Princess🤍👑

Noah: I wrote a song today.

Zoey: Should I be worried?

Noah: Only if you're worried about being the reason I couldn't focus on anything else.

Zoey: You're flirting.

Noah: I'm practicing.

Zoey: For what?

Noah: The day you stop looking at me like I need supervision.

*

Zoey: You're very confident for someone who got repeatedly rejected

Noah: Actually, that's where the confidence comes from. I survived weeks of rejection and kept showing up.

*

Noah: What are you doing?

Zoey: Reading.

Noah: I knew it.

Zoey: Knew what?

Noah: That you had a hobby besides ignoring my texts.

*

Noah: I still can't believe you agreed to another date

Zoey: Don't make it weird.

Noah: I'm trying but every time you text me back I feel like I won a Grammy.

Zoey: You say nice things for a living. It's suspicious.

Noah: No, I write nice things for a living. The stuff I say to you is the part that scares me.

*

Noah: You know what's unfair?

Zoey: What now?

Noah: I spent months trying to convince you to give me a chance, and now you're making me like you even more

*

Zoey: How was rehearsal?

Noah: Terrible.

Zoey: That bad?

Noah: No. Nick just spent twenty minutes asking if I picked out my outfit for seeing you.

Zoey: Had you?

Noah: That's not the point. My friends are never letting me live this down.

*

Noah: I made the mistake of telling the guys you were texting me.

Zoey: And?

Noah: Now they're acting like I got engaged. Hope you’re ready for this.

*

Zoey: Your friends don't like me very much, do they?

Noah: No, they love you.

Zoey: Really?

Noah: You've been humbling me for months. They're having the time of their lives.

*

Noah: Jolly asked if I finally stopped writing sad songs.

Zoey: What did you say?

Noah: I told him we're not there yet.

Zoey: Good answer.

Noah: Thank you. I enjoy staying alive.

*

Noah: I got roasted at dinner tonight.

Zoey: What for?

Noah: You.

Zoey: I wasn't even there.

Noah: Exactly. Yet somehow you were still the main topic.

*

Zoey: Your guitarist seems scary.

Noah: He's actually the nicest one.

Zoey: Really?

Noah: He just looked me dead in the eye today and said, "Don't screw it up again."

*

Noah: My friends have started calling you "hotel girl."

Zoey: Hotel girl?

Noah: "Did hotel girl text?" "How's it going with hotel girl?" "Are you seeing hotel girl this weekend?"

Zoey: That's ridiculous.

Noah: That's what I said.

Zoey: And?

Noah: They reminded me I've talked about you every day for months.

*

Noah: Folio says I can’t stop smiling these days.

Zoey: Why are you smiling?

Noah: Because I'm texting you.

Zoey: Your friends tease you for that too, don't they?

Noah: Baby, my friends tease me for breathing in your general direction.

*

Noah: I told the guys you agreed to another dinner.

Zoey: And what did they say?

Noah: "Don't be weird."

Zoey: Can you do that?

Noah: No. That's why they were concerned. You clearly haven't seen my search history from the last few months. 'How long should a man stare at his phone before she replies?

[Noah’s POV]

Three heads snapped up in my direction as I walked into the studio for the first time this week and I immediately knew I was screwed. I shoved my phone into my pocket and ignored them all as I walked to the mixing board.

Folio grinned. "There he is."

"Don't," I said immediately.

"She’s texting you, isn’t she?" Ruffilo asked.

"Look at the smile on his face," Folio said. "She’s definitely textin him."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "I hate all of you."

"She texted him," Folio announced to the room.

Chaos ensued from the three goons.

"Oh, my God," Ruffilo said.

"Finally," Jolly muttered.

Folio cheered, "Nature is healing!"

I dropped into the chair behind the sound board with with more force than necessary.

"Can we just get started?" I begged.

"No."

"Nope."

"Absolutely not."

Folio spun his drumstick between his fingers. "How's your girl?"

I groaned, leaning my head back. "She's not my girl."

Jolly quirked his brow. "Interesting. That's not what you were calling her the rest of tour."

"That was back when she wasn't speaking to me."

"Fair point."

Ruffilo leaned forward conspiratorially. "Have you asked her out yet?"

"I’ve had coffee with her."

The room went silent and then they all exploded.

"You've had coffee."

"And one dinner."

"How many coffees?"

I hesitated and the guys immediately started yelling over each other.

"HOW MANY COFFEES?"

"OH MY GOD."

"COUNT THEM."

"It's been a few."

"A few?" Nick repeated. "A few is three. You've got the face of a man who's been on at least seven coffee dates."

"Eight," I muttered.

Chaos ensued and I could hardly keep up.

"Eight?" Ruffilo asked.

"Eight coffees!?"

"Dude, you're dating," Nick said.

"We are not dating," I protested.

The guys all just stared at me, before Ruffilo said, "You spent six months begging this woman for a second chance."

I narrowed my eyes, fidgeting with the knobs in front of me. "I did not beg."

"You absolutely begged."

I defended myself, "I was persistent."

"You wrote songs."

I shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

"You drove two hours to an animal shelter because she posted about it."

I narrowed my eyes. "That was a coincidence."

Everyone laughed at me and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

"Most believable thing you've ever said."

I rubbed my hand across the back of my neck, uncomfortable with their attention. "Can we move on?"

Nick pointed a drumstick at me. "No. When are we meeting her?"

I groaned.

"There it is."

Jolly murmured, "We knew it was coming."

"You people are unbelievable."

"We've earned this," Jolly said with a shrug.

My brow furrowed and I asked, "Earned what?"

"Meeting the woman who turned you into a functioning human being."

They all nodded, like this was something of heavy discussion in the past.

Ruffilo relaxed in his seat, spreading his arms along the back of the couch, as he said, "Seriously. Before her, your personality was basically black coffee and bad decisions."

Nick cackled. "Now look at you."

Ruffilo said, "You smile."

"You answer texts," Jolly pointed out.

"You even use emojis now," Nick agreed.

The guys all over exaggeratedly shuddered like they had the heebie jeebies.

"The emojis were hard to witness."

“I need new friends,” I muttered."You're not meeting her."

Ruffilo gasped. "Why not?"

"Because she's already nervous enough."

That shut them up for exactly two seconds before Jolly's expression softened.

"She's nervous?"

I shrugged. "Obviously."

The guys exchanged glances and their teasing disappeared almost instantly because beneath all the harassment, they weren't actually dickheads.

"Well," Nick said, "tell her we're normal."

I barked out a laugh. "No chance."

Nick shrugged. "Fair."

Ruffilo crossed his arms. "Look, we're not saying drag her to the studio tomorrow."

"Good."

"We're saying if this thing is actually going somewhere, eventually she's got to meet us."

Jolly and Nick nodded.

"And we should probably meet her before she realizes what a disaster you are and leaves your ass."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Nick pointed a drumstick at me. "Besides, we need to make sure she's real."

I laughed, "She's real."

"We've never seen her."

"You've seen pictures."

"Those might be AI," Ruffilo argued.

I stared at them.

"Bring her to dinner," Nick pushed.

"No."

"Bring her to the bar,” Ruffilo offered.

I groaned. "No."

"Bring her to a barbecue."

"No."

"Bring her anywhere."

"No."

Nick smirked the kind of smirk that meant trouble.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

He shrugged. "We'll ask her ourselves."

I snapped my gaze to his and narrowed my eyes. "You don't even have her number."

"No," he agreed. "But you do."

The room erupted into laughter again and I pointed menacingly at them. "If any of you scare her off, I'll replace every single one of you."

Nick shrugged. "You can't."

"Watch me."

"You cried during a dog food commercial last week."

My jaw dropped, faux betrayal crossing my face. “You promised never to mention that."

Nick shrugged. "Invite her to dinner and we'll consider it."

[Noah’s POV]

I’d been at Zoey’s for about 2 hours now, a random horror film playing for the last forty five minutes that I hadn’t been paying attention to at all. She was stretched across one end of the couch, her feet tucked beneath her while I sat on the opposite side, one arm thrown over the back cushion, as I lazily scrolled through my phone.

"You've checked your phone six times in three minutes."

My eyes flicked up to meet hers."No, I haven't."

Zoey laughed softly at me, arguing, "You absolutely have."

"Nope," I said with a pop.

"You're doing it right now."

I immediately locked the screen and she smiled at me.

"What's wrong?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

She pointed at me. "Liar."

I groaned, throwing my head back. "Why do you always know?"

"Because you're bad at hiding things."

"I'm actually very good at hiding things."

She stared at me and the silence stretched.

I sighed. "Okay, that's fair."

She grinned victoriously at me. "There it is."

I tossed my phone onto the couch next to me, watching it bounce once against the cushion and looked at her for a minute, trying to decide the best approach, knowing she was easily spooked. I watched her suspicion grow.

She groaned. "Oh no."

"What?"

Zoey pointed at me. "That face."

"What face?"

"That’s the face you make when you're about to ask me something."

my eyebrows lifted in confusion. “I have a face?"

"You absolutely have a face."

"I don't," I protested.

"You do."

I laughed softly, loving the way her nose did that little scrunchy thing and then I looked down, suddenly oddly nervous.

That was new, as a man who could stand in front of thousands of people without blinking. Somehow asking Zoey things always seemed to make me extra nervous.

"Okay," she said carefully. "What is it?"

I tapped my fingers against the back of the couch, before going for it and blurted, "The guys want to meet you."

She blinked slowly. "The band?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

I immediately started talking, I couldn't stop myself. "There's no pressure."

"I know."

"And you don't have to."

"Okay."

"And if you're not comfortable-"

Zoey laughed. "Hey." I paused. "You look terrified."

The words whooshed out of me, as I admitted, "I’m terrified."

I watched Zoey’s head snap back, caught off guard. "What?"

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “They've been asking about you for months."

Zoey sat up straighter. "Months?"

I groaned. "Don't make it a thing."

"How long have they been asking?"

I avoided looking at her, my eyes catching anything but her gaze.

"Since they found out I found you at the cafe."

I watched Zoey’s jaw actually drop.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Zoey started laughing and I felt my face get redder, which only made her laugh harder.

"Oh my God."

I groaned. "They're annoying."

"You've known them for years."

"I know exactly how annoying they are."

Zoey could barely beathe, she was laughing so hard. "They've been asking since then?"

I leaned forward, my body relaxing. "Relentlessly."

I watched as a smile settled across her face as she realized it meant I had been talking about her consistently. Enough that my best friends had become invested and that they wanted to meet her.

I could see her starting to spin out over the thought. "Don't read into that."

"Into what?"

"The fact that they know who you are."

She folded her arms across her chest. "How much do they know?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not answering that."

"How much?"

I shrugged. "A normal amount."

"That sounds like a lie."

"It is a lie."

She laughed again and I pointed at her. "See? This is why I didn't want to ask."

"Why?"

"Because now you're enjoying this."

"I am."

"Traitor," I said with a smile, showing her it was a joke.

Neither of us looked away, but silence settled into the room and the movie played across the screen, forgotten.

My expression shifted, not longer teasing or nervous, just pure honesty.

"I'd like you to meet them," I said softly.

This felt different, bigger than what we had done up until now. Not exactly a milestone, but sort of close to one. It was about meeting the people who mattered most to me, the people who'd been beside there long before I’d met her.

Zoey paused, a thoughtful look on her face as she examined me. "They're important to you."

I shrugged. "Yeah."

"And they already like me?"

I grinned. "Oh, they're obsessed with you."

She groaned. "That's not reassuring."

I laughed. "It should be a little reassuring."

"It's not."

"It is."

She threw a pillow at me and I caught it easily while laughing.

After a moment, I quietly asked, "So?"

She pretended to think about it.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Oh, come on."

She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm."

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"A little." She held her finger and thumb less than half an inch apart.

I nudged her foot with mine, prodding, "So?"

Zoey smiled. "Okay."

The answer came so fast I was blinking to try to register that she had agreed.

"Okay?"

She shrugged. "I'll meet them."

For a second I just stared at her before relief settled into my body. I watched her smile brighten.

"You were worried I'd say no."

I blushed harder.

"No, I wasn't."

Zoey giggled. "You were."

"No."

"You absolutely were."

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then I sighed, resigned.

"A little."

She laughed.

"A little?"

"A lot."

Something sweet settled into the room, as the reality of what this meant to me settled between us. I know she knew what it was really saying.

Not that I was worried about dinner, I was just worried because this mattered to me more than I thought it would. Despite everything we’d built over the past few months, part of me still wasn't completely sure she was staying.

Zoey reached across the couch and squeezed my hand. "I'm not going to run away from your friends."

My gaze dropped to our hands, then back to her. A soft, small smile graced my lips. This was real.

"Good," I said softly, pulling her closer to me.

She raised an eyebrow, pushing softly against my chest. "Unless they're as annoying as you."

I grinned. "Oh, they're way worse."

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Great."

"You're going to love them."

"That's what I'm afraid of,” she murmured.

I leaned down and softly brushed my lips over hers, and she relaxed into my chest.

[Zoey’s POV]

"I can still leave."

Noah glanced over from the driver's seat.

"No, you can't."

I shrugged. "I absolutely can."

"You made it all the way here."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything."

I stared out the windshield at the cute little two story house not far of a drive from the beach. It wasn’t the house that was intimidating to me, but the people inside it were. At least they felt intimidating.

For months I'd been hearing stories about these men who had apparently spent months watching this idiot pine after me, which meant they knew things. Somehow that made me more nervous than anything.

On my left, Noah reached his hand over and nudged my knee. "They're excited to meet you."

I sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

He laughed. "They're idiots."

"Those are your best friends."

Noah shrugged. "Exactly."

I narrowed my eyes accusingly. "That wasn't reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

I groaned and he grinned. Annoyingly, that grin did make me feel a little better. A few minutes later, Noah got out of the car and met me at my door, carefully opening it before reaching for my hand. We walked slowly to the door, my nerves eating away at me.

Before I knew it, Noah was pushing open the door and ushering me into the living room, as three heads snapped in my direction, as they all immediately froze.

"Oh my God," one of them whispered.

"No way."

"She's real," the other whispered back.

I blinked.

Noah muttered, "I hate them."

Nick, I realized by the drumstick in his hand, pointed. "She's real."

"I'm standing right here," I said.

His eyes widened. "She talks too."

A guy with medium length hair gasped dramatically. "This is huge for us."

Noah tossed his head back and closed his eyes, groaning. “I’m leaving."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

Medium length hair guy stepped up and held out his hand. "I'm Nick Ruffilo or Ruffilo. That’s Nick." He pointed. “That’s Jolly.”

I shook his hand. "I'm-"

"We know."

I paused, quirking a brow. "...You know?"

All three men looked at me like I'd asked whether the sky was blue.

The drummer, Nick, laughed. "We've known your name for months."

Jolly, who hadn’t said much yet, nodded.

"Months," I repeated softly, looking at Noah who looked away, almost embarrassed.

Nick looked at his friend, grinning. "An unhealthy amount of months."

Noah groaned and I let a wide grin spread across my face.

Nick groaned. "Oh no."

"What?" I asked with a laugh.

Nick said, "You think we're kidding."

"We're not kidding,” Ruffilo said solemnly before he pointed at Noah. "This man has been absolutely unbearable."

Noah groaned. "Guys."

"No."

"Please stop,” he begged.

"No."

Jolly crossed his arms, stubbornly. "You have any idea how many sad songs we had to sit through?"

I looked at Noah and watched his eyes widen. "Don't listen to them."

"Six." The bassist held up six fingers.

"Six."

"That is not true," Noah protested.

"Five and a half."

I tilted my head, confused. "How do you have half a sad song?"

Ruffilo shrugged. "He gave up halfway through because you finally agreed to a date."

The room exploded into laughter and I had to laugh, even though Noah’s face turned bright red.

I giggled. "Oh, this is fantastic."

Noah pointed at me accusingly. "You're supposed to be on my side."

I furrowed my brow and bit my lip. "Why?"

"Because I brought you here."

Nick pointed at me, like it was a victory. "Excellent question."

I smiled sweetly before I shrugged. "Honestly, I'm just excited to hear all the stories."

The room went dead silent and the guys collectively lost their minds. Nick dropped into a chair, Ruffilo doubled over laughing and Jolly slapped his thigh with a loud laugh.

"Oh, she's one of us," Nick cackled.

"No,” Noah said shortly.

Ruffilo grinned. "She absolutely is."

Noah stared at me with a look of betrayal. "You don't even know them."

I shrugged. "They seem trustworthy."

All three men shouted, "THANK YOU."

Noah looked like he was reconsidering every decision he'd ever made. Ruffilo wiped tears from his eyes.

"You know what my favorite story is?"

"No."

"Remember when you swore you were over her?"

Noah immediately pointed. "Nope."

"Then you accidentally liked a six month old picture."

The room erupted into hysterical laughter again and I whipped around. "You did what?"

Noah wouldn’t look at me. "It was an accident."

Nick cackled. "It was not."

Noah grunted. "It absolutely was."

Jolly nodded, a serious expression taking over his face. "He called me in a panic."

I gasped. "You called someone?"

Nick grinned. "He called everyone."

"I needed advice." Noah shrugged, suddenly shy.

"You needed therapy."

Laughter, real laughter, bubbled up. The kind that I couldn't stop from pouring out of me and suddenly all my nerves about walking into this house, had disappeared. These guys weren’t scary. They were just the people who knew him the best. The people who loved him enough to give him hell and apparently, now that I'd walked through the door, they were more than happy to let me join in.

Across the room, Noah caught my eye. Despite all the complaining and the clear embarrassment written all over his face, he was smiling at me with a soft, helpless smile. The kind that said he couldn't quite believe I was here with him, getting along with his friends.

I felt a sense of belonging. I smiled back carefully, before I turned to Nick and leaned in.

"So tell me more about the sad songs."

“Hi sweet girl, thought you finished work early”

You find her curled up in one of her old hoodies, face buried into the sleeves, her eyes half closed as she blinks slowly up at the tv, her laptop still open on her mixing software, laid next to her hip.

Ah. So her ‘just heading to bed now’ text wasn’t exactly her calling it a day with her work. She was simply moving work to the bedroom. Are you surprised? No not really, but a pang of concern does shoot through you when she doesn’t answer, she’s so out of it, poor girl couldn’t even hear you past the low hum of her show.

“Noah?”

“Mm?”

She hums out, the noise sleepy and sweet in her throat as her gaze lazily flits to you. It’s then that you notice the bags under her eyes, how pale she’s gotten in the last couple of days, only serving to accentuate the dark circles around her eyes. She looks beyond tired, beyond exhausted. You doubt she’s even paying attention to the show she put on.

You know her insomnia gets worse the more stressed she gets. And the more stress she has, the harder she works to get through it. She easily forgets to eat, drink, and take breaks. The amount of times you’ve had to drag her outside or to bed….you couldn’t even begin to count. Her passion is something you’ve always admired, but you do hate how it’s taken her away from you in recent weeks.

You sigh and slip down beside her on the bed, sitting up near her side, smiling fondly to yourself as you feel her immediately start to lean into you and seek out your warmth, a habit she picked up in the early days of your relationship. A habit you welcome eagerly, loving the way she clings to you. Always running so cold, especially now with the lack of sleep.

“You’re a sleepy girl today, huh?”

You coo softly, leaning your cheek against the top of her head, letting your fingers gently trace over the sharp curve of her jaw and the slope of her nose, feeling her melt even deeper into your arms. She sighs happily, turning her head to nose at your neck affectionately, humming a note in her throat that sounds akin to a purr to denote her satisfaction

“M’comfy…you’re so warm”

She murmurs lowly, turning her torso and hips towards you, slinging one of her legs over your thighs, the hem of her hoodie slipping up to her waist to reveal the boxers she’d stolen from you, a cheeky grin spreads on your face as you let her settle closer, practically laying her full weight on you, the hand that wasn’t tangled in her hair comes to smooth over one of her thighs, tracing the lines of her tattoos up and down with the tip of your nail.

“You’d be warmer if you put some pants on baby”

“Mmm, no, that’s what you’re for, always warm me up so well”

You snicker into her hair, removing your hand from her hair to cup her jaw, tilting it gently so she’d face you, catching her eyes, brighter now that you’d caught her attention but still so exhausted. She smiles tiredly up at you, leaning her cheek against your palm as she stares at your face. Like she’s trying to commit every single detail to memory, the intensity of her stare disarms you for a moment but you blink back, determined to enact your plan to get her to sleep for a solid couple of hours.

“My sleepy girl, think you need a nap, hm? That sound good right now?”

You phrase it like a question, a gentle suggestion so she wouldn’t protest, letting her have the control and decide what she wants. But even though the low, crooning tone you used paired with the repetitive scratch on her scalp renders her unable to protest even if she wanted to, she still finds it in her to resist. She shakes her head, despite the way her eyes flutter, barely open as she leans into your hand, chasing the dull scrape of your nails against her head

“Can’t-”

“Or won’t?”

You cut her off, giving her a stern, knowing look, you’d spoken to the rest of the band, none of them reported back any deadlines or meetings they had to attend. You knew she’d put these time restrains on herself, and she was running herself into the ground doing so.

“I just-“

“You don’t need to do any more work today”

You see it on her face, the pleading eyes she gives you, you know she wants nothing more than to sleep, but it’s never been that easy for her, even now you can see how tense she is, her feet insistently tapping in the air, the way she worries the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth.

“…I can’t, wish I could”

“Let me help”

You’re slipping off the bed so seamlessly and effortlessly she barely registers the movement, sinking onto your knees on the hardwood floor, pulling her by her hips until her legs are just about hanging off the bed, she giggles at you, moving to sit up, pushing your hands away but you’re quicker than her. Your forearm pushing down on her sternum, forcing her to stay half up on her elbows, watching you as your hand softly cups her neck, not squeezing, just resting there, letting the weight of it settle against her throat, watching her soft, tired eyes spark as soon as she realises what you’re doing

“Baby what-”

“Shhhh, just let me take care of you”

“I don’t see how this is gonna help”

“Angel”

Your voice drops an octave, becoming more firm as you utter her favourite pet name, knowing she’ll listen to you if you use it. Knowing the effect it has on her, the protest dying in her throat as she watches you. Moving your hand off her neck to manoeuvre both her legs over your shoulders.

“I’m gonna take care of you. Will you let me?”

You keep your predatory gaze on her as your lips trail down the insides of her thighs, reaching the hem of the boxers she stole, never going any higher, not just yet. Not until she says so. Watching as the simplest and lightest of touches disarm her fully. She can’t help the way her mouth falls open as the drag of your lips over her sensitive skin sets her overshot nerves alight. Your words going straight to her core, feeling the familiar warmth start to ebb into her stomach. But you’re too impatient to watch her marvel you for too long, nipping at her hip to bring her attention back to your voice.

“I asked you a question, honey”

You softly remind her, your thumbs rubbing circles into the joints of her hips as you patiently wait for her consent. Watching as her eyes snap back into focus, nodding eagerly at your words, eyebrows raising up in pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah, please”

Her words breathy, already fucked out and you’ve barely touched her. You smile hungrily and nod at her rushed tone. Tapping her thigh twice as a signal to buck her hips up, helping her remove her underwear, flinging them somewhere across the room.

You take a second to observe her, shifting her hips impatiently, her eyes dancing across your face in anticipation. Chest already starting to rise up and down as she awaits your next move. Letting her thighs fall open wider atop your shoulders, baring her cunt to you, right in your eyeline, your grin turns ravenous at the sight before you.

“Look at that pretty pussy baby, oh my sweet girl, I’ve missed her.”

You marvel, awestruck like you’re a virgin seeing someone bare for the first time. Smiling to yourself as you press a filthy, wet kiss to her slit, burying your nose into the small thatch of curly hair that sits on her mound, feeling her thighs twitch, instinctually closing in around your head.

“Missed you too”

You direct your voice to her this time, hearing her moan softly at your sweet words. Letting your tongue slip into her folds, tracing her labia and the sides of her clit, purposefully avoiding the bundle of nerves, stimulating the area around it, familiarising yourself with her taste, and her soft spots once more. And finally, she’s letting herself relax, seeing the tension in her shoulders ease and the breath she didn’t know she was holding release. Going soft and pliant for you. You can’t help but feel a little burst of pride in your chest, knowing you’re her safe space, she can be totally unguarded with you, allowing herself to surrender to your touch without any hesitation or concern. You’ll always be there to take care of her

“There we go, good girl, just like that, relax for me”

You praise her, voice heady and deep in your throat, savouring the taste of her in your mouth like she’d disappear any second, pushing further into her core, your shoulders moving her legs further apart, spreading her folds open further. Wrapping your hands around the meat of her thighs to pin her in place ensuring she doesn’t squirm out of your hold.

Pressing your tongue flat, licking a firm stripe all the way up to her clit, bumping your nose against it just to feel her hips cant up to reach the sensation again. And you oblige, languidly licking up her cunt before dipping your tongue into her hole, wrapping your lips around her pussy as you do so, flicking your tongue up as your hands move to spread her folds with your thumbs, suckling gently on the bundle of nerves.

She throws her head back against the mattress with a resounding thud. Letting out a long, breathy moan as you finally target her clit. Switching between soft little kitten licks and harsher sucks, keeping your eyes locked on her face, blinking slowly up at her, humming against her skin just to see her jaw hang open as the vibrations travel deep into her core, letting out the most pathetic, sweetest little whine.

Her long, inked fingers reach out for you, brushing against your browbone before carding through your hair, softly gripping the strands in her hands to anchor herself through the pleasure she’s receiving. Tucking her chin against her chest to look at you, big brown puppy eyes glazed over and hazy as she stares down.

“Ff-fuck. Mmmmff-fuck”

Barely intelligible curses tumble clumsily from her slackjawed mouth, eyelashes fluttering as she fights off the instinct to screw her eyes shut in pleasure. But seeing you beneath her, drinking her juices down like it was ambrosia, your eyes locked on her flushed cheeks and downright pornagraphic expressions, all but daring her to look away. She can’t refuse that command.

Your eyes scrunch up as you smile into her pussy, eating up every single pulse of her heat against your face, every twitch of her thighs against your ears. The subtle flits of her facial expressions.

Fuck.

You could feel yourself getting wet just from this. But the hitch in her breath has you brushing the heat pooling in your stomach to the back of your mind for the time being. You could deal with that later. Focusing back on Noah. Your lips unlatching with a soft pop as you come up for air, replacing them with the pad of your thumb as you start to rub little circles against her clit. Resting your head against the inside of your thigh, panting a little, your chin drenched with her, licking your lips as you sigh, feeling the familiar haze of being pussydrunk start to fog up your head.

“Doing such a good job for me angel, feeling okay?”

She mewls at your slurred praise, relaxing her eyebrows at the sudden change from harsh sucks to soft, light touches, grateful you’re giving her a small respite from the stimulation, but not halting it completely, giving her enough without the all familiar feeling of her nerves being set alight, being close to cumming. She smiles shakily as you check in on her. Giving you a little nod, her hands tugging your hair a little harder, shifting her hips back and away from your touch.

“Just wanna be with you for a sec. Please baby”

She mumbles tiredly, pulling you up, her thighs pushed up to her chest as you move up her body, the position effectively folding her in half, leaning her forehead against yours. You take turns breathing each other in, inhaling her exhales. You keep your eyes closed as you listen to her breathe, taking the time to pull yourself back down to earth, blinking slowly as you lean your head back. Watching her quietly, seeing the way she looks at you in that soft awed way she always does as steadies you, her hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs swiping the slick that’s still all over the lower half of your face, glinting in the light of the television.

“Hi”

She breathes, a soft, light giggle escaping her lips, opening her eyes to look at you, staring through heavy lids, completely relaxed. Like she’d finally allowed herself to let her guard down for the first time in days. The sight has a small chuckle escaping from you at the sound of her own laughs.

“You wanna carry on?”

You ask, balancing your weight on your elbows, your fingers dancing across her tattooed ribs, making her shiver at the sensation. She hums, a gentle smile settling on her face, shaking her head.

“Can we cuddle instead?”

Her voice is small, like she’s reluctant to deny you her pleasure, eyes wide and soft as they gaze up at you shyly.

“Course we can, angel, c’mere”

You assure her with a smile of your own, turning to settle down on the mattress next to her, reaching to grab one of her thighs, pulling it over your hip, pulling her securely into your body, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You feel her arms snake around your ribs, coiling around your midsection as she rests her head against your chest.

The speed at which she passes out would be amusing to you if you weren’t so relieved that she’s finally sleeping, feeling the near instantaneous slowing of her breaths has your heart skipping a beat, hearing her murmur something that sounded close to “love you, thank you” as she noses closer into your chest. The slurred words have your lips curling into stupid lovesick smile that you’re not even trying to fight back.

Your sleepy girl, tucked safely in her safe space, her person, her sanctuary. Right where she belongs.

“Alright baby, rest now. I love you too, pretty girl”

⋆꙳❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

every year since you started to work for your uncle, you’ve made sure to decorate the office for christmas. you don’t go too overboard, just a small tree in the corner and some lights around your desk.

when you finally knew you had some time to spare, you reached for the handle of the big cupboard in the office. the one that smelled like dust and made the room cold just by opening the door.

you kept the “decorations”, if you could call them that, in a box tucked at the back of the bottom shelf. you immediately spotted it, moved a few bits out of the way and pulled it out, setting it down on your desk.

you set up the 3ft tree in the usual place- behind the door. some years customers didn’t even notice it and burst through the door, knocking it over and sending the decorations skittering across the floor. but it was the only place you could put it…

you fluffed the branches out, plugged the lights in and began to weave them through. once the lights were on, you put on the tinsel and then the few baubles that were in the box. so many of them had been broken when the tree would fall, so you were only left with half a dozen.

finally, you finished it off with the star, which you could never get to sit straight. then you stepped back, your hands on your hips, admiring your work…

then just as you were about to turn around and stick the other lot of lights onto your desk, the door flew open.

you saw the tattooed hand.

you knew what was about to happen.

“NOAH!” you yelped, rushing to catch the tree just as it started to topple.

“what?” he asked, completely oblivious, and rather confused… until he saw it. “aw shit, i missed out on decorating the tree?”

you scoffed, your heart finally going back to its normal pace as you wandered over to your desk.

“i’d hardly call it decorating, it only took me ten minutes.”

“still, i could’ve helped.” he said, reaching out to fix a piece of tinsel that had started falling off. “i haven’t decorated a tree since i was… maybe six?”

you were about to roll your eyes, but then his words really hit you.

“…six?” you accidentally said out loud, and he just shrugged like it meant nothing whilst his fingers still fiddled with the tinsel.

“it’s not a big deal.”

then why did it make your heart hurt, especially seeing the way his face dropped when he saw the tree was already decorated.

you just watched him in silence for a moment… an idea forming in your mind.

“y’know…” you said, causing noah to turn his head.

“uh oh.” he smirked, but you shook your head, ignoring him.

“i’m putting my tree up later, at home.”

“yeah?” his brow lifted, “your friends coming to help? you gonna make it a girls night?” he teased.

“no, just me.” you said, nervously toying with the lights in your hand, “…and i can never reach the top of the tree. it’s quite a tall one, so it always looks a little unfinished.”

noah chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you got a ladder?”

“it’s broken.” you lied.

“a chair?”

“it’s too wobbly.”

“what about-“

“fuck sake noah, i’m asking you to help me!”

he just smirked.

“oh good, ‘cause my next suggestion was gonna be a hot 6’3 mechanic.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the grin creeping up on your face.

…

noah told you he had a show to play tonight, he was opening for a local band so he was hoping to sneak out after they played their set.

and it was successful! because just after 9pm, there was a knock at your door. noah was stood on the other side, a six pack of beer in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, his work boots swapped for a pair of vans, his black skinny jeans exactly the same, but the usual sleeveless shirt he would wear at work was traded for a grey woolly jumper with a jacket over the top, and a black beanie on top of his head.

he looked cozy.

he looked very huggable.

you opened the door a little wider to let him in, stepping aside, suddenly very aware that you were just wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a strappy top.

“you didn’t have to rush.” you tell him as he kicks his shoes off by the front door. “if i knew you had a show tonight i would’ve waited until tomorrow-“

“no it’s fine.” he said simply, “i’d rather be here tonight anyway.”

you shut the door and turned around before he could see how that made you blush, and walked towards the tree.

“hope this is okay.” noah said as he set down the beer and the plastic bag on your kitchen counter, “i stole some food from catering and i got some beer on the way…”

you glanced into the bag before meeting his eyes again.

“stole?”

“they had plenty to go around!” he waved it off, making you chuckle.

“well thanks, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“i know,” he said casually as he slipped off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.

he followed you into the living room, where the tree was put up. you had already decorated your bookshelves with fairy lights, casting a warm glow in the room, making him look even softer- a thought you absolutely didn’t need to be having right now.

“i keep all the decorations in here,” you explained, opening up a cardboard box, “we should start with the lights.”

noah nodded, taking the end of the lights from you and easily reaching the top of the tree, earning a “show off” scoffed under your breath. just watching him reach up so easily made you even more aware of your height difference, and seeing the hem of his jumper lift as his arms were in the air, seeing a slither of tattooed skin above the waistband of his boxers… you had to turn away.

“so, how was the show?” you asked as he passed the lights to you, letting you wrap them around the bottom half of the tree.

“it was good,” he nodded, “the crowd was loud, a couple fights started in the pit, just the usual.”

“sounds fun.” you snorted, plugging the lights into the wall.

“mm,” he hummed, sounding rather unsure, “but this is better.”

thankfully the lights came on just in time to draw the attention away from the way he made you blush.

once the lights were done, you both started on the baubles, scattering them across the tree, explaining the meanings behind some of the sentimental ones you had, which he was even more careful with as he hung them where they could be seen.

then there was only one thing left.

the star sat on your coffee table, and you picked it up to hand it to him with a little grin.

“the moment of truth,” you said as his fingers brushed yours.

he took it carefully and adjusted it on top of the tree until it sat straight…

and for the first time in years, your tree looked complete.

noah took a step back once it was in place, and neither of you said anything for a moment. you didn’t know what to say…

“…i forgot how nice this feels.” noah admitted quietly.

“yeah… me too.” you nodded, looking at the way the lights warmed his face, how they made his eyes sparkle, how they made him look softer…

you stepped away for a moment to grab a couple beers from the kitchen, and as you came back in, you caught him taking a picture of the tree.

you pretended not to see, and once he had slipped his phone back into his pocket, you cleared your throat softly, handing a beer out to him.

“we did good,” you said as you sat down on the couch, “it hasn’t looked this good in years.”

“well, i’ve always told steve we make a great team.” he smirked, taking a sip from his can.

you shook your head, patting the space next to you for him to sit down, and he did.

“…do you miss it?”

“miss what?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

“christmas, celebrating… you said you haven’t put up a tree in years, i just wondered if you still celebrate it?” you asked carefully.

“well…” he sighed, “i still like the idea of it. i just don’t have people to celebrate it with… my friends all go back home to their families, i don’t really get that privilege.”

you nodded slowly, and didn’t press further.

“you can celebrate it with me, if you want?” you smiled, “steve’s going to visit his sons, my cousins, so i’ll be here by myself.”

that caught him off guard.

“you’d let me?” he asked, his eyes widening. “you’re sure?”

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t mean it, noah.” you said, resting your head against his shoulder, “nobody should be alone on christmas… even if i do think you’re insufferable most the time.” you added to lighten the mood a little, making him chuckle.

“thank you.” he said, his voice soft and genuine as he placed his hand on your thigh. “really, thank you.”

you couldn’t deny how warm that made your chest feel. so much so that you tilted your head, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

another ten minutes or so passed, and the two of you were still sat on the couch, half cuddling half pretending not to, but you noticed the way noah kept checking the time and glancing to the front door…

but you didn’t want him to leave.

so when he slid his hand from your thigh, slipped his phone into his pocket and finished his beer, you sat up.

“you don’t have to leave just yet y’know.”

“oh,” that little smirk appeared back on his lips, “is that right?”

you nodded.

“it’s cold outside, it’s only 10 o’clock… why don’t you stay a little longer and i’ll make us hot chocolates!”

he grinned, sitting back on the couch, his legs slightly spread like he owned the place.

“if you’re trying to bribe me it’s working,” he chuckled, before motioning to the tv remote. “why don’t we put a movie on too? surely there’s some christmas movies on…”

“okay,” you nodded, standing up, one hand on your hip as you point at him with the other, “you pick a movie to watch, and i’ll make drinks.”

“perfect.” he grinned as you wandered out to the kitchen again.

you reached for two big mugs from the cupboard, and grabbed the milk from the fridge. you got all the ingredients out- chocolate powder, marshmallows, cream and sprinkles- and got to work.

when you had finished and wandered back into the living room, two mugs cradled in your hands, you saw that home alone was paused on the screen, and noah was sat waiting patiently for you.

“thank you.” he said as you handed him a mug, warning him that it was hot as your fingers brushed his. he brought it to his lips, and his eyes lit up as he took a sip. “oh fuck, that’s good!”

“language!” you teased, settling beside him.

he lifted his arm, as if inviting you to cuddle up to him… but when you looked at his face you couldnt help but giggle.

because there was a little smudge of cream right on the tip of his nose.

“what?” he asked, grin spreading across his face.

you leaned in, and he must’ve thought you were about to kiss him, since his brows furrowed in confusion as you lifted your hand, wiping the cream from his nose.

“what the f-“ before he could finish his sentence, you brought your finger to your mouth and licked it off.

you watched the way his throat bobbed.

Your mouth hangs open, soft moans spilling between plump lips. The sharp slap of his hand against your ass draws a yelp, quickly followed by the rough kneading of his large palm, and then another swat.

“I’m gonna fill you, baby,” he grunts. “Fill you up nice and good. Make your pretty little pussy all mine.”

His hips quicken as he slams into you from behind, each thrust making your fingers tighten around the sheets, your eyes rolling back as moans of pleasure pour from your lips. He’s pulling you apart bit by bit, unraveling you around him, and you feel the final thread snap, dragging him over the edge with you.

Noah leans down, pressing his forehead to your back as a shuddering whine slips past his lips. He grips you tightly through the wave of his climax, hips jerking erratically as he falls apart inside you. There’s nothing you love more than this, the way he breaks, the heavy throb of his cock, the way he presses as deep as possible, warmth flooding you with every spurt of cum.

It takes a moment for the wave to fully wash over him, for both of you to come back to yourselves. When he finally does, he slowly draws himself back.

You shudder as he slips out of you, the sudden emptiness making you whine as you clench around nothing, determined to keep his cum inside despite the way you feel it slowly leaking, a sticky, warm mess trailing along your cunt and down your thighs.

“God,” he mutters, leaning back to admire the mess spilling from you. “Your pussy looks so pretty when it’s filled with my cum,” he coos.

At his sudden, unexpected touch, you let out a moan, leaning back into it as Noah watches his tattooed fingers drag between your folds, collecting the cum leaking from you, mixed with your own. Your hips buck as you try to press back against his fingers, but he pulls them away, bringing them to his mouth.

Slowly, deliberately, he rubs his fingers over his lips, coating them in the blend of your juices. In the mirror, you watch as he taunts you, a quivering moan slipping past your lips while you press back against his still half hard cock, grinding along his shaft, aching to feel him inside you again.

“Noah, please…” you beg, gasping, but all he does is smirk, slipping his tongue out to lick over his fingers, an audible groan leaving him at the taste of you coating them.

“You want more?” he asks, hazy eyes fixed on your reflection as his hand glides up to your waist, guiding your rhythmic, desperate grinding against him.

“Yes…” you breathe, doing your best to keep your eyes on him in the mirror. Every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire, desperate for more, desperate for him. As he reaches a hand down, he grips his cock and guides himself, rubbing the mushroomed tip between your folds, teasing it back and forth until he tilts his hips forward and you press back, meeting him.

He gasps and his other hand moves to your waist, gripping you firmly as he holds you still. A soft, trembling “fuck…” slips from him, a shiver rippling through his body at the sensation—his cock still sensitive as it’s squeezed between your tight, needy walls, feeling you clench and drag him deeper.

Holding you in place, his thumbs rub at the divot in your lower back, grounding both of you. Leaning over you, he crowds you easily, teeth grazing your jaw as you tilt your head back to give him more access.

“I want you to make yourself cum over my cock,” he urges, and you already know you’ll do anything for him. Your body quivers with pleasure, eyes fluttering as you try to keep them fixed on him in the mirror. His teeth nip between kisses along your jaw as you reach a hand beneath you, slipping it between your thighs.

You find your clit easily, met with the slickness of his cum mixed with your own wetness, circling the sensitive nub as you squeeze around his cock. Noah groans against your jaw, his head pressing close to yours as his hands settle at your hips, keeping you in place while he grinds into you—the drag of his cock between your walls encouraging every slow, desperate movement of your fingers.

The pleasure builds quickly now, rising with dizzying intensity. Turning your head, your mouth meets his in the best kiss you can offer—sloppy, heated, hungry, moaning into each other’s mouths as he continues to grind, using your cunt as his own personal fleshlight, working you like a fuckdoll.

You feel him twitch inside you, the stutter in his movements as he’s edged closer. Your cunt squeezes around him again, recognizing the signs, urging him, needing him to cum with you, to cum inside you and fill you all over again.

He doesn’t disappoint. His movements stay steady until you feel it, the shuddering, dizzying climax crashing over you, soaking him and your fingers. His hips jerk as his cock pulses inside you, spurting hot ropes of cum deep into you, filling you once more as his hips press flush to yours, pinning you beneath him.

31 Oct 2025 21:35

Making out with your best friend of 12 years in his kitchen on his 30th birthday was one thing. Spreading your legs for him in his bedroom a couple of hours before his day officially came to an end was another.

You and Noah were an idea you once thought far-fetched. More so, it was an idea you never even bothered to entertain.

Now, as he started pumping his thick cock in and out of you, all you could think about was why the fuck did the two of you take so long to get together?

Were you both really that oblivious or stupid or too chicken to admit your attraction for one another?

In your case, you have done so well suppressing your feelings for him for quite some time now. You never wanted it to develop in the first place to preserve your friendship, and you were doing okay until he fucking kissed you earlier today. And when you left him disappointed, all you wanted to do was run after him and kiss him again— to tell him you wanted the same thing. Although it took you almost 24 hours to do that, Noah was beyond glad and relieved to have you admit your feelings for him tonight, finally. 

After letting you deliver your monologue when you barged into his bedroom, your best friend did not waste any more time devouring your lips. And boy did he do it so hungrily— you both did— hence, the two of you ending up naked in his bed. 

You wanted to hear his side and talk more about your feelings and where this would take you, but with the way he dragged his shaft along your walls, you had to push all those thoughts away temporarily. The way his bulbous tip was hitting your cervix was just making your thoughts incoherent. 

There’s so much more important matter in front— nay, on top— of you at the moment, and you’d rather not dwell on the details anymore. At least not for now.

Focus on the present, you told yourself.

And the present involved you trying your best to control your loud moans as Noah fucked you into the very mattress the two of you used to sleep with no malice. Some of the guys were still lounging in the living room downstairs, and you surely did not want them to hear you and Noah giving in to your urges after years of stewing— after years of their constant teasing. You knew you would not hear the end of it if even just one of the guys were to find out. The bastard Nick Folio, most especially.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Noah grunted as he picked up his pace, capturing your lips into a searing kiss. “So fucking tight.” 

You winced, hearing the bed squeak with each of his thrusts. 

“Fuck, N-Noah,” you tried to whisper in between moans, lightly tapping his bare chest. “W-we have to be quiet. The guys w-will know.”

“So?” He scoffed, his movements not relenting one bit. He pecked your cheek before murmuring, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this with you. I’ve waited so fucking long.”

“But…”

“I am not holding back, baby.” He slammed hard into you. “They can listen, for all I care.”

You wanted to protest and tell him that you’re not yet ready to reveal whatever you two were to your friends. But the way your tattooed best friend moved his cock in and out of your stretched pussy, the way he dragged his wet lips along the valley of your chest before lewdly sucking your nipples, the way his long fingers played with your puffy clit simultaneously– all of this was again not helping you think straight and was just making you moan wantonly. A little bit too loud for your liking.

Realizing your slip-up, your eyes went wide as you immediately covered your mouth with one hand, while the other found purchase in Noah’s bicep. 

You couldn’t fully blame yourself for being loud, though, since the last time you had been intimate with a guy was over a year ago. It had been that long, and your current partner’s performance certainly did not help. 

Now you know why girls couldn’t stay away from him.

“Fuck, aren’t you just made for me?” Bringing his mouth back to your neck, he peppered your jaw with tiny kisses until his teeth reached your earlobe. “You’re squeezing me so tight, babe.”

“Noah–ah!” You cried into his shoulder as he plunged even deeper into you, his arms pushing your thighs up to your chest to allow him more access. 

The new position you were in made your pussy throb even harder; his tip reaching places you never thought possible. 

“That’s right, baby, don’t hold back. Do you feel that? That is all for you; I’ve always wanted it to be only you… I’m gonna make sure you’re not gonna want anyone else after we’re done.”

“Noah, I-I’m close…”

“Oh yeah? Let go for me, fucking milk my cock, my love.”

All this dirty talk from your best friend surely sent you to the edge, and before you knew it, you were trying to squeeze your thighs shut and squealing like a little slut against Noah’s inked skin.

His big hands, though, kept your thighs open for him to continue assaulting your clenching pussy.

“Shit, f-fuck Noah…”

“Yeah, baby, I got you,” he whispered against your cheek, smirking at your euphoric state. As you came down from your high, Noah decided to pull out, making you wince from the sensitivity.

Propping yourself on your elbows, you wondered about his own release. “Are you done-“

You did not get to finish your question as your 6’3 best friend manhandled you on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He lightly tapped your butt as you got yourself comfortable against his pillows. You were quick to follow orders and lifted your ass towards his kneeling figure. 

Noah snickered at how you instantly spread your legs open for him without even being told. The way your folds glistened and your sticky juices coated your inner thighs could make him come in that instant. 

But if there was something he mastered after all these years of pining for you, it was patience and self-control.

So instead of plunging his dick back into your slick walls, he made you gasp loudly when his tongue licked a stripe along your wet and still sensitive folds. Each of his hands kept your ass cheeks open as his mouth placed kisses on your puffy lips before he dipped the tip of his tongue into your throbbing hole.

“Noah… fuck mmm…”

If there’s one thing you were thankful for in this position, it’s the way you could bury your face into the pillow to conceal your moans. And it really helped, especially when his fingers once again found your clit to flick and play with. 

“Fuck, baby, you taste you fucking good,” he murmured against your core, his tongue running from your clit to your hole where he then inserted his two long fingers, which your walls immediately clenched around. “And so needy, I see.”

You could only moan uncontrollably against his now damp pillow when he pistoned his digits in and out of you while his mouth made out with your folds. 

“You’re so wet. Ready for my cock again, babe?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you nodded at your best friend, who was back to his kneeling position behind you, his calloused palms caressing your buttcheeks as if it was his first time. His cock remained rock hard against his abdomen, which was now covered by a sheen of sweat along with his forehead. 

You couldn’t help but whimper as you bit your lip at the anticipation of being impaled anew by his thick shaft. That did not go unnoticed by Noah, making him push inside you slowly, albeit extra hard, in an instant— making sure you felt every inch of him from base to tip.

It did not take long for him to start thrusting inside you like a maniac, hands grabbing your hips to pull you up to him every time he pushed.

And it almost sent you to the edge once more; the obscenity filling the room with the sound of his bed squeaking, your damp skin slapping, Noah’s pubic hairs tickling your butt, your pussy squelching with his cock’s movements, and the guttural moans he never dared conceal. You lay there whimpering, defeated— for sure, everyone outside his bedroom already knew the two of you were having sex.

But looking back, your friends were already giving you knowing looks when you arrived at the house earlier, searching for Noah. Folio had his usual shit-eating grin as he told you the birthday boy only left his room today to grab some food and was surely waiting for you to ‘make up’ for last night. Michael was wiggling his brows at you when he asked you if you finally came bearing Noah’s ‘birthday gift’. The rest were smirking at you when you finally took the stairs to your best friend’s room. 

Hence, the idea of the two of you getting together should not come as a shock anymore. But still, you just knew that their initial reaction would be mortifying. 

But then again, Noah’s sweaty torso hovering over your equally sweaty back reminded you that what your friends thought of the two of you should really not matter. And it’s not like the boys did not approve of this when Noah showed the very first indication of his attraction to you years ago. If anything, they had been your number one supporter even when you yourself did not know yet. Nick Folio included.

“Baby, I-I’m close,” he whispered against your ear, burying his face into your hair. “Where do you want me?”

“I-inside,” you gasped. You could also feel your climax nearing with the way his cock was relentlessly hitting your spot. “I’m on the pill. F-fill me up, please… baby.”

And that did it for him.

Noah’s thrusts became erratic, and with one final push, you felt his thick, hot strands of come spurting inside you. The feeling alone made you explode for the second time around his throbbing cock, your juices mixing inside your womb. 

Noah slowly collapsed on top of you, catching his breath to calm down before finally pulling out. 

He dragged his nose along your shoulder before placing wet kisses on your warm skin. You were sure he was smiling the whole time.

“Best birthday gift ever,” he chuckled into your ear, lightly biting your earlobe. “I could get used to celebrating my birthday from here on if I get this kind of present every damn time.”

You playfully scoffed, turning around to face him. The all too familiar smugness in Noah’s face was back against his flushed skin. 

You were about to open your mouth to throw a rebuttal, but both of you were startled by the sudden loud music in max volume playing right outside the bedroom door.

At that point, you just wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

Girl you know I-I-I Girl you know I-I-I Don’t need candles or cake Just need your body to make

“Folio, go to fucking hell!” Feeling your cheeks burn, you frustratingly yelled at your younger friend, whose annoying face was surely on the other side, and threw one of the pillows at the door as if it would stop their antics. You could hear their shameless laughs from the outside, which also made Noah do the same as he collapsed next to you, running his fingers through his sweaty hair.

You smacked your best friend’s naked chest while shooting him a death glare.

And before you could retract your hand, Noah was quick to grab it, interlacing your fingers with his and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

Now your cheeks burned for a whole different reason.

What a happy birthday for him, indeed.

Her younger self would simply not believe how far she had come, how far out of her comfort zone she was just by being here.

And by here, she meant at a bar she had never been before, with people she didn’t know six months ago, in a country she hadn’t even visited prior to moving there, an ocean apart from family and friends.

But she was making new ones, and that was good. She could be proud of herself. She didn’t miss home half as much as she first feared when she agreed to the position.

She had tried to make an effort for her first real outing - she had spent an inordinate amount of time choosing her outfit, as if it mattered. But she felt as though she had to make a good impression, and she refused to turn full american girl and wear active wear when she didn’t actively work out. 

Her knee-high boots, lacey tights, midi skirt and black top were perfect to go out and get drinks - just rock’n’roll enough for a bar, but still put together. Kids these days might call it whimsy-goth, but she would hit thirty in a couple months and refused to say this out loud, not even to her full length mirror as she stared at her reflection.

"You're a brave, strong, self-assured woman," she tried to hype herself up, pointing a finger at her reflection. "You look elegant and sexy and- oh, fuck it! Whimsy, I guess."

No one would suspect she moved in just a few months ago, her place was entirely furnished and decorated as if she had spent years here, carefully hand picking home decor. She couldn’t stand living in boxes, and had refused to spend more than a week on unboxing her belongings. She raided all thrift stores in a fifty-mile radius as soon as she got her hands on a car. 

Turning her phone off silent mode now that her work day was over, she nodded at her reflection, applied a bit of perfume, and decided good enough was good enough. 

The European in her wanted to walk to the bar, but she had made that mistake once and learned to check the distance before engaging in an hour-long trek through town in heels. Google Maps said it was an hour and a half to go there - she sighed, shoulders slumping.

At the same time, her phone chimed, a message popping up.

Need a ride? ;) - Kate

Thank fuck for Kate who lived a few streets away and always enjoyed flaunting her vintage car. Alice could not, for the life of her, be more specific about the car’s model or brand, she couldn’t be bothered to remember anything about cars because she simply wasn’t interested. It was a nice looking, sexy little car though, that much she could admit.

Please. - Alice

Ten minutes later, her ride was here, blaring music so loud Alice was tempted to hide her face so her neighbours wouldn’t know she was the cause of this ruckus. 

“Get in loser, we’re going drinking!”

Alice smiled at the reference and did as she was told. 

*

The music was very loud in the bar, even more so because their table was right next to a large speaker, but Noah didn’t mind, it gave him an excuse not to take part in the conversation his friends were having, leaning over the table and shouting at one another.

Coming back home after a tour was always difficult for him - as if coming down from a high. Spending an evening alone in his barely lived-in apartment after having been acclaimed by thousands of people screaming their name over and over gave him the worst case of withdrawal. A little pathetic really, how much time he needed to get back to normal. He immediately called his friends - bandmates - and invited them for drinks. All drinks on him tonight. They all said yes, never ones to turn down a free beer.

And now, he wasn’t even paying them any attention.

He took a sip of his lukewarm alcohol free beer all the while staring at the table of women just a few tables down their own. They were five, sitting in a circle around a too small table, littered with empty glasses. It was a busy night and the staff could barely keep up. They seemed to be having a good night, great even. 

They hadn’t stopped laughing since he first noticed them. Even from afar he could tell it was because of the pretty brunette slowly sipping her drink. She wasn’t as loud as the rest of them, preferring a reserved smile, but all eyes were on her, the center of attention. 

She’d slap a hand over her mouth whenever she got carried away, as if afraid to bother anyone. Noah thought it was ridiculous, because nobody could hear themselves in here, but also terribly cute. He felt a little stupid staring at her like a creep, but he hadn’t been able to draw his attention away from her since Nick whistled and elbowed him in the ribs when she came in with her friend. She had shyly greeted everyone, having arrived last apparently, doing her best to blend in and be a part of the group.

She stood out in the best way, in his opinion. Out of the five of them, she was the only one that wasn’t blond, wearing a short skirt or a plunging neckline, as if she hadn’t gotten the memo. She wore her hair down, it covered her shoulders and reached the middle of her back.

“Noah has a crush,” one of his friends said, catching his attention.

He gave them all a side glance and rolled his eyes.

“Go talk to her,” Folio encouraged him. “You haven’t had a shag this whole tour.”

They all nudged him towards the woman’s table, like a bunch of school boys trying to get their virgin friend to pop his cherry. He groaned and shook  his head. What was he going to do? Walk up to a table of five women and ask if he could steal one away? He wasn’t a movie character, this was a rock bar in downtown Los Angeles, packed full of sweaty people, and honestly, what scared him most was that they simply wouldn’t hear a word out of his mouth in this loud music.

“Someone else will, if you don’t,” Jolly said with a shrug, but they dropped the subject and went back to listing all the video games they wanted to play now that they finally had a break.

Noah finished his beer and waved the empty bottle to his friends, showing them he was going to get another one at the bar. It also gave him an excuse to be a little closer to the beautiful stranger, if only to try and get a glimpse of her voice.

He sat on a stool at the bar, and the bartender gave him a nod, showing him he would be there shortly to take his order. He could wait, he didn’t mind. It was far better here, now that he didn’t have a speaker blasting music directly into his ear. It would be his luck if he became deaf now.

He sat with his back to them, but he would have bet the sudden fit of laughter coming from behind him was her. It was the most real laugh he had heard in a while, not the polite, controlled laugh some women had, too afraid to sound anything but dainty. She remembered herself and stopped when she realized how loud she was being, and he thought it was a shame. 

Noah could tell two things for sure. One: she didn’t care to sound pretty. Two: she thought whatever her friend had said was absolutely hilarious. He wouldn’t be surprised to see tears in her eyes if he turned around, and he was fighting with himself to repress the urge to do just so. He already saw she tended to throw her head back when she laughed, and it sent a jolt down to his core.

He felt the sudden and demanding urge to be the one to make her laugh like that. 

Then, a phone started ringing, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Oh, sorry I have to get this,” one of them said, and god he was sure it was her again. He could barely make out her voice over the sound of her friends booing her for leaving the table to take a call. 

From the corner of his eye, Noah saw her get up and walk towards the front door, phone in hand, bag on her shoulder, her free hand covering her opposite ear.

His leg kept bouncing anxiously, and he waited another minute or two for the bartender to come take his order, but when he failed to do so, he stood up again.

“Fuck it!” he said to himself by way of encouragement. 

He followed her outside.

*

“Tu sais quelle heure il est ici?(1)” Alice asked the person on the other end of the line.

It was close to midnight now, much later than she thought it was, but that only meant she was having a good time.

“Tu sais quelle heure il est ici?” the voice snarled back, parroting her unflatteringly.

It belonged to her sister, three years her senior, and unable to hide the disapprovement from her voice whenever she called.

“Tôt ? Tard ? Je sais pas. Pourquoi tu appelles ?” Alice didn’t even know why she bothered, whatever her sister wanted, it was only going to end up in her criticizing her life choices.

“Eh ben moi non plus je sais pas! Je t’appelle quand je peux, et aujourd’hui c’est avant le boulot.”

“Il est minuit passé ici, crache le morceau.” She was rubbing her face and wanted this conversation to be over.

“Qu’est-ce que je fais de toute la merde qui continue d’être redirigé vers ma boîte aux lettres là ? J’ai des tonnes de courriers pour toi, je sais plus où foutre tou-”

Alice hung up, letting out a shuddering breath as she turned off her phone. She was going to call back and be even more pissed, but she didn’t want to talk about forwarding her mail in the middle of a night out, getting yelled at for something so trivial.

Sometimes she wondered if her sister’s life was so boring that she had to make excuses to call her and be mean to someone without consequences.

Determined not to let that ruin her night, Alice took in a deep, calming breath and spun on her heels when she felt collected enough, ready to go back inside, but instead she bumped straight into a wall.

A person, she walked into a very tall, very tattooed person, she realized when she stepped back and looked at him. He looked surprised too, as if he hadn’t seen her there either - which couldn’t be possible.

The stranger was well over six feet, with a sharp nose and brown hair just long enough to fall a little in his eyes. He wore black pants and a black jacket, buttoned up, with tattoos coming out of his collar and all the way up his neck. He was also indubitably handsome, as evidenced by the pang in her chest when she met his eyes.

Alice didn’t realize she was staring, and perhaps it served him well because he was staring right back, both seemingly struck mute, until-

“Hi,” she croaked out, breaking the silence between them, to his utmost relief.

“Hi,” he answered, his lips quirking into the tiniest of smiles.

She relaxed when she realized he wasn’t mad that she walked into him, that he just didn’t know what to say. And apparently neither did she.

“Hi,” Alice repeated, unable to repress the little smile creeping onto her face as she continued studying his face.

There was a heavy pause.

“I was going to say hi, but then I heard you speak-” he made a hand gesture, seeming embarrassed and not finding his words. “-french?” It sounded like a question, and she was happy to answer.

“Yes, I’m French. I speak French. But I speak English too, we can talk,” she sputtered out. So much for being smooth, she had never said anything so awkward in her life. “Sorry,” she apologized then, which only made it worse.

“For what?” Noah asked, now smiling.

A part of him was immensely reassured that she appeared as flustered as he was.

“For being socially inept. I shouldn’t be allowed out on the streets,” she simply blurted out, shaking her head, laughing at her own expense.

He was stunned by her bluntness, his brows shooting upward.

“I should probably thank you, I was putting off trying to talk to you because I was afraid to be too awkward,” he felt secure enough to admit in face of her own fumbling.

“Clearly a misplaced fear,” she replied, regaining some confidence now that the ice was broken. “I’m Alice by the way.”

“Noah,” he said by way of introduction. “You here on vacation with friends?” he asked, nodding his head towards the inside of the bar.

He took out a cigarette, he couldn't help it. He didn’t smoke much apart from special occasions when he went out, but he didn’t know what else to do with his hands now that he didn’t have a beer to hold and he refused to shove them inside his pockets like some blushing teenager.

“Oh no!” She waved the idea off. “They are work friends. I moved here for work. Full time LA girl,” she shrugged, “for now anyway.”

Why, ô why, couldn’t she form complex sentences anymore? She refused to carry on this conversation speaking only in subject-verb-complement phrases. What was it about him that made her lose her composure? 

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she began to blush as soon as their eyes locked again. They hooked her to him in a way she had never experienced before. She was rooted to the ground, the breath knocked out of her by the force of his pull.

He was beautiful in a way she couldn’t describe.

“Mysterious,” Noah laughed. “Can I ask what it is you do?”

She chuckled, and she dared a little mischievous smile as she looked up at him, tilting her head slightly to the side. After a beat, she took his cigarette from him and brought it to her own lips without asking permission. He stared at her, shocked and… something else. Something he didn’t care to put a label on for now.

“Why don’t you go first, Noah?”

note: It's been so long since I've written anything, I feel so rusty, but this was a long-awaited request in my inbox. I haven't been able to get any words out, thanks to the wonderful not life of full-time employment that has completely consumed all of my time and sanity, but today's pic of Noah got me to finish this draft. He is so fucking fine, like what the hell. ANYWAY- thank you to the anon who requested this! I'm sorry it took me so long to get out.

Also, apologies if this is repetitive, it feels a bit all over the place and boring, but I simply do not care atm and want to get out any piece of writing I can and ride this wave of inspiration. (I am desperate, lmao)

but also, I am literally drunk. So yay for repetitive chaos.

lol.

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

13 weeks felt all but too long.

Despite the daily texts, voice notes, and half-awake calls across time zones; you still ached for him.

It was the kind of ache that settled deep and constant, something that never really went away- especially when his name lit up your screen, leaving your fingers to linger and watch the way his picture smiled back at you.

Noah had also tried to hide how much he missed you, worried you’d stress about him, about the distance, and about the exhaustion he couldn’t quite shake.

Though, he never really did a great job of it.

You could always hear it in the cracks of his voice at 3am, or in the barely-there sighs when your laugh reached him through a weak connection.

Yet, despite his exhaustion, he always asked you to “tell me again”, just to hear your voice for a little bit longer.

Just so he didn’t have to hang up quite yet.

But distance was distance, and no amount of calls could replace the weight of his hands on you, or the warmth of his breath brushing against your neck.

So when the tour finally started winding to a close, you decided to surprise him at their last show.

Bryan had let you in with a quick hug and a knowing grin before sliding onto the stage to snap some opening pictures.

You slipped in just as the house lights dropped, listening to the crowd erupting in the kind of roar that rattled your ribs.

The air hummed with bass and anticipation, the stage lit in sharp, electric flashes. You stayed close to the wings, half-hidden behind a stack of equipment carts, fingers curled into your jacket as you tried to steady your breathing.

After all the time apart, and too many nights falling asleep with a phone pressed to your ear- you couldn’t help but feel nervous that he was now just a few feet away.

The band hit the stage in a wave of sound, your chest tightening the second you saw him pounce into place.

He looked good. Unfairly good.

And it made your knees weak, reminding you exactly how long it had been since you last touched him.

You kept your gaze on him even though you knew he couldn’t see you from the stage.

Until halfway through the second song, he glanced toward the wing.

It was a quick, distracted sweep until he snapped his head again sharper, and froze.

The brunette’s mouth faltered on the lyrics, just barely, but his eyes didn’t budge.

They locked onto you as if the rest of the arena had gone silent.

He didn’t- couldn’t- look away.

Not when the lights hit him, or when Folio’s drums kicked harder. Not even when the crowd screamed louder.

Noah’s chest rose hard and rapidly, fingers gripping the mic tightly, and perhaps, it almost looked like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Thirteen weeks.

Too long.

And the way he was staring at you from the stage?

It was definitely overdue.

Noah didn’t miss a beat after that, and if anything, he sang harder. His October eyes kept snagging on the side stage, greedy and disbelieving, drinking you in between every line he delivered to thousands of people who didn’t matter half as much as you.

You smiled when Jolly caught on by doing a dramatic double take, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at his guitar. Noah nearly collided with him on the way across the stage, feet skidding as if he couldn’t decide whether to perform or sprint straight to you.

By the time the last note of the song faded and the stage lights dipped for intermission, your pulse was already a mess.

You barely had time to exhale before someone’s hand slid around your wrist, firm, certain.

A grip so hungry it made your breath catch.

Noah didn’t say a word as he pulled you down the narrow hallway that led backstage. He just kept walking, pulling you past the crew who tossed questionable looks your way.

He didn’t stop until he had you pressed gently to a wall, his breathing harsh in the dim glow of the hallway light. His hand stayed on your wrist, thumb brushing where your pulse thundered under his touch.

Up close, he looked wrecked in the most beautiful way; his hair damp, chest rising fast, eyes scanning your face to memorize it all over again.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered, voice warm and low against your cheek.

And then a grin split across his face, wide and giddy as his fingers twitched at your waist; hovering lightly to avoid pulling you in, knowing he wouldn’t be able to pull away.

“You’re-” he huffed a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “You’re actually here.”

He finally let his palm settle on your hip, and you smiled back, brushing your nose against his while gripping the back of his inked neck.

“You can’t just show up like this, beautiful,” he murmured, a shaky laugh in his throat as his forehead pressed against yours. “I almost dropped the fucking mic.”

And while steadying himself on the familiar shape of you, he leaned in to capture your lips in a greedy kiss.

He exhaled against your mouth in a breath he’d held since day one of leaving, fingers clawing into your jacket as his teeth grazed your tongue in a desperate, starving sweep.

You felt his grip tighten, grinding his forehead against yours while he swallowed a quiet, broken sound, until his name was called down the hall.

“Hey! Noah-”

Ruffilo’s voice rang through the walls, and Noah froze for a brief second, an annoyed grumble crawling from his throat.

His lips brushed yours, breath shaking while pulling away,

Noah’s hand flexed briefly on your hip as Ruffilo rounded the corner, eyes widening the moment he saw the two of you pinned against the wall.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he blinked, backing up a half-step. “My bad. Sorry. Intermission’s almost over. Just…uh…yeah.”

He was already turned around, heading back down the hall while his fingers raked through his hair awkwardly.

Noah let out a slow exhale against your cheek.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, voice low as he pressed a frustrated kiss at the corner of your mouth, eyes begging.

Gripping your chin quickly, fingers firm, he turned your face toward him to steal one more kiss- pulling a sharp inhale straight from your throat.

Noah then leaned back just enough to look at you, before stepping back half an inch. His fingers closed around your wrist in reflex.

“You,” he breathed, the word sounding like a warning, before sliding his hand away, forcing distance with visible pain on his face.

“Meet me in the dressing room,” he said firmly. “I can’t have you looking at me like that from side stage.”

He swallowed hard, jaw clenching, eyes dragging down your body before breathing heavily.

“You’re gonna ruin me out there,” he added under his breath, taking another step backward and walking away reluctantly, “And I’ve still got half a set left.”

“Well, good luck out there, rock star,” you teased, and his eyes didn’t leave you until the very last second before he turned the corner.

+

You waited patiently in the dressing room, perched on the edge of the couch, watching someone’s livestream of the concert. Noah was clearly distracted, missing words and constantly looking past the screaming fans towards the side stage, just in case you didn’t listen to him.

When the final note of dethrone rang through the stadium, he was gone, and it wasn’t long until you heard heavy, quick footsteps marching down the hall.

The dressing room door flew open, slamming against the wall as Noah stumbled inside, hair wet, sweat shining down the strong line of his throat, chest rising in sharp, needy pulls.

He ignored the call of his name as he kicked the door shut, sliding the lock into place with a shaky hand.

“Noah-” You began, pushing up from the couch until he crashed into you with a kiss so fierce it knocked you back into the furniture.

One of his inked hands tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip to anchor himself.

“I have missed you so fucking much,” he breathed against your mouth between hungry pulls.

He fumbled blindly with your coat, never breaking the kiss until his lips dragged along your jaw, then your cheek, and back to your mouth.

“We’re not leaving-” he muttered as he pressed you into the couch, bracing himself above you with shaking arms, “-until I’ve had you everywhere I’ve been missing you.”

He dipped his head, teeth grazing your throat, a low, frustrated sound rumbling out of him as your fingers brushed the back of his neck.

“Thirteen weeks,” he whispered against your skin, hot and trembling. “Too fucking long.”

He slid his hand under the hem of your shirt, palm spreading flat over your stomach, moving upward in slow, torturous inches with a kind of claim that sent heat pooling low in your body.

His forehead pressed into you again, his breath mixing with yours as he hovered there, overwhelmed.

“Tell me I can touch you,” he rasped, desperate fingers tugging at the hem of your jeans. “Please.”

His nose brushed your cheek, lips barely missing yours as he groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your throat. You couldn’t help the soft laugh that slipped from you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his damp black t-shirt while his hips pressed forward, shameless and searching, letting you feel just how much he wanted you.

“I’m losing my mind,” he breathed, thumb hooking into your waistband before easing your zipper down with shaky determination. “I need you. I need to feel your pussy wrapped around me.”

His hand tightened on your hip, pulling you flush against him, dragging another soft sound from your lips as he swallowed with a hungry look.

“Say yes to me taking you right here,” he whispered, frayed, “Baby…say yes so I don’t have to pretend I’m fine anymore.”

Your breath hitched low in your throat, the scrape of his thumb under your waistband sparking pleasure that radiated out in warm waves.

With your pulse jumping in your neck, you gave a slow nod against his temple, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," you murmured, sliding a hand up from his neck to the strands of his hair.

He let out a feverous sound as his head dropped against your shoulder, grinding his teeth on his bottom lip in an attempt to hold back.

He parted his legs farther on either side of you, the hard lines of his black slacks straining against the pressure.

Swallowing the hunger that surged up his throat, Noah unbuckled his belt before undressing you with a steadiness that contrasted the trembling of his hands.

Your jeans were barely pulled below the line of your hips before he spat onto his hand, coating your arousal in his saliva.

“When we get home, I’m going to take my time with you,” He promised, relishing in the way your head fell back onto the couch as his slim fingers traced the shape of you. “I want to feel you on my tongue. Taste the way you cream along my cock.”

Noah slid his fingers inside, stretching your walls before passing his thumb along your clit. “But I can’t wait another second. I need you wrapped around me.”

His breath caught when your hands moved to help him tug his pants down swiftly, exposing the length of him beneath his boxers.

He cursed when you licked your fingers before coating his cock; and his hips jerked forward, the contact enough to make him shudder.

"Noah," you whimpered, your own fingers gripping the sides of his face. His brows furrowed in desperation as he pushed into your hand, throwing his head back as he swallowed hard.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, hooded eyes growing focused as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock pressed against you, teasing slowly and deliberately.

"Tell me again," he whispered against your ear, voice shaking with urgency, echoing the words he'd muttered over countless phone calls, but this time, the intimacy of it made your heart race.

"Yes," you gasped, “Please just fuck me.”

With the rustling fabric of clothes between heavy breaths and soft moans, Noah buried himself deep inside you with a groan that vibrated against your collarbone. His hips stuttered, pulling back only to thrust forward, plunging deeper each time.

And with a harsh, shuddering breath, he began to lose himself, his world tilting with each hard thrust. He ignored the pain when he bit down on his lip, the taste of iron mingling with the salty beads of sweat cascading down his forehead, the sensation of you wrapped around him making him dizzy.

You looked up at him briefly, catching the sly tilt of his smile before his lips found the way to your neck, tongue tracing the lines of your collarbone.

You felt him tremble, jaw clenched, breath coming hard as he buried himself deep again; his hips rocking in a sharp rhythm that made your back arch off the couch.

The pace was relentless; raw and needy as your cries rang between the dressing room walls.

“Holy, fucking, shit,” He groaned between thrusts, fingers clawing at your torso, hips, arms- anything he could grab onto.

His pace switched into a mix of slow, deep thrusts, ensuring you felt the entire length of him filling you up, sinking into the missing space.

“You feel like heaven. I don’t wanna pull out, baby. I don’t wanna leave.”

Pulling your legs back to your chest, you watched the way his eyes refused to leave your own.

“Then don’t,” you gasped, “Cum inside me, please.”

His grip slipped under your thigh, pushing you down and angling just right so he could slide even deeper, the wet sounds of your bodies crashing together loud and shameless in the echo of the small room.

“Say it again,” he panted against your throat. “Say yes again. Say it like you mean it.”

“Cum inside me,” you begged, raking your fingers up his shirt and down his back. “It’s been so long.”

Noah leaned down and bit your shoulder gently, his hips stuttering as one hand tangled in the couch cushion behind your head to brace himself, thrusts becoming frantic to feel his release.

Your plea echoed in his ears, the rush of possession it stirred within him courtesy of your surrender and trust; a lethal cocktail that pushed him closer to the edge.

"Noah," you gasped his name in prayer again, the sound of your voice, your hands in his hair, your legs tightening around him, sending shivers down his spine.

Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the hot flush of your body, and you reached up to brush the strands of his hair away from his face.

The simple act slowed his movements for a split second, his eyes meeting yours. His heart pounded against his ribs, hammering in sync with the rhythm of his body, caught between wanting to prolong the moment and filling you again and again, and then he let go.

His body shook as he spilled himself inside you, his shouts swallowed by the frantic beat of your heart. With a final, shuddering groan, he stiffened, then collapsed onto you with a heavy sigh.

You let your fingers trail up and down his back, tracing the familiar tattoos you had missed so much.

"God, I’ve missed you," he murmured against your neck, fingers delicately drawing patterns on your hip.

"Believe me," you whispered, threading your hand through his tousled hair, "I've felt every day you’ve been away."

“When I get you home,” he began, one hand sliding between your bodies, his thumb dragging lazy, perfect circles over your clit again, “I’m putting you on your knees.”

Your mouth fell open, hips jolting, but he didn’t let up.

“I’m gonna taste you till you’re shaking. And then I’m gonna fuck you so slow, you cry.”

Noah’s other hand wrapped around your neck, gentle yet firm, pinning you to the couch with the kind of dominance that made your pulse leap.

“You’re not walking tomorrow.”

The words were a hiss in your ear, teeth grazing like the shell of a threat.

“So you think this was me desperate?” he snarled, grinding one last time, “You haven’t seen me obsessed.”

When he finally pulled out, your breath hitched at the mess between your thighs; his cum slick and warm, dripping onto the fabric beneath you.

And he stared at it like a man possessed.

“I’m not letting you out of my bed,” he muttered. “Not until you forget what distance ever fucking felt like.”

Noah then pulled you onto his chest, dragging your body over his, and you could still feel the tremble of restraint in his limbs.

“Not until your pussy’s so used to me again it won’t take anything else without crying for me first.”

His chest heaved against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat pounding wildly under your fingertips where they curled against his spine.

But even with his cock still twitching inside you, and even with his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, he didn’t soften.

Instead, he pressed his mouth to your ear. “I’m not finished.”

Shivering beneath him, you held him close, chuckling into his cheek. He rolled his hips once more, slow and possessive, fucking his release back into you before swallowing your gasp with his mouth.

“When I get you home,” he whispered, reaching between your bodies and circling your clit with the pads of his fingers, “I’m gonna put you on your knees.”

Your mouth fell open, eyes closing as he thrusted slowly, matching the pace of his hand. “I’m gonna taste you until you’re shaking…And then, I’m gonna fuck you again- but so fucking slow you’ll cry.”

His free hand wrapped around your neck gently, pressing you into the couch.

“You’re not fucking walking tomorrow,” he hissed, teeth grazing your ear, “You think this was me desperate? You haven’t seen me obsessed.”

He finally pulled out, sitting up to watch the way his cum dripped out of you, eyes blown wide and completely undone.

“I’m not letting you out of my bed,” he said. “Not until I’ve made you come so many times you forget we were ever apart.”

He collapsed back onto the couch, dragging you onto his sweaty frame while relishing in the familiar throb of pleasure running up his spine and down into his limbs; something he only felt with you.

As you stared at him longingly, chest heaving, his eyes lingered over your face, taking in every flushed detail lit by the dim lighting of the dressing room.

Then, with a soft moan, he caught your wrist and brought your hand to his lips.

Noah placed a kiss onto each fingertip, letting his lips linger over the delicate skin before guiding your hands away and onto his shoulders.

Your eyes were heavy, half-lidded as they watched him; his heartbeat thundering in his ears as you stared at him so intently.

And he wouldn't trade that look for anything.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He smiled, kissing you again.

(I’m sorry but he is just so fucking fine like WHAT EVEN- LOOK AT HIM!!! BITCH WHAT THE FUCK)

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