and torso on show… 

He was in the middle of rinsing out a coffee mug when he heard you, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Hey.” He said softly.

You tried to smile, but it didn’t work.

He stopped the water running and set the mug down on the side. His brows pulled together as he watched you cross the kitchen, noticing the way you looked more tense than usual, the way you avoided his eyes…

“Baby…” he started, then stopped himself, swallowing. “Can you just- can you please tell me what’s going on?”

You froze in your tracks, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was scared of spooking you. 

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong. Like… did I say something? Yesterday? Last night? This morning?... hell, even last week? I know sometimes I can-”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, you didn’t- It’d not you.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, desperation creeping in despite his attempt to stay calm. “Because you’re scaring me a little.”

That did it…

The tears came fast, spilling over before you could stop them. You brought a hand up to your mouth, shaking your head again like that might hold everything in.

“I’m sorry, Noah, I-” your voice broke completely.

He was at you in an instant.

“Hey, hey,” he shushed, hands coming up to your arms, grounding but still incredibly gentle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain if-”

“I- I’m-” 

“Breathe,” he said, his hand stroking your shoulder, “It’s okay-”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out with a broken sob, your hands covering your face.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. It’s like he was trying to catch up with what you had just said… he was trying to process it but his brain had just simply stopped. His face fell, the concerned expression falling, and going blank instead, and he carefully pulled his hands off of you. 

“Oh.”

The one word felt like a punch to the chest. It felt like confirming your worst suspicions. Your panic instantly spiked, and you didn’t know how you could possibly fix this now. 

“I- I know it’s bad, okay? I know it’s not the right time, and I wasn’t trying to- I mean, I swear I just-”

Your words were just muddling together, and you were making no sense. But the longer he stayed silent, the more they tumbled out. Whether you meant them or not. 

“I’ll get an abortion,” you rushed to say, tears streaming down your face. “I’ll call the doctor, I’ll do it right now, I’ll book an appointment, I’ll take care of it- you don’t have to worry, I won’t make this your problem, I promise-”

“Hey, no.” He said suddenly, cutting through your spiral completely. 

He stepped closer again, his hands a little shaky as he gently cupped your face and brushed away your tears even though they wouldn’t stop falling. 

“Stop panicking, please.” He said softly, and you stared up at him, confused, your breath shaking like you were on the verge of hyperventilating. “You don’t need to make any decisions right now, okay? Not whilst you’re like this.”

You let out a broken sob.

“But you went quiet! I thought-”

“I know, but I didn’t go quiet because I’m mad,” he said quickly, “I just… needed a second.”

He exhaled slowly, resting his forehead against yours. 

“And also,” he added after a beat, an almost smile creeping up on his lips, “Y’know those tests can give false positives right? I’m assuming you took one.”

You blinked up at him. 

“What?”

He huffed a nervous laugh. 

“Don’t ask how I know.” 

Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped you.

“You’re serious?” You asked, wiping at your cheeks.

“I am,” he nodded. “I mean… yeah, it could be real. But it also might not be. Especially if you’ve only taken one.”

“I took one,” you whispered. “Just one.”

“Okay,” he said gently. “Why don’t I go out and get a couple more? We’ll do it together this time, if you want?” 

You nodded, holding him tight, clinging to him like if you let go you’d never get him back. 

… 

Noah went to the store alone, whilst you stayed home and showered. 

The water was too hot, but you didn’t change it. You just stood there, still trying to process what the fuck had happened in the last 24 hours. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror until your reflection disappeared completely, and you were grateful for that. 

You tipped your head back and let the water run down you.

This could be nothing, you told yourself again. It might just be a false positive, a fluke, it could all be a result of stress. But your hands kept drifting to your stomach anyway, fingers splaying there absentmindedly. 

Finally, you turned the water off and wrapped yourself in a towel before stepping back into the bedroom. You dried off and pulled one of Noah’s hoodies over your head, the sleeves drowned you and the hem fell to your thighs, but the smell of it was comforting- it was just what you needed right now.

Then you sat on the edge of the bed and just waited. Every sound outside made your chest tighten- passing cars, footsteps on the pavement, the sound of passing voices. You kept checking your phone even though he hadn’t texted, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. 

What if this was his escape plan? What if he wasn’t coming back? What if he-

The sound of the front door opening sent a wave of relief washing over you. 

“Noah?” You called out. 

“Yeah, baby?”

You got up from the bed and made your way down the stairs, he was waiting in the living room with a small paper bag in his hands. 

“You okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded, even though it wasn’t really true. 

“Did you get them?”

He lifted the bag. 

“Yeah. I got a few different ones just to be safe.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Thank you… I guess I should, uh-”

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he said gently. “If you wanna wait-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t wait. I’ll just spiral even more.”

He gave a small, understanding huff of a laugh. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

You nodded your head and took the bag from him, and made your way to the bathroom. He followed you in, and watched as you pulled each box from the bag. 

“So how do you wanna do this? You gonna pee in a cup or just hope you’ve got enough in you for each stick?”

You turned your head slowly to look at him, grimacing slightly. 

“Ew.” 

“What? Babe, if we're having a baby, we’re gonna be looking after a crying poop machine… we gotta get comfortable talking about these things!” 

You took in a deep breath, and nodded your head. 

“Fine… do we still have any plastic cups left in the cupboard?”

“I think so…” Noah said, “Lemme check.” 

When he left the bathroom, you swallowed hard. You looked at each box on the counter, still in disbelief that this whole situation was happening. 

“Got one!” You heard him shout, before you heard the cupboard shut, and then he reappeared. “Here.” 

You took it from him, and he spun around again, letting you have your privacy, but staying close on the other side of the door.

“You can come back in!” You called out after you were done, placed the cup on the counter and washed your hands. 

The door creaked open and Noah stepped back inside carefully. He hovered for a second, unsure where to put himself, before leaning back against the sink.

“You good?” He asked quietly.

You nodded again out of habit, then exhaled and shook your head. 

“No. But I feel better with you here.”

You didn’t see the way that made his bottom lip quiver since you were in the middle of opening the first box. You guessed the instructions would be similar to the test you took last night, so you dipped the stick into the cup and counted under your breath before taking it back out. 

“So how long do we have to wait for it?”

“Three minutes.” You said. 

“It’s gonna be the longest three minutes of my life.” He chuckled softly as he got his timer ready on his phone.  

You set the test down on the counter, face up. Then you repeated it with the second, then the third. You washed your hands again, and then you both turned the other way and just… stood there and waited. 

“What if it’s positive again?” You whispered, breaking the silence. 

Noah didn’t answer right away, instead he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side, his hand resting on your hip.

“Then we talk about it,” he said finally. “And we figure out what to do about it together.”

You swallowed hard. 

“And if it’s not? If I’m just… overreacting?”

“Then we still talk,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Because this clearly freaked you out more than you’re letting on.”

A tear slipped free despite your efforts. He caught it with his thumb before it could fall.

The timer on his phone buzzed. He quickly stopped it, and glanced over at you again. 

“Ready?”

“No.” You said truthfully, but spun back around anyway-

And as your eyes drifted down to the counter, the breath was stolen from your lungs. 

“Noah…” You breathed, your hand instinctively reaching for his. 

“I know,” he said quietly. “I see it.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “It’s positive.”

Noah stared for a long moment, eyes darting between each test.

“Yeah. They’re all the same.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

Your knees felt weak. You sat down on the closed toilet lid without thinking, hands flying to your mouth as the reality of it crashed into you all at once.

“I can’t- I don’t know how to feel,” you sobbed. “I’m scared, I’m- I feel sick, and I feel-”

He crouched in front of you immediately, hands finding your knees. He didn’t interrupt you to attempt to calm you down, though. He just gave you space to let it all out. 

“I thought I’d hate it…” You confessed, “I thought I’d panic and want it gone immediately, I thought I’d do it without a second thought… but I don’t know if that’s what I want, or if that's what I thought was right- and I'm just afraid of making the wrong decision... that’s what scares me more than anything, Noah.”

Noah’s face softened.

“I know,” he said with a soft sigh. “...I feel exactly the same.”

He hesitated, then slowly lifted his hand, resting it over your lower stomach like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you there.

“There’s something in there,” he whispered, his disbelief in his voice. “I know it’s barely just a clump of cells right now, probably the size of a blueberry or something, I dunno. But... we made it. It's our little blueberry.”

You let out a shaky laugh through your tears. 

“I already googled it, Noah. If I’m right about the dates, it should be the size of a pea.”

Noah’s face softened. 

“Our little pea.” He pouted before kissing your tummy over your shirt. 

…

After a long cry and an even longer cuddle- and Noah googling “what to do if i’m pregnant”- a doctor’s appointment was booked. You were lucky enough that there was a cancellation, and you could come in tomorrow- which although relieving, was also a little scary. However, Noah promised to be by your side the whole time, and even cancelled rehearsals so he was able to come with you. 

The two of you were now laying in bed, you were half on top of him, your leg over his, your arm across his waist, and you could tell he was still awake by the way his fingers traced little patterns on your back.

“Noah?” You whispered into the silence. 

“Mm?” He hummed sleepily. 

You hesitated a little, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“I still don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the right choice is…” 

“That’s okay,” he said softly, tilting your chin so you looked up at him even in the darkness of the room. “We’ve got time to decide. I just don’t want you to make a decision because you think it’s the right one, and regret it for the rest of your life. I want you to decide what you want.” 

“But what if what I want is different from what you want?”

“Baby, it’s your body. You’re gonna be the one growing a little human, it’s your choice. No matter what you decide to do, I’ll be there for you, whether I’m holding your hair back through morning sickness or holding your hand whilst you talk about the other options…”

You nodded slowly, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. 

“But… I need to know what you want, too.” You said, shifting a little so you could prop yourself up to see his face properly, “I know it’s my choice, and whatever you say doesn’t change that, I just want to know…”

He was silent for a moment, but his hand didn’t stop moving against your back. He was just trying to think of how to word what he wanted to say. 

“I like the idea of a little us,” he confessed, “Even if we don’t do this now, even if we wait… it is something I’d want… with you. Only ever with you.”

You swallowed hard.

“I think we’d make really good parents.” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you could overthink them.

He huffed, shaking his head. 

“No. You’d make a good parent.”

That made your chest ache. 

“Noah-”

“I’m serious,” he cut in gently, lifting his hand so his thumb brushed your cheek. “You’re patient, you’re kind, you know when you need to put your foot down. You think things through.” His voice softened. “You’d be amazing at it.”

“And you’re saying you wouldn’t?” You asked, brows knitting together.

He hesitated, his eyes looking somewhere over your shoulder. 

“I’d mess it up,” he said honestly. “I’m forgetful, immature- I barely have my own shit together half the time.”

You frowned, shifting so you were fully hovering over him now, giving him no choice but to meet your eyes. 

“Hey,” you said, nudging his chin until he looked at you again. “You love hard, and I know that for a fact. You protect the people you care about, and even when you’re exhausted, even after a long day, you still put others before yourself. You’d be the best dad.”

He scoffed softly. 

“I don’t know about that.”

“Yes, you would,” you insisted. “Think of all the stories you’d have to tell them! You’d make them laugh, you’d be the fun dad who lets them eat ice cream for dinner while I’m the bossy mum who makes them eat their vegetables. You’d be the dad who fixes their bike late at night so they can play again in the morning. You’d be the one they crawl next to in bed when they have nightmares… you’d be their hero.”

His jaw clenched for a second, and you felt his arm tighten around you slightly.

“But what if I’m not there enough?” He asked quietly. “I’m just worried about the band, what if it finally takes off and I’m gone all the time? I don’t want them wondering why their dad’s always on the road… why he’s not home. Why he doesn’t make time for them.”

Your heart softened painfully at that. You leaned down, resting your forehead against his.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Together. You’d still call, you’d still come home- and they’d know you love them. Being away doesn’t mean you don’t care… we’d even come with you if we could.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing you in. 

“I just don’t want to fail you,” he murmured. “Or them.”

You slid your hand over his chest, resting it right over his softly beating heart. 

“You won’t.” You said gently. 

His eyes opened again, glossy in the low light. He pulled you down into him, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your hair, holding you tight. 

“I’m not saying it’s the right time, but when will be the right time?” He said quietly. “And I’m not saying it won’t be hard. But… if this is something you want, if you decide you want to keep it… then we’re in this shit together, okay?”

Your chest felt too full, every emotion possible was tangling together inside of you until you couldn’t quite separate fear from warmth. 

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“For what?”

“For being honest,” you said. “And for not running… that’s what I was kinda scared of.”

He let out a soft, almost incredulous laugh. 

“You’re stuck with me forever,” he whispered. “Baby or not.”

…

“Y/n?” The nurse appeared in the waiting room, looking around. 

“That’s us.” Noah said as he stood up and reached his hand out for you to take. 

You took it and let him pull you to your feet while the nurse gave you a soft smile and led you down a long hallway. 

“I’ve got you.” Noah whispered as the nurse held the door open for you, and you stepped in. 

The room was small, pale blue walls with an exam bed sat against one wall with crinkly exam paper laying on top. The nurse sat at her desk, and you sat in one of the chairs opposite her, Noah by your side. 

She asked you a lot of questions about your medical history, health conditions and medications you’re on, then she asked about timings, when was the first date of your last period, do you know the date of conception (which was a very quick answer no), what type of birth control were you using. 

You told her you took not one, not two, not three… but four home tests and they all came back positive, yet she asked if you’d like to take a test here today. Just to be safe, you said yes. And again, it came back positive. There was absolutely no doubt about it. 

“Judging by what you’ve told me,” she said, “I’d say you’re about 6 weeks along. I assume this wasn’t a planned pregnancy?”

You let out a little chuckle. 

“No,” you shook your head, “Far from it.” 

“Do you know what your options are?” She asked gently, “There’s plenty of support we can offer you. If you want to continue with the pregnancy, adoption is always an option, otherwise-”

You shook your head. 

“I think… we want to keep it.” 

The doctor smiled. 

“That’s great! So, should we book you in for your first scan?”

----------------------

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