𝙀𝙡 ✞☯︎︎𓁹

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

You were going to see your boyfriend as soon as humanly possible, intrusive fans be damned. You've been waiting for a month and a half. You can’t wait any longer.

You’ve seen the photos online. You’re aware of the fact that this tour was rougher on him than usual. You noticed his late-night texts that came through to you at a time when he should have been asleep. You noticed the bags under his eyes that seemed more prominent with each photo that Bryan took. Halfway through the tour, you even received a concerned message from Jolly, asking whether there was anything that he could do in order to help Noah. 

The other band members tried to make sure that you didn’t worry yourself too much about Noah—but it was impossible not to. You would call him during the nights where he struggled to sleep—and you would hear his unfiltered, whispered admissions. He had stopped working out, he barely ate, he didn’t even have the energy to go outside and get some fresh air. He spent most of his free time curled up in his bunk, curtain drawn as he laid in the darkness.

Throughout it all, there was nothing that you could do to help. You were stuck on the other end of the phone, helpless, as you watched Noah become a shell of a person. Sure—you offered words of advice. But they fell on deaf ears.

You’ve seen the photos online. But nothing could have prepared you to face the reality of just how awful Noah looks. His posture is terrible—he’s hunched over as if he’s trying to make himself seem smaller—as if he’s imposing too much. His skin is paler than usual, an almost sickly colour. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever before. While hugging him, you can feel that he’s lost weight. 

Though he seems exhausted, the smile that he gives you is real. His eyes brighten when he sees you, and you can almost see the weight that lifts off his shoulders.

You give a weak smile in response, trying your best to mask your concern. You tell yourself that whatever happened on tour—that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that he’s home—with you.

You’ll finally be able to hold him, comfort him, and take care of him. He’ll be okay now. He has you to take care of him.

You’ll make sure that he’ll be okay.

Noah is mostly silent on the way back to your shared house. You’re okay with that. Now that he’s finally able to relax, you’re not surprised that he doesn’t feel like talking. For the first time in a month and a half, he can rest his voice. 

You don’t feel a need to talk, either. You’re perfectly content with sitting in silence. 

There’s many questions on the tip of your tongue, many things that you wonder about—but you stay silent. Noah doesn’t need to be interrogated right now. He doesn’t need you worrying over him, fussing over just how different he looks within the span of a month and a half. You stay silent, reminding yourself to keep your worries to yourself. Sharing them aloud would only make everything worse.

Once you both step into your shared home, Noah leaves his suitcases by the door, takes his shoes off, and grabs you by the hand. He pulls you towards the couch, pushing you down onto it until you’re lying flat. He unceremoniously clambers on top of you, snuggling against your side. He lets out a quiet sigh as he allows his body to melt into yours.

He feels so perfectly warm against you. He’s like your personal heated blanket. You’ve always perfectly complimented each other this way—your cold body helps cool Noah down, and Noah’s warm body helps warm you up. It’s the perfect contrast.

You can’t help the shiver that runs through you once his body slots against yours. It’s always like this after a long tour—after a month or two of being away from him, the physical contact almost feels unfamiliar. It brings you back to when you first started dating him—feeling electricity run through you every time that his touch met yours.

Every time that you cuddle him after being apart for so long, you wonder—how did you ever get so lucky with this man? On some days, it still feels unreal. You feel so grateful that despite everything that’s going on in Noah’s life—he manages to find his peace within you.

The two of you simply lay in silence, indulging in the blissful presence of the other. Your hands wander over Noah’s waist, sliding beneath his shirt and softly rubbing the warm skin of his back. You’ve missed being able to do this. You’ve missed being able to feel just how soft his skin is, just how perfect it feels beneath your touch. Noah lets out the sweetest sigh, as you spoil him with soft touches.

The silence is broken by a very insistent rumble, coming from Noah’s stomach.

“We should go eat something,” you mumble, gently scratching your nails along his scalp.

Noah shakes his head, though his argument is offset by another noise coming from his stomach.

“When was the last time you ate, baby?”

He pauses, debating on how to answer. “Don’t wanna leave you,” he says, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo. “We’ll go eat, and then we can go right back to cuddling, hmm? How does that sound?”

“I don’t want to,” he whispers, pulling you impossibly closer against him.

There’s something so soft and honest about his admission, that you let go of the subject. He almost sounds distressed. You coo at him, softly petting over his hair, while your other hand rests against his back, holding him close. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. We won’t move until you want to.”

Noah nods, nuzzling further into your shoulder.

You keep mumbling soft words of affection to Noah, and he hums in response. He responds so beautifully to your affection, making the sweetest little noises as you coo over him. Slowly, you begin to notice that his hums are quieter, and eventually, he stops responding.

“Baby,” you whisper. “Don’t fall asleep on me. I know that you’re jetlagged, but you’ll feel even worse if you let yourself sleep now.”

Noah grumbles in response.

“You growl like a little puppy whenever you’re unhappy,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

You gently scratch your nails against his scalp, and his grumbles taper off into a happy hum. He’s so easy to please. 

“I can’t let you fall asleep now. It’s still too early.”

Noah lets out another grumble. It would be comical, if you didn’t know just how exhausted he is. 

Your voice softens. “How about we get you to eat something, and then we shower afterwards? I’ll cuddle you to sleep once you’ve done that, I promise. Just do these two little things for me?”

Noah looks up at you then, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours. He is very much on the verge of falling asleep. “I want sleepy cuddles now,” he states firmly.

You coo at him, reaching out and softly cradling his face between your palms. “I know, baby. I know. But we need to make sure you’re fed and clean, yeah? And then once your tummy is full and you’re not stinky anymore, we can go cuddle. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Noah sighs. “Fine,” he mumbles, looking visibly displeased. “And ‘m not stinky. You’re lying.”

You give a noncommittal hum in response. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “I promise you’ll get your cuddles soon.”

Once you help Noah stand up, you reach for the blanket that’s folded over the edge of the couch. You unfold it and wrap it around Noah’s shoulders, enveloping him in the plush warmth. He smiles, closing his eyes for a moment as he wraps it even tighter around himself.

“It feels like a hug,” he whispers. 

You smile. You can tell that he’s still a little bit sleepy. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. When you pull away, his smile looks almost infinitely brighter.

You take his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his and giving his hand a soft squeeze. He squeezes your hand in response. You guide him into the kitchen, and he reluctantly follows behind you. You pull a chair out from your dining table, and gently guide Noah to sit down. Once he’s sitting, you press a small kiss to his forehead, before fixing the blanket that’s draped around him.

He lets out a little noise of displeasure as you pull away, but you remind him that you’ll be back in just a moment.

You go about preparing some food for you and Noah.

Earlier in the day, you cooked a simple broth for the two of you. Sometimes, after coming back from tour, Noah loses his appetite. You wanted to make something simple that you were sure he could stomach. There’s no telling what state his appetite is currently in. 

You re-heat the broth, pouring it into two bowls and topping it with noodles and veggies. Once you bring the food over to the table and set it down in front of Noah, he almost visibly brightens at the sight of it.

The weight in your chest lightens once you hear Noah enthusiastically slurping his food. Only when Noah begins to eat, do you allow yourself to do the same. 

“I missed this so much,” he sighs.

He eats very slowly, and you try to match his pace in order to make sure that he’s not feeling self conscious. Despite all of your worries, he manages to finish his entire portion. You’re not sure if you imagine it, but you swear that you can see some of the colour return to his face once he’s finished eating.

You leave the now-empty bowls at the kitchen counter. You don’t bother putting them into the dishwasher. That can be done tomorrow.

You have more important things to take care of now.

You guide Noah upstairs. You can see some of the tension leave his shoulders as he steps into your shared bedroom. He gives a sigh of relief as he lays his eyes on the bed. You don’t allow him to get distracted by the prospect of sleep for too long, though, as you bring him into the bathroom.

“I’d love to give you a bath,” you say, “but I think that runs the risk of you falling asleep inside it.”

Noah blushes so prettily in response.

You help him undress, allowing your hands to drift over the soft skin of his body. His skin feels so perfect beneath your touch. It feels right.

As he removes his clothes, your suspicion that he had lost weight is confirmed. It’s quite concerning. You don’t comment on it.

“Cold,” Noah whines, shivering a little bit.

”I know, I know,” you soothe, your hand rubbing over his arm. “We’ll warm you up soon.”

You turn the shower on, letting the water heat up for a moment, before guiding Noah into the shower. You follow after him.

Noah lets out a sigh of relief as the warm water meets his skin. You stand there, silent, letting him bask in the comfort that the warmth brings. 

He guides his head beneath the shower head, getting his hair wet. Once it’s fully soaked, the water weighs it down, and you can see just how long it’s gotten over the duration of the tour. You can’t help but reach up and run your fingers through it.

“It’s gotten so long,” you comment. “Are you going to cut it?”

Noah gives a noncommittal hum in response. 

You squirt some shampoo onto your hand, and begin to wash Noah’s hair. You thoroughly lather it while your fingertips firmly massage his scalp. Noah hums happily at the attention.

He almost makes a noise of complaint as your hands leave his hair. He’d like to bask in your affection for just a little bit longer. You guide him beneath the shower head, washing away the shampoo. 

“I know, baby, I know. Feels nice, doesn’t it? But let’s get you clean quickly so that we can cuddle, hmm?”

Noah hums in agreement once he’s reminded about the cuddles that he initially wanted. 

It takes a lot of coaxing and cooing on your end in order to get Noah to leave the warm haven of the shower, but eventually, you manage to get him to step out. Immediately, you wrap him up in one of the towels that has been sitting on the radiator. You wrap another towel around yourself, too.

He sighs as the warm towel meets his skin. You gently dry him off, patting his face dry in the process. He gazes reverently at you, a smile on his lips. You lean in, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. You can’t help it. He practically melts against you, and you almost have to hold him upright as his body sinks against yours. He very reluctantly pulls away once you complain that you’re struggling to hold him up.

You make sure to dry his hair too, patting it with a towel until it’s not dripping wet. 

You help him get dressed. He looks adorable in his oversized, loose t-shirt and boxer shorts. His thighs look criminally good in his tight, black boxer shorts. You really want to press soft kisses to his thighs. Your eyes trace over his body. You’re itching to get into bed and feel the warmth of his bare legs against yours.

In return, Noah then makes a big show of trying to take care of you. His hands softly trace over your bare skin. His fingers glide along your waist, before tracing up your torso, and down your arms. It’s not sexual—he’s simply trying to remember how your skin feels. It feels so new to him, after having spent so much time away from you. He helps you get dressed too, though it’s a little clumsy, what with how sleepy and tired he is.

Somehow, you manage to convince Noah to allow you to blow-dry his hair. Noah initially flinches at the loud noise of the hairdryer, but eventually, he relaxes.

Once you’re finished, he turns to look at you, and you can’t help but affectionately ruffle his hair. It’s so soft and fluffy. It’s a little bit reminiscent of a puppy that’s just returned from the groomer’s. 

Noah allows you to admire his hair for a few seconds, before insistently tugging you towards the bed.

“Sleep,” he insists.

“Sleep,” you agree, as you follow him into the bedroom.

Noah doesn’t waste any time before crawling beneath the covers, patting the space beside him. You slide in next to him. You’re both facing each other. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, as he smiles in response. You then guide him to face away from you, before tugging his back against you so that you’re spooning him. It’s a little bit awkward—what with how tall he is—but you don’t mind.

You reach up and place a soft kiss against his neck. He sighs as he allows himself to sink into your touch. He makes a needy little noise, one that signals that he wants some more attention. You obey, leaving lots of little kisses along the back of his neck.

You let your face nuzzle against his back. You can’t help but rub the side of your face against him. He feels so warm, so right against you. He smells so good too. You’ve missed this. All of it.

He mumbles a quiet “goodnight,” before promptly falling asleep. His soft snores lull you to sleep, as your body finally remembers what it’s like to relax alongside the boy you love.

_ _ _ _ _ 

The next morning, you wake up before Noah does. You’re lying on your back, with Noah pressed against your side. His hair is fluffy and unruly, and the sight is reminiscent of a scruffy little puppy. You can feel his soft little breaths against your skin. He makes the sweetest little noises as he sleeps, these soft snores that are so adorably endearing. You could listen to them forever. 

You slowly rearrange yourself until you’re facing him. You bring one of your hands around his back, pulling yourself even closer to him. Though there’s a morning chill in the room, Noah’s warm body acts as your own personal heater. You can’t help but snuggle against his warm chest, nuzzling your face into his torso.

You bask in the warmth of his touch, as you drift in and out of sleep. You’re appreciative of being able to silently rest and relax in Noah's presence—especially after being apart for so long. 

Eventually though, you can’t help the restlessness that you feel. You know that it’s time to wake Noah up soon. He won’t be happy that he’s slept in for so long. Plus, if you let him snooze for any longer, he’ll struggle to fall asleep tonight.

Slowly and careful not to disturb him, you slide out of bed. Instantly, the chill in the room settles into your bones, and you miss the warmth of Noah’s skin. Going back to bed feels so alluring, but you resist the temptation.

You quietly make your way into the kitchen. You decide to make Noah a cup of tea—as a sort of consolation prize for having to wake him up. While on tour, he had sent you a photo of a new tea brand that he discovered. He claimed that it worked wonders on his throat after a show. You also noticed that whenever he sent you a photo of his breakfast, you would always spot the same tag on the tea bag that was hanging out of his cup. Unbeknownst to him, you made sure to buy some of that very same tea, so that he’d be able to drink it while at home.

He ran out of the tea before the tour ended, and you remember receiving his very upset text message about it. You then proceeded to scour the internet, trying to find a way to somehow import this brand of tea to America. It was some sort of home-made blend, sold in a family-run store, somewhere in Europe. You paid an unholy amount of money in order to ship it to America, and get it to arrive before Noah came home.

You settle about preparing the tea just how Noah had described it to you during one particular video call. He had gone off on a tangent, explaining the intricacies of how to perfectly brew it. At the time, you had giggled over just how passionate he was over something as simple as tea, but still, you committed all of his instructions to memory.

Once you finish brewing his tea—making sure not to let it steep for too long—you head upstairs, as you debate just exactly how you should wake him up.

There’s no need for that, though.

Noah sits up as you enter the room. 

“You left me,” he croaks, voice still hoarse from sleep. He pouts, and his wide eyes look up at you. He looks a little bit like a neglected hamster. Your heart jolts at the sight, and you feel slightly bad for leaving him to wake up on his own.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say. “I have a little something to cheer you up, though.”

He looks adorably confused as you approach him. He even tilts his head slightly, wordlessly wondering what it is that’s inside the mug that you’re currently holding.

You place the mug of steaming tea between his hands. “I made you your favourite tea. I know that you like drinking it first thing in the morning.”

Noah looks surprised for a moment, before noticing the familiar smell. He looks up at you then, his gaze so endlessly grateful. “Oh! Thank you,” he smiles softly.

He’s silent for a moment, as his thumb rubs against the side of the mug. 

He’s just feeling a lot of different things right now.

You notice how his eyes seem to tear up a little bit, but you don’t mention it. He clears his throat, before taking a sip. 

He sighs as the warm comfort of the tea settles his throat. 

“Where did you even—how did you even find this?”

“Magic,” you say, winking at him.

You slide into bed beside Noah, sitting up beside him. You move closer, until your side is pressed against his. Noah hums at the contact, his free hand coming out to rest on your bare thigh, as he sips his tea. His fingers trace soft patterns against your skin. It feels nice.

The two of you sit in silence. You’ve missed this—being able to simply bask in Noah’s presence, sit beside him, and take comfort in the fact that he’s close to you. No outside pressure, no stress, no work to attend to—just the freedom of knowing that you can go about the day with ease.

He drinks the rest of the tea quietly, letting the warm comfort of it settle over his throat. As much as he takes pride in how well he takes care of his voice, he doesn’t deny the fact that his throat begins to hurt towards the end of tour.

“Thank you. You always take such good care of me,” Noah says. It’s a quiet admission.

In response, you place a soft kiss on his jawline. He hums so prettily at the contact.

Once he’s done drinking his tea, he places the mug aside, before turning to face you.

“Wanna cuddle you,” he insists, making grabby hands.

He’s so endearing that you can’t help the little smile that blossoms on your face. “Of course, baby. C’mere,” you say, lying down and patting the space beside you.

Noah doesn’t waste any time before sliding closer to you and settling himself against you. You’re lying on your back, with Noah tucked against your side. His head rests on your chest, and you can’t help but slide your fingers through his hair, playing with the soft strands. 

He makes such pretty noises as you scratch his scalp and play with his hair. You let your nails drift over the nape of his neck, and he hums so prettily at that, too.

You don’t even suggest leaving bed. You let Noah curl against you and stay there for as long as he wants. At some point, he drifts off and falls asleep again, but you don’t mind. You simply hold him close, your hand wandering beneath his shirt, memorising the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

You’re not sure if he can handle doing another tour. You’re not sure if you can handle him doing another tour. You try not to think about it, though. You let yourself enjoy the feeling of Noah’s warm body pressed against yours. You try to ignore just how much your heart aches at the thought of being separated from him again.

_ _ _ _ _ 

You spend your days taking care of Noah. Cooking for him, making tea for him, bringing him water, bathing him, dressing him, bringing him for walks. You can tell just how much calmer he feels whenever you’re by his side. He seems to have developed slight attachment issues—always trailing after you like a lost little puppy. He can’t stand to be apart from you—even if it’s only for a short moment.

Most days, Noah is silent. He doesn’t say much, apart from little hums of agreement, or soft noises of affection. He’s very much okay with being able to be quiet for once, not needing to constantly be in charge and oversee everything. There’s no need for him to talk—not when you’re the one that’s taking care of most things. You’ve learnt to enjoy the silence. It’s nice because in a way, you don’t feel a need to talk, either. It feels easier like this—to communicate through soft touches and actions.

Noah happily lets you take charge. You decide the plan for the day, what you’ll both be doing, what you’ll both be eating, and even what Noah will be wearing. Noah finds that having someone else make the decisions for him helps a lot. It eases his mind of the burden of needing to constantly think. It’s reassuring, in a way.

Really, you don’t mind. You like being able to provide for him in such a way. Taking care of the boy you love makes you feel content in a way that you can’t quite describe. Knowing that he’s being taken care of—it puts your soul at ease. 

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“Yeah… hi, it’s y/n,” you said into the phone, your voice a little shaky. You cleared your throat, and tried again. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be coming in today…”

You screwed your eyes shut, biting down on your lip as you tried to continue. 

“I’m… I’m not feeling so good.”

There was a pause, your boss was talking in your ear, but you could hardly concentrate on him. You swallowed hard, your other hand gripping tight onto the sheets. 

“Yeah, no, I think it’s just something I ate. I’m sure I’ll be fine after some rest...”

The second you stopped speaking, you drew in a sharp breath. 

“Sorry,” you rushed out, trying to mask it as a cough. “I’ll drink some water, get some sleep.”

Your boss hesitated, then asked if you’d be okay to return tomorrow. You clenched your jaw, forcing your voice to come out steady… even as your body betrayed you. 

“I don’t know.. I’ll keep you posted.”

The conversation wrapped up quickly after that, thankfully. The moment you hung up, you let the phone drop to the bed, throwing your head back into the pillows with a groan.

Then you yanked the covers back, revealing Noah between your thighs, grinning up at you, his lips glistening.

“Noah!” You hissed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I almost moaned in my boss’s ear!”

“Almost?” His grin widened. “Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, you sound so hot when you’re trying to hold it back, I couldn’t help myself.” He teased

Before you could even shove him away or say something, Noah pushed your thighs apart just a little more, kissing his way back down to where you needed him.

“Noah…” You warned, shooting him a look as he continued to kiss a trail down your body.

He glanced up at you, still grinning smugly.

“What? You’re not on the phone anymore.”

And then his tongue was back on you… soft, slow licks at first, just enough to make your head spin. You grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, your head was thrown back against the pillows as his tongue worked harder, diving into you fully, his nose nudging your clit just enough to make you whine.

“God, you taste so good in the morning.” He whispered against you, his voice vibrating through your body.

Your back arched off the bed, a shaky hand tangling in his messy hair. 

“You’re insufferable.” You gasped, though it came out more like a moan than an insult.

He chuckled into you, which only made you rock harder against his mouth. One of his hands slid up, flat against your stomach, holding you down as he devoured you properly now, tongue flicking against your clit the way he always knew made you weak.

“Fuck- Noah…” You tried to bite down on your lip, but the noises still slipped out. They always did for him.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth glistening, his eyes dark and hungry. 

“Oh yeah, that’s better than your little work voice.”

And before you could even snap back, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked...

Your hand flew to cover your mouth, your thighs clamped around him, but he only groaned like he loved it, his tongue working faster until the knot in your stomach was about to snap.

“Noah… oh my god-”

Your words cut off in a broken moan as you felt yourself tip over that edge. He held you there through it all, licking you gently until you were trembling, overstimulated and breathless.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed one last soft kiss against your thigh, then crawled up the bed, settling over you, holding himself up with his hands planted either side of your head. His lips were a little swollen and wet, and then he kissed you slowly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Good morning, pretty girl.” He whispered against your lips, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, still dizzy, your hand curling into his shirt. 

“You’re an asshole.” You breathed, though your grin betrayed you.

“Mm, maybe,” he smirked, brushing his nose against yours. “But you’re calling in sick tomorrow too…”

You let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Noah, I cannot just keep calling in sick every time you decide to-”

“Decide to what?” He teased, kissing down your jaw slowly. “Wake you up the best way possible? I didn’t hear you complaining two minutes ago.”

Your cheeks burned, but you still swatted his chest weakly. 

“But what if I got caught out? If my boss knew I was calling in sick so my boyfriend could eat me out I’d be out of a job. I’d quit! I would not look that man in the eye-”

“Just come work for me, for the band.” He said with a shrug, like it was the most casual proposal in the world. “We need someone to run the band’s social media accounts.”

“Are you serious?” You asked, your eyebrows raised. 

“Are you pretty?” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes, but he was already lying down on the bed beside you, pulling you against him until your head rested on his chest. His skin was warm, and his heartbeat was steady under your ear.

For a while, neither of you spoke. He just stroked his hand lazily up and down your back, occasionally pressing soft kisses against your skin. 

Finally, you whispered into his chest.

“You spoil me, you know that?”

Noah chuckled quietly. 

“Pretty sure this counts as me being selfish. There’s nothing quite like tasting you first thing in the morning.”

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes, your lips curving into a little smile. 

“And what about you?”

He shook his head. 

“I’m good, baby. That was all for you.”

You buried your face back into him so he wouldn’t see how that made you blush.

…

It was only a few hours later, after you both finally dragged yourselves out of bed, after you showered together (which was less about washing and more about getting your hands on each other again), after making coffee, that you finally found yourself shoving a few things into an overnight bag.

“Are you really sure about this?” You asked as you zipped it up, glancing over your shoulder. Noah was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with a little smirk on his face. 

“Positive,” he said simply. “I want you at mine tonight, I don’t care what my roommates say.”

“I’m kinda nervous,” you confess, “...you know I’ve never been to your place before.” 

“I do.” He pushed himself away from the doorway to grab your bag for you. “Guess it’s about time, huh? You ready?”

You nodded, smiling small. 

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

The drive to his house wasn’t too long, he let you play music in the car whilst he kept his hand on your thigh, sneaking glances every now and then. You tried not to overthink it too much, about what his place would be like, about what it actually meant that he was letting you into his world properly now, but your stomach still fluttered the closer you got.

When he finally turned onto his street you recognised it, the first time you met Matt and Davis at the gym he had dropped them home before taking you to dinner, but he made them get out at the top of the road so you’ve never even seen his house before… so when he pulled into a long, wide driveway, your mouth fell open.

“Noah,” you gasped, staring up at the house in front of you. “This place is… huge.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, putting the car into park. 

“It’s just a house.”

“Just a house?” You repeated, still gawking.

You followed him up the steps to the door, and he insisted on carrying your bag for you so you let him.

Inside, it was even more overwhelming. It was fucking huge, and it seemed quite minimalistic- something you expected from Noah. There was an open floor plan, so as you stepped in the living room was to the left, and the stairs and kitchen were to the right. The big windows let a lot of light in, and you even spotted a huge pool outside. This place seemed so much more put together than your tiny little apartment. There were some framed art pieces on the walls, books and some controllers set down on a coffee table, candles that probably cost more than your rent…

And then as you turned, your eyes caught on the wall behind you.

Your mouth went dry. 

Framed records on the wall, not just one or two, but a handful- there was even a couple unopened leaning against the wall. But these just weren’t any kind of records, they were gold, silver, even one platinum plaque. There were a couple awards on a shelf too… all for the band. His band. And these achievements reminded you who he really was, the man that the world adored.

You stopped in your tracks, suddenly feeling small in the expanse of it all. Like maybe you didn’t belong here… with him… 

Noah must’ve noticed, because he set your bag down and came to stand beside you, his hand brushing yours. 

“Too much?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to tear your gaze from the awards and look at him. His brows were drawn together, like he was nervous about what you’d think.

“No, it’s just…” You swallowed hard, motioning to the wall, “You’re really famous, huh?”

He huffed out a laugh. 

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But you are,” you said softly, your eyes drifting back to the wall, then to him again. “And I’m just… me.”

That made him frown. He reached for your hand properly this time, threading his fingers through yours. 

“Hey, don’t do that. You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re everything to me, none of this shit means half as much to me as you do.”

You let out a little sigh and met his eyes again. 

“C’mon,” he said gently, giving your hand a squeeze. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”

You let him lead, your fingers still threaded through his.

He showed you to the kitchen, telling you about the time Davis almost set the house on fire when he tried to cook lasagne. Then about the time he caught Matt here with a girl and made him disinfect the countertops as soon as she went home. 

Then the living room was next. He showed you the shelf where he kept a few anime figures, gifts from fans and a fake plant, everything was so tidy and put together- quite the opposite of your little place. He made you smell the scented candles on the coffee table, and then he told you about the games that were stacked on the tv unit. You loved seeing him like this, in his home, telling you about things he cared about… it made your feel so full. 

Then he took you to the studio.

You paused at the door, knowing what had been made in this room. This was his work room, probably his favourite place in the world (which he would deny, and tell you it’s your bed), and it warmed your heart that he seemed so excited to show you around. 

He showed you all the equipment he had on the desk, though you barely understood a word of what he was saying. He showed you the few different microphones he had, telling you about one that was broken but he didn’t want to get rid of it as it’s the one he used to record their first album. 

“So yeah, this is where the magic happens,” he smirked as he sat in the rolling chair and gestured for you to come closer. “This is where I spend most of my time, if I’m not with you.”

You nodded, looking over at all the guitars he had in the corner of the room. 

“You ever wanted to try?” He asked.

“Play?” You swallowed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to… it was that the thought of trying in his studio, with him watching... “Maybe.”

“Maybe later I can teach you,” he said, then quieter he added, “If you want.” 

He led you back through the hallway, and up the stairs this time. You walked past a few rooms that he didn’t show you- one was the spare room where the guys would keep all their random shit they didn’t want in their rooms, and the other two were Matt and Davis’ rooms. You were expecting at least one of them to be in, but neither of them were… which you were kinda glad about. 

Noah stopped at the end of the hallway, smiling down at you as he opened his bedroom door, letting you step in first. 

For a split second, you hesitated. You couldn’t quite believe how nervous you were feeling, all you were doing was walking into his bedroom! 

You stepped in anyway, and you had no idea what to expect… but it was just so him. The walls were painted grey, and there was a fluffy white rug that sat on the wooden floor. The large windows had the curtains pulled across, making the whole room seem darker than it actually was. 

His bed was in the corner of the room, with a big tv on the wall opposite with a dresser beneath it. On there were his colognes, a few books stacked up and another few anime figures. You love how much of a nerd your boyfriend is. 

He motioned for you to sit on his bed, and so you did. You sank into the soft mattress, resting your hand behind you on his dark sheets. That’s when you noticed his nightstands, one on each side of the bed. On one there was his lamp and a water bottle, and on the other were a couple more scented candles and a polaroid camera. He must’ve caught the way your eyes lingered on it, as he chuckled when he sat down beside you. 

“I bought this pretty recently, Bryan- my friend, he’s also the band's photographer- he has one and he sometimes takes it on tour. I’ve always thought they were pretty cool, and so I bought one on the last tour. I’ve only used it once, though.” 

You picked the camera up and glanced over at him. 

“I used to have one of these, until James lost it.” You shook your head, “That was years ago, he told me he’d buy me a new one but still hasn’t.”

Noah chuckled at that, and you turned back to look at him. Something about the softness in the way he watched you made you feel fuzzy inside, and he looked so good you couldn’t help but ask…

“Can I take a picture of you?”

“Of course.” He grinned.

You raised the camera, peering through the little viewfinder. You thought about telling him to pull a silly face, or to say something that’d make him laugh before taking it, but you just wanted to capture him. His warm smile, the softness that was always in his eyes when he looked at you. This was the real Noah. Your Noah.

You pressed the button and the camera flashed, taking the photo before the little picture popped out of the top. Noah reached out, took it and placed it on the nightstand to develop. And when he turned back to you, there was a playful look in his eye… and you knew where this was leading. 

“Y’know… we could always make this more fun.” He smirked. 

You gave him a playful unsure look, but handed him the camera anyway. 

“Right… what are you suggesting?” You asked, unable to fight off the smile creeping on to your lips. 

Noah leaned back on his palms, tilting his head at you with a lazy smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Baby you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” He said, his voice dropping an octave.

“You mean dirty pictures?” You could already feel your cheeks heating up. 

“Not dirty.” He chuckled, before leaning closer, “More like… beautiful.”

Your breath caught, taken back a little by that, but not exactly surprised. You raised your eyebrows, and Noah’s hand gently rested on your knee. 

“We don’t have to. But if you let me…” he paused, eyes all over you like he was already imagining it, “…I’ll make sure they’re only for me. Only for us.”

You thought about it for a moment, then nodded. You liked the idea of him having something to keep him company on tour (as if the dozens of pictures on his hidden folder on his phone weren’t enough.)

“Okay,” you smirked, “But only if I can get some of you too.” 

“Deal.” His grin returned. 

They started somewhat innocent. You were lying on his bed, against the pillows, his body on top of yours, kissing you until you were breathless and slightly dizzy, which is when he pulled back and reached for the camera. Your lips were kiss swollen, your eyes dark and a lazy grin on your face as you looked up at him. 

*flash!*

The picture came out, and Noah set it down beside you on the bed to let it develop. 

“Your turn.” You smirked, and he passed you the camera. 

He kneeled between your legs, and you pushed yourself up a little so you were almost sitting. You looked through the viewfinder, watching as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it on to the floor. You almost forgot to press the button, too distracted by him… 

But then he lowered himself a little, taking one of your legs, resting it over his shoulder as he kissed up your thigh. 

*flash!*

…

“Wow,” you were panting, your body covered in a layer of sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead as you looked over your shoulder at Noah, who looked a lot more put together even after 3 rounds, “I don’t think we’ve ever gone that long before…”

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.” Noah smirked, kissing your shoulder.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for your panting breaths and the soft whiz of the ceiling fan. Then, out of nowhere, you started giggling.

Noah turned his head, lips curving into a lazy smile.

“What’s so funny?”

You covered your face with your hands, still breathless. 

“Who takes polaroids in the middle of…” another giggle burst out of you, “...that?!”

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“Us, apparently.”

“How did they turn out?” You asked curiously, sitting up, pulling the sheets over your body. 

That smug little grin spread across his face as he reached for the stack sitting on the nightstand. 

“Let’s find out.”

He handed them over to you, and you spread them out between you on the bed. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, covering your face with both hands. “Noah, they’re so filthy.”

“They’re perfect,” he smirked, pulling one specific one out. It was you straddling him, your head tossed back, one of his big tattooed hands grabbing at one of your breasts. “Look at that. Shit I should frame it.”

“You better not!” You hissed, snatching it out of his hand, your cheeks burning.

But then your eyes caught on another one, one of him. His chain dangling down from his neck, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted… you froze, heat rushing through your stomach.

“Holy shit…” You whispered, holding it closer.

“What?” Noah asked, leaning to peek.

You immediately snatched it, clutching it to your chest. 

“Nope. This one’s mine.”

He laughed, trying to grab it from you, but you squealed and held it out of his reach. 

“Mine!”

“You’re ridiculous.” He chuckled, but his grin softened when you leaned forward to steal another kiss.

Then you spotted another in the stack, and your breath hitched. This one was him between your thighs, hair messy, his eyes shut as his hands held your legs open. You bit your lip so hard it almost hurt, your whole body heating.

“That one’s your favourite, huh?” He smirked. 

“Oh, you know it.” You grinned. 

You put the photo back with the rest and Noah set them aside on the nightstand before pulling you closer again, until your head rested just beneath his chin. His arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb tracing absent minded patterns into your skin. 

For a while neither of you spoke, you were just basking in the afterglow, happy to have Noah back. You both finally caught your breath, and Noah pressed a kiss into your hair, then another right at your temple. 

“You okay?” He asked softly. 

You hummed, nodding slightly. 

“Better than okay.”

He smiled at that. 

“Good,” he said quietly, “Because I was kinda hoping you’d say yes to something…” 

That made you lift your head, your brows knitting as you looked up at him. 

“What kind of something?”

Noah didn’t answer right away, he just tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your cheek. 

“I’ve got something planned for us tonight.” 

“What, more sex?” You chuckled, pushing yourself up onto your elbow. 

“No,” he smirked, “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

“Where?” You asked immediately. 

But Noah just shook his head. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Noaahh!” You groaned, “You can’t just say all that and then not tell me!” 

“I can,” he grinned as he got up, “And I will.” 

You sighed, defeated but smiling anyway. 

“So is it a date?” 

He turned back to you, his expression softening instantly. 

“Yeah. It’s a date.” 

That made your heart flutter. 

“Do I need to dress nice?” You asked, suddenly nervous again. 

He returned to the bed with a box of tissues he kept in the dresser, he carefully pulled the sheets down so he could help clean you up. 

“Wear whatever you want, baby. You’ll be perfect.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Noah.”

But he just chuckled. 

“Dress warm. We leave in a couple hours, I’ll drive, and you’ll find out everything when we get there.” 

You stared at him for a moment, trying to read his face, but after wiping up the sticky mess on your thighs he leaned in for a kiss. 

“Trust me?” He whispered against your lips.

“Always.” You said with a smile.

…

Even as you got in the car, he wouldn’t tell you where he was taking you. You had gotten dressed, changing into something warm- Noah’s advice- so that meant a pair of thick leggings with one of his hoodies, the sleeves swallowing your hands.

You were sat in the passenger seat, watching out the window, trying to piece together clues from the street names and turns to figure out where the hell he was taking you… but he was making it impossible. Noah drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh, smirking because he could tell you were still trying to work it out. 

You sighed dramatically, turning towards him. 

“So…” You said, dragging it out, “Are we going somewhere fancy?”

“Hm.. not really.” He answered, his eyes still on the road. 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“That didn’t help at all.” 

“It wasn’t meant to,” He smiled innocently. 

The rest of the drive felt way longer than it actually was, anticipation growing stronger with every passing minute. You noticed the streets getting busier, more lights, more people walking around bundled up in coats and scarves and woolly hats. You could hear the sound of Christmas music driving in through the closed windows when you stopped at a red light…

You leaned forward slightly, squinting as you tried to look into the distance. 

“…Okay, now I’m suspicious.”

That earned you a glance. His eyes softened when they met yours.

“Good,” he said. “Means it’s working.”

A few minutes later, he slowed the car, turning into a busy parking lot. As soon as you stepped out, the cold air hit your cheeks, and the air smelled like sugar and something warm and sweet.

You froze.

You turned around, your eyes lifting slowly, taking it all in.

The lights, the ferris wheel towering above everything, the music, the chatter, the atmosphere… 

“Oh my god.” You gasped. 

Noah came up behind you with the spare jacket he always kept in his car, draping it over your shoulders without you even asking, his hands lingering for just a second as he adjusted it around you.

“Surprise!” He grinned, “Winter wonderland!”

You turned to him, eyes wide, mouth slightly hanging open.

“Noah… are you serious?”

He gave you a soft, warm smile. 

“You mentioned once that you’d never been,” he said. “And I thought… after everything we’ve been through lately, you deserved something fun.”

Your heart did a stupid flip. 

“Oh… Noah!”  You didn’t even think about it before you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. 

He let out a quiet laugh, arms coming around you immediately, holding you close under the warm lights. 

“Thank you,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “This is just… perfect.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there.

“Good,” he said, smiling down at you like you were all he wanted. “C’mon,” he took your hand in his, “I think we should look for a hot chocolate stand.” 

You grinned letting him hold you close as you walked through the busy stream of people. The music was growing louder the closer you got, lights twinkled in every direction. Despite the cold biting at your nose, you’ve never felt so warm. 

The line for drinks wasn’t as long as you thought, so you stood by Noah’s side, his arm around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder. He tilted his head down, noticing the look on your face. 

“You’re smiling.”

“So are you.” You shot back, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

Then it was your turn to order, Noah stepped up and ordered two hot chocolates with extra toppings. He paid, then took both cups when they were handed over, carefully handing yours over to you. 

You wrapped your hands around the cup, sighing as the warmth seeped into your fingers before taking a sip. 

“Oh my god!” you gasped, “This is perfect!” 

He watched you over the rim of his own cup with soft eyes, his mouth curving into a little smile. 

“Not as good as yours, baby.” He said, and you couldn’t help the way that made your heart stutter. 

You lingered there for a moment, stood at the side, just watching people pass by- kids dragging parents towards rides, couples walking hand in hand, groups of friends laughing and posing for photos under the lights. 

It felt unreal, it felt magical. Noah always knew just how to make everything feel so special. 

“So,” he said, nudging his shoulder into yours, “What do you want to do first, angel? We can walk around, go on a ride… spend all our money on claw machines?” 

You turned to look at him fully then, hot chocolate forgotten for a second. He was backlit by the lights, his breath fogging in the cold, hair a little messy from the wind. And all you could feel was this overwhelming certainty that this was all you ever wanted. He was all you ever wanted. Famous or not, all the lies aside, you loved him more than you had ever thought was possible. 

You smiled up at him, with nothing in your eyes but pure affection. 

“Let’s just walk around,” you said softly.

You watched the way his expression changed, something warm and soft crossing his face like he knew exactly what you were feeling, and he was feeling it too.

He reached out, lacing his fingers through yours, lifting your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles before letting it fall between you again.

“Sounds perfect.” He said. 

And as the two of you wandered deeper into the lights and music and laughter, hand in hand, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t matter. 

…

You wandered along the path slowly, shoulder to shoulder, Noah’s arm slung around you as you took everything in. The different stands and booths, the smell of hot churros and mulled wine, nostalgic christmas songs… 

Then, at a corner was when you spotted the ice rink.

You slowed, eyes lighting up as you watched people wobbling across the ice, others skating skilfully. 

You nudged Noah with your elbow, a big grin on your face as you look up at him. 

“You ever skated before?” 

Noah shook his head, a little smirk spreading across his friend. 

“Me and the guys tried once, but-“

“You ended up on your ass?” You giggled, and he nodded his head. 

“It was Nick’s fault to be fair, he pulled me down first!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“Sure it was,” you smiled, “Think you’d want to give it a second try?” 

He laughed, squeezing you a little closer.

“Mmm, maybe,” he admitted. “But if I go down again, I’m taking you with me.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh no you are not.”

“Oh yes I am,” he grinned. “I’ll grab you like this-“ he hooked an arm around your waist playfully, the way he’d do so easily in the gym before pulling you down to the mat with him. 

You laughed, shoving at his chest. But then your smile suddenly dropped… because something caught your eye. 

Red hair poking out from under a cream coloured beanie… and a scarf that looked a lot like the one you bought Kylie for her birthday. 

You froze. 

“Noah,” you said slowly, squinting ahead. “Am I losing my mind… or is that…”

He followed your gaze.

He spotted a familiar tall blonde stood near the railing, laughing as he tried to help a redhead adjust her scarf. She looked up at him, her eyes bright, shoving him playfully when he said something you couldn’t hear.

You gasped.

“No fucking way! Is that Kylie… and Matt?!”

Noah blinked once. Then twice.

“…Holy shit.” He whispered. 

You both stopped dead in your tracks, staring.

“They look..” you started.

“…very happy,” Noah finished, a grin already tugging at his mouth.

As if sensing they were being watched, Kylie glanced up, and her eyes locked straight onto yours.

Her face dropped and she suddenly went even paler than usual.

Matt followed her gaze, and despite not being able to hear him, you both saw the way he said “oh shit!” 

They both did the same thing at the same time, and turned away- like if they pretended not to see you, you wouldn’t exist. 

But you weren’t letting them get away with this!!

“Oh no,” you shook your head, already moving. “Absolutely not.”

You tightened your grip on Noah’s hand before he could even register what was happening.

“Wait- babe,” he laughed, stumbling a little as you dragged him along with you. “You’re serious?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

Kylie glanced back over her shoulder once more, panic written all over her face when she saw you marching straight toward them.

You grabbed skates, barely listening to the guy behind the counter, already tugging Noah along toward the bench.

“You’re aware,” Noah said as he struggled into his skates, “That this is gonna end with one of us on the floor.”

“Yes,” you replied sweetly, tightening your laces. “And I’m hoping it’s Matt.”

He laughed, shaking his head. 

Once you were both up and on the ice- slightly wobbly, Noah gripping the railing for dear life- you scanned the ice.

And you found them instantly!! 

Matt was holding hands with Kylie as they skated along the edge, trying very hard to look unbothered. 

“Oh my god,” you said. “They’re holding hands. Look!” 

“Hey, they’re kinda cute!” Noah chuckled as you both stepped on to the ice, with you clinging to Noah’s arm for balance.

“Okay,” he said, “This isn’t gonna work, let’s just leave them.”

“No we’re not. C’mon Mr Hot Gym Guy. Keep up.”

Rather slowly, you made your way towards them. 

Matt spotted you first, freezing. Then Kylie followed his gaze, and plastered on a big fake smile. 

“Hi!” She said, almost sounding scared. 

Noah cleared his throat loudly as you came to a stop right in front of them, your hands still firmly around his arm.

“Well,” he said pleasantly. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes. 

“Care to explain why my best friend is canoodling with my boyfriend’s best friend in the middle of Winter Wonderland?”

“Hey it’s not-“

“What it looks like?” you finished for Matt, squinting at him. “Then what is this?”

Kylie looked at Matt then back at you, her lips pressed together before finally saying. 

“Well… I guess I should tell you… me and Matt have been seeing each other for a while.” 

Your mouth fell open.

“We didn’t want to say anything until you and Noah sorted things out.” Matt explained, and Kylie nodded. 

“I’m sorry…” she said with a little frown, “You’re not mad, are you?” 

You looked at her, the way her arm was curled around Matt’s, the way her cheeks were flushed and her eyes brighter than you’ve seen in a long time. They looked good together, that was undeniable. 

“How can I be mad,” you said after a moment, and Kylie and Matt both dropped their shoulders in relief, “You two are adorable! It was a bit of a shock… my best friend and my boyfriend’s best friend?!” 

Kylie let out a breathy laugh and squeezed your hand.

“I really was going to tell you babe, I promise!”

“I know,” you smiled. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets, you would’ve cracked eventually.”

Matt cleared his throat, clearly eager to stay in your good books.

“Hey why don’t I get us all some churros? I could do with something hot right now.” 

You pretended to think about it, glancing at Noah who gave you a look as if to say “it’s your call.” 

“…Alright,” you grinned. “And for that, you can stay.”

You and Kylie exchanged a look before you both pushed off together, skating ahead with a little more confidence than the boys.

“Awh,” Kylie cooed, glancing back over her shoulder. “Look at them!”

Behind you, Noah was gripping Matt’s sleeve.

“Why are you going so fast?!” Matt hissed.

“I’m not!” Noah shot back. “You’re pushing me!”

“I am absolutely not-“

There was a sudden, very loud curse.

“Oh, for fu-“

Followed by a big thud.

You and Kylie came to a stop, spinning around just in time to see both men sprawled on the ice, Noah on his ass and Matt flat on his back, both of them silent for a moment before they burst out laughing. 

You couldn’t help but laugh too, grabbing on to Kylie as she started to giggle beside you. 

“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “You okay back there, boys?”

Noah lifted one hand weakly, and you skated back over to him, offering him your hand. 

“Need some help, pretty boy?” 

He looked up at you, grinning despite himself as he slipped his hand into yours. You leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Kylie helped Matt up beside you, shaking her head fondly.

Noah slung an arm around your waist once he was steady again, pulling you close as the lights glowed around you and music drifted through the cold air.

“Okay, you definitely owe me some churros after pulling me down with you.” He laughed as Matt shook his head. 

“Dude, you fell first!” 

…

After leaving the rink, the four of you wandered to the churros stall. Matt paid for everyone’s and you walked around together for a moment as you ate, but then you almost felt bad for crashing their date- even if it was an accident…

As Kylie and Matt giggled over something, you squeezed Noah’s hand, grabbing his attention, tilting his head down to look at you with a little “hm?” 

“Why don’t we leave them to it? I feel bad that we interrupted their date.” You said, and he nodded. 

“Alright you two,” Noah said, throwing an arm around your shoulders before nodding towards the path behind them, “Go have fun, enjoy your night.”

“But don’t have too much fun!” You giggled, pointing a finger at Kylie, “I know you.”

Kylie laughed and leaned in to hug you tight.

“Thanks for being okay with this… I love you.”

“Love you too,” you smiled. Then you looked at Matt, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Take care of her.”

“Yes miss.” He said with a cheeky smile.

Matt and Kylie waved as they walked off hand in hand. You stood there for a moment, watching them go, smiling softly.

“Cute.” Noah said quietly.

“Very.” You agreed, leaning into him, “Like us.”

“Oh, no. Not as cute as us.” Noah chuckled, kissing your cheek. 

You wandered on, churros in hand, weaving through the crowds and stands, until Noah suddenly slowed.

“Oh… hold on.” He said. 

You followed his gaze to one of the game stalls with bright lights. A crowd of people watching as someone took aim.

And you recognised that someone…

“Is that your friend?” You asked, “The kind one that helped me in the elevator… Nicholas?”

Nick stood at the counter, focused and determined, tossing rings onto the poles while his girlfriend stood beside him, bundled up in a big coat, her gloved hands clasped together as she cheered him on.

“C’mon Nicky, you’ve got this!” She smiled.

You didn’t see the outcome of the next ring tossed, but you heard a bell ring, then Nick turned around, his face lit up as he gasped. 

“No way- yes!”

A moment later, the lady working behind the counter heaved a massive teddy bear over to Nick. 

Nick passed it over to his girlfriend, grinning like he’d just won a grammy or something. She wrapped her arms around the bear and kissed Nick on the cheek with a big smile. 

You couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s really sweet.” You said, feeling your heart melt just watching the way Nick looked at his girlfriend. 

Noah watched them for a second longer, a fond look on his face. 

“Yeah. That’s Ruffilo for you.”

Nick glanced up then, spotting you and Noah. His grin widened immediately.

“No way!” he called, lifting a hand. “You guys are here?!”

His girlfriend turned too, smiling brightly despite the bear in her way.

You waved back, laughing, nudging Noah gently. 

“Did you all plan this? To come on the same night?” 

“No, we didn’t,” he chuckled, “I feel like I should’ve come up with a better idea, take you somewhere else, somewhere better where-“ 

You gave him a look, shutting him up. 

“Noah, this is perfect. Tonight’s been perfect. It doesn’t matter if we’re at winter wonderland or sitting on a park bench… if I’m with you then it’s the perfect.” 

You could tell that caught Noah off guard completely, the way he froze, the way he looked at you like you had just knocked the air from his lungs. 

Then he smiled. It wasn’t teasing or smug or flirty… it was almost shy, completely real. 

You noticed Nick and his girlfriend tried to make their way to you, but got pulled away by the crowd. You could just about spot the big teddy bear bobbing up and down above people’s heads. So then you and Noah kept walking too, but slower not, not in any rush. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been here for now, but Noah ended up buying another hot chocolate even after insisting you didn’t need one, so he bought a big one to share, your gloves bumping as you took turns sipping from the cup, laughing when he got cream on his top lip and wiping it away with your thumb. 

At one point you both stopped to watch the ferris wheel turning slowly in the dark sky, the both of you tilting your heads, a smile spreading across your face. 

“Next time,” Noah said quietly, standing behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your head, “We’ll go on that.” 

“Next time?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. 

“Mhm,” his arms tightened around you, “I’m planning on a lot of next times with you.”  

Your heart melted into a puddle in your chest… 

Eventually, the cold started to creep in a little more, your legs grew tired and the crowds started thinning as people began to drift towards the exits. You leaned into Noah as you walked, your steps syncing without even thinking about it. 

“You tired?” He asked softly. 

“A little.” You answered. 

“Wanna head back?” 

You nodded, and the two of you started to make your way back, hand in hand. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly after a moment. 

“For what?” He asked. 

“For tonight. For… us. For not giving up on me even when I was being stubborn.” 

He stopped walking for a second so he could turn to face you fully, under the glow of the warm lights. 

“Of course,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you, I should be the one thanking you for letting me, for giving me a second chance, to do things the right way. You have my whole heart, angel. You have done since the day we met.” 

You weren’t too sure how to respond to that, so without even thinking you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, he tasted like chocolate and sugar. 

“I promise I’ll keep it safe,” you whispered, “For as long as you let me.” 

…

The drive back to Noah’s place wasn’t too long, in every moment he could he’d take your hand, pressing kisses against your skin, telling you how pretty you looked in the city lights, resting his hand on your thigh. Your heart had never felt so full. 

Once inside, Noah kicked off his shoes and led you to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, and poured another for you. 

“Make yourself at home,” he said, “I’ve got something to take care of quickly, but I’ll be right back.” 

And so you did. You got ready for bed, taking a shower, letting the warmth of the water wash away the cold from outside, your muscles finally relaxing. You used Noah’s products, making you smile to yourself as it was clear he likes to take care of himself. You used his fancy shampoo and conditioner, and the body wash that smelled like him… you couldn’t believe just how much he felt like home. 

You pulled on the pyjamas you packed for tonight, the material soft against your skin. You then washed your face and brushed your teeth. By the time you wandered back down the hall, towel drying your hair, you felt clean and very much at ease and ready to get into bed with your boyfriend. 

And then you stepped into his bedroom. 

You paused by the door… 

Rose petals were scattered across the bed like a scene from a movie. Soft amber light flickered from vanilla scented candles scattered across the room- some on the dresser, some on the nightstands. And you could hear soft music playing quietly from the speakers by his tv… it sounded a lot like missing limbs by sleep token…

“Oh…” you smiled to yourself, stepping in, “And here I thought we were just going to bed.” 

Behind you, you heard footsteps.

You turned to see Noah standing by the doorframe, still in his clothes from earlier- black pants and a grey jumper, the sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. His hair was still messy from the wind, which he’d tried running a hand through it but still it refused to cooperate. 

He slowly stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him with a click. You looked up at his face, ready with another teasing comment… but it died on your lips when you noticed you couldn’t quite read him. 

He wasn’t smirking, he wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t even smiling… 

He looked nervous. 

“Noah?” You asked softly, “Are you okay?”

He swallowed, nodding his head like he was preparing himself. He crossed the room slowly, stopping a few steps away from you. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “I just… I need you to let me say this before you interrupt me, okay?”

That alone made your heart race, but you nodded. 

Noah took a deep breath. 

“I know this probably sounds stupid,” he began, his eyes locked on yours, “We’ve barely even known each other for a year. I know how that looks- hell, I know how that sounds.” 

You bit down on your lip nervously. 

“But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” he took a step closer, “I wasn’t looking for anything back when I met you, I wasn’t expecting anything… but out of nowhere, you appeared in my life and now I don’t know how to live, how to function without you. You’re all I think about- you’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the mornings, you’re the first person I want to talk to when I get good news… you’re my home.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, praying he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. 

“It was when we were apart that it really hit me… I wasn’t just missing you, I realised I couldn’t imagine living my life without you. All the other shit- the touring, success, awards… all this shit,” he gestured vaguely across the room, “None of it matters if I don’t get to come back to you, if I don’t get to share it with you.” 

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, but he caught it, reaching out and brushing it away with his thumb. 

“I don’t care if people think this is too fast… I don’t care if it even scares me a little. I’ve always lived by the saying that when you know, you know… and I know exactly how I picture spending the rest of my life… and who I spend it with. So why should we wait?” 

He let out a shaky breath… and dropped down to one knee. 

You couldn’t help but let out a broken sob, your hand covered your mouth but it did nothing to stop that sound that escaped. 

“Noah-” 

He smiled up at you, his eyes glossy, terrified but hopeful, and so full of love it almost hurt to look at. 

You watched him reach into his pocket. 

“You told me earlier that you promised to keep my heart safe… for as long as I want.” 

With shaky hands, he pulled out a little black velvet box, opening it up, showing you the ring- though your eyes were so blurred from the tears you couldn’t even see it. 

“I want you to have it forever.” He said softly, his voice quiet and broken like he was trying not to cry himself, “And I promise to do the same for you, on the good days and the bad, in the times when all we have is each other… because I love you.” 

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Will you marry me?”

Time seemed to have stopped.

You didn’t know how to react, you knew exactly what you wanted to say- yes! But you dropped to your knees in front of him without thinking, cradling his face in your hands as you let the tears fall now, your forehead pressing against him as you whispered,

“Yes!” You kissed the corner of his mouth, your shoulders shaking from where you were crying, “Yes, Noah.. oh, a thousand times yes!!” 

A broken laugh left him as he exhaled, relief crashing over him all at once. He kissed you back, his hands a little rough as he grabbed your face, like he was too overwhelmed to realise how strong he was. 

When he pulled back, his slipped the ring on to your finger with trembling hands, and stood up, pulling you so tight into his arms that your feet raised from the ground. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, “I love you so much it makes me feel like an idiot.” 

“You are,” you giggled through the tears, “But I love you more.” 

That night was too soft for sex. You couldn’t even think about that, so the both of you lied in the bed, rose petals now scattered across the floor, half the candles burned out, the music had stopped playing a long while ago, but the screen was still lit. 

All you two wanted to do was hold each other, as if to remind yourselves this was real. Noah would press the occasional kiss to your forehead, and your fingers would trace over the ink on his skin… but you both laid there for a long time in silence, just letting it all sink in.

Eventually though, Noah broke the silence. 

“Hey,” he whispered, “What are you thinking about?”

You shifted just a little so you could look up at him. His eyes were already on you, soft and a little dazed. 

“Us,” you said honestly, "How far we’ve come since the days me and my friends would watch you out the window, the first kickboxing class… our first date." 

A small smile tugged at his lips. 

“I think about that all the time.” 

He shifted slightly too so you could be more comfortable. He pulled the blanket higher around your shoulders before resting his chin gently on the top of your head. 

“I know it might sound stupid,” he said after a moment, his voice a little hesitant and vulnerable, “But I’ve been thinking about the future a lot. Not just tours and shit but… us too.” 

“Like the dream you had about the cabin?” You asked, and you heard him chuckle softly. 

“Yeah… like that.” 

“I didn’t tell you back then because I was worried it might scare you… but I’ve had dreams like that too. “

“Yeah?” His brows knitted together in surprise. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “But in mine… it’s strange. I was grocery shopping, and when I came home I’d leave the bags by the door because I could hear laughing from the living room. It was your laugh...” 

He stilled. 

“You’d be kneeling on the floor, with this little girl in front of you. You had pasta sauce all over you, and she was wearing a bad omens tshirt… she’s got your eyes and nose, but she’s got my hair and my smile… you were teaching her kickboxing,” you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, “You’d tell her to fix her stance and then lift your hands up, she’d throw the cutest little punches… and you were really good with her. She loved you so much, she didn’t even notice I came home.” 

You turned your head to look up at Noah, and he was already looking down at you, his eyes just full of love. 

“I don’t know her name, but I remember the way she looked at you. Like you were her whole world.” 

Noah ran his fingers through your hair, his eyes full of tears that he wouldn’t let slip. He just pulled you closer, holding you tighter. 

“Angel, I’m not giving you a ring and a baby in the same night.” He said softly. 

You let out a little chuckle against his chest. 

“We don’t have to rush.” He continued, “We’ve got all the time in the world. I just want to wake up next to you, come home to you, build something that’s ours first…” 

“That’s all I want too.” You said, nuzzling against him. 

He smiled then and leaned down to kiss you, as if sealing a promise. 

“I want to give you everything,” he said quietly, “Anything you could ever ask for. One day we’ll have that cabin in the woods. And maybe that little girl, or a boy- or even both.” His thumb brushed your cheek, “But right now, tonight, I just want you right here with me… and then tomorrow I want to be there to hear your friends' reactions when you tell them you just got engaged to the hot gym guy.” 

“Noah!” You groaned, knowing that even in 50 years time, when you’re both sitting hand in hand in a care home, he’ll still never let you live that down...

You thought it all started on a random Tuesday evening, when you were asked to stay a little later in the office, and you were in a rush to get back home to your friends, but spotted a guy so hot outside the gym that he made you walk into a glass door…

But it really started on a Wednesday night, laying in bed with the love of your life, talking about where you’d like to go on your honeymoon, names for your future children, what kind of rugs you’d buy for the cabin… and right in that very moment, you were so glad your friends encouraged you to join that kickboxing class.  

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

-sidenote, i don't know if winter wonderland is a thing anywhere else, but there's one in london and i've told my friends we should go every year and we STILL haven't :( but anyways..

she's finished 🥺 a big big big big thank you to everyone who's read this story, liked it, reblogged it, commented, sent me requests for it... all of that. it's definitely been one of my favourite things to ever write and it'll always have such a special place in my heart! i started writing because i just wanted a cutesy wholesome little world to escape to and just writing it brought me so much comfort, and i've had some people tell me it's their comfort story too so that just makes me feel so <33

also... i mentioned MONTHS ago about possibly writing a sequel for this story... and i MIGHT have started planning that too... if that's something you want🤭

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You woke up to warmth, to quiet, and to an uncomfortable ache in your neck. 

For a long moment, you didn’t move. The air in the room was rather cold, so you tugged the covers up over you and Noah a little more, and snuggled back up to him with a little content smile as you felt his chest rise and fall beneath you. 

You turned a little, careful not to wake him, and your eyes found his face.

His hair was a mess, falling across his eyes and into his face. His lips were slightly parted, and there was the faintest crease between his brows as he snored softly.

Your brain, betraying you, decided to think back to his notebook, to the lyrics he’d written. Was I not good enough? Worthy of being loved?

And looking at him now, so still and quiet, so peaceful, you couldn’t understand how he ever believed that. You couldn’t believe that nobody had ever loved him before… because it was so easy.

This morning, he looked peaceful. He looked rather human in a way you hadn’t seen before. All the teasing and sarcasm and arrogance was gone, and right now you were looking at the real Noah. 

You lifted a hand slowly, brushing a stray hair from his face, your fingertips lingering against his temple. He stirred a little, his arm tightening around your waist.

“Idiot,” you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. “You’re not alone.”

You didn’t even know if you meant for him to hear it. Maybe you just needed to say it aloud, just to make it real somehow.

Your eyes drifted to the sunlight that was spilling onto the bed through the gap in his curtains. It must still be early. And as you lay there, you realised you didn’t want to move. Not now, and maybe not ever. 

You didn’t want to wake him or break whatever fragile thing this was.

So you stayed there. You let your fingers trace the tattoos on his chest. Watched his chest continue to rise and fall, and tried not to think about how this really made you feel… how you were really catching feelings for him. 

He started to stir not long after. A sleepy hum left his throat as he blinked one eye open, a sleepy smirk forming when he realised you were watching him.

“Staring at me while I'm asleep?” His voice was deep, a little rough from sleep. “That’s kinda creepy, babe.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. He caught your hand before you could pull away, lacing his fingers through yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles lazily.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He mumbled through a lazy grin

“Morning.” You said back, though it came out quieter than you expected.

For a moment, you both just lay there with each other. There was no teasing, no jokes, just your hand in his. Fuck, he wasn’t sure if a girl had ever stayed this long in his bed. Usually, after sex, they go on their way and leave him before the sun would rise, leaving him full of emptiness and regret. But this morning, the both of you came to the realisation that maybe neither of you had to be so alone anymore...

“C’mere.” Noah tugged you impossibly closer. 

“I am here.” You chuckled, fighting a smile.

“Mm, nope. Not close enough.” He said, and before you could argue, he was sitting up and pulling you gently into his lap.

“Noah!” You laughed quietly. 

He buried his face in your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. 

“Mmh. You’re warm.” He said against your skin, pressing gentle kisses to where your shoulder met your neck. 

You rolled your eyes, but your arms slipped around him anyway, your fingers brushing the nape of his neck. He still smelled like sleep and soap and whatever cologne he uses. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, you just sat there together, in your own little world sharing sleepy morning kisses, not feeling a need to fill the silence between you.

Noah had never let himself feel so vulnerable like this. He was afraid maybe he was giving a bit too much of himself, since you made it clear you didn't like him quite the way he liked you. However, what he didn’t know was that you were afraid of the exact same thing. You told yourself maybe you should slow down a little, because Maya’s words still played in your head., and you didn’t want to get hurt. 

But when his kisses became hungrier, it made it almost impossible to pull away. His lips trailed from yours back to your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin, making your stomach flip. One large hand slid down your back slowly, until his fingers splayed almost possessively over your ass, pulling you tighter against him. 

You could feel him hardening beneath you, thick and prominent even through his pants, sending a shiver down your spine. A soft gasp slipped your lips as his other hand moved from your hip, he pulled away from your neck and cupped your face in one hand, forcing your eyes on him. 

“Can I eat you out?” He asked, already breathless, eyes dark.  

You swallowed hard. That's one thing he’s not done before, and you felt a little nervous. Panic crossed over you, you worried a little and started to feel quite self concious but then-

You whimpered as his hand suddenly slipped under your tank top, cupping one of your breasts, his thumb brushing your nipple. 

“It’s okay to say no, y'know.” He said, “We can just keep doing this-”

“No,” you shook your head, “I want it. Please.” You said, watching a lazy grin spread across his face. 

“As you wish, princess.” He smirked, and with a surprising gentleness, he guided you off his lap and laid you back against the pillows. 

He kissed your lips, then your jaw, then your neck. He took his time, kissing down your body, his teeth grazing your flesh every now and then as he looked up at you through his lashes. He pushed your top up, exposing the soft skin of your tummy as he continued on his way down. 

When he hooked his fingers into your shorts, he looked up at you as if to ask for permission again. And when you gave a soft, dizzy nod of your head, he tugged them down. 

“Oh, baby…” He grinned, his eyes lighting up like a kid on christmas, “What do we have here?” 

His large hand cupped you over the lace thong you had slipped on last night before coming back to him. It was nothing too special, but he looked quite delighted. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me last night?” He asked, smirking evilly as his fingers traced over your lower lips, tpuching everywhere excpet for where you needed him. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak too much. 

“Oh, babe. The birthday gifts just don’t end, do they?” He grinned before leaning down, and he kissed you over the lace, then his tongue poked out, and you felt the warmth of it along with his breath as he groaned against you. “Fuck, can’t wait to taste you properly.” 

This was it. This was how you die. With Noah Sebastian’s head buried between your thighs. 

“Don’t wanna take this off. It’s too pretty,” he pouted, his thumb slipping under the waistband of the underwear, “But I know what's underneath is even prettier… isn’t it, baby?”

Seriously. This will be the death of you.

You couldn't answer, you felt too dizzy, and he could tell. He chuckled softly before tugging the lace down, and you moved your legs, letting him take them off and gently throw them down on the floor along with your shorts. 

He let himself settle between your thighs properly this time. His broad shoulders pushed your legs wider, and the cool air of the room hit your exposed core, making you shiver again. Then his warm breath followed, ghosting over your slick folds, and you felt his thumbs gently part your lips, exposing everything to his hungry gaze. 

“Can’t believe I’m the only one you trust to touch you here…” He said, almost trancelike as his thumb traced a gentle circle over your entrance, gathering some of the wetness before sliding it up to graze over your clit, making you squirm. 

He watched your reactions carefully, noting down in his mind every hitch in your breath, every time you’d involuntary clench around nothing, every little sound. Then, he parted his lips, the tip of his tongue dragging tortuously along your inner lips, avoiding your clit, avoiding your entrance. 

“Noah, please…” You whispered, though it sounded more like a gasp, your body arching- though that was soon stopped as his hands came down on your stomach, holding you in place. 

“Hm?” He lifted his head slightly, feigning innocence. “You want something, babe?”  

You nodded frantically, not caring how stupid and desperate you looked. 

“Stop teasing… please just… touch me… there.” 

He chuckled softly, smiling up at your frustration. 

“Here?” He asked, his tongue flicking just below your clit. 

“Higher! There!” You insisted, growing even more desperate. 

He decided to give in, his tongue flattening against you, giving one long, wet stroke from your core upwards, making you cry out. Then, he zeroed in. His lips closed over your clit and with the most perfect pressure, not too hard, not too soft, he gently sucked. 

And fuck. You’ve never felt anything like it. 

Your back attempted to arch again, feeling pleasure rush to your head. He moaned against you, the vibration only adding to the dizzying feeling. 

He really took his time, and to be honest you didn’t expect anything less. He let it build slowly, licking long stripes through your folds, savouring the taste like this would be his only chance. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it again, varying the pressure and rhythm based on the sounds you made and the way your hips would try to move under his hands. And when you didn’t think it could get any better, you felt the tip of his index finger circle your entrance, before it slowly dipped in, sliding deep inside with ease thanks to how soaked and needy you already were. He twisted his wrist, then crooked his finger perfectly, finding that spot inside you as his mouth continued to work your clit. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled by your flesh, “Could do this forever.” 

Fuck, it was all too overwhelming in the most delicious way possible. Your thighs trembled as a second long, thick finger joined the first, helping your orgasm build and build… 

You tried to warn him, your nails dug into his shoulders, you whimpered, you whined, you babbled incoherently… but it only spurred him on. He sucked harder, his nose nuzzling against your mound, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder.

With a raw, needy cry, you came. It stole your breath and your vision for the briefest moment, he moved his hands and let your hips buck against his mouth as you rode it out, tears spilling from your eyes as he kept licking and sucking you through it, drawing out all he could until you were whimpering, pushing weakly at his head. 

“Too much… Noah, too much…” You panted, feeling boneless and utterly spent. 

Slowly, he lifted his head, his lips and chin glistening wetly in the morning light. His eyes were still dark as he took in the sight of the wreckage he’d made of you- trembling limbs, tear streaked cheeks, chest heaving. He gently slipped his fingers out of you, and crawled back up your body, kissing a trail up your stomach and between your breasts again. 

“How was it?” He asked against your lips. 

“...Amazing.” You breathed, still catching your bread as he kissed you once on the lips, and you could taste yourself on him. 

God, the sight of him, he was hard as rock beneath his pants, his eyes still dark and needy… it ignited something within you again. He was so good to you, and now you wanted to see him lose control. 

You pushed against his chest, gently but firmly. Understanding flickered in his eyes, and he flipped the two of you again. He was now laying with his back against the mattress whilst you swung a leg over his hips to straddle him again. You reached down, tugging down his sweats impatiently, freeing his cock- thick and flushed at the tip, veins prominent against the hard shaft, already leaking... you bit your lip, taking him into your hand and looking into his eyes as you gave him one pump in your hand, then carefully lifted yourself up. He helped to guide the head towards your entrance, then slowly, you sank down onto him, biting down harder on your lip as you felt the delicious stretch. 

“Shit… ohh fuck.” He groaned as you sunk down completely, burying him deep inside. The sensation was intense for the both of you, you were so tight, warm and wet around him, and you were still sensitive. 

But fuck, you felt so full. 

“That’s it… get comfortable. Only move when you’re ready.” 

You nodded and began to move, suddenly unsure of what to do. You rolled your hips experimentally at first, trying to find a rhythm and an angle that dragged him deliciously against that spot inside you. You braced your hands on his broad chest, and a lazy smirk spread across Noah’s lips as he watched you above him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He enjoyed the view above him, the bounce of your tits still confined in your bra, the glowy sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face… but he could tell you weren’t sure how to do this. 

“Mm,” he hummed after a moment, and you could already tell he was about to say something that’d make you want to smack him, “Is that all you’ve got, babe? C’mon, ride me like you mean it.” 

“Shut up.” Your brows furrowed as frustration took over. Your movements faltered for a second, before stubborn determination set in. You lifted yourself higher off him before coming back down with more force, your walls squeezing around him as you did so. 

“Fuck.. that’s better.” Noah groaned though gritted teeth, his smirk vanishing. 

So you did it again, and again, riding him harder, faster, messier. You watched Noah squeeze his eyes shut as you continued, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room along with his groans and your breathless gasps. 

You shifted your hips again, trying to angle him just right… but every time you bounced on him, the perfect spot was still frustratingly out of reach. Noah was watching you struggle, panting beneath you. His dark, heavy lidded eyes tracked every movement, every tilt of your hips, every time your brows drew together in frustration. He chuckled, one hand coming up to brush his thumb against your cheek. 

“Can’t quite find that sweet spot, huh?” His voice was raspy as his other hand remained on your hip, his thumb digging into where your thighs met your hips, controlling your descent slightly on the next downstroke, slowing you down agonisingly. “Driving yourself crazy trying to make yourself cum on my cock?”

You whimpered, shaking your head stubbornly even as he told the truth. You lifted again, shifting your hips again, determined to get his dick to grind against that spot perfectly this time… 

And as you came back down, you felt it, a spark of white hot pleasure as the head dragged against that ridge inside you. Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, your eyes falling shut. And just as you were about to do it again… you were stopped. 

Hands came around you, and before you could even process what was happening, he flipped you onto your back again. 

Your gasp was cut off as the air was stolen from your lungs, because his weight was pressing down on top of you, and with one arm, he hooked your knee up, resting your leg over his shoulder. He planted one hand firmly beside your head, and did not hesitate before slamming back into you, burying himself to the hilt with one rough, mean thrust. 

“Fuck-” The cry tore from your throat. Somehow he was even deeper than before, and hitting that spot you couldn’t quite find just now. 

“That the spot, baby?” He growled against your ear, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

He didn’t wait for an answer, or for you to say anything, because he dragged his cock almost all the way out, before pounding back into you. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

The bedframe embarassingly banged against the wall with each thrust of his hips, it was as if he was fucking you like he was purposely trying to break the damn bed, and he was burying himself so deep, all you could do was pant and claw your nails against his skin. 

“Look at you taking my dick, baby… oh.. who would’ve thought.” He chuckled darkly against your skin again before his lips pressed a soft kiss to your neck. 

His free hand slowly dragged between your bodies, finding your already overstimulated clit, brushing the rough pad of this thumb over it just once, making you whine and shudder.

“Noah!” You groaned, though it came out as more of a whimper. 

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby… wanna feel that tight pussy squeeze me… look how well she’s taking me.” 

You shook your head, but it was no use, because you could already feel the pleasure building within you again with every stroke. You gripped onto his bicep with one hand, the other raked your nails down his sweat slicked back, and all you could do was sob as it consumed you, cries of overwhelming pleasure as you came around him. 

Feeling you pulse and clamp around him sent Noah over the edge too, with a guttural groan muffled against your shoulder, driving himself into you one last time, he was buried balls deep as he came. 

He collapsed onto you for a moment, the two of you panting, trying to catch your breath. The room now smelled like sex, a little sweaty, salty, musky. His cologne and your perfume mixing together as your bodies stayed stuck together. 

He slowly softened inside you, but made no move to pull out just yet. He lifted his head slightly to look down at you, and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your trembling lips before carefully shifting his weight off and pulling out. 

You flinched slightly at the sensation, and now everything felt hypersensitive. The cool air felt like a burn to your exposed core as a messy mixture of his release and yours trickled out of you and onto the already ruined sheets. 

Noah watched, his lips parted slightly as his hand caressed your thigh, keeping you open for him. He leaned down a little, and you felt his warm breath ghosting over you again. 

“Noah what are you-” 

“Gotta clean my mess up.” He said through a wrecked smirk, but the moment his tongue swiped through the mess between your thighs, you gasped, your legs trying to clamp shut as you smacked at his shoulder, but when that didn’t stop him, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging at it in protest. 

“Ahh! No, no, no… too much, Noah…!!” You whimpered weakly, tugging at his hair again until he looked up at you. 

He froze immediately, watching up at you with concern in his features. Instead of insisting or teasing again, he simply pressed a soft kiss to your trembling lower belly. 

“Okay,” he whispered against your skin, his voice surprisingly soft, “Okay…” He kissed that same spot again, just below your navel before pushing himself back up, and coming to lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his side, pressing gentle, soft kisses over any spot of skin he could find. 

How the fuck were you not supposed to catch feelings when you two act like this?

“I’m sorry if I was too rough or-”

“No, you were perfect… I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard.” You say through blushing cheeks as you tilt your head to look at him. 

Then, just as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, his phone rang. 

He frowned, reaching over on to the nightstand for it. 

“...It’s your uncle?”

Your brows furrowed as he answered. 

“Hey-”

“Where the hell are you? Noah, have you forgotten we still open on Saturdays? It’s almost 9am!!”

“SHIT!!” You gasped, your eyes widening. You had completely forgotten you still had work today, you didn’t plan on coming home with Noah after the party, and you certainly didn’t plan on staying. 

“...Was that y/n? She’s not in either but I know she said she was going out last night… are you two? Did you two-”

“No!!” You gasped, “No! Steve, I’m… I just stopped by Noah’s place on my way in! I came over to get his ass out of bed.” 

Noah turned his head, giving you a filthy smirk. 

“More like taking my ass to bed-” 

“We’ll be there in 20.” You said, before reaching over to press the red hang up button on his phone. 

“I think he knows, babe.” Noah chuckled, giving you a lazy, fucked out smirk. 

“No he doesn’t! There’s nothing to know!” 

“Mmhm,” he patted your thigh, “Keep telling yourself that… hey, do you want a coffee or.. take a shower or something? I don’t care how I look at that place but-”

“Uh…” You sat up straight, pulling your top down, covering your bra again and pulling his sheets back up so it at least covered you up to your waist. “Do you think we could leave now, you could drop me home so I can quickly get changed then maybe we could get a coffee before going in?”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

… 

“We’re definitely getting fired.” You said as you took a sip of coffee, sinking into his passenger seat. 

“Hey, Steve likes me too much to fire me… you on the other hand.” 

“Shut up!” You swatted at his arm, despite the smile creeping on to your lips. 

When you pulled up to the garage, you took a deep breath. You’d never been late before, that’s one thing you were so proud of, but now you were walking in 20 minutes late, limping slightly thanks to the guy by your side. 

“There you two are!” Steve called, rolling out from under the car he was working on. “I almost had to call the police, y/n’s never been late before!” 

“Well, blame him.” You said, shooting Noah a playful glare. 

“Yeah… my bad.” Noah said, “It’s reallt hard to get out of bed when there’s a pretty girl laying with me.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, trying to play it off as if he wasn’t talking about you…  

“Hey, y/n, don’t start getting jealous!” Your uncle laughed, and you and Noah both shared a look. 

“I’ve got work to do!” You said, before rushing away into your office, shutting the door behind you with a long sigh. 

What. The. Fuck.

As you sat down at your desk, your brain finally had time to process what had happened- both last night and this morning. You and Noah had finally agreed to being friends with benefits… but scarily it felt like you were more than that. Because you always thought that being friends with benefits with someone meant that you didn’t have feelings for them, it was just for fun. Just sex.

Shit. You worried that this might not be as easy as you hoped. 

Still, you got on with your day. Saturdays were usually pretty easy, or the mornings were at least. Sometimes it’d get a little busy in the afternoon, but you didn’t really notice today. Because your mind was somewhere else the entire shift. 

You needed to talk to Maya. She was always the most logical friend, where Jess would encourage all your bad decisions, Maya was your voice of reason. You needed to tell her about your situation with Noah, and how you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep up the “just friends” act. 

So on your break, Noah let you sit in his car whilst your uncle took an important call in the office, and you made your own important call to Maya.

ring ring.. ring ring..

“Hey, sorry I can’t answer your call right now! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!” 

Voicemail? That’s weird. Her phone is literally always glued to her hand...

You didn’t leave a message, you just hung up. And called Jess instead. 

And of course, she picked up on the second ring. 

“Hi!” She beamed through the phone. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah-”

“Good, okay so I’ll cut to it- did you and Noah leave together last night?” You could practically hear the grin in her voice. 

“Maybe…” You couldn’t help the smile creeping up on your lips. 

“Eee!” She squealed, “I noticed the two of you disappeared! So… what happened? Did he just drop you back or…?”

“Well… I might’ve gone back to his place.” 

“YOU DID?!”

You couldn’t help but blush as you thought back on it all, and for once it didn’t make you feel stupid. 

“Yeah… turns out it was Noah’s birthday so I might’ve stayed the night…” 

For a moment, Jess was quiet, just long enough to make you feel suspicious- but then she chirped back up again. 

“Wait. You stayed at his place on his birthday… did the two of you-”

“Yep.” You could feel your cheeks hurting from how hard you were grinning, “But I was kinda tired last night so we just kissed, but oh my god, Jess. This morning…!”

“Morning sex?” She giggled, “You lucky bitch!” 

“But we kinda forgot it was Saturday today so it made us pretty late for work. Anyway, we talked last night about the whole… situation. And I can finally say that now we're officially friends with benefits.”

“FINALLY!!” Jess gasped, far too dramatically, “Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me this!! How do you feel? How does he feel? Wait no, tell me how you feel first..” 

You stared out the window for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“I… don’t know,” you admitted truthfully, “It’s supposed to just be fun, that’s what we agreed on. No strings. But, Jess, the way he kissed me last night, and this morning… It’s like…” 

Like he meant it. Like it wasn’t casual at all. 

“Like he’s used to that shit?” Jess scoffed, her attitude suddenly shifting confusingly quick. “He hooks up with tons of girls, don’t overthink it. And please don't catch feelings.” 

Weird. She’s the one who encouraged this all along. 

“Right…” You nodded slowly, slumping further into your seat. “Oh, I tried calling Maya just now but she didn’t answer, I wanted her opinion on it, on what I should do, but she didn’t answer. Do you know if everything’s okay?”

Jess was silent. 

“...Jess?”

“Yeah!” 

“...You hesitated.” 

“No I didn’t!” She tried to play it off. 

“Yes you did. Has something happened?”

Jess let out a slow, slightly uncomfortable sigh. 

“We uh… might’ve had an argument this morning.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. 

“You and Maya? About what? You guys have never argued before!” 

“I know,” Jess groaned, “Look, it wasn’t a big deal. She just told me something then I snapped and it got messy!”

“What did you both say?”

“I don’t wanna get into it.” She said a little too quickly, “It was something small, something stupid. She’ll call you back though, she's probably still sulking, don’t worry.”

“Jess.” 

“What?”

“...You’re acting weird.”

“I’m hungover!” She groaned, “Seriously, don’t think about it too much… get back to the fun stuff! Noah, naked, the-morning-after-his-birthday sex…” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to forget about what she had just told you, and told her about your night- and morning- instead. But in the back of your mind, it lingered. 

Jess was never one to start an argument, and with Maya of all people?

Something really must’ve gone wrong…

…

The setting sun cast orange rays through your office window, blinding you. Squinting against the light, you closed the blinds for the day, glancing over at the clock. 

Home time! Finally. 

Except you couldn’t go home… or at least not by yourself. Because you didn’t have your car, and you were too tired to walk. So you picked up your bag and walked through to the garage. 

Noah was putting all his tools away, running a hand through his messy hair, but he looked up the second he heard your footsteps. 

“Wanna ride?” He asked, a smirk plastered on his face. “Home, I mean. You already rode me this morn-” 

“Noah!” You hissed, glancing over at your uncle from the corner of your eye, but he was too busy to be listening in on the two of you. 

“Sorry, babe.” He chuckled, and you handed his car keys over to him and followed him out towards his car, saying goodbye to your uncle on your way out. 

“Thanks again for letting me sit in here on my break.” You said as you climbed into the passenger seat. 

“No problem,” he smiled, turning the keys in the engine, “So, who did you call? Jess? Maya? You got any new gossip for me?”

“Yeah, actually.” You said, turning to face him, “Jess and Maya had an argument…” 

He froze for a second, just long enough for you to notice it if you hadn’t been staring at how his fingers looked wrapped around the wheel. 

“Oh,” he said, trying to sound casual, “What about?”

“She wouldn’t tell me,” you sighed, “But Maya not answering her phone?... that’s not normal. She’s not like that. Something feels really off.” 

Noah swallowed hard. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

“Maybe.” You frowned, your head leaning against the window, “But they never argue. And Jess said she was being weird…” 

“I’m sure they’ll work it out,” Noah said, his jaw tensing for a moment before he forced it loose, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. That word shouldn’t make your stomach flip the way it does. 

Before you could respond, or say anything at all, Noah’s phone buzzed in the cup holder. Once, then twice, then three times. 

You didn’t look at it directly, but you saw the way the screen lit up. And you knew what kind of guy he was, and what the messages would most likely say- some variant of flirty message followed by are you free tonight? from other girls who wanted him. 

And of course they did. Look at him. 

You hated the way it made you feel when you thought about it. You’d never admit to being jealous… but you were. You 100% were. You’d just never confess to it out loud. 

But the feeling had been eating away at you all day ever since Jess said he hooks up with tons of girls, don’t overthink it. Because the way he treated you last night, the way he treated you this morning… the way he’s always been with you… you couldn’t imagine him treating every hookup like that. 

His phone buzzed again, and this time his eyes darted towards it. He reached a hand out and quickly put it on silent before putting it back. 

Your heart ached. 

Because how the fuck were you supposed to keep this casual when he treats you like you mean the world to him. 

You stayed quiet for the rest of the drive home, and Noah noticed. He kept glancing over, trying to read your mind, trying to work out what you were thinking and feeling… but he couldn’t. So he asked, 

“Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath in. 

“Yeah. I just… well, there’s something I want to talk about.” 

“...Okay.” He said, a little hesitantly. 

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding.. I dunno, stupid and clingy?... but if we’re gonna keep doing this whole friends with benefits thing…” 

Noah gave you a little nod as if to say he’s listening. 

“I was wondering if maybe… fuck it sounds so stupid. I... No. No! Pretend I never said anything.”

Noah’s brows knitted together as he glanced over at you. 

“Hey,” he frowned, “If there’s something you want to ask, just ask. It’s not stupid, babe. I want you to be happy, and if there’s something you have to say, then just say it.” 

You let out a long exhale, before giving him a short nod. 

“...I was thinking... I don’t want you sleeping with anybody else.” 

Noah’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting you to say that. 

“...You don’t?” He asked. 

“No,” you shook your head, “I want to be the only one from now on… if you’re okay with that.” 

The silence between you felt too heavy, and too long. But you watched a little smirk spread across his face, you saw the way he licked his lips, slow, like he was thinking, processing, and maybe a little surprised. 

“Sounds like you wanna be my girlfriend.” He teased, "Are you just jealous?"

“No!” You glared at him.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I kinda like it.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t ignore the way your cheeks burned. 

“I’m serious, Noah. If you want this with me… I want it to only be me. It probably sounds stupid and selfish of me  but… I don’t want to be just another one of the girls texting you.” 

Noah let out a small sigh, then he reached over, resting his hand over your thigh, his thumb brushing over your leggings. 

“You are not just another one of the girls,” he said, “And if it matters to you, if that’s what you want… then I’m not seeing anyone else.” 

“You’re not?” You whispered, a little taken back. 

“No,” He said honestly and firmly. “I don’t want to.”

Your heart fluttered. 

“But that means,” he added, his tone playful, “You can’t sleep with anyone else either.” 

“I wasn’t planning to.” You scoffed. 

“Good.” He smirked, his eyes back on the road, “But… I should warn you...” 

“Warn me about what?” You asked, your brows drawn together. 

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, that stupid confident glint in them that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“I’ve got a lot of needs…” 

You blushed so hard you almost felt a little light headed. 

“Fuck off Noah-” 

“So, if I’m down to one girl,” he hummed, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied little smirk, “You should probably prepare yourself.” 

Your jaw dropped. 

“You’re such a sick-” 

“I’m just kidding!” He laughed, before adding, “Kinda.” 

You sighed, shaking your head as you glanced back towards the window. 

He was silent for a moment, you both were, until he tapped your thigh gently. 

“Hey,” he said, and you turned your head back to him, “If this is just us now… I’m good with that. More than good.” 

Before you had a chance to say anything else, he pulled up outside your house. And weirdly, for the first time ever, you wished the drive was longer. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You said as you reached for your bag. 

“You’re welcome.” He said with a soft smile, “Uh… so I’m busy tonight, but I was wondering tomorrow… can I see you? Maybe we could go for dinner or watch a movie… or both? I don’t really care, I just… wanna see you.”

He almost sounded nervous.

“Sure.” You said, not even bothering to hide the grin on your face. “See you tomorrow.” 

His eyes softened the way they always did around you as you reached for the door, getting out and stepping onto the curb. You gave him a little wave as you walked up to your door, and he waved back. 

Only once the front door shut behind you, did he exhale, sit back and finally reach for the phone he’d been ignoring the entire drive. 

It was flooded with messages. 

All from one person. 

You said you were sick Noah?? 

Are you fucking serious? 

I can’t believe you’d seriously cancel plans with me to spend your birthday with her???

You know she doesn't even like you, right??? 

What the hell is wrong with you 

You know how I feel about you

This isn’t fair 

ANSWER ME 

DONT IGNORE ME WTF

NOAH SEBASTIAN DAVIS!!

He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh before cursing under his breath. He hadn’t even thought about her last night, not even once, because he’d been too busy with you. Busy laughing with you, kissing you, holding you, waking up tangled up with you… 

Fuck, when he was with you it was like the rest of the world didn’t matter, it didn’t exist. 

But now he was in the middle of a mess he wasn’t sure how to get out of. 

Because he didn’t care about her. But he cared about you. He didn’t ever listen to the crap she had to say, but he always listened to you. 

And he knew from the moment you told him that Jess and Maya had an argument, that the secret had gotten out. 

That Jess found out that Maya and Noah had been hooking up. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

MWAHAHAHAH HERE COMES THE DRAMA!!

You grimaced as another wave of pain racked through you, originating at your stomach. Noah didn't want to leave you, however you had insisted that he spend some time with his friends outside of the seemingly constant work environment. He begrudgingly agreed, but not before making you promise to text him if you ended up feeling even more sick.

Naturally, you hadn't texted him, not wanting to disrupt his moment of relaxation from the burden of being on tour and writing music. You had left him to go enjoy himself with his friends, while you were curled up on your bed, intense discomfort and pain radiating from your stomach. A tear trailed down your face as you wondered whether there was something physically wrong with you—what if you were dying?

Logically, you knew that you were fine. Though you hadn't experienced pain on such a level before, you knew that it was your period simply being weird for no reason other than to piss you off. Yeah, you should probably fetch a hot water bottle and make yourself a steaming, soothing cup of tea—but you didn't have the strength for it. Still—the thing that you longed for the most was him. 

After countless attempts of trying to distract yourself by watching TV shows, scrolling through social media or watching YouTube, you gave up on trying to take your mind off of the pain. You hadn't been able to leave your bed in hours—leading to a feeling of hunger that almost rivaled the nausea and the pain.

Perhaps the worst part about it was the feeling of utterly helplessness. You couldn't force your body to move from the bed—despite the fact that doing so would allow you to retrieve items of comfort. Your painkillers and hot water bottle lay in the kitchen, seemingly unattainable.

You should probably text Noah, you vaguely thought, however you didn't want to disturb him. It was clear that he was a hardworking individual and he deserved some time off in order to relax with his friends. When the urge to text him became too intense, you threw your phone away, flinging it onto the carpeted floor. You didn’t need him. You were fine by yourself. You were just being overdramatic.

You laid in the bed for what felt like forever, unable to find any relief from the pain. You had tried to fall asleep, but even that wasn’t possible—your brain just couldn’t relax enough in order to let you drift off.

After countless hours of failing to get some sleep, you were startled by the noise of the front door unlocking. You lifted your head up, trying to figure out who it was.

Noah called your name out.

“I’m upstairs!” you shouted, your voice cracking.

Thank god he was here. He stepped into your shared bedroom as you hastily dried your eyes and sat up.

He smiled once he laid eyes on you, almost as if he was relieved to see you, but his face fell as he noticed the tears in your eyes and the beads of sweat trailing down your forehead. He rushed over to you, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweetheart? You in pain?” 

You could only manage to nod in response, even more tears trickling down your cheeks at the sheer relief of him being here. It was as if he was your saviour, your knight in shining armour. There was nothing that you wanted in this moment as much as you wanted to see him, and it seemed that someone had heard your metaphorical call.

“Hurts. I don’t wanna get out of bed.” You mumbled, looking up at him.

“Oh sweetheart,” he cooed, reaching out to stroke your hair. “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

You leaned into his touch, positioning yourself so that your head laid in his lap. You didn’t realise it until now, but you had missed him so much in the few hours that he had been gone for. You laid there for a few minutes, letting Noah coo over you and take care of you. You greatly appreciated the welcome distraction. However, the pain eventually returned to the forefront of your mind, and you couldn’t help but grimace at the feeling.

“I think it’s time I take care of you, yeah? Would you be up to taking a bath while I get everything ready for you?” He asked, cupping your face in his hands, using his thumb to stroke your cheek while he lovingly stared into your eyes.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I think I can do that.”

“Great. C’mon then, let me take care of you now,” he said as he picked you up, using one arm to press you to his chest while the other one supported your legs. 

You let out a squeak of surprise, and Noah smiled at your reaction. He brought you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. He plugged the bathtub and turned the water on, adjusting the temperature until he was satisfied with it. You watched attentively as the bathtub began to fill with warm, steaming water.

“Why are you home so early?” You asked.

“I don't know. Something in my mind told me to come back home. I had a gut feeling,” he shrugged, turning around to face you.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling like it was somehow your fault. “You didn't have to.”

He walked up to you, reaching his hands out and cradling your face. “I wanted to. I had a feeling that something was wrong, and I'm glad that I came back home.” He held your face tenderly, his thumb stroking up and down your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“How come you didn't tell me that you were in pain? Even if it only started after I left, you could have texted me.” He admonished you gently, tilting his head to the side.

“I didn't want to bother you,” you admitted bashfully as you hung your head. 

“Oh sweetheart. You could never. You're my number one priority, okay? Not the band, not my friends. You. I care about you the most, and I'll always be there for you. You just have to ask, and I'll be there. Yeah?” 

You nodded, tears once again beginning to fill your eyes as you were overtaken with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. There was no doubt within you that Noah loved you.

“Hang on here for a second okay?” He said as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before retreating out of the bathroom.

You didn't have to wait long before Noah had brought you a glass of water and some painkillers. You nuzzled into his hand affectionately as he held them out for you. You swallowed the painkillers, praying for them to start kicking in soon.

“Let's get you undressed, yeah?” He prompted once you were done. 

He helped you take your clothes off, the epitome of a gentleman. He dutifully undid your belt, his focus and attention all on you. Your heart swelled with love for him as he attended to you.

Once you were undressed, he picked you up once again, setting you into the now full bathtub. You sighed as your body made contact with the warm water, it instantly soothed your sore muscles, and provided a feeling of warmth that almost outweighed the pain that you felt. Almost.

Noah fiddled with his phone before the sound of calming music filled the room. You sighed, sinking deeper into the water. Now, you felt that you would be okay. You'd manage this.

“Is it okay if I leave you for a few minutes in order to bring you some things?” He asked.

You wanted to insist that it wasn't needed, that you would be fine, but your overwhelming need for comfort outweighed that as you let out a noise of affirmation. You were done with trying to be brave today.

Noah left you to your own devices as he wandered about the house, gathering any and every thing that you could possibly need. You wondered what you had done in life in order to deserve such a loving and attentive man. You were so grateful that he had come home—you weren't sure how your night would have ended if Noah hadn't returned home early. 

Now, inside this warm and welcoming bath, you couldn't even relate to how you had felt mere hours ago. All you knew was that this was pure bliss in its rawest form.

You startled when Noah returned to the bathroom, a steaming mug of tea in hand, a bar of dark chocolate in the other, and some clean pajamas tucked under his arm. He placed the pajamas and a soft towel on the counter, then turned towards you. He approached you with a warm smile on his face, and knelt down beside the tub, offering you the mug. You took a cautious sip, allowing the warmth of the drink to soothe your stomach. You let out a sigh of relief, slowly sipping the tea that was lovingly prepared by him. Noah smiled, reaching out and tucking some stray strands of your hair behind your ear.

Once you were done, Noah retrieved the mug from your hands, and wordlessly brought a square of chocolate up to your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing him to place the silky treat onto your tongue. You closed your eyes, allowing the taste of pure comfort and bliss to envelop you. 

There was nothing better than this.

Noah fed you some more chocolate, all the while praising you and stroking your hair. You were floating in a state of semi-consciousness, not thinking about anything but the pleasure that you were experiencing. It was almost as if your mind had shut down from a positive emotional and sensory overload, after the hours of agony that you had experienced only mere hours earlier. 

Noah noticed that you were beginning to drift off. He brought his hand up to your face, gently stroking your cheek. 

“C’mon, don't fall asleep on me here. Let's get you to bed, yeah?”

You nodded drowsily, beginning to stand up. Noah held your hand, helping you out of the tub. You stepped onto the bathmat, Noah wrapping a soft towel around you.

“Stay still, don’t worry about a single thing,” he guided as he began to dry you off, patting all over your body with the towel. “God you’re so adorable like this,” he grinned, pulling you in towards him and embracing you in a quick hug.

You gazed up at him, all wide-eyed and smiling. Noah let out a little laugh, picking you up and placing you on the counter. Dutifully, he got you dressed, having picked out your favourite pair of soft pyjamas to wear, and a t-shirt of his.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

You nodded as Noah picked you up, once again holding you bridal-style. He walked into your bedroom and placed you down on the bed, moving you so that you laid on your side. He took the hot water bottle that he had prepared earlier, placing it against your stomach. You let out a soft moan of appreciation, the heat reassuring and comforting against your skin. He tucked the duvet in around you, then slid himself in behind you. His long limbs wrapped around your body, as he placed one arm around your stomach, holding the hot water bottle secure against you. You sighed, wriggling closer to him, your back snug against his chest. 

“Thank you for being here,” you whispered.

“I'll always be here for you,” Noah responded, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.