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You can tell that Noah has simply been itching for your tattoo to heal. Sometimes, you catch him staring at your tattoo, lost in his thoughts. He always blushes so sweetly and gets flustered when you ask him what he’s thinking about. Sometimes, you catch his fingers hovering just above the skin of your back, and you can tell that he’s itching to reach out and touch it. 

Noah never fails to mention just how pretty your tattoo looks, and how perfectly the ink accentuates your body. He seems to have developed a little bit of a fixation with it.

Life has been fairly hectic recently. Your tattoo has long healed—yet Noah hasn’t had the time to do much more than simply wistfully trace his finger along it while you shower before bed. Still though, despite how busy the two of you are—you can sense the desperation that’s bubbling beneath Noah’s skin. 

When you get home after a long workday, you’re exhausted—and you’re feeling a little bit needy, too. 

Once you walk through your front door, you immediately spot your sweet puppy sitting on the couch, watching something on the TV. He barely manages to squeak out a quiet ‘hi’ before you’re crawling atop his lap, straddling him. You cup his face between your hands, gently rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

“Hi, sweet puppy.”

He looks so happy now that you’re here. He’s got that wide, adorable smile on his face. If he had a tail, it would be wagging, enthusiastically thumping against the couch. Your sweet boy is always so genuinely delighted when you come home.

“How was your day?” You ask.

“It was good. I hung out with Jolly, then we got lunch together afterwards.”

Your hand slowly begins to slide up Noah’s leg, lightly squeezing his thigh. He lets out a shaky little inhale, but other than that, he pays no mind to your touch. 

“How was your day?” He asks.

“I’m so tired. Work was exhausting. I wish I could just shut my brain off.”

“We can watch a movie or something together, if you’d like. Or we can go to bed and take a nap. I could run you a hot bath? It might help, especially if you’re feeling a little bit tense. I’ve already made dinner, so you don’t have to worry about cooking tonight. I could also—”

Noah goes silent as he watches you pull your necklace out from beneath your shirt. His eyes follow your movements, as a beam of light reflects off of the key that hangs from the chain. You dangle the chain in front of him, tantalisingly swinging it. Noah’s breath catches as he watches you unclasp the necklace, and remove the key from the chain. 

He’s silent, unmoving. He swallows, waiting for your next movements. 

You reach down, cupping his bulge through his sweats. You feel for the firm plastic that you know is there. Noah lets out a soft whine. It feels so objectifying. 

“Has my sweet puppy been behaving himself?”

Noah nods. He’s at a loss for words.

“I’m just so exhausted after the week I’ve had. I think I just need a good, thourough fucking. I need to get thoroughly railed ‘till I can’t think. Do you think you could do that for me, pup?”

Your sweet puppy looks like his brain has just short-circuited.

“Puppy?”

Noah swallows. “I—I—yeah I can do that. I can do that for you.”

You stand up, clicking your tongue. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs then.” 

Once you’re in the bedroom, you waste no time before getting undressed. Noah does the same. His movements are hurried and almost clumsy. It’s adorable just how desperate he is. 

You sit down on the bed, your back propped against the headboard. You motion for Noah to join you. He does so eagerly, straddling your lap.

He’s such a vision like this, sitting on your lap, naked, his cock locked in his tiny cage. It looks so adorably small compared to the rest of him. When you meet his eyes, you can tell that he’s very nearly completely gone into that subby headspace of his. You can tell that there’s not a single coherent thought behind those big brown eyes of his. 

“Your pretty little cock is so adorable,” you say, as you trace your finger along his locked cock. You tap your nail against the plastic, just to provoke him a little bit and get him more riled up. 

Noah’s breath catches in his chest as you retrieve the key. You take your time as you unlock him, prolonging the process and making it as slow as possible. Noah always makes the sweetest noises when you get him all teased and desperate.

You cup his balls with one hand, while you slide the cage off of his cock. You then carefully take away the ring that sits behind his balls. Noah makes a pitiful little noise as you accidentally jostle his cock. Your sweet boy hasn’t felt any stimulation there in a while, and every slight touch feels so overwhelming. 

You watch as his cock begins to harden. It’s so adorable to see just how worked up he is.

“Aww, you’re hard already? It’s cute just how desperate you are.”

Noah whines in response. The tips of his ears are tinged pink in embarssment—yet he can’t hide just how turned on he is. 

You retrieve the bottle of lube and drizzle the lube directly onto Noah’s cock. He flinches, whimpering about how cold it is.

“Oh you poor thing. I’m sure my pussy will make your cock feel all nice and warm, hmm?”

He whines so sweetly in response.

You spread the lube along his cock. He gasps at your touch, bucking into your hand. It’s not purposely disobedient—the poor thing genuinely can’t help it. It’s been so long since you’ve last touched him—every small touch feels like too much.

You get down onto all fours, positioning yourself. You tuck a pillow beneath your hips. You already know that it won’t be long before you lose the strength to hold yourself up. Something tells you that your sweet puppy will be particularly worked up tonight. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as his finger traces the outline of your back tattoo. 

His touch makes you shiver—it feels like a promise of what’s yet to come. 

You reach your hand behind you, wrapping it around Noah’s cock. Your sweet puppy knows that he’s not allowed to touch his cock, regardless of the circumstances—and that includes moments like these. He’s forced to wait until you guide his cock into your pussy. It’s a little rule that you’ve established between the two of you. You’re well aware of the fact that Noah loves how objectified it makes him feel—almost as if he’s just a toy that’s being used solely for your pleasure. 

You take your time, squeezing him teasingly, before guiding his cock inside you. You let out a soft moan as he presses inside. It always feels so good. You feel so thoroughly filled. Despite all of your teasing remarks about how small his cock is when it’s locked up, your sweet puppy does have quite a thick cock. He always fills you so deliciously, stretching you so nicely.

Usually, you prepare yourself a little bit before taking his cock—but not today. Today, you want to feel the stretch. 

Noah pauses once he’s fully inside you, his hips flush with yours. You let out a soft noise at the stretch. It almost feels like too much—but it also feels so good. 

“There we go,” he coos, pressing a soft kiss against your back. 

He gives you some time to adjust, which you’re very grateful for. He can’t help but trace his finger along the outline of your back tattoo while he waits. You shiver at the touch. 

“You can move now.”

Noah slowly pulls out until just the tip remains inside. He leans down, bracketing your body with his. You can feel his warm chest against your back, and you can feel how his heart races. Your puppy is just as worked up as you are. He presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, before stilling. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he whispers. “Gonna ruin that sweet pussy of yours until you can’t even think. Fill you and breed you ‘till you’re whining in pleasure.”

You can’t help the soft whimper that escapes you at his words. This is exactly what you need. 

You know that the roles have reversed a little bit, but you can’t find it yourself to care. It feels nice to be taken care of like this, to be whispered sweet threats of being ruined ‘till you can’t even think. 

Noah slams his cock back into your pussy, pulling a startled gasp from you.

He’s merciless as he begins to fuck you, his front pressed against your back as he slams his hips against you. 

You’ve asked him to service you, and he’s going to damn make sure that he does his job and makes you feel good. His desperation to be good for you fuels his thrusts. He pushes himself to fuck into you as brutally as possible. He’s been given the priviledge of fucking you—and he’ll make sure that you won’t regret it. 

It’s not long before you’re struggling to hold yourself up. Your arms buckle beneath you, and your chest falls onto the mattress. It all just feels so good. Noah doesn’t falter. His hands grab onto your hips, and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. The new angle makes it feel like he’s fucking you even deeper than before. 

He’s merciless as he fucks into you, not holding back. His cock ruthlessly brushes against that one spot inside of you, making you feel so good. You can feel your body melting into the mattress, overwhelmed by the constant pleasure that you’re feeling. 

You’re letting out a litany of soft noises that you can’t even will yourself to hold back. It all just feels so good. You can’t help how the noises effortlessly spill from your lips. You can feel your mind going blank, as you allow yourself to succumb to the pleasure. 

It’s not long before you’re tightening around Noah, as your orgasm washes over you. You’re left gasping, while Noah keeps fucking you through it.

“There we go. Doing so well for me,” he coos.

The overstimulation should be too much, but instead, it feels so delicious. Noah keeps fucking you through it, and his pace doesn’t even falter. He thrusts into you with a renewed vigour, determined to bring you to orgasm once more.

He won’t show you any mercy until he pulls another orgasm out of you. 

“Need—need more,” you whisper.

Noah slows for a moment. “What do you need?”

“Need you to go harder. Faster,” you plead. 

Noah presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, before picking up his pace. 

The gears are already turning in his head as he begins to scheme. This is the first time that he’s been allowed to fuck you since you got your back tattoo done. He needs to time this so carefully. He’s not allowed to touch himself—so he has to pull out at the exact moment that he cums, and try not to ruin his orgasm. 

He thrusts into you with a renewed vigour. Soon, you’re clenching around him, as Noah works you through your second orgasm. 

You gasp as Noah suddenly pulls out. You feel a warmth against your back, as his cum splatters against your skin. 

“Noah!”

You turn your head to look at him. His head is tilted downwards, his hair falling onto his face—but his eyes are firmly fixated on the cum that drips down your tattooed back. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his breathing. 

He’s got a sheepish little smile on his face, an adorable little smirk as his eyes meet yours.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he grins.

“Naughty pup,” you mumble, shaking your head in exasperation.

You collapse back against the bed, exhausted. 

As bratty as Noah is, he knows how to apologise. He’s gone for a moment, before he returns with a damp washcloth. The bed creaks beneath his weight as he sits down beside you. He cleans off the remains of his cum from your back. He presses soft kisses to your shoulder, murmuring a quiet apology—though you know damn well that he doesn’t regret a single thing. 

“You’re such a little shit,” you say, still a little bit breathless. ”You’re lucky I didn’t make you lick up your mess. You finally got it out of your system?”

Noah gives you a cheeky little smile. He looks thoroughly exhausted. “Mhm.”

He gets up once more, disposing of the washcloth. When he comes back, he kneels on the floor beside your bed, his face just inches away from yours. It seems that he’s taking great pleasure in seeing just how thoroughly ruined you look. He tilts your head up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you all nice and clean. My apology.”

Noah sticks to his word, taking such sweet care of you as he steps into the shower with you. He spoils you with affection, thoroughly washing your hair and body. He begins with massaging your arms, and then moves onto working the knots out of your back. You resist the urge to roll your eyes when you feel him tracing the outline of your back tattoo with his finger. All is forgiven though, once he moves onto washing your hair. The pads of his fingers scratch against your scalp—and oh, it feels so good. He dries you off afterwards, helping you get dressed—and he takes care of your hair, too.

As Noah busies himself with going through his own hair routine, you take that time to clean his cock cage. You also clean and disinfect a slightly smaller cage. It’s almost the exact same—a light blue, plastic cage—just slightly smaller. Noah hasn’t worn this one before—but you’re going to ask him if he’d like to.

When Noah joins you in the bedroom, you hold both cages out for him.

“I was thinking that we could try out a smaller size. It’s completely up to you. There’s absolutely no pressure.”

Noah’s finger traces over the smaller cage. His breath hitches.

“Have you—have you had this one for a while?”

“I bought it a few weeks ago. I thought that you might be interested in it.”

Noah swallows, then nods. “I think—I think I’d like to wear the smaller one.”

“You sure, sweetheart?”

He nods.

”Pull your shorts down for me?”

Noah does as you ask. He’s still soft, but his cock is beginning to slightly harden again. You’re so careful as you touch him, trying not to jostle him too much. You slip the little plastic ring over his shaft, and gently position it until it rests behind his balls.

“Does that feel okay, pup?”

“Yeah.” He sounds almost a little bit breathless. It’s clear that he’s not entirely unaffected by the idea.

You then attach the other part of the cage, sliding it over his cock. You hold the cage in place. 

“Does that feel comfortable? Can I lock it?”

The feeling of the cage is both familiar, and strange. Noah can tell that the cage is noticeably small and tighter—and it makes him feel so dizzy.

“Y—yes. Please.”

You don’t comment on how sweet and small his tone of voice is. 

You attach the lock to the cage, clicking it shut. Noah shivers once you let go of his caged cock.

“There we go. Good boy,” you coo. “Your little cock looks so pretty.”

Noah blushes so sweetly. It feels a little bit humiliating—and yet he loves everything about it. He can’t help but lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips.

You giggle. “I swear to god, I’m never unlocking you ever again.”

Noah only gives you a sly little smile in response. That’s hardly a punishment, in his eyes.

Taglist: @theservantbones @itsfarbettertolearn @pipidoll @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @concretejunglefm @oobleoob @english-fucker @ethelsbaby @sallyba3 @111amyyy @findinggodb3for3godfindsm3 @darksigns-exe @sleepycactus-omens @branika182 @nogoodsailors @bluehairpunklol @r3prise @mid-omens @meowkittywhiskers @badlandsomens

kill me now

service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah service top Noah

・┈・୨୧・┈・

You didn’t really know what to expect after agreeing to this kind of relationship, but things were still normal. If anything, life seemed more peaceful. There weren’t pages of rules suddenly handed over to you or expectations to suddenly be obedient to him. Instead, it was just little things. 

When work really overwhelmed you again on Wednesday, you didn’t spend the drive home pretending to be fine. You climbed into Noah’s car, shut the door and before he could even ask, you let out a long, tired sigh. 

“Today was awful.” You told him, and he simply reached over and took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He frowned, and simply just getting that off your chest already made you feel better. 

When you got back, Noah sent you upstairs to shower and change into something comfy before dinner, and when you came back down the stairs he called you into the kitchen. 

“...Come here.” He said, holding his arms open for you. 

You crossed the room and let him pull you against his chest. He held you for a long moment, his hand gently rubbing against your back. 

“Wanna tell me about it?”

So you did, you told him all about the espresso machine breaking, and how all the oat milk had gone off, and how you had to go into the bathroom and cry for fifteen minutes. 

He had a great solution to it. He told you that after dinner he would make you both a hot chocolate, you’d go up to bed and put on a movie or TV show and cuddle. If you wanted him to use his fingers or his mouth to switch your mind off before going to sleep then he would… but an hour into the movie, he looked down at you cuddled up to his chest, and you were already softly snoring. 

On Thursday, he came to visit you at work, which was a surprise. He didn’t tell you he was planning on coming in, but you smiled the second you saw him hold the door open for an elderly lady before stepping in. 

He was dressed casually today, wearing a pair of black joggers and a navy hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. The moment his eyes found yours, a little smile appeared on his lips. Not enough that anyone else would notice, it was just for you. 

“Well,” Tom smirked, leaning against the counter, “You didn’t tell me Mr Millionaire was coming in- ow!” 

You elbowed him, telling him to behave. He shook his head, but grinned to himself as he wandered away to wipe down one of the tables. 

You were still serving another customer, so while you made their cappuccino, you wondered how you were supposed to act? Do you treat Noah like he’s just another customer, or like he was Noah?...

Your Noah. 

You mentally winced at yourself, don’t start thinking like that. 

But then you handed the drink over, the customer paid, and Noah stepped up to the counter next, resting his forearm against it. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” You replied, trying to stop the shy little smile spreading across your face- though he noticed it anyway. 

“So…” He began softly, and your eyes widened a little as you waited for him to continue, “You gonna ask what I want?”

You chuckled, feeling your cheeks start to heat up. 

“I already know what you want.” You smiled. 

“Good girl.” He said casually as he reached for his wallet, making you feel a little dizzy. You reached for a cup, trying not to let it show how it affected you. 

“Anything else?”

“Hm…” He pretended to think, “Well, I hear the barista’s pretty cute.” 

Your heart fluttered for a second, but you tried to shake it off. 

“So what brings you here?” You asked as you began grinding coffee beans. 

“I was nearby.” He shrugged. 

“No you weren’t.” You smirked. 

“Fine…” he sighed, “The coffee's better here than the cafe by my place.” 

“Oh yeah? Is that all?"

“Mm, and I wanted to see you.” 

Your hands stopped just for a second, before continuing. 

“I’m heading to Davis’s after this, we’ve got to sort some stuff before tour, since it’s only a couple weeks away.” 

You nodded your head. 

“You not getting him a drink?”

Noah scoffed. 

“He still owes me for lunch a couple days ago. If he wants coffee he can get one himself.” 

You smiled to yourself, and began to work the espresso machine. Noah watched you, it really fascinated him, the way you knew exactly what to do, how you remembered regulars’ orders and gave all your customers that little smile, even on days where you felt like shit. 

“You’re good at this.” Noah said, while you were staring into the distance waiting for the espresso machine. 

“Hm?” You glanced over at him. 

“You’re good at your job.” 

You smiled. 

“Thank you.”

Then, the elderly lady he’d held the door open for shuffled over beside him. 

“Oh!” She smiled at you, “Is this your boyfriend, darling?”

Your eyes widened. 

“Uh…” 

Before you could answer, Noah spoke. 

“Not yet.” He smirked, “I’ve still got a lot to prove.” 

The woman laughed. 

“Well, I’d say you’re doing rather well, dear.” 

You felt your face burn again, while Noah stood there looking rather pleased with himself. 

“I’ll take that.” He smiled

The lady picked up an extra sugar for her coffee with a cheerful smile before wandering away, and you looked back up at Noah. 

“You enjoyed that.” 

“Maybe a little.” He smirked, then you slid his coffee across the counter. 

“Here.” 

He took it with a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

Your stomach flipped, and you almost forgot what you were typing into the machine. 

“Noah, I’m at work!” You hissed under your breath. 

“What’s the issue?” He asked, looking entirely innocent, “You’re my baby everywhere.” 

“I’m trying to be professional.” You said, trying not to smile as you looked up at him over the counter. “Your total’s 4.60.”

“I thought you were going to give me employee discount.” He smirked. 

“You don’t work here.” 

“I could.” 

“You’d last about ten minutes.” You scoffed, making him chuckle as he tapped his card against the reader. 

The machine beeped, and a big approved appeared on the screen. Then when the tip option appeared, you didn’t think anything of it. You assumed he wouldn’t tip above the minimum, now you’re living in his house rent free, now he’s flown you to Paris and bought you countless amounts of things. 

“You don’t have to tip me, Noah.” 

“I know.” He said simply, before tapping the ‘custom amount’ option. 

You didn’t look. You turned around with a huff, and before you knew it, the machine beeped again. 

Tip: $100

“Noah!” You hissed. 

“What?” He smirked, “You look pretty when you’re working.” He said as he picked his cup back up, “Have a good day, sweetheart. See you at six.” 

And before you could even come up with an argument for that, he turned around and left. 

…

By the time Friday evening rolled around, you already noticed a change in yourself. You felt lighter than you had in months, so clearly Noah’s plan had worked, and this was helping. 

Noah had been working in the studio, though he told you he'd stop at 9 so you could both cuddle in bed and put something on the TV.

“Baby?”

You looked up from where you’d stolen his corner of the sofa, not expecting to see him for another hour.

“Hm?” You hummed. 

“Tommorow morning,” he leaned against the doorway, reminding you just how fucking tall he was, “I need you to pack an overnight bag.” 

“What for?” You asked. 

“Well, you got through the week, didn’t you? I said I had a surprise…” He smirked, “We’re staying in a hotel for the night, and make sure you pack something you’d wear to a concert.” 

“A concert?” Your curiosity peaked. 

He just smiled, and slowly shook his head. 

“I’ve already said too much.” 

“Noah-” 

“We’re leaving just after lunch. And no, I’m not telling you where we’re going… just trust me. You’re gonna love it.” 

He seemed pleased with himself as he pushed himself off the doorway and headed into the kitchen, grabbing a drink before disappearing back into the studio. You heard the door click shut, and a cheeky smile spread across your face. 

You had an idea… 

After a few minutes, Noah was back at his desk, headphones around his neck as he tapped away on his keyboard. He barely had time to look up before you wandered into the room. 

“...Hi.” 

He smiled, looking up at you. 

“Hi.” 

Without saying a word, you walked over and carefully settled yourself in his lap, looking down at him with your most innocent smile. His hands found your waist, and he looked up at you, a little taken back by your sudden confidence. 

“Well,” he smiled, “This is nice.” 

You tried not to giggle, and instead combed your fingers through his soft hair. 

“I need something.” 

“I gathered.” He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs a little more so you were more comfortable as his thumbs brushed over your hips, “What can I do for you?”

You rested your hands on his shoulders, tilting your head sweetly as you asked,

“Can I borrow your credit card?”

His eyes widened. 

“...My credit card?”

You nodded your head, and he just looked at you for a moment, almost like he couldn’t believe what you had just said. 

“You know, we’ve been doing this for so long…” a lazy grin spread across his face, “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard those words come out of your mouth once.” 

You chuckled, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger.

“Well, I was thinking about going shopping tomorrow morning, before we leave. Y’know, get a new outfit for the mystery concert…”

“Of course, baby. What time should we go?”

You shook your head. 

“Nuh-uh, you’re staying here.” You smirked, poking his chest. “I wanna surprise you with something.” 

He studied your face for a second. 

“Should I be worried?”

“No.” You bit back a smile. 

“Should my bank account be worried?”

“...Maybe a little.” You smirked, and he chuckled. 

“You’ve become suspiciously comfortable spending my money all of a sudden. You argued with me for twenty minutes in Paris when I wanted you to buy those diamond earrings.” 

You shrugged, trying to look casual. 

“You told me to stop feeling guilty” 

“I did.”

“So…” You smiled sweetly. “…I thought I’d be a good girl and listen.”

“…You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” He smirked, his hands rubbing your hips.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” He smiled, but still reached into his pocket for his wallet, before sliding the black card between your fingers. “There’s one condition.”

You looked up expectantly.

“I want you to spoil yourself. There’s no limit on that card, so I don’t want you buying cheaper versions of things or knock offs. I want my girl to have the best, and nothing less.”

“Yes sir.” You giggled.

He leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“I trust you.”

You smiled to yourself as you tucked the card safely into your pocket. If only he knew exactly where you were planning to take it… 

… 

The next morning, Noah let you take his car to go shopping. He had a few things he had to do at home, so he didn’t mind staying behind. He kissed you goodbye at the door and told you to take your time and buy whatever you wanted.

But he had no idea where you were about to step into...

You’d never been to a physical sex shop before. You’d bought a vibrator online a couple of years ago, and it had been fine- discreet packaging, no awkward eye contact. But this time, you had to go into the store.

You wanted to surprise Noah with something new, something you could both enjoy. He’d mentioned wanting to try toys with you, and the thought had been living in your head ever since.

You felt more excited than nervous when you pulled into the parking lot, but then you walked through the door...

The shop was bigger and brighter than you expected. The hot pink walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of toys in every possible shape, color, and size. Your eyes widened as you took it all in.

To your left was a whole wall of dildos- realistic ones with veins and balls, vibrating ones, thrusting ones, even double-ended ones. Some were monstrously large, others curved in ways that made you blush just by looking at them. Next to them were displays of butt plugs in every size, some made of metal, some of silicone, some with pretty sparkly jeweled bases. 

Further down the aisle were vibrators- wands, bullets, rabbits, suction toys that promised to “make you squirt”, though you scoffed at the thought of it, thinking yeah right. There were even fucking machines on display in the back corner, intimidating metal contraptions with attachments that scared you a little, making you swallow hard as you looked away.

The lingerie section was just as overwhelming- tiny lace sets that barely covered anything, latex sets that covered everything, crotchless panties, babydolls, leather harnesses, and bodysuits with cutouts.

You felt your cheeks burning hotter with every step. A couple browsed the BDSM section nearby- nipple clamps, paddles, ropes, blindfolds, and something called a “spreader bar” that made your stomach flip. Everything felt so… explicit. So shameless. You weren’t even sure just what type of toys Noah would want… or where to even start. 

You stood frozen in the middle of the vibrator aisle, clutching the strap of your handbag over your shoulder. A woman walked past you holding a box with a massive purple dildo on it and a big bottle of lube like it was no big deal. You suddenly felt so out of place... so innocent.

God, I wish Noah was here, you thought, your cheeks burning. He would’ve known exactly what to pick. He would’ve stood behind you, whispering in your ear which toys he wanted to use on you, teasing you about how wet you were getting just by looking at them.

Instead, you were alone, flustered, and trying not to stare too long at a suction toy that promised “intense clitoral orgasms.”

You swallowed hard and forced yourself to pick up the safest option to start with- a simple wand vibrator. The same kind you’d seen before in porn, and much bigger than the bullet you owned a couple years ago. You could already imagine Noah holding it against your clit while he fucked you, and your thighs pressed together in the middle of the store.

You quickly grabbed it and headed toward the register before you could overthink it any more, your face burning the entire way.

… 

By the time you finally got home, pulling onto Noah’s driveway, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy over what was sitting in the black bag in the passenger seat. Before getting out of the car, you tucked the bag into your handbag so nothing looked suspicious… then you made your way inside. 

“Noah?”

“I’m upstairs, baby!”

You slipped off your shoes, carefully hung your jacket up with his, and headed upstairs. His bedroom door was already open, and as you stepped inside, you found him kneeling on the floor with a suitcase lying open on the bed. Clothes were folded into neat piles, there were a couple pairs of trousers, t-shirts, his toiletries bag…

“You’ve started packing without me.” You frowned.

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling.

“I got bored waiting.”

“I’ve only been twenty minutes!” You chuckled. 

“Mm, it was a very long twenty minutes.”

You laughed, walking over before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He hummed happily at the affection before pulling one of his drawers open. Inside, were neatly folded up pairs of black, grey and white Calvin Kleins. He took a couple pairs… but then something caught your eye. 

Tucked towards the back of the drawer, was black fabric, but this didn’t look like another pair of underwear. You screwed your face up, tilting your head. 

“…What’s that?”

Noah paused.

“What?”

You pointed into the drawer.

“Behind your boxers.”

He followed your finger, then smiled to himself. 

“Oh… that.”

He reached in and pulled it out, and you watched it unfold into a black ski mask. 

“Noah..?” You chuckled, in disbelief, “Why do you have a mask in your underwear drawer?”

He laughed, smiling at it fondly. 

“It’s not for robbing banks.”

“Well, that would explain a lot.” 

He shook his head, still smiling.

“It’s one of my old stage masks.”

You stared at it.

“…Your what?”

“Mhm.” He turned it over in his hands. “I used to wear it on stage a couple years ago.”

“No…” You looked between the mask and him. “…You did?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He laughed.

“I just thought it looked cool.”

You reached out.

“…Can I?”

He handed it over without hesitation, and the first thing you noticed was how the fabric was incredibly soft. You noticed it said BAD OMENS around the neck, and you tried to imagine him wearing it on stage… 

“I don’t think I can picture it.” You said, looking up at him. 

“Wait a sec.” He grabbed his phone from the bed. “I’ll show you.”

A few taps later, he was scrolling through his band's instagram account, and after a moment, he turned the screen towards you. 

“There.”

Your eyes widened.

“…Holy shit.”

It was him… standing under bright stage lights, dressed in all black, with the mask covering his face. You could tell it was him because of the tattoos, and the black tank top. But he didn’t look like your Noah...

You looked at the photo, then back at the man kneeling comfortably on the bedroom floor in a faded old t-shirt, carefully folding up his underwear to pack in his suitcase.

“I can’t believe that’s you.”

He smiled.

“I’ve changed a bit.”

“A bit?” You looked at the photo again. “This is just crazy.” 

Noah chuckled, then you handed the mask back over to him. 

“So…” You said, drawing out the word as a smirk spread across your face. Noah immediately recognised that look, and he rasied an eyebrow.

“What?”

You tried your hardest to keep a straight face.

“Have you ever worn it in the bedroom?”

He looked a bit taken back. 

“Excuse me?”

“The mask...”

He laughed, shaking his head, almost looking a little shy.

“…No.”

“No?” You looked back down at it in his hands with disappointment. “…Wow. What a waste.”

“A waste?” He laughed, “Baby, I spent years wearing that thing on stage.”

“And apparently nowhere else.” 

He shook his head, still chuckling. Then you glanced up through your lashes.

“But would you…?”

He paused.

“…Would I what?”

“Wear it in the bedroom?”

His eyebrows lifted, and for a moment he was quiet. Then he leaned back on one hand, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Maybe…” He nodded, “It just depends.” 

“On what?”

His smile turned teasing.

“…Who’s asking.”

Heat rushed straight to your cheeks.

“You know who’s asking.”

“No I don’t.” He teased. 

“There’s only one other person in this room.”

“Hm.” He pretended to think about it. “You want me to wear this in bed?”

A smirk spread across your face.

“...Maybe.” 

He held your gaze for a moment before his expression softened.

“Huh. Good to know.” He nodded casually, before turning back to packing. Then he added, “You’ve become awfully confident this week.”

“Have I?”

“Mhm.” He smiled, “The woman who used to refuse to spend my money went shopping with my credit card this morning, and now-”

“Do you wanna know what I bought?” You grinned, interrupting him, and his face softened again. 

“I thought it was a surprise?”

You shrugged. 

“I’m awful at surprises,” you said as you sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for your bag. “Here.” 

You handed the black plastic bag over to him, and he curiously took a peek inside. 

“Oh, baby… what do we have here?” 

Noah reached into the bag and pulled out the box. When he saw the picture on the box, and realised there was a wand vibrator inside, his eyebrows rose slightly and a warm, delighted smile spread across his face.

“Wow…” he said softly, turning the box over in his hands. “You really went out and bought this?”

You nodded, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“I remembered you said that toys were something you’d like to try with me,” you said quietly. “So… I thought we could take this to the hotel tonight.”

Noah’s expression softened even more. He set the box aside and gently pulled you down into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“You went into a sex shop by yourself,” he smirked, sounding both impressed and incredibly fond. “My sweet girl did that for me?”

He kissed your forehead, and you couldn't help but giggle.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with this tonight, princess,” he said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I can already picture how pretty you’re going to look when I use it on you.”

You smiled, feeling heat rush between your thighs- then suddenly, you pushed yourself up off of him. 

“I guess I better start packing then.” You smiled, and Noah nodded. 

“I don’t know how much you plan on taking,” Noah began, “But there’s still plenty of room in my bag.” He nodded towards the suitcase on the bed. 

“Thanks,” you said, looking down at him, then your smile became a little sheepish. “…Would you help me?”

Noah looked up at you.

“Help you pack?”

You nodded.

“If… that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” He said soflty.

You rubbed your hands together nervously.

“Thanks. I know it probably sounds silly...”

“It doesn’t.” He shook his head, suddenly sensing the shift in your mood and body language, “Talk to me, baby. I can tell something’s bothering you.”

You let out a small sigh before sitting back down beside him on the edge of the bed.

“I always get stressed packing, it doesn’t matter if I’m going somewhere for one night or one month, I always get so overwhelmed.” You admitted. “I worry I’ve forgotten something important… then I pack extras just in case… then I convince myself I’ve packed too much…” You laughed quietly at yourself. “Then I end up unpacking everything and starting again.”

“How many times?” He asked. 

“…Usually three or four.”

He smiled sympathetically.

“I wondered why it took you so long to pack for Paris.”

“You noticed?”

“I notice everything.”

Your cheeks warmed.

“I just…” You looked down at your hands, feeling slightly nervous. “I thought…”

He waited patiently.

“I thought maybe…” You smiled shyly. “Since we’re doing this now…”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Could this be something you take care of for me?”

The smile that spread across his face was ever so gentle.

“Sweetheart.” He reached over, taking one of your hands in both of his. “Of course. I’d love to.”

You felt yourself relax before he’d even done anything.

“You would?”

“Mhm.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you for telling me how it makes you feel.”

Your shoulders seemed to drop all by themselves, feeling the anxiety slowly melting away. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” He said, his voice calm but still certain. Making you feel like he knows what he’s doing, everything's under control. “I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

You nodded.

“What are we doing tonight?”

“We’re going to a concert.”

“And tomorrow?”

“I think we’re coming home?”

“Yes,” he nodded with a little smile, “So that means one night away.”

You nodded again.

“That means we don’t need to prepare for every possible situation, do we, baby?”

You laughed, watching him rise to his feet. 

“…I do tend to do that.” You confessed. 

“I guessed.” He smirked, leading you into the guest room, where you kept everything you salvaged from your apartment. He reached for your suitcase from the closet- one that he bought you in Paris because the one you brought was overfilled- and he lied it down open on the bed. 

“I’ll tell you what to pack. If you think of anything else, then tell me. If you panic or can’t decide whether you need something or not, I’ll make the choice for you.” He smiled, “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, chuckling quietly, “You make it sound so simple.” 

“That’s because it is.” He smiled. “And once I’ve zipped this suitcase up,” he looked into your eyes. “…We’re done. No checking or unpacking. If you suddenly think of something when we’re in the car, then we can stop off somewhere and buy it.”

“…Really?”

He nodded, reaching for your hand.

“I promise you, sweetheart.” His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles. “One forgotten toothbrush has never ruined a weekend.”

He then dropped your hand and gently tapped the suitcase.

“So it seems my first official job as your dom,” he looked at you with a playful smile, “Is packing this bag. And your first job as my submissive is to trust me when I say we’ve got everything we need.”

For a moment, you simply looked at him. Then you nodded your head.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” You smiled.

He leaned over and kissed your forehead.

“Good girl.”

Those words made your heart feel warm, and Noah smiled to himself before setting his hands on his hips. 

“Right then, let’s start packing.” He pointed towards the wardrobe, “Concert outfit first.”

You turned towards the wardrobe, searching through your clothes.

“I don’t really know what to wear.” 

“That’s okay.” He walked over beside you, “What are your options?”

You reached for a couple of hangers.

“I was thinking maybe this?” You held up a black dress. “But then I thought maybe jeans with a nice top would be better… remember that top you bought me in Paris? The leather one that laces up in the front?”

You were already reaching for the top.

“But maybe it’s too much…”

“Sweetheart.”

You stopped talking, and he gave you a gentle smile. 

“Remember your job.”

“…Trust you.” You nodded. 

“Good.” He looked at the clothes in your hands before taking the black top from you. “I think you should wear this.”

“Yeah?” 

He nodded his head. 

“This and those jeans you like, the comfy ones. I think that’d be pretty.” 

You smiled to yourself. 

“Yeah? I was thinking about that, but I don’t know if it’d be appropriate, I don’t know what kinda concert-”

“Trust me, baby. It’ll be perfect.” 

You nodded your head, and he neatly started to pack them. 

“There… now, pyjamas.” 

You nodded and reached for a comfy oversized tshirt, and a pair of shorts.

“And underwear!” You noted, before opening the drawers while Noah politely turned his attention to the suitcase instead.

“How many?” You called over your shoulder.

“How many nights are we staying?”

“One.”

“So?”

“…Two pairs?” You asked.

He smiled.

“Perfect.”

You grabbed two before pausing.

“…Or maybe three.”

He looked over.

“Why three?”

“Just in case.”

“What emergency requires a third pair of underwear?”

“You never know what might happen, Noah!” You chuckled, reaching for a third pair, then a couple pairs of socks, then handed it all over to him to pack. 

He folded everything with such care, then looked up at you again.

“Toiletries next. Toothbrush, hairbrush, perfume, deodorant… what else? Skincare?”

You collected all those things, putting them into a wash bag before handing them over. 

“Hair tools? Make-up?” He asked.

You looked at your overflowing make-up bag.

“…Do I need all of this?”

He peered inside.

“I’m not qualified to answer that.”

“I’ll bring it all, just in case.” You chuckled.

When the toiletries were packed, he zipped the little wash bag shut before placing it neatly beside your clothes, then he looked around the room.

“Anything else?”

You instinctively began scanning every shelf, every drawer, every possible thing you might have forgotten. Then your brain started doing exactly what it always did.

What about…? Did I…? Should I…?

Noah noticed your eyes darting around, and his brows furrowed. 

“Hey.” Your attention returned to him. “What are you doing?”

“…Just checking.”

“For?”

“I don’t know.” You let out a tiny laugh, before quietly confessing, “My brain’s doing the thing...”

“I can tell.” He stepped closer until he was standing in front of you. “Look at me.”

You did.

“You’ve got your outfit, your toiletries. You’ve got your phone.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ve got chargers in my bag.”

“…Okay.”

Your shoulders relaxed.

“We’re staying one night. And if we somehow discover we’ve forgotten something… then we’ll just buy it.” Then, without another word, he reached down, and zipped the suitcase closed. “There.”

You stared at it.

It was done. Normally, this was the moment you’d immediately unzip it again. Check every pocket, count your socks. Wonder if you needed another hoodie. Instead, you looked at Noah.

“That’s it?” You asked. 

He smiled.

“Yep.”

You took a slow breath in.

“…Okay.” A smile of pure relief spread across your face. “I’ve never packed for a trip without feeling stressed before.”

Noah walked over, cupped your face in both hands and kissed your forehead.

“That’s because this time, you didn’t have to do it by yourself.”

…

The drive passed far quicker than either of you expected it to, though neither of you complained. You stopped asking where he was taking you two hours in, and just decided to relax. He let you play your music as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel while the other reached over to rest on your thigh.

Every now and then you’d pass a sign, and you’d immediately start trying to guess the destination in your mind again… trying to figure out what concert was being held nearby… 

But before you knew it, a couple of hours later, Noah pulled into the underground car park of a beautiful hotel in the middle of the city. He parked up, then got out to open the passenger door. 

You climbed out and offered to take your suitcase from him, but he shook his head, insisting on taking the bags up to the entrance. 

And wow… it wasn’t as fancy as Paris, but it was still so elegant.

“This is…” You couldn’t put it into words. 

“Nice?”

“A little bit nicer than nice.” You chuckled. 

“I hoped you’d like it.” He grinned, "I've stayed here a couple times before."

Inside, the lobby was beautiful. There were marble floors that reflected the warm light from big chandeliers overhead, fresh flowers decorated almost every table, and the entire place smelled like fresh linen and a touch of something floral... probably from the flowers.

The receptionist greeted you both warmly as you checked in, before handing Noah the room key. Then, as you stepped into the elevator, you found yourself leaning lightly against his shoulder.

“Tired?”

“A little. I think it’s from the drive.”

“Being a passenger princess is hard work,” Noah teased, “We’ve got plenty of time before we leave tonight if you want a nap.”

“I might.” You said, then he kissed the top of your head.

"C'mon then."

The room was even more beautiful than the lobby. The big windows overlooked the city, and a king sized bed sat in the centre of the room, with the most comfy looking white bedding.

There was a little seating area by the window with a small table, on which sat some fresh flowers. Beside the seats was the door to the balcony. 

“…This is  amazing!”

Noah set both suitcases down at the bottom of the bed. 

“It’s alright.”

“‘Alright?’” Your eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

He shrugged innocently.

“I’ve stayed in worse.” He smirked. 

You laughed.

“You’re so spoiled, Noah.”

“Hey, I tour for a living.” He chuckled, before straightening up, “Still wanna have a nap, baby?”

You thought for a moment, before shaking your head. 

“I think I’m okay. I know it’s still pretty early… but I’m so excited, I just want to get ready now.” 

He smiled.

“That’s okay,” he nodded towards the bathroom. “Want to shower first?”

You looked towards the enormous bathroom before looking back at him, a little smirk on your lips.

“…Together?”

His lips curved into a soft smile.

“If you’d like.”

“Oh, I’d like.” You grinned. 

…

You spent most of the shower simply talking, laughing, washing each other with gentle hands. 

There wasn’t anything sexual about it, not even when he ran his soapy hands over your breasts and down to your ass. You melted into his touch, and he did the same when your fingers worked the shampoo into his hair. 

Noah stepped out first, wrapping a towel around his hips before handing one to you. After you stepped out, you stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes. Noah took another soft towel and gently started to dry your hair, then you took it from him, and made him bend down as you ruffled the towel against his hair, making it fall all over the place.

Afterwards, Noah disappeared back into the bedroom, tugging a clean black tshirt over his head while you reached into the closet for the fluffy white robe. You decided it wouldn’t make sense to get dressed yet, since there were still a few hours before you had to leave. 

So instead, you dug through your suitcase for your makeup bag and hair dryer, since you always preferred your own. Then, all of a sudden you heard the sound of a phone buzzing. You instinctively looked over to check if it was yours, but it wasn’t. It was Noah’s. 

“Huh.” He said as he looked at the screen. 

“What?”

“I just need to take this.”

“Everything okay?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, answering it before opening the balcony door. “Hey...”

The door slid shut behind him, muting most of the conversation. You tried not to listen in, you tried to concentrate on your makeup… but you could still make out some of what was being said.

“…Yeah…”

It’s not like you were trying to listen. 

“…Tell Oli I said thanks for sorting me out tonight.”

Your hand froze halfway to your eyelashes.

Oli?

There couldn’t be that many Olis Noah knew. So you tried to ignore it. 

“…It’s not even really for me…”

Your curiosity won, and you looked towards the balcony door.

“No… it’s for someone special.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your tummy fluttering at his words. Someone special? You? A hundred different possibilities raced through your head, Oli, concert, someone special…

You slowly lowered the mascara wand onto the dressing table. There was only one Oli you could think of- and only one concert you had mentioned to Noah… and it suddenly started to make sense. 

He was taking you to see them now, because he’d be away on tour when Bring Me were playing in your city. Your heart sank a little at the thought of Noah having to leave in a couple weeks- but you couldn’t linger on it too long, as he continued talking outside.

“…Yeah, she still has no idea.”

A grin spread across your face before you could stop it. He was definitely talking about you.

“…I owe you one, man.” He paused, then let out a laugh, “Yeah… okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”

The call ended, and your eyes widened. See you… in a bit?

Your brain immediately started putting pieces together, and your stomach fluttered.

There was absolutely no way…

You hurriedly picked your mascara back up, trying to look as though you’d never stopped getting ready, and a second later, the balcony door slid open. Noah stepped back inside, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Everything alright?” he asked casually.

You looked at him through the mirror.

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” You popped the p. 

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

“…You’re smiling.”

“I’m always smiling!”

He folded his arms, a suspicious smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“…How much of that did you hear?”

You widened your eyes innocently.

“Nothing!”

“Uh huh.” He nodded his head slowly, like he didn’t believe you. 

“I was doing my makeup.”

“Were you now?”

“I was.”

He took a slow step closer.

“So you definitely didn’t hear any of that?”

“Well, I might’ve heard… a name.”

“And?”

“And…” You smiled sweetly. “…I still have no idea where we’re going.”

That wasn’t entirely true anymore, you weren’t completely certain, but you had a feeling that Noah’s surprise was about to rock your world. (*get it? bmth reference? heh)

…

“You ready?” Noah glanced over as you slid your rings onto your fingers.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time.

Your black jeans fit you perfectly, your chunky boots peeking out just enough at the bottom. The leather lace up top you’d picked with Noah earlier sat perfectly, showing just enough skin to make you feel confident and sexy without feeling too exposed. Necklaces were layered around your neck, rings decorated almost every finger, and your hair fell exactly how you’d hoped after spending nearly an hour styling it.

You actually felt cool, and very pretty. 

Noah looked stupidly hot as always. In all black, as always. He wore his black jeans with the cut outs, that made you bite your lip wherever he turned around and wonder what’s he doing with all that ass? He wore his black boots too, with his fitted black tshirt beneath a lightweight jacket.

Then, as you stepped towards the door, he reached for his favourite sunglasses, putting them on despite the evening sun beginning to set, followed by a black baseball cap that hid most of his hair.

Once he was ready, he reached over, taking your hand.

“C’mon. The cabs waiting for us.” 

It was only a short drive to the venue from the hotel. You were going to argue, and tell Noah you could’ve just walked… but you weren’t sure just how easily recognisable he’d be to the fans if you were going to see a band he has toured with in the past. 

So instead, you sat tucked against his side in the back seat while city passed by the window. And when you looked outside, you noticed the streets were getting busier. There were groups of people dressed in black band shirts, all walking in the same direction.

Your heart began beating a little faster, and when you looked back at Noah, you could tell he was trying very hard not to smile.

The taxi finally stopped outside a huge arena, and you climbed out first, completely astounded by just how many people were lined up outside. Instead of joining the enormous queue, though, Noah gently placed a hand on the small of your back, and kept his head down as he led you away. 

“This way.”

You frowned.

“But the entrance is over there.” You pointed. 

“Not ours.”

“What do you mean?”

He simply smiled.

“C’mon. You'll see.”

He led you around the side of the building, where there were no crowds, and it seemed strangely quiet. A large metal security gate stood ahead, and before you even reached it, one of the security guards smiled.

“Hey, Noah! Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

“Hey, man.” Noah nodded, taking his sunglasses off.

The guard unclipped the barrier to let you through.

“Good to see you again.”

“You too.”

He knew the security? Shit, were you still underestimating this guy?

You followed Noah through the gate, trying not to look completely bewildered, but then another member of staff approached almost immediately.

“Oh, yhere you are.” She smiled. “Thought you’d be here a little earlier.”

“We got a little held up.” Noah explained.

“No worries.” The staff member looked towards you and smiled. “You must be Noah’s plus one.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“…Uh…”

Before you could answer, Noah smiled and nodded his head.

“She is.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

She handed Noah two laminated passes attached to black lanyards. He slipped one over his own head before turning towards you.

“Head down for me.”

You obeyed, and he carefully lifted your hair out of the way before placing the pass around your neck. His fingers brushed lightly against the back of your neck as he adjusted it, making you shiver.

“There.”

You looked down, and were met with the bold letters reading, ALL ACCESS and your eyes widened.

“Noah?”

He just smiled.

“What?”

“I…” You looked back at the pass. “…All access?”

“Yep.”

Your heart started racing again, but he took your hand, and started to lead you as if he knew this place like the back of his hand. 

“This way.”

The two of you walked through another set of doors, then another. The corridors felt endless, people hurried past carrying guitars, lighting equipment and flight cases. Someone walked by wearing a headset, speaking into a radio, and another person nodded at Noah as they passed.

“Hey, man.”

“Hey.”

It felt busy, but rather organised. You even found yourself moving a little closer to Noah as everything rushed around you. 

“Nervous?” He asked softly, his hand coming around to rest on your hip. 

“A little.”

He smiled reassuringly.

“I’ve got you.”

You nodded.

“I know.”

He gave your hip a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m just wondering… I was gonna go find some of the guys, just to say hi, see how things are going. You can come with me if you want, I don’t mind at all, or if you’d rather we just go find our seats-“

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Not knowing how to say it without sounding ungrateful. 

“Can I be honest?”

He smiled immediately.

“I’d rather you always were.”

You laughed quietly, looking down at the floor.

“I'm just starting to feel a little anxious.”

His expression softened.

“Too many people?”

“A little. It’s just a lot… and,” You rubbed your thumb against your lanyard. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“You won’t.”

“What if I do?”

He tilted his head.

“What are you imagining?”

You let out an embarrassed laugh.

“I don’t know… saying something stupid. Tripping over. Passing out.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t think you’re going to pass out.”

“You don’t know that! I’ve never met people like this before!”

He raised an eyebrow.

“People like what?” He asked. 

“You know…” You waved your hands, trying to find the right word. “Rockstars?”

His eyebrows lifted.

“…Baby.” He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“What?”

“You live with one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re different.” You smirked.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

You thought about it for a second.

“I forget you’re famous.” You said, and he smiled to himself. “I just see… Noah.”

For a moment, he looked strangely touched by that. Then you sighed.

“And besides, I know Motionless are opening tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always had a tiny crush on Ricky.” You confessed with another gentle sigh. 

Noah slowly turned his head towards you, staying completely silent for a moment before asking,

“Ricky?”

You nodded innocently.

“The guitar player?” He asked.

“That’s the one.”

He stared at you for another second before letting out the most dramatic sigh imaginable.

“I bring you backstage, I organise this big surprise…” He placed a hand over his heart. “…And you’re thinking about another man?!”

“I’m not thinking about another man! I said I used to have a little crush.”

“Oh.” He nodded gravely. “That’s much better.”

“It was years ago! I haven’t even listened to them since… pfft, 2018?”

He looked unconvinced.

“I don’t know…”

You nudged his arm.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m devastated, baby." He frowned dramatically, pulling you in closer to him until you were chest to chest. 

The teasing eased the heaviness that had settled on your chest, and you felt yourself breathe a little easier- which Noah clearly noticed. 

“Better?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Good.” He nodded down the corridor. “C’mon, let’s go find our seats.”

You took a couple of steps before stopping.

“Actually...”

He turned back.

“What?”

“If you want to go and say hi to everyone… I don’t want you feeling like you can’t just because of me.”

“I wouldn’t.” He insisted

“I know.” You smiled. “But you’ve got friends here. People you probably haven’t seen in months or years.”

He looked at you carefully.

“Then what would you do?” He asked.

“I could just…” You shrugged. “…Wait in the seats?”

His eyebrows drew together.

“By yourself?”

“I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

You nodded.

“I don’t know anyone here, not personally.” You laughed quietly. “And I'd feel a bit awkward just… standing beside you while everyone catches up. I’d feel like I’m in the way.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he stepped closer, frowning. 

“You’d never be in the way, baby. They’d all be happy to meet you.”

“I know.” You shook your head. 

“But?” He raised an eyebrow, and you let out a long sigh.

“I think I’d be more comfortable if you just… got to be Noah for a little bit without me. Go be a guy with the rest of the guys!”

He looked at you with a softness that almost made your heart ache.

“I appreciate you thinking about that.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “But I’m not leaving you on your own”

His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you shook your head. 

”You’re not.” You said, “You don’t have to babysit me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you doing?”

He smiled, then nodded as if to say okay…

“I’m taking my girl to her seat,” His hand found yours again. “Then, if you’re happy and settled with a drink and some snacks…” A playful smile tugged at his lips. “Then I’ll disappear for ten minutes, say hello to everyone, and come straight back.”

“…Ten minutes?” You smirked. 

“I promise.”

“You won’t get caught talking?”

“I probably will, but I’ll tell them someone’s waiting for me.”

Your stomach fluttered.

“Someone special?” You teased, remembering what you had heard over the phone. And he smiled without a hint of teasing this time.

“Exactly.” He kissed your forehead, “And if I see Ricky back there, I’m telling him-”

“No, Noah!” You laughed. “You’re not telling him anything!”

“What? He deserves to know that he missed his chance.” Noah grinned.

“Oh my god...” You shook your head. 

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself now. Then you let him lace his fingers through yours, and he led you further down another corridor then up some stairs, then down another corridor. You had no idea where you were being taken to, but eventually, you ran into another member of staff, who smiled the moment he recognised Noah.

“Evening, Noah.”

“Hey.”

The staff member scanned both of your passes before pushing the door open.

“Enjoy the show, man.”

“Thanks.”

You stepped through the door first, and immediately gasped.

“Wow…”

The room was beautiful. It wasn’t enormous, but there was plenty of space. In the middle of the room was a leather couch, and behind it was a table already laid out with drinks and bowls of snacks. Then you stepped over to the balcony, where there were seats that overlooked the stage. 

“Is this just for us?” You asked, and Noah nodded his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in how amazed you were at something that felt so simple to him. 

You held onto the railing as you looked over the balcony.

“No way...”

Thousands of people were slowly filling the arena below, and you couldn’t believe how close the stage was. 

“Noah,” You turned to him, your eyes wide. “This is incredible.”

“I thought you’d like it.” He said simply. 

“I thought we were gonna be somewhere at the back.”

He laughed.

“Not a chance… it's better here. Better view, better seats, more privacy.” 

You didn't know quite how to express your gratitude, besides a simple,

“Thank you.”

He shrugged almost bashfully.

“I wanted tonight to be special.”

“It already is…” You smiled softly... then you suddenly reached for your bag. “Oh! I should get a picture for Tom!” You grinned as you pulled your phone out of your bag. 

“Want me to get one of you?” He asked, and for a moment you thought about it… then you shook your head. 

“No.” You grinned, “You need to be in it too.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Me?”

You nodded your head. 

“Besides the dirty ones on your phone, I don't think we have any pictures together.”

He chuckled.

“Fair point.”

He wandered over, and crouched down a little as he stood beside you.

“Ready?”

“Yep.”

You lifted your phone again, stretching your arm out.

“Smile.”

“I am smiling.”

“You don’t look like it. Smile harder.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically before softening into a genuine smile.

“There… perfect!” 

You grinned at the screen, taking a couple pictures, and just as you went to press the button a third time, you felt soft lips press against your cheek.

You put your phone back downa nd instantly tapped on the photo, and felt your cheeks start to burn. It looked quite romantic, his lips on your skin, your smile, his eyes closed, the lights from the arena behind you. 

“Send those to me.” He said as he straightened up and gently tapped your hip. “We look cute.” 

You stared at it for another second.

“Yeah…” You smiled to yourself. “We do.”

You quickly sent the picture to Noah, deciding you won’t tell Tom until after it’s over. So you slipped your phone into your bag, and when you looked back up, Noah was already watching you with that soft look on his face. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm…” You narrowed your eyes, unconvinced. 

But he just smiled. 

“I was just wondering if you’re still okay with me disappearing for a few minutes.”

You looked around your little private box again- at the sofa, the drinks and snacks, the stage… and you smiled. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“You sure?”

You nodded your head, and he gently pulled you closer. 

“If at any point you want me back, just text me.”

“I will.” You smiled. 

“And if Ricky somehow finds his way up here, tell him to back off.”

You burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, Noah.”

“I need to cover all possibilities, baby.” He smirked, then leaned down and kissed your forehead, his arms wrapping around you. “I won’t be long.”

“I know.” 

He gave you one last squeeze before stepping back. 

“I’ll make sure I’m back before the lights go down.”

“That’s okay.”

He gave you one last smile, then he turned and disappeared through the door. Then after it clicked shut behind him, you were left alone in a private box in a huge arena…

You slowly turned back towards the stage, just trying to take it all in. The crowd was growing by the minute, the seats were starting to fill out, and the sound of chattering filled the silence Noah left behind. 

You smiled to yourself.

This was your life now.

A month ago, you were worrying your landlord was going to kick you out because you were behind on rent, you’d been counting tips at the end of every shift, wondering if you’d have enough left over after bills to treat yourself to takeout. And now, you were standing in a private suite at a sold out arena, with an all access pass, all because… you weren’t really sure. Was it because he liked the way you made his coffee, was it because he felt sorry for you… or was it deeper than that?

You shook your head, trying to shake the thought away, knowing Noah wouldn’t want you to think that. So instead, you put your bag down on the couch and picked up a water bottle, and waited for Noah to come back. 

…

The first opener was amazing, you had never heard of them before, but you were blown away. God, you’d forgotten how much you loved the feeling of being at a show. 

You found yourself nodding along, not knowing any of the words, your drink forgotten on the little table beside you as Noah silently watched you more than he watched the performance.

“You like them?”

“Yeah, they’re so good!”

“I thought you would.”

Between the songs he’d tell you little things about the bands, “They’re from Australia”, “They’ve been touring nonstop”, “I wrote with their guitarist a couple of years ago”, “I’m in a group chat with the vocalist…” 

You’d look at him in awe every single time.

“You just know everyone.”

He laughed.

“It’s a small world.”

Noah teased you relentlessly while Motionless were on the stage, every time Ricky did something he’d make a comment, “Hey, did you just see what your boyfriend did?”, “Isn’t your boyfriend such a great singer?”, “Fuck, I wish I was as talented as your boyfriend.” 

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow, or groaning dramatically. But he loved seeing you react, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

Then eventually, the giant backdrop changed, and it’s like the stage grew bigger. Crew members walked out with more equipment and started putting things into places. You leaned over the balcony railing, watching it all happen. 

Then, after a little while, the lights all went out again. The suspense made you giddy as you squeezed Noah’s hand. 

“Oh my god!!” You yelped, then music began playing, and after another moment… “There they are!” 

Noah looked over at you just in time to see the biggest grin spread across your face.

“Happy?”

“So happy!” You beamed. 

The entire show was just unbelievable, you didn’t have a better word for it. The lights and the visuals, the crowd singing along to every word. Even from your private balcony, you could feel the energy radiating off the audience below.

You were even dancing and singing along, which made Noah smirk. 

“I didn’t know you knew all the words.”

“I know enough.” You laughed. 

Then, a few songs later you found yourself leaning on the railing, watching the mosh pit.

“You know, I actually saw them once before.” You said as you sat back in your seat.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, a few years ago.” You said, then hesitated before adding, “With my ex.” 

Noah’s expression stayed calm.

“How was it?”

You snorted.

“Well, it was going really well…” He already knew from your tone that there was a story coming. “…Until he decided jumping into the mosh pit was a brilliant idea. He got into a fight, and came back with a bloody nose because apparently somebody shoved him.”

Noah stared at you for a moment before shaking his head.

“…Fucking idiot.”

You burst out laughing.

“I know! That’s what I said.” 

Noah just shook his head. 

“You go to a concert where everyone’s pushing each other… then gets angry because someone pushed him?”

“That’s just the kind of person he was.” You sighed. “I remember spending most of the night worrying about him.”

Noah looked at you for a second, then he gently brushed his fingers against yours.

“I’m glad tonight’s different.”

“So am I.” You smiled. 

Another song came to an end, and you caught Noah glancing towards the side of the stage, then checking the time on his phone. 

“…Hey.”

“Hm?” You looked up. 

“I’ve just got to disappear for a minute.”

You frowned.

“Now?”

“I’ll be right back.” He smiled reassuringly. “I promise.”

You looked at him curiously.

“…Is everything okay?” You asked. 

He just nodded your head and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah. Enjoy this one.”

Then without another word, he left again. You frowned when the door shut behind him. That was weird… 

Your mind immediately betrayed you. Was it because I mentioned my ex? Did I upset him? You shook your head. Don’t be ridiculous.

Still, you couldn’t help but glance towards the door every few moments. He’s taking his time, you thought. Another song finished and he still hadn’t returned. 

It’s probably nothing. He might’ve just got stopped by a fan, if anyone recognised him. But your attention was brought back to the stage again when Oli stepped up to the microphone. 

“Alright…” The crowd quietened. “We’ve got a little surprise tonight.”

The crowd wooo’d so loud before he even finished his sentence, and you grinned, wondering what it could be. 

Then your face dropped as a figure dressed entirely in black stepped out.

Your heart stopped, and the crowd screamed so loudly, but you couldn’t hear a thing. 

Because Noah just walked out on to the stage with a microphone in his hand. 

You stumbled as you rose to your feet to get a better view. Oli walked over with a huge grin, throwing an arm around Noah’s shoulders before saying something into the microphone that was lost beneath twenty thousand people screaming.

He hadn’t left because he was upset. He hadn’t left because of your ex. He’d left because he was about to walk onto one of the biggest stages in the country, and didn’t even think to let you know?!

You couldn’t stop smiling. He looked so fucking good out there, and he completely blew you away with his singing and screaming… he was really good. 

You didn’t feel like you were in your own body while he was performing, it all felt like a dream, until the door to the suite opened a couple of minutes later.

Noah stepped inside, slightly out of breath, a little flushed from the performance, his hair messier than before. He barely had time to smile.

“Hey, baby-”

You rushed across the room in three quick steps, and your hands caught either side of his face. Then you kissed him, hard. Full of adrenaline and excitement- you could still hear the crowd as he laughed softly into the kiss, one arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

When you finally pulled back, you were almost breathless. 

“That.” You pointed a finger at him. “…Was the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t act humble, Noah.” You narrowed your eyes on him, “You walked out in front of thousands of people… and you looked like…” You searched for the words before simply giving up. “…You looked like a rock star!”

He couldn’t help but smirk.

“I am one.”

“Oh, shut up.” You shook your head, making him laugh. “Here I was thinking you left because I upset you-”

His expression softened immediately, and interrupted you. 

“What?”

You paused for a moment, chewing on your lip. 

“When you left, I thought maybe it was because I mentioned my ex… I thought I annoyed you.”

His face fell.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His hands found yours. “Not even for a second.”

“I know that now.”

…

There were only a few songs left, and somehow each one felt better than the last. And now, every time Oli wandered near the side of the stage, you’d grin to yourself.

“You were just down there…” You whispered to Noah halfway through another song.

“I know.”

“It’s still so crazy to me.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Noah smiled, patting your thigh. But you didn’t think you ever would. 

When the final song ended, confetti cannons exploded over the crowd, and for one last time, the crowd went crazy. You found yourself clapping until your hands hurt, and as the lights slowly came back up, you turned to Noah.

“This might’ve actually been one of the best nights of my life.”

His smile softened as he stood up, offering his hand to you. 

“I’m really glad.”

“Thank you.” You said after a moment, and he squeezed your fingers.

“I wanted to do something special… and after the week you’ve had, I hope it was worth it.”

“It really was.”

The two of you lingered there for another minute, watching as thousands of people slowly began filing towards the exits.

Your ears were ringing, and your heart was racing, yet you felt like you could run a marathon with the adrenaline that was coursing through you. 

“So,” Noah smiled as he picked up his jacket. “You ready to head back to the hotel?”

You nodded your head. 

“But I’m way too awake to go to bed anytime soon.”

He laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us are sleeping just yet.”

Still buzzing with adrenaline, you walked hand in hand, following him back through the quiet corridors, the echoes of the concert still ringing in your ears.

You left through the back, the same way you came in, and there was already a driver waiting to take you back to the hotel. And even in the back seat of the car, you were still buzzing, and you couldn’t stop talking. 

“I still can’t believe you did that.”

Noah smiled to himself from beside you in the back of the cab.

“I know.”

“No, seriously.” You laughed. “I thought you were annoyed, then suddenly you’re on the stage!?”

He chuckled.

“Was I good though?”

You laughed, resting your head against the seat.

“Yes! And oh my god, you were so hot.”

He looked sideways at you over the top of his sunglasses that he slipped back on before leaving. 

“Still thinking about that?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.”

His smile widened.

“I don’t think you’ve ever kissed me like that before.”

“Can you blame me? I didn’t know you sounded like… that!”

He frowned playfully.

“…That?”

“You were screaming and growling! And doing those… those monster noises!”

He burst out laughing.

“‘Monster noises?’”

“You know what I mean!”

“Yeah, I do those.” He he chuckled. 

“I had no idea!”

He couldn’t stop smiling now.

“Well, you’ve never asked.”

“I didn’t know there was anything to ask! I always thought you’d like to keep me and your work separate…”

His face softened. 

“Why’d you think that?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to talk about that right now, after having such fun tonight. So you decided to change the subject. 

“I was wondering, when you go on tour…”

“Yes?”

“Can I…” You hesitated. “…Can I come and see you at a show?”

“You just did.” He smirked. 

“I know, but…” You smiled shyly. “I wanna see one of your own shows. I know I’ll be working most of the time, but if there’s ever one near enough-”

He reached across the seat and took your hand.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hm?”

“It’s already sorted.”

“…What?” You asked. 

“You’re on the guest list, there’s a couple dates where you’re not working, so I sorted it out.”

“You already planned it?”

“I haven’t booked plane tickets or anything yet because I didn’t know if you’d want to come out and see me… but yeah.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

“So if you want to come” He squeezed your hand. “There’ll be tickets waiting for you.”

You stared at him.

“You really thought about all of that?”

“Of course I did.” He said like it was obvious, like there had never been another option. “I want you there.”

You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt.

“I’d love that.” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

…

By the time you reached the hotel, neither of you had really come down from the adrenaline. You were still giggling in the elevator, replaying moments from the show, teasing Noah about how you’ve never heard so many women squeal the way they did when he appeared on the stage. He simply rolled his eyes, and teased you back just as much, making comments about Ricky again. 

Them the elevator doors opened, and you wandered down the corridor towards your room. You waited just outside the door as Noah patted his pockets down for the key card, before holding it open for you. 

And the moment the door shut behind you, you kicked your boots off with a groan.

“Why do my feet hurt so much if we were sitting for most of it?”

“Was it worth it, though?” Noah smirked. 

“So worth it.”

Then you glanced down at yourself. Your leather top was sticking to your skin, the necklaces were starting to feel claustrophobic and you rubbed at your eye, completely forgetting about your makeup. 

“I feel disgusting.” You groaned. 

Noah chuckled as he tossed his cap onto the dresser.

“You’re still beautiful to me, baby.” 

You side eyed him as if to say yeah right. 

“I think I need a shower.”

“Then take a shower.”

You looked up.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He walked over, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Go, take your time, sweetheart.”

“You don’t mind waiting?”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.” He smiled, kissing your forehead.

You smiled back at him.

“…Okay. And when I get out,” a little cheeky smirk spread across your face, “Do you think we can test out that new toy?”

Noah smirked, sitting back on the bed. 

“Of course we can.” He spread his legs out slightly. 

You nodded and reached for your little wash bag before disappearing into the bathroom, already looking forward to washing away the sweat and makeup from the evening.

As the door clicked shut behind you, Noah let out a quiet breath and smiled to himself. Tonight had gone exactly the way he’d hoped… but you didn’t know he had one last surprise in store. 

You showered in peace, not rushing yourself as you washed off the sweat and makeup, until you finally felt clean. 

You stepped out and reached for a towel, wrapping it around yourself before turning to the sink to do your skincare. You could picture Noah on the bed already, laying back in just a pair of grey sweats or black shorts, scrolling on his phone or switching through the channels on the TV. 

You were smiling to yourself, thinking about how nice the evening had been, then you pushed open the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom. 

Then you immediately stopped in your tracks. 

Holy shit.

In front of you, on the bed, Noah was lying there completely naked. Well, completely naked besides the black ski mask that was pulled over his face, leaving only his eyes and mouth visible. 

His tattoos were on full display across his body, standing out against the white bedding. One arm was tucked casually behind his head, looking so relaxed and confident… while his other hand held the wand vibrator you had bought this morning. He was slowly dragging the rounded head of the toy along the length of his thick, hard cock that rested against his lower stomach. 

Fuck, he looked so powerful, and almost a little intimidating…

The moment he noticed you in the doorway, his eyes met yours through the mask, and a slow, predatory smirk tugged at his mouth. You felt your breath catch, you couldn’t even think straight as heat flooded between your thighs. 

At first, Noah didn't move. He just kept slowly dragging the vibrating head along his cock, and down to his balls, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. 

“Hi, princess,” he said, his voice low and a little teasing. “Took you long enough.”

He gave his cock another slow stroke with the toy, letting you watch it drag over every inch of him. The way he was was touching himself so casually while wearing nothing but the mask made your stomach flutter, and you swallowed hard, trying so hard to stop your head from spinning. 

Noah tilted his head a little, his eyes dragging over your body.

“Drop the towel, sweet girl,” he said softly, but there was no mistaking the command in his tone. “I want to see you.”

You stood there for a second, your heart racing, your brain turning to mush- and Noah’s smirk just grew.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now, baby. You bought this toy for me… so I could use it on you. Come here and get on the bed.”

He spread his legs a little wider, making the view even more obscene- his hard cock, the buzzing vibrator, the mask, the tattoos, all of it on full display as he waited for you.

“I’ve been thinking about this since you handed it to me earlier, I can’t believe you went out and got this without me even having to ask…” He said, before a low groan slipped his lips. “Now get on this bed and let me show you how I reward my good girl.”

continue...

・┈・୨୧・┈・

・┈・୨୧・┈・

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing in your chest as you took in the sight of him- naked, masked, looking so powerful as he slowly teased his cock with the vibrator you bought. The black mask on his face made everything feel different. More thrilling, more dangerous in the best way.

Noah didn’t rush you. He just watched you with dark eyes, patient but clearly hungry, and the quiet buzzing of the vibrator was the only sound that filled the room besides your own heavy breathing. Finally, you reached up and unwrapped the towel. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, leaving you completely bare in front of him. A small, nervous smirk tugged at your lips as you met his gaze through the mask.

You slowly climbed onto the bed and crawled towards him on all fours, sensually but still a little cautious, like you were approaching something wild. You weren’t sure just how far he would take it tonight, you remember telling him you wanted him to be more rough in bed… so maybe that was his plan tonight?

When you reached him, you straddled his lap, hovering by his tummy, just above his hard cock, your hands resting gently on his chest.

Noah didn’t touch you right away. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes still dark and hungry behind the mask. One hand was still lazily stroking the vibrator along his cock, but his focus was now entirely on you.

Before anything else, he asked you a simple question.

“Do you remember the colour system, princess?”

You nodded, a little breathless already.

“Tell me,” he said gently but firmly. “Recite it for me.”

You swallowed.

“Green means keep going… yellow means slow down or check in… red means stop immediately.” You said a little breathlessly.

Noah’s eyes softened just slightly with approval, though the mask still made him look a little scary.

“Good girl,” he smiled, his voice warm with praise. “And you know you can use any of them at any time, right? No matter what. I want you to feel safe, even when I’m being rough with you tonight.”

He finally switched the vibrator off and set it aside before he reached for you, his hands settling carefully on your hips. His touch was gentle for now.. his thumbs brushing circles on your skin as he held you there, hovering over his cock.

He tilted his head, studying you through the mask.

“You still want this?” He asked, voice low but caring. “You want me to be rough with you tonight? To take control?”

You nodded again, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes. Please.”

Noah’s grip on your hips tightened just the slightest, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who was in charge.

Without another word, he flipped you onto your back and shoved you down into the mattress. You gasped as your back hit the sheets, and befote you could even react, he was between your thighs, keeping them spread wide with his body so you couldn’t close your legs. He pinned both of your wrists above your head in one large, strong hand, holding you firmly in place.

Now you were completely at his mercy.

Noah hovered over you, and his eyes locked onto yours through the mask as he held you down.

“Colour, baby?” He asked, his voice soft even as his grip on your wrists stayed firm. You were already breathing faster, your heart racing with anticipation.

“Green,” you whispered. Then again, more sure, “Green, green, green.”

Noah’s eyes softened with approval behind the mask, and he smirked.

“That’s my good girl.”

He reached beside you and picked up the vibrator again. He turned it on to a low setting, the soft buzz of it filling the room. Instead of going straight for your clit, like you thought he would, he started teasing you.

He dragged the buzzing head slowly up your side, making you shiver. Then to your breasts, circling one nipple, then the other. The vibrations made your nipples harden almost instantly, and he took his time, pressing the toy against each until you were squirming beneath him.

“Stay still for me.” He said softly, but his grip on your wrists tightened just enough to remind you who was in control.

He moved the vibrator lower, tracing it across your tummy, then down to your inner thighs. The teasing was driving you mad. You tried to arch up, to chase more contact, but he kept you pinned, and he watched every reaction, with a devilish smirk on his lips.

Finally, he dragged the vibrating head down to your mound, pressing it just above your clit, letting you feel the buzz so close but not quite where you needed it. You whimpered, hips moving desperately.

Noah then leaned down, the soft mask brushing your ear as he whispered,

“You wanted me rough tonight, didn’t you, princess?”

He pressed the vibrator firmly against your clit, then suddenly turned the intensity of it up.

The sudden, strong vibrations made your whole body jolt. A loud moan tore from your throat as he held it there, not moving or teasing, he just let it buzz against your most sensitive spot while he kept you pinned beneath him.

“That’s it, be a good girl and take it.” He whispered, his voice low and sweet but full of control.

He watched you through the mask as your body started to tense, your hips wriggling desperately. Just as you were right on the edge, about to cum, your thighs shaking, he pulled the vibrator away. You let out a broken, frustrated whimper, trying to close your legs. Noah chuckled darkly, and spread his thighs a little more to keep your legs even wider apart.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart,” he smirked, his voice now dripping with teasing dominance. “You don’t get to cum yet. I’m in charge tonight… so you’re going to take what I give you.”

He waited just long enough for your breathing to calm slightly, then pressed the vibrator back against your swollen clit. The sudden return of the intense vibrations made you cry out, your back arching hard off the bed.

You squirmed beneath him, trying again to close your legs, but he held you open so easily and effortlessly, his own body keeping you spread and helpless.

Noah chuckled again, darker this time, clearly enjoying your desperation.

“Look at you,” he said softly, almost mockingly sweet. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re this needy.”

He edged you once again, bringing you right to the brink with the powerful toy, only to pull it away at the last second. You sobbed, your hips raising to chase the vibrator desperately, but he kept it just out of reach, watching you fall apart with dark eyes.

“Please…” you whimpered, your voice breaking. But Noah leaned down, the mask brushing your ear again,

“Not yet, baby. I think I want to watch you just a little more.”

He pressed the vibrator back onto your clit for the third time, holding it there as he watched you tremble. Your thighs shook, your legs tried uselessly to close around him again. The want and denial had you crying out, tears slipping down your cheeks.

But this time, as you felt your orgasm build again, he didn’t pull away.

“That’s it, cum for me, princess,” he said. “Right now.”

You whined, your back arching as your pussy clenched around nothing, and your thighs shook uncontrollably. Noah kept the vibrator pressed hard against your clit through the entire orgasm, drawing it out until you were a sobbing, trembling mess beneath him.

Only when you started to come down, whimpering and oversensitive, did he finally pull the toy away. He let go of your wrists and gathered you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as you shook.

He kissed your forehead through the mask, voice suddenly much softer.

“You did so well, baby… so good for me.”

His hand gently stroked your back while you trembled against him. He kissed you again and whispered softly,

“You okay, princess? Want more?”

You nodded, still breathing hard.

“Yes… please.”

Noah’s eyes darkened again, and he gave you a satisfied smile.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Get on top and ride me, baby. I want to watch you take my cock.”

You moved shakily, your legs still weak from the how intense your orgasm was. But you straddled his hips, your hands pressing against his chest for balance as he reached down and lined himself up. With a soft whimper, you slowly sank down onto his thick cock, taking him inch by inch until he was buried completely inside you.

You paused for a moment, adjusting to the fullness, your hands trembling on his chest. Noah groaned deeply, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips.

“Fuck, you always look so pretty like this,” he said, voice rough but full of praise. “Sitting on my cock.”

Then he started thrusting up into you. It was gentle at first, slow and deep… then it became hard.

His hips snapped upwards, driving his cock deep into you while he held you down on him. You cried out, your body jolting with every powerful thrust, because Noah didn’t let you set the pace. He took control from below, fucking you with deep, rough strokes. He even slapped your ass, not too hard but certainly not gentle, and the sharp sting made you clench around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice low and filthy. “Just sit there and look pretty while I fuck you. You feel so fucking good.”

He groped your tits with rough hands, squeezing and pinching your nipples as he continued to thrust up into you, his cock slamming deep with every snap of his hips. The mix of pleasure and the lingering sting of his hand on your ass had you moaning loudly, your nails digging into his chest to attempt to steady yourself.

Noah kept praising you between rough thrusts and spanks, and he remembered what you told him- so never once did he say a degrading word.

“Look at you… taking my cock so well. Such a good fucking girl for me. Your tits look so pretty bouncing like this while I fuck you.”

He slapped your ass again, harder this time, then reached for your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he pounded into you from below. God, his hands felt so good, no matter where on you they were.

You were a moaning, trembling mess on top of him, barely able to keep up with any rhythm as the pleasure began to overwhelm you.

“Noah… more…” You gasped, your eyes already starting to roll back.

Noah’s hand shot up instantly. He grabbed your face in one large hand, squishing your cheeks together firmly as he forced you to look at him.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he growled through the mask, “Eyes on me.”

You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes focused on him as he continued thrusting up into you.

“You want more?” He asked, still holding your face. “Then you’re going to look at me while I give it to you.”

He smoothly flipped you onto your back again. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he shoved his cock back inside you in one deep thrust. The new angle made him hit even deeper, making you cry out.

Noah wrapped one hand around your throat, he didn't squeeze tight, he just applied the most dizzying pressure, before he started fucking you hard.

“Colour, princess?” He asked again, his voice rough but he still made sure he was checking in, just to see where you were at. You could barely speak through the overwhelming pleasure, but you managed to gasp out,

“Green… green-“

Noah’s grip on your throat tightened just a little more as he pounded into you, the mask making him look almost feral.

“Good girl.” He growled, slamming into you harder.

He suddenly pulled out, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach with rough hands, yanking your hips up so your ass was high in the air.

He grabbed the wand from beside you and turned it on to a higher setting this time. Without any warning, he pressed the buzzing head hard against your swollen, overstimulated clit and shoved his thick cock back inside you with one hard, sudden thrust.

You whimpered loud into the mattress as he started fucking you from behind. Then Noah fisted your hair and yanked your head back sharply, arching your back as he fucked you harder.

“Colour?” he growled through the mask, still checking in even as he destroyed you.

“G-green!” You sobbed, barely able to speak.

He spanked your ass hard, the sharp sting blooming across your skin as he continued pounding into you. His hips snapped against you with such force, his cock hitting so deep it made your eyes roll back, and the vibrator never left your clit, only making the sensations more overwhelming.

Noah then leaned over your back, and growled,

“You wanted rough, princess. So I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He spanked you again, harder, his thrusts growing even more savage and animalistic. You were shaking, and sobbing with pleasure as another orgasm built fast, and Noah could feel it.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice rough. “Right fucking now. I want to feel this pussy squeeze around my cock.”

He spanked you one more time, and turned the vibrator up once more as your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body trembling as you came hard, but Noah didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through it.

“Oh, was that the best you can do?” He teased. “No, baby… you can cum harder than that for me.”

Before you could catch your breath, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. He kept one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place while his other hand brought the vibrator back to your clit, pressing it firmly against your swollen, oversensitive nub.

The second the strong vibrations hit your clit, you cried out again, louder this time, but Noah didn’t give you any mercy. He thrust into you hard and deep, his thick cock hitting the most delicious spots from this new angle.

“Fuck!” You sobbed, your body jolting with every thrust, and your head rolled back, resting against his shoulder.

Then his hand slid up from your waist and wrapped around your throat again.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled through the mask, his voice rough and dark. “Take my cock like a good girl. I want to feel you cum harder this time. Think you can do that for me?”

You desperately nodded, though your head was spinning from the pressure around your throat combined with every other sensation.

“Show me, pretty girl. Cum for me again.”

He pressed the vibrator even more firmly against your clit as he fucked into you, his hand tight around your throat, and you came again with a broken moan, your whole body trembling and your thighs shaking as the orgasm hit you even harder than before.

Noah groaned deeply, still thrusting into you through your orgasm, not slowing down for a second.

“Good… good girl,” he praised, drawing out the words, his voice rough and thick with lust. “That’s what I wanted.”

Then he started to slow his thrusts, still buried deep inside you, and loosened his grip on your throat.

“Colour?” He asked yet again, his voice suddenly full of care.

You were shaking, breathing hard, but you managed to whisper,

“Green… but j-just give me a moment… please.”

Noah immediately stopped moving. He pulled the vibrator away from your clit and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close against his chest from behind.

“Of course, baby,” he whispered softly. “Take all the time you need. I’ve got you.”

He stayed buried inside you but didn’t thrust. Instead, he showered you with gentle kisses- along your shoulder, the back of your neck, your jaw. His hands moved down and stroked your sore, red ass tenderly, massaging the stinging skin with soothing circles.

“You did so well,” he whispered between kisses. “You took me so beautifully. My strong, perfect girl.”

He kept kissing you softly, his lips warm and soft and patient, while his hands continued their gentle massage on your ass and back. He waited until your breathing slowed and your body relaxed against him.

When you finally nodded, whispering “I’m ready,” Noah kissed your neck one more time. Then he laid back and gently guided you into his lap again so you were straddling him, facing him. He held you close as he slowly lowered you onto his cock, sinking you down until he was buried deep inside you again.

You whimpered at the fullness, still so sensitive.

Noah reached for the vibrator and pressed it back against your clit- this time on an even higher speed. The strong and intense vibrations made you cry out, your body jerking against him.

“Oh baby, I know…” he cooed softly, his voice full of sweet condescension as he wrapped one arm around your waist to hold you in place. “It’s so sensitive, isn’t it? But it feels so good, doesn’t it?”

He started thrusting up into you, slow and deep this time. The vibrator buzzed against your overstimulated clit while his cock filled you completely, making you whimper and moan, burying your face in his neck as the overwhelming pleasure built again.

Noah kissed your shoulder and whispered against your skin,

“That’s my good girl… just take it for me. I love how you tremble when I push you like this.”

He kept fucking deep, with hard but slow thrusts, the vibrator never leaving your clit as he held you close in his lap.

“Just one more, okay? Think you can do that?”

You were whimpering helplessly as the overwhelming pleasure kept building.

“I can’t… Noah, I can’t cum again.” You gasped, your voice breaking.

Noah’s arm tightened around your waist, holding you down on his cock as he kept thrusting up into you. His voice stayed soft but firm against your ear.

“No, baby… you can,” he said sweetly. “I know you can. Just one more for me. You’re doing so so well.”

You whined pathetically, overwhelmed and oversensitive, but your body kept responding to him. Noah slowed his thrusts again just enough to check in, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

“Colour, princess?” he asked, voice low and caring.

“Green…” you breathed, then nodded because you were barely able to speak. “Green…”

Noah’s eyes softened with pride behind the mask, then before he could say or do anything, you started to rock your hips. The vibrator was pressed between your bodies, the buzzing head nestled right against your clit. Noah noticed so stopped thrusting completely, instead he let you roll your hips, grinding your clit harder against the toy with every movement.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head falling forward as the overwhelming pleasure took over. Your heart was racing, breathing shaky. Noah felt so good inside you- thick and warm and deep- while the vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your poor, sensitive, swollen clit.

“That’s it, princess,” he whispered softly, his hands resting on your hips, guiding your movements gently. “You like that? Just rock on me. Nice and slow, yeah? Feel how deep I am?”

You whimpered, grinding harder against the vibrator with each roll of your hips. The combination of his cock stretching you and the strong, steady vibrations on your clit was pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

Noah kept one arm wrapped around your back, holding you close against his chest as you rocked on him. He kissed your temple, your cheek, your shoulder- giving you soft, loving kisses while you chased your pleasure.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he whispered tenderly. “I can feel how close you are, squeezing so tight around me. Just let it build. Don’t fight it... just give it to me.”

You came with a broken cry, your whole body shaking as you fell completely forward against his chest. Your pussy clenched rhythmically around his cock as wave after wave of such intense pleasure rolled through you. Soft whimpers and whines spilled from your lips as you trembled in his arms.

But Noah didn’t move the vibrator.

He kept it there, pressed firmly against your oversensitive clit, letting the strong vibrations drag your orgasm out longer. You whimpered louder, squirming in his lap as the overstimulation started to border on too much.

“N-noah…” You whined, voice shaky.

He kissed your shoulder softly, still holding you close.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked gently.

“Yellow…” You whimpered.

Noah immediately turned the vibrator off and set it aside. He wrapped both arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest as you trembled and caught your breath.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your hair and temple. “You did so well, baby. So perfect for me. Just breathe. I’m right here.”

He stayed buried deep inside you, rubbing your back in slow, soothing strokes while you came down in his arms. You were still trembling, breathing hard but he held you softly until your shaking eased.

When you finally relaxed against his chest, he tilted your chin up softly and looked at you with dark, hungry eyes.

“I haven’t cum yet, princess,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “Will you be a good girl and let me finish in your mouth? You can say no if you want, I’ll go sort myself out in the bathroom, but-

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, you nodded, still dazed and fucked out, but eager to please him after he just made you feel that fucking good.

Noah smiled softly and helped you move, guiding you down between his thighs. You crawled between his legs on shaky arms, your body still sensitive and trembling from everything he’d done to you.

You wrapped your hand around his thick, glistening cock- still rock hard and covered in your slick- and took him into your mouth. The taste of yourself was all over him, salty-sweet and messy. You moaned around his cock as you started sucking him, slow and sloppy, your tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper.

Noah groaned, one hand gently resting on the back of your head.

“Fuck, baby… that’s so good,” he praised softly. “Look at you… can you taste yourself on my cock?”

You hummed, and sucked him messily, spit and your slick dripping down to his balls as you bobbed your head. You were still so fucked out- your eyes glossy and dazed, movements a little uncoordinated- but you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him feel amazing.

Noah’s breathing grew heavier. His hand tightened in your hair, and he started guiding you a little more firmly, thrusting shallowly into your mouth.

“If it’s too much, tap my thigh twice, okay?” He said, his voice rough but still caring.

You hummed around him in acknowledgment, then he started thrusting a little deeper, fucking your mouth slowly, his grip in your hair tightening. Spit dripped down your chin as you took him deeper, gagging softly but not pulling away.

Noah groaned loudly, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he fucked your face.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praised, voice strained with pleasure. “Taking my cock so well… just like that, baby.”

He thrust a little harder, holding you in place as he chased his release, the wet, sloppy sounds of your mouth filling the room.

You still took him eagerly, sucking and slurping messily around his thick cock even as it pushed deeper. You gagged hard when he hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you moaned around him, spit dripping down your chin as you tried to take more.

“Fuck, baby… you’re so perfect. My perfect, pretty girl.” Noah groaned.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you gagged again, pulling off for a second, but you kept sucking him, your tongue swirling messily whenever you could. Your hands gripped his thighs, not pushing him away, but just holding on as he used your warm, wet mouth.

Noah’s breathing grew even more ragged. You looked up at him through your lashes, and you could tell by the way his tummy was tensing and tightening that he was close.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna cum,” he growled, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue. “Swallow it all for me, princess. You’re so fucking good to me…”

Then, with a deep, guttural groan, he thrust deep into your mouth once more and came hard. You took him in your hand, pumping his length as thick, hot spurts of cum landed on your tongue, your lips, a little on your chin. Then you took the head into your mouth and gently sucked, before swallowing around him, not wanting to waste a drop.

Noah kept his cock in your mouth through every pulse, groaning softly as you milked him for all he had.

When he finally finished, he slowly pulled out, strings of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his cock. You pressed one last little kiss to his tip as he looked down at you- teary eyed and messy, but still so eager- and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“You were so fucking good for me, baby,” he whispered, voice soft with praise. “Come here.”

He pulled you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest as you caught your breath. He cradled you like you were the most precious thing in his world. He pulled the covers around both of you and held you close, one hand gently stroking your back while the other cradled the back of your head.

“Shhh, I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered softly, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your temple. “You did so, so well. I’m so so proud of you.”

You were still dazed, breathing softly against his neck, your body trembling from the intensity of everything. But Noah kept kissing you, sweet little tender kisses all over your face and shoulders, bringing you back to earth with his warmth and touch.

“I’m so proud of you.” He said genuinely, his voice full of adoration.

He rocked you gently in his arms, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back while the other brushed sweat damp hair out of your face.

“My pretty girl,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose. “You’re so pretty when you cum for me… so pretty when you’re all fucked out and trembling in my arms like this. You’re so strong, so beautiful.”

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to your lips, then rested his forehead against yours, holding you even closer.

“You’re safe, princess. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me, okay? In… and out.”

He kept kissing you softly between words- on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks, your mouth- while his hands never stopped their gentle, soft touches.

“You did everything right,” he whispered again, voice full of warmth. “You were perfect. My perfect, beautiful girl. I’m so lucky you trust me like this.”

He held you tighter, letting you bury your face in his neck. His voice stayed soft and reassuring the whole time.

The first time you’d seen him was the day after a full moon. You’d been nursing your morning coffee when he had stumbled out of one of your blackberry bushes looking all sorts of messed up. For a moment, you thought that you had imagined it. Surely there hadn’t been a man sleeping in your bush.

A month later, you had seen him again. Except this time he hadn’t stumbled out of your bushes. No — instead you had found him leaning against the wall of your garden shed, bleeding heavily from his forehead.

You had learned that his name is Nick. Initially, he had told you that he’d simply gotten into a fight. You’d accepted the lie, not feeling like it was your place to question what this stranger told you. You had patched him up and made him a sandwich, insisting that he needed to eat something. That day, Nick had slipped out of your kitchen while you’d been out of the room for just a few minutes.

He’d returned almost exactly a month later.

Funnily enough, he’d been almost in the same shape too.

Once again, you had patched him up. Cleaning up his wounds while he told you about the scrap he got into this time. This time, he didn’t sneak out behind your back. Instead, he stayed for a little while, reluctantly eating the breakfast you presented him with. Watching him trying to keep his restraint up had been impossibly entertaining.

After that day, he had come around more frequently instead of just once every month. No matter how well you get to know him, you still don’t feel closer to figuring out why he keeps showing up all beaten up once a month. You’re sure that the injuries he shows up with keep getting worse. The fights he gets into seem to be getting worse, and you don’t know how this will end.

You have your suspicions of course. You’re not dumb. Him showing up like this after a full moon feels like a very obvious hint at his nature. Unless there’s secret fight club that only meets once a full moon, you’re inclined to believe that he’s one of them. You’ve heard the rumours about the lycanthropes that supposedly roam the forests around your town. You've always put them of as nothing more than rumours and folktales, but now that you're actually faced it, you’re forced to come to the realisation that perhaps it’s all true after all.

After almost a year you have the moon cycle marked in your calendar. And when the full moon rolls around you’re prepared to tend to his wounds. By now, Nick is a lot more relaxed. He’ll have his breakfast with you and on some days he’ll even have a nap in front of your fireplace.

To his disappointment the fireplace will be cold when he shows up this time. It’s the middle of July and summer has truly hit now. You’ll make sure that he has a comfortable spot to nap in nevertheless. The of the full moon always feels like it draws out for longer than normally. You can’t help but worry about Nick. Your mind keeps wandering, trying to imagine what kind of injuries he’ll show up with this time. Regardless of how bad it gets, you just can’t bring yourself to tell him not to come anymore. You’d rather have him come to you than deal with the aftermath on your own. At least that way, his wounds will be tended to properly.

Your sleep is restless that night.

You never sleep well during the full moon, but it feels so much worse tonight. You toss and turn all night, never quite finding satisfying rest. And when you wake in the morning, it feels as if you’ve barely slept at all.

As a first order of business, you drag yourself into the kitchen to get the coffee pot started. God knows you’ll need a lot of that today. So far, there’s no sight of Nick. Usually, he’ll already be seated on the porch, waiting for you to join him with a cup of coffee. You hope that he’s just late and that it’s nothing worse.

Once your coffee is ready, you pour yourself a cup and step out onto the porch.

It takes you a moment to spot the mass of black fur that is curled up on the outdoor sofa. What’s even more surprising, is that you seem to instinctively know that you’re looking at Nick. You don’t know why you’re so sure that it’s him — something about the figure just feels so very familiar. He doesn’t seem to notice your arrival. And even when you take a seat in the armchair next to him, his form remains entirely unmoved.

You’re sure that it’s been almost thirty minutes of you silently nursing your coffee before the wolf like creature finally begins to shift. As it begins to stretch and shift, you come to realise that he looks more like an oversized wolf dog than an actual wolf. The wolf lets out a hearty yawn, before it plops over onto its side. It’s face twists in a curious kind of surprise — as much as its possibly for a wolf to look surprised at least. You’re caught in this stalemate for a long moment, with neither of you sure of how to proceed with this. After a few seconds, you decide to reach out your hand for him. You move slowly, as if your approaching a dog you haven’t properly met yet, giving him room to retreat if necessary. But he doesn’t — and so you carefully let your fingers drift across the soft fur on the wolfs head. He leans into your touch, pressing his head against your palm.

“Nick?” you ask cautiously.

The wolfs head cocks to the side in response, indicating recognition.

“I’ll be honest this is a bit of a surprise.” You continue, “Probably should have known after you took a shower here and did that little shake dogs do when they’re wet.”

He lets out a little huff of protest and you can't help but laugh a little.

“Looks like this is really comfy for you, hm?”

Nick makes an affirmative noise.

“I planned breakfast for a guy not — a pup.” you say then, giving the fur on the top of his head a little ruffle, “I don’t know how this all works.”

You’re pretty sure that he frowns at you.

He lets out a little rumbling huff, before he leaps off the sofa. Nick trots off around the corner and out of your view. There’s an awful stretching sound from his direction. It almost sounds like something tearing and ripping. It only lasts for a few seconds, before you hear a deep sigh that sounds unmistakably like Nick.

“Could you hand me that blanket you have on that arm chair?” He calls from around the corner, “I’m a little — indecent at the moment.”

Your cheeks heat at his words. Your relationship has slowly moved into something beyond friendship but this is a leap forward you did not anticipate.

“Also I think your neighbour is looking at me.” He adds after a few seconds.

You shake yourself into action, before you can linger on the thought of him bare naked in your garden for too long. A moment later, Nick emerges from the little corner with the blanket wrapped around his waist. You’ve seen glimpses of the massive tattoo on his chest before. But this is the first time you can see it in all of its glory. The image of the eagle carrying what looks to be a trout covers almost his entire chest.

It’s gorgeous.

“I think I still have some stuff my brother left here. Should sort of fit you.” You say then, hoping that it’ll make your mind stop wandering.

“One of those weird ass raccoons dragged my stuff away while I was — usually they stay away from it but this one was looking for trouble.” He explains.

“Is that why you showed up like that?”

He nods, “Thought that would be less of a shock than naked guy on your porch without a warning.”

You have to give him that.

“I’ll explain everything. Trust me I didn’t want to jump this on you like that either.” He continues, “I was going to tell you eventually, but as you can imagine this isn’t something a lot of people take kindly to.”

Nick follows you into the kitchen, taking his now usual seat at your kitchen table.

“I had my suspicions to be honest.”

“What? Are you saying that a guy showing up all beat up after every full moon is suspicious?” He says with that little grin of his.

You feel the sudden urge to smack his shoulder.

“I never knew how to explain why I kept showing up like that. But you’ve always been so kind to me without any kind of judgement. Doesn’t happen very often.”

The idea that someone has met him with anything less than unconditional kindness makes your chest ache for him. Nick has been nothing but sweet and kind to you, and you can’t imagine treating him any differently.

“I couldn't imagine not helping someone in need like that. You were wounded, and it only made sense to help you.”

“And I’ll never forget that. You probably saved my life that day.” He says then, sounding somewhat solemn.

He lets out a sigh that says that he doesn’t want to go too much deeper into the topic. If it truly was as bad as he’d insinuated, you understand that he maybe doesn’t want to dwell on the memory.

Instead of digging deeper you make your way into your bedroom to dig out the clothes your brother had left behind during his last visit. You don’t know when he’ll make his way back here, so you’re not too concerned about it. As always, Nick asks you so sweetly if you’d mind it if he were to take a quick shower. And as ways, you tell him that he can take all the time he needs.

It’s a well practiced play by now.

Sometimes you wish that you could just break out of the lines you’ve rehearsed so diligently. But this feels safe — comfortable. You don’t know what you’d do if Nick would stop showing up one day, just because things had changed between you.

While Nick takes his shower, you start to work on the breakfast you’ll share. With how warm it’s been lately, you decide that it’d be nice to have breakfast out on the porch. Nick joins you just as you carry the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon outside. He doesn’t ask what needs to be done, instead he just picks up a couple of things and carries them outside alongside you.

Once you’ve set everything out, and you’ve poured both of you fresh cups of coffee you sit down next to Nick on the little outdoor sofa.

“I imagine you probably have a few questions?” He asks as you begin to dig in, “I don’t know how much I can actually answer but I’ll try.”

The list of questions in your head has grown spectacularly long within the last hour. Deciding where to start feels almost a little impossible.

“Just so we're both on the same side you’re a —”

“Werewolf.” He says with his mouth still full, “Lycanthrope. Whatever you wanna call it.”

The confirmation feels less daunting than you had imagined. Maybe you’ve always known somehow.

You nod, “Have you always been a — werewolf?”

Nick gives an affirmative hum.

“It’s a family thing. Big and complicated too. I don’t know which ancestor got himself into his pickle or how they managed it. All I know is that it's been in the family for a few generations. Back to my great grandfather for sure.” He explains.

“Are you close with your family?”

“Not really. I — haven’t seen them in a long time. I’m not too upset about it though. They left me behind because I didn’t grow fast enough for their liking. I was lucky enough to be found by a different pack before winter. They took me in and raised me. Wouldn’t want to imagine what things would be like if I had stayed with my family.”

“And the pack that raised you?” you ask.

“Greatest people I know. They went out of their way to take me in. They didn’t need to take care of me the way they did.” he continues to explain, “I’m glad that they were the ones who ended up raising me.”

“I think you turned out great.”

Nick gives you the brightest smile in response, “I think so too. I think I’d like you to meet them at some point — if that’s something you want.”

You feel caught for a moment, unsure where that particular step will lead you. Despite the insecurity that bubbles up in your chest you return his smile.

You’ve always felt safe around Nick. And even now that you know about his true nature you don’t feel scared or worried.

He puts down his cup of coffee, “Doesn’t have to happen soon and of course if you don’t want it that’s okay too.”

“I’d love to.” You finally reply, “Feels awfully like meeting the parents of your —”

His cheeks flush so brightly, “It does, doesn’t it?”

You sit in silence for a moment, the unspoken words simmering between you. The silence grows almost unbearably thick. Nick’s restless shifting is what finally gives you the push you needed to break it. It doesn’t take an expert in bodylanguage to know that there’s something he wants to say. One of you will have to take the plunge and it looks like it’ll have to be you.

“Would you want that?” you ask cautiously, ever worried that it’s all something you’ve imagined.

His eyes remain fixed on the edge of the table, forehead twisted into a frown you haven’t seen from him before.

“I don’t want to pull you into my mess. I’m already putting you into danger by spending so much time here.” he says quietly.

You feel a cold shiver running down your back, “What do you mean?”

“There are other things in these woods. Not nice things. Things that don’t like me and my kind and our pack. They’ve been trying to push us out and me being here has put a target on your back. I’m worried that they’ll try to do something to you to provoke me.”

"Do you really think that’s going to change something?”

He finally looks at you then, but his expression is still so very hard to read.

“That’s not going to stop me from helping you and it won’t change how I feel.” you say softly, “I’ve come to care a great deal for you and some woodland critter is not going to change that.”

He lets out a chortling laugh, “Don’t let the pixies hear that. They don’t love being grouped in with those things.”

You place your hand on top of his and Nick quickly laces your fingers together.

“You’ll have to explain all of this to me at some point.” you say, fixing him with a serious look.

Nick gives a quick nod.

“I will. In time. I’ll try my best to explain everything.” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before he speaks again, “But now I would like to enjoy this morning with you.”

You can’t say no to him when he looks at you with those warm and kind eyes.

The morning continues to meander along without any disturbances. Things with Nick have always felt easy, but now that you’ve crossed this hurdle you feel so much more uninhibited. You’d agreed to take it slow, but it’s so terribly hard to keep your hands off him. You’ll respect his wish to wait of course, but in the meantime Nick seems to be more than happy with how affectionate you are with him.

You spent a good chunk of the day lazing around in the sun, simply enjoying each other company and this new found connection you have.

After lunch, Nick finally lets him drive you back to his place. So far, he’s always insisted on walking the distance, always finding some kind of reason why you shouldn’t drive him.

His little cabin sits at what you learn is the edge of a larger plot of land that you assume is own by his pack. It’s a comfy little place, the perfect kind of rustic.

You don’t stay for long, sensing that he needs to have a little time for himself and probably a good nights sleep.

“I’ll come around tomorrow, okay?” he says as you walk back to your car, “I’ll try to have some better answers for you by then too.”

“Don’t rush it. Maybe instead of devulging folkore secrets we could go to the diner and get something to eat?”

Nicks face softens at your words before he breaks into that pretty smile of his, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“And what if I am?”

“If you are, I’m gonna say yes.”

“Good.” You reply with a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nick captures your hand before you can step away from him.

“I’m glad we figured this out.” He says with a low voice, “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

You press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m glad that you stumbled into my garden.”

you hug your knees to your chest, your head resting on your arm as you watch Noah gather his things. clothes haphazardly shed around the room, wallet, keys, his phone on your dresser,.... he balances on one leg as he tugs his pants back over his boxers.

you try—unsuccessfully—to push down the flare of attraction you feel in your core as his shirtless form bends to grab his tank. his shoulders are broader than they used to be, his recent gains evidenced in the way muscle shifts under his skin as he moves. it’s unfair, really—how good he looks. almost as unfair as the way he’d peeled that same tank top off earlier, effortless and practiced in that way fuckboys somehow perfect.

he can’t help but smirk when he notices you looking. “you’re staring,” Noah says lowly, tugging his zipper up.

“can you blame me for enjoying the view?”

he grins and leans in to graze his lips across your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin a little more than playfully as he murmurs into your ear, “you always make this part harder than it needs to be.”

“then why go? you could always stay…”

Noah sighs, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. if you didn’t know him better, you’d almost think he regrets it, but this conversation always ends the same way, the two of you stuck in the same argument on repeat every time he has to leave. “you know why.”

and you do. this was supposed to be casual. no strings and no feelings.

except he just uses it as a shield. an excuse not to have to deal with the aftermath. 

you wrap your arms tighter around yourself, like you can hold in whatever is cracking open inside your chest. 

you told yourself you could handle it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

he never stayed. he never held you until you fell asleep. never cleaned you up or gave you soft words of affirmation. there was only ever the sound of the door closing behind him.

it never felt like you were more than a readily available way to blow off steam, a distraction. it was never about being intimate but about needing a body. you’re not special. you’re only one of countless girls Noah could choose from, and they’d all fall into bed with him without a second thought. 

Noah doesn’t so much as spare a glance back over his shoulder before he’s out the door, and that about sums up the state of your relationship. or lack thereof. 

a single, solitary tear falls down your cheek, and you stay, unmoving, until you can finally muster the energy to force yourself up and into the bathroom.

when you look at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognize the sad, broken person staring back at you. the circles under your eyes seem to have gotten darker. your hair is a disheveled mess, and your lips look bitten raw from where Noah attacked them earlier.

you turn on the water and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down your body.

it doesn’t make you feel any less dirty.

you could scrub yourself raw, and you would still be able to feel his touch on your skin. that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is knowing you’ll keep coming back for more. 

you hate yourself for it. hate the way your knees go weak whenever he looks at you with those doe eyes of his. how he could ruin you without even trying. most of all, you hate the way your body betrays you so easily, how even a single touch from him sets every nerve alight.

he’s like a drug of the most dangerous kind, your addiction, and you’re hooked.

you hate that you’d let him use you, and you have, over and over again. hate that you still want him so badly, that a part of you will always crave him no matter how badly you get hurt. and you hate the fact that the memory of him is going to linger on your skin for days, and the only thing you can do is cling to the sheets and pillows and the traces of his scent left behind.

you hate that even as he hurts you, you still love him.

if Noah called tomorrow, you’d answer. if he showed up at your door, you’d let him in without hesitation.

you love him too much to learn otherwise.

you check the time. 1 am.

you’re dialing Jesse’s number before you can think too hard about it. he is, after all, the one person who’s consistently had your back through everything, even if it’s complicated by his years-long friendship with Noah. Jesse had never minced words about his disapproval of how Noah treated you and the fact that it made him an ass, not when they were living together as roommates and not now when he’s since moved out, still always quick to defend your honor and forever on your side, his best friend be damned.

what you haven’t realized is that Jesse’s fierce protectiveness stems not just from platonic concern, but from feelings he harbors for you that you’re somehow shockingly dense about.

it only takes three rings before you hear a sleepy “hello?” on the other end of the line, and you suddenly feel guilty for waking him, but as he clears his throat, you can already picture him pushing himself up to lean against the headboard, his curls a mess. it’s too late now.

even just the thought of what you’d called to get off your chest has you sniffling again, tears trailing down your cheeks. “Noah just left,” you manage to get out amid sniffles.

the fatigue in Jesse’s voice vanishes in an instant, replaced by worry. he knows you all too well, and he knows how this goes. you didn’t call just to tell him that. you’re upset, and he’s the only person you could think to call. the only one who gets it.

he sighs softly on the other end, and you hear the sounds of him getting up and shuffling around, throwing on a sweatshirt.

you imagine him pacing in the hall, a moment’s notice from being on his way to you as he asks quietly, “are you okay? do you need me to come over?”

“I’m a mess,” you say, like that should be reason enough for him not to.

Jesse scoffs quietly. “don’t be an idiot. I’m coming over.”

the line goes quiet for a few seconds, and you know he’s slipping on his sneakers and grabbing his truck keys. “I’ll be there in twenty. hang tight, alright? I’m on my way.”

when he lets himself in, you’re wrestling with the sheets, stripping your bed frustratedly. Jesse appears in the doorway, and you just say sadly, “they smell like him,” before he’s bundling them in his arms and into the laundry.

the two of you remake your bed in silence with a fresh set of bedding from your linen closet. a familiar dance.

Jesse doesn’t say anything about the good set of underwear you’d worn specifically for Noah shed on the floor, or the faint red marks across your throat, like someone had been nipping at your skin.

“I hate his cologne,” you say bitterly, collapsing on your back into the mattress. 

what you hate even more is how it makes you want to take a bite out of Noah every time. how it somehow gets into everything. sheets, pillows, even rubs off on your clothes. 

Jesse snorts at that, making you smile faintly. 

the two of you lie side by side, his shoulder brushing yours as he stares up at your bedroom ceiling. he turns his head to study you for a moment. 

it hurts him to see you this way. to see you treated this way.

“you love that overpriced bullshit cologne of his.”

you huff softly at that, not quite landing a sharp jab to his ribs with your elbow. Jesse snickers. he catches your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

he looks back over at you, and when you meet his eyes, the expression on his face is so unbearably soft that it makes your chest ache. he brings your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that makes you shiver.

“I hate it… I hate that I love it. that I love him,” you admit quietly.

“yeah,” Jesse murmurs sadly. “I know.”

he’s probably the only one in the world who really does. 

he’s been your friend and your confidante. he knows everything. every detail, every late-night confession, every time you’ve sworn you were done, only to fall right back into the same cycle. he knows how deeply you crave a man who has only ever known how to use you.

for Jesse, your suffering at the hands of his so-called best friend has been something of a personal torment, forced to watch Noah break your heart while being silently in love with you for years. like being stuck in a time loop where he’s doomed to witness an inevitable car crash he can’t derail. over and over again. 

“he’s never going to love me back.”

you’re past the point of tears now. it’s a numb sort of melancholy, dwelling on this gaping hole in your chest, but it demands to be felt.

you feel Jesse’s hand leave yours as he rolls over onto his side, pulling you gently against him and into the crook of his neck.

you’ve spent many a night clinging to him like this, crying yourself to sleep on his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping around your back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I deserve better.”

“damn right you do.”

“why couldn’t I love someone else? anyone else? someone easy… someone who’d love me back with their whole heart… someone like you.” you frown.

you hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud.

Jesse swallows hard around the lump in his throat and closes his eyes. hearing you say that hurts, because he’d give you the damn world if you let him, cherish you in a way no one else has, but you remain stuck on someone who fails to recognize your worth. and the heart wants what it wants.

none of it matters if you don’t choose him.

“it won’t always be like this.” he doesn’t say what he’s thinking. that you’re never going to get over Noah if you keep falling back into bed with him. “you should get some sleep.”

“stay the night?”

he knows he shouldn’t, but when it’s you asking, he’d find a way to lasso the moon.

“yeah,” Jesse agrees. “...what is it anyway?” 

“what’s what?” you mumble, already drifting.

he pulls the blanket over your shoulders. “...why him? why do you keep going back? what is it about him?”

his voice isn’t angry, just tired, like he’s worn down from watching you break over and over.

“would you believe me if I said his massive di—”

Jesse groans and immediately clamps a hand over your mouth, shooting you a ‘be serious’ look.

besides, live with someone long enough and chances are you’ve seen them naked. he isn’t exactly packing anything that you can’t get elsewhere.

“you’re ridiculous. and I’ve seen his dick. does it have magical properties? try again.”

“fuck if I know. we want what we can’t have, right?”

isn’t that the truth? Jesse’s heart constricts painfully.

“you’re worth so much more than crumbs, y’know,” he murmurs quietly, voice full of emotion. you deserve the whole damn bakery.

knowing he’s right isn’t the problem. try telling that to the traitor in your chest.

“do you talk about me?”

“what do you mean?” Jesse asks cautiously, though he suspects he knows. 

“you and Noah… does my name ever come up?”

there’s a flicker of guilt on Jesse’s face as he shifts uncomfortably. “yeah… sometimes,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. 

“do I want to know? …nevermind.” you drop it, not giving him a chance to elaborate. you know you’re putting him in a tough position. “I know I’m not the only one.”

Jesse winces, and his silence says more than enough. you know you have no right to be jealous, but you also know what Noah gets up to on the road. Jesse’s been witness to the girls that come and go from the tour bus.

he’s never said as much, but you know you’re responsible for the rift between the two of them. 

you never asked Jesse to pick a side, but it was clear-cut to him from the beginning. he’d been the one picking up the pieces after Noah shattered them enough times to know. 

“we’re not exclusive. he doesn’t owe me anything.”

“but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when he’s with someone else,” Jesse finishes.

“sometimes I thought about sleeping with someone else… to make him jealous,” you admit sheepishly. a hollow laugh escapes you. “but how can you make someone who doesn’t care, jealous?”

Jesse knows that, for the most part, Noah’s indifference is a hard-maintained act.

Noah Sebastian is a difficult man to get close to. he can have his dick inside you and still find a way to keep you at arm’s length. distance is something he demands because the thought of actually letting someone in terrifies him, and Noah Sebastian doesn’t do vulnerability.

he’s been burned one too many times for that. 

now he’s the one who does the burning. because if he ruins things first, if he keeps people craving him instead of needing them, then he never has to risk being the one left behind. even if he did care for you the way you wanted him to, Noah would rather let you think he felt nothing than admit you had the power to hurt him.

and maybe, after all the times he’d used and discarded you, only to come back and fall into your bed when you know he most likely hadn’t spent a single night since alone... maybe he didn’t deserve the grace you kept giving him.

“then don’t do it for him.” Jesse’s fingers brush your hair. “do it for you. if it’s gonna help you move on… then let someone show you how good it feels to be wanted without all the heartache.

“let it be me,” he murmurs softly. “let me show you how you’re supposed to be treated. not tonight,” Jesse breathes. not when your bed is scarcely cold and not with you in such a fragile emotional state. “let me take you out to dinner Saturday. wear that pretty sundress you wore to that barbecue Folio hosted last year. and I promise, I’ll clean up nice.”

you give him a small, tired smile at the memory. pale yellow with delicate straps and a corseted waist. the same one Noah had hitched around your hips shortly after his fingers had discovered that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“you always clean up nice, Jesse.”

Jesse must notice the flicker of nostalgia because he adds quietly, “we won’t bring him up. not once. it’ll just be us. now get some rest, I’ll be here in the morning.”

words you never hear Noah say….

your eyelids start to droop, and you nod, nuzzling your face into his chest. the rhythmic thumping of his heart against your cheek lulls you to sleep.

you never realized just how much you needed this, how much it hurt for the simple comfort of a warm body close to yours to be ripped away after being so intimate moments prior, but Jesse holds you like he knows exactly what you need.

you suppose after being the one you’ve called after countless late-night trysts, he does. 

Jesse’s taken to sleeping on your bedroom floor on nights like this, grabbing a pillow and the blanket off the back of your couch so he could be close if you needed him.

you hope he has no plans of leaving this bed tonight.

“you’re not gonna sneak out once I fall asleep, are you?” you mumble, fingers curling into his shirt. “please. I don’t want the bed to feel empty again.”

“okay,” Jesse caves almost immediately. “if you want me to stay, I will. sleep.”

you drift off with his hand stroking your hair.

when you open the door for your dinner date, Jesse is standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

he’s always been a little old-fashioned like that. maybe it’s leftover from his Southern upbringing, but he’s always been big on gestures and fluent in thoughtfulness.

he’s wearing a dark gray button-up with a few buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up and exposing a bit of his tattooed forearms, complete with dark wash jeans and black boots. 

he looks damn good, the bastard.

his own eyes rake over you appreciatively, taking in the way that your yellow sundress clings to your body just right, the hem brushing just above your knees. Jesse looks long enough for you to know he’s appreciative before consciously dragging his gaze back up to meet your eyes. he’s nothing if not a gentleman.

you feel better than you did when you’d worn it at that barbecue. like a princess. 

“those for me?” you ask.

Jesse’s smile spreads as he holds out the bouquet towards you.

it’s a lovely arrangement of wildflowers—daffodils and daisies and the small cornflower blue petals of a flower you don’t recognize—arranged in a bouquet that’s as bright and cheerful as your dress.

the dress isn’t the only thing that makes you feel like a princess. so does Jesse’s treatment of you.

“thought you might like them more than roses.”

your chest tightens. you’d mentioned once, ages ago, that roses were overrated and unjustifiably expensive; not that you’d expected him to remember. he’d apparently never forgotten. “they’re beautiful, Jess. thank you.”

“don’t hold a candle to you, though.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. 

“sweet talker.”

“it’s the truth, sweetheart,” he says simply.

you busy yourself with the flowers before he can see how easily he’s gotten to you, carrying them into the kitchen and setting them in a vase, enough to keep them fresh until you can properly care for them.

you grab your bag from the hook by the door, then step into the balmy night air with Jesse at your back. 

“so,” you ask. Jesse walks ahead and opens the passenger door for you, “where are we going?”

he flashes a vague, somewhat secretive smile in response. “it’s a surprise. you’ll see.” 

he lets you get settled inside and then shuts the door, rounding the truck and getting into the driver’s seat. it isn’t until he pulls into the parking lot that you realize exactly why he’d been so secretive.

“if he wanted to, he would.” 

you marvel at the sign as you pass underneath it, the new restaurant whose reservations have been booked solid since its grand opening. 

Jesse’s hand finds the small of your back as he ushers you inside ahead of him.

“Jesse,” you say, a little incredulous. “I mentioned this place forever ago.”

he just shrugs. “I remembered.” 

it’s altogether too much for a first date, let alone dinner. tinder dates in the past had bitched about less. 

the place is oozing with class. in a dimly lit corner, someone plays the piano while your server leads the two of you to a booth near the back, partially obscured by a partition. 

Jesse lets you slide into the booth first, then slips in beside you instead of taking the seat across from you.

the two of you are close enough that your knees brush his. he grins sheepishly. “I hope this is okay.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you tell him, and he visibly relaxes, resting his arm along the back of the seat. “you know, you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble—”

“don’t even start,” Jesse warns. “I hope you’re hungry.”

you nod. “I’ve been wanting to try their—”

“—carbonara, I know,” Jesse finishes your sentence. “it’s your favorite.” at your surprised look, he again shrugs a shoulder like it’s nothing. “remembered that, too.” 

you think you catch the faint hint of a flush on his cheeks.

“you really pay attention, don’t you?”

he gives a soft hum in response. “to the things that matter.”

butterflies stir to life in your stomach as you find yourself seeing him in a new light.

“I take it you’re ready to order?” he asks. “would you like to share a bottle of wine?” 

you nod, noting how attentive he is when it comes to ordering. something about the effortless way he’s making sure you’re taken care of without ever making it feel like you can’t take care of yourself is panty-droppingly attractive. 

“red or white, sweetheart?” Jesse tilts the drink menu towards the both of you, leaning in close enough that his breath flutters against your ear.

“hm?” you blush, lost in your thoughts.

he chuckles softly, amused by your reaction, and repeats himself. “red or white, darlin’?”

his fingers brush the bare skin of your thigh ever so slightly, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re sat by the ac vents.

“I trust your pick.”

“white then.” he places the order for a particular bottle, then turns his attention back to you. “I’m glad you agreed to this. even if it took me years to get you here,” he admits. “you’re worth every second of the wait.”

“Jesse…” you breathe.

“you don’t have to say anything.” his hand settles over top of yours. “just let yourself enjoy tonight.”

you interlace your fingers with his and squeeze his hand. “I really am glad I came.”

your server pours from the bottle of white for the both of you, and you clink your glasses together.

the wine is light, crisp, perfectly paired with the meal ahead.

“did I make the right choice?” Jesse observes you as you take your sip.

“perfect,” you nod. 

despite the introduction of such an intimate atmosphere, there never feels like there’s any pressure to be any way other than how you already are with each other. 

conversation is easy, comfortable, flowing without you having to force it. like it always has been. it’s like muscle memory, you don’t even have to think about it anymore. there’s comfort even in the silence. 

you talk like you’re sat on your bedroom floor, talking from the late hours of the night into early morning about anything and everything. 

Jesse’s an expert at getting you to come out of your shell, gentle in all the ways Noah is intense.

he makes you laugh, makes you feel seen and special, makes you forget everything outside this moment. that is, until your phone sounds.

a single text notification lights up the screen as a plate of steaming pasta is placed in front of you.

no other name but his would make your stomach drop like that and make you lose all appetite for your dinner.

Jesse sees it too. his jaw tightens, just slightly, so subtle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t looking, but he doesn’t comment. just takes a slow sip of wine, allowing you your space to do as you see fit. 

Noah wouldn’t be texting you this late unless he was trying to use you for a last-minute hook-up. it’s as if he has some sort of radar or sixth sense for when you’re spending time with someone else.

your fingers hover over the phone, the screen still glowing with Noah’s name.

Jesse doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it anyway. 

you deserve better than someone who only wants you when he knows he can’t have you.

<Noah> Miss that mouth of yours. You home?

your stomach twists. part arousal, part shame. 

how easy it would be to slip back into that familiar sin. one text reply and he’d be at your door, his hands everywhere, his voice murmuring all the wrong things in all the right ways.

but then you’re reminded of Jesse beside you. who took you to a restaurant you’d been wanting to try because you’d mentioned it once. 

Jesse, who doesn’t so much as steal a glance at your phone screen, doesn’t ask what it says, just waits patiently for you to decide.

you take a deep breath… and silence your phone.

your shaky smile gains confidence as you grin at Jesse and take a bite of your food... and moan softly without meaning to.

“that good, huh?”

“mhm… this is amazing,” you say, licking a bit of sauce from your lip.

Jesse’s eyes darken slightly. “yeah,” he murmurs. “it is.”

you get the feeling he’s not talking about the food so much as he’s talking about you.

your cheeks redden. 

“try some.” you avert your gaze back to your plate and lift a forkful to his lips without thinking. Jesse leans in to take a bite, not breaking eye contact the entire time, which only serves to make you more flustered. 

there’s a tension between you growing taut, and there’s proof in the way your heartbeat stumbles.

you end up getting a slice of cheesecake to share because he’d seen how your eyes lingered on the dessert menu a few seconds too long, and if the way you take turns alternating forkfuls is any indication of how sickeningly coupley you are in this moment, you are bound to come down with a toothache. 

it all just feels so… domestic that your heart pangs wildly because this… this is what you deserve.

it’s something you’ve always wanted, even if you haven’t always believed you could have it. you know you can’t, not with Noah.

but with Jesse, who would kiss away your tears instead of being the one to cause them…

who’d bring you flowers just because. who’d learn your favorite song and memorize how you take your coffee. who’d send you pictures of the little things that remind him of you. the sunset. a line in a book. 

the same Jesse who’d leave you love notes to find around the house. a post-it on the bathroom mirror. a slip of paper in the bagged lunch you’d taken to work. (that he made you.)

what would life be with someone who doesn’t leave you feeling empty afterward, but instead more fulfilled? 

Jesse’s eyes are so soft, so full of hope. 

“we don’t have to rush anything,” he says quietly. 

he always was good at reading you. or maybe it’s just that no one’s ever listened closely enough for you to know what it feels like to be seen.

“I’ve waited this long. I can wait for you to be ready.” 

you don’t know what’s wrong with you; you feel as if you’re broken.

because that’s the thing. Jesse is the type of guy who should get the girl, the one you bring home to Mom. he’s everything good and gentle and kind, and here you keep pining after a man who’s made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he’s capable of giving you is his… cock?

you shake your head. “we’re leaving this restaurant. you’re going to drive me home and walk me to my door, and I’m going to invite you in, and you’re going to say yes.”

if Jesse is surprised by your newfound resolve, he doesn’t show it. he regards you with open amusement, smirking. “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’ve slipped into the jacket he’s holding open for you, he’s already tipped generously and settled the bill before you can so much as reach for your wallet.

“I told you I’d take you out to dinner. that means it’s my treat,” he says. 

and when he’s stood outside your door, he waits for you to make the first move. 

he waits until your hands find his belt loops to tug him closer, and then he comes easily (like he always would for you), his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips.

his eyes search yours, as if needing to make sure you want this before it goes any further. 

the decision is yours—he’s made that abundantly clear. he’ll respect it. unlike Dylan from the dating apps, Jesse is under no illusion that paying for dinner equates to buying access to your body.

“are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask.

“do you want me to?” 

he knows he said he’d be there if it helped you move on. knows he’d take whatever piece of you you were ready to give.

still, a part of him can’t shake the nagging fear that he’s only a placeholder. a distraction meant to dull the ache Noah left behind. that maybe you don’t want him, not really, just to fill the void of the man who hurt you.

maybe this is too fast. maybe he should slow you down. maybe he should protect his own heart better than this… but the romantic in him screams that the risk is worth it.

“I want it to mean something,” Jesse whispers. “not just… because you’re hurting.” his hands slide up your back.

“you said you’d show me how it feels…”

he swallows hard, exhaling shakily through his nose. “yeah,” he breathes. “I did.”

your fingers tighten in his shirt. “well, I want to be something to someone for a change. I want to feel something real, even if it’s just for one night.”

Jesse rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. “if I had it my way, it wouldn’t be just one night. not with me.”

before you can find the words to answer, he’s kissing you. tentatively at first, giving you every chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when, if anything, you press closer, seeking him out—he deepens the kiss. 

his hands slide into your hair, cradling your face as his lips move over yours like he’s waited years for this (because he has).

he kisses you like you’re something to be cherished. like you’re some sort of precious masterpiece he can’t believe he gets to touch.

he swallows every sound you make like he could bottle it up for later.

god, you’d forgotten what it feels like to be truly, fully wanted. 

you’ve never been Noah’s first choice. merely an option. 

“tell you what’s going to happen,” Jesse murmurs. “we’re going to go inside, and I’m going to lay you on your bed. I’m going to take my time with you, make you come as many times as I want until I’m satisfied, without ever using my cock. in fact, I’m not going to come tonight.”

“but—” you’re about to protest with a pout when he presses his index finger to your mouth, silencing you. 

Jesse’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles kindly. “I’m going to take care of you and not the other way around.”

his chest is against your back now as he leans in closer to brush his lips over your neck, his voice low in your ear. “then, tomorrow morning, I’m going to make you breakfast.”

at this point, you’re fumbling uselessly with your house key, shaky hands struggling to jam it into the keyhole as you mentally curse the only thing that stands between you and the night ahead. 

you eventually give up and shove the key into Jesse’s hand.

he just chuckles, clearly amused by your eagerness. after he unlocks the door (with much more ease than you I might add), he scoops you up in one smooth motion, carrying you through the threshold and kicking the door shut behind him.  

the route to your bedroom is as familiar as his own, and he’s still laughing softly as he deposits you gently on the bed, bracing his forearms beside your head. 

he takes in the sight of you beneath him like a man starved.

his hands roam your body like he’s trying to map every dip and curve, his touch reverent.

he kisses you until you’re panting for breath, his mouth continuing on to your jaw and your neck before gently sucking on your pulse point.  

“god, I need you out of this dress,” he tells you, hands sliding down to the zipper.

“I thought you liked me in this dress,” you tease.

Jesse chuckles, his lips curving into an easy half-smile.  

he draws the zipper of your dress down slowly, his fingers grazing along your skin. 

“oh I do,” he murmurs, tugging the fabric gently over your head. “but I think I’d like you even better out of it. so…”

“so…” 

“what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? my fingers?” Jesse strums his index and his middle fingers over your clit as you gasp and push into his touch. “or my mouth?” his tongue proceeds to suck your arousal clean from the pads of his fingers. 

“do I really have to choose?”

“you’re right. you’ll get both. but you get to choose which you want first. so?…”

your hip hitches around his waist in answer, your heel bearing down on his back until Jesse is eye level with your glistening pussy. 

“mouth it is.” 

brown eyes lift to meet yours as if consciously drinking in the way you come undone in the wake of his hot, open mouth working its way up your inner thigh. his kisses inch closer while all the while falling short of where you truly want them, leaving you frustrated as you let out a soft whine of protest. 

the next time, his breath fans against your soaked underwear. the way he nuzzles his cheek just shy of your quivering cunt is proof that he hears you, even if he delights in making you squirm a little, the brush of his facial hair against your most sensitive skin only serving to stoke the fire in your core.

“you didn’t say you were going to be a tease,” you huff. 

“I told you I was going to take my time.” Jesse’s eyes sparkle. “tell me his version of foreplay wasn’t just two fingers scissoring you open and a little bit of lube.”

“actually—” 

Jesse has no interest in letting you finish that thought. his tongue renders you speechless as it drags through your folds in one long, drawn out lick that has your back arching off the bed and toward his mouth. 

evidently, he’s had enough of pretending he’s not just as eager to taste you as you are for him to. 

your hand finds its way into his hair, impatiently tugging his curls like it’ll urge him on, even though you’ve come to understand that he isn’t one to be rushed. this man wants to savor you.  

still, his hum rumbles through your core like a reward, even as he shows no signs of his patience wearing thin. 

each lick is slow, painfully so. deliberate circles of his tongue over your clit before dipping lower to taste you properly. 

his arms encircle your waist, keeping your hips secure no matter how much they want to shift in search of more. 

rest assured, he will not disappoint. 

it knocks the wind out of you when his lips well and truly seal around your clit. “ohh, Jess.” your head falls back against the mattress as he alternates sucking and lapping. 

you’re already trembling beneath him, fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure builds fast and hot in your belly with each flick of his tongue. 

“when’s the last time someone made you come without asking for anything in return, huh? just the simple pleasure of making you feel good,” Jesse croons. “you know, when I think of him getting to taste you, I get so fucking jealous. he doesn’t know what he has. you’re wasted on him.”

it’s as if the thought fuels him as he doubles his efforts, surging forward kissing and licking like a man on a mission to erase every memory of Noah from your body entirely. he won’t be content until his name is the only one on the tip of your tongue. 

“shit, Jesse, I’m gonna come,” you pant out breathily. 

“give it to me, baby. go ahead and come on my tongue. I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as the pleasure peaks. “that’s it,” his voice muffles against your core. 

Jesse milks your orgasm for all it’s worth, making sure to help you ride it out with soft laps of his tongue and gentle suction until every last shudder fades from your limbs.

when he finally lifts his mouth, he wipes the back of his hand across his lips and smirks, proud of himself.

“if you were mine, I’d spend every day of my life trying to be worthy,” Jesse murmurs, kissing your hip, then slipping a finger inside you.

“Jesse…” your breath hitches. the intrusion comes so soon after your orgasm. you’re still so sensitive, and he knows it, which is why he starts slow with just that one finger, curling it just right. 

that’s all it takes for you to become putty in his hands. 

putty whose face Jesse watches for every reaction like he’s memorizing what makes you feel good.  

“please.” it’s not long before you’re begging for more. 

he’s quick to add a second, stretching you gently as he leans down to kiss your stomach, his lips warm against your skin.

“I’d give you anything you want.”

Jesse’s fingers make a come-hither motion. slow, deep thrusts that curl upwards toward that sweet spot inside you and make your hips rock unconsciously into his hand.  

all the while, his kisses trail higher—up your stomach, your ribs, before he’s burying his face between your breasts, your heart hammering in your chest—and capturing one of your nipples between his lips and biting softly.

you gasp, your fingers in his hair peeling back his head to look up at you. 

“what about your cock?” you manage cheekily. 

his sharp exhale turns into a groan, but he shakes his head. “nice try, but no, honey, not tonight.”

your lip juts out in a pout, but Jesse wipes the sulk right off your face when he puts his mouth back on you whilst his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. 

your face heats at the realization that you’re already wound up again, sensitive and aching. 

“tonight is about you,” Jesse reiterates. “not taking anything for myself. not asking for anything in return.”

that’s exactly what hasn’t worked in the past. tonight needs to be different. he needs to be different. this isn’t about instant gratification.

this is about showing you how you deserve to be treated. 

“Jesse,” you pant, “you’re going to make me come again…”

“good,” he says matter-of-factly. if anything, the knowledge only makes him work harder for it…

your cunt clenches around his fingers and keeps them there, spasming around the length of them buried to the knuckle. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that blissed-out look on your face,” Jesse murmurs. “feels good, doesn’t it? letting yourself be taken care of for once?”

your moan is an affirmative as your second orgasm washes over you, hot and sweet. 

“come sit on my face,” Jesse pipes up. you haven’t even fully come down before he’s patting the bed and settling on his back beside you.

your cheeks burn. “but—” 

“I won’t be satisfied until you do,” he cuts you off. “not until you use me to make yourself feel good, so you might as well give me what I want and come sit on my face.”

you know Jesse well enough to know he means it, and anyway, it’s not like it’s not an untempting offer. 

you tentatively move to position yourself on all fours, but not before Jesse’s fingers dig into your hips, dragging you backwards on your knees until you’re straddling his shoulders. 

then Jesse pulls you down over top of him until your heat is right above his waiting mouth.

“there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

his hands squeeze the curve of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, and god, the first swipe of his tongue has your knees buckling, your hands finding his thighs as you double over.

the scratch of his facial hair is like nothing you’ve ever felt between your thighs. 

every sensation already feels like too much.

the pleasant burn of his scruff as he nuzzles you open. 

the press of his nose nudging against your clit and his tongue following in its place. parting your folds, dipping into your entrance, lapping enthusiastically at your clit…

you can’t help the way you gush, your arousal surely drenching his face as he feasts from behind. 

the new angle has you whimpering, unable to still your restless hips. Jesse flattens his tongue for you, and you ride it, chasing the wet glide of it along your clit. you don’t try to hide your moans as you edge closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night, his saliva dripping from your folds. you grow more and more uninhibited, shameless in your grinding against his mouth, and Jesse increasingly pleased when it becomes evident that you struggle to hold yourself up as you ride out the height of your orgasm against his tongue, your knees going weak. 

what a sight he makes. his scruff drenched, his eyes sparkling as he licks his lips, and you completely oblivious as you now paw at the bulge in his pants from your seat on his chest. 

“Jesse,” you whine, “what if I just sucked you off?” 

his cock twitches against your cheek where it nuzzles against him. 

Jesse chuckles, cupping your chin with his palm and turning your head to look back at him. “I meant what I said.”

“just a taste?”

“as hard as it is to say no to you, I’ve got to.” 

“not too hard, apparently,” you huff. “doesn’t it hurt?”

his hard-on strains prominently against his jeans. seeing him so affected just from giving you pleasure makes your mouth water and stirs you to hunger. 

“a cold shower will take care of it,” he tells you. “thank you for your concern.” he presses a kiss to the skin of your back, “give me five minutes and I’ll be all yours again,” then disentangles himself from you before rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom, and he assumes that’s the end of it. 

the sound of running water follows moments later. as does a muffled curse from behind the closed door, probably because the cold water is doing its job. 

a part of you feels guilty. here he is, being all noble, and all you can think about is how badly you want him inside you.

not guilty enough, apparently. or at any rate not enough to keep from propping yourself against the doorway, fully bare as you enjoy the view before you.

Jesse’s back is mostly to you, water from the showerhead sluicing down the lines of his chest. it’s the body of a touring musician, someone who’s spent years lugging amps and guitars, with just enough muscle to show for it. a body shaped by life on the road rather than in the gym. 

there’s an irresistible softness to him that is your catnip. plushness that yields underneath your hands. 

you bite your lip, imagining what it would be like to have full rein to touch him like this. to hug your arms around his middle, to leave little love bites where only you would see. to trace the lines of his tattoos. 

he hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting his head under the icy spray, doing his damndest to try and cool off.

your hands come up to his shoulders as you rub circles with your loofah over his back.

“you’re playing dirty,” he murmurs, not turning around yet. 

your hands slide down his chest, your body pressing flush against his back. your hardened nipples prod him until he can no longer ignore their presence. 

“I can’t take a shower?” you ask, faking innocence.

“is that what you’re doing?” 

Jesse’s erection stirs to life more insistent than before, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together at the sight of it, delightfully fat with a slight curve you can almost feel hit all the right spots already. a cock made for the taking. 

you reach around him and turn the water hotter, the beginnings of steam fogging up the glass.

he finally turns to look at you, water dripping from his lashes. his eyes drop to where water beads on your own skin before snapping back up to your face with visible effort.

you play coy even as the length of him twitches, drawing attention to the prominent vein along his shaft. 

“do me?” you press the loofah into his hand. 

he stares at the loofah like it’s a loaded weapon. “minx,” he finally murmurs, not unaffectionately. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

he lathers the loofah with your body wash before running it over your shoulders, down your arms, faltering when he comes to your breasts. 

no answer. 

he drags the loofah lower with painstaking slowness, settling just under your belly button. 

“can you get my back?” you reply instead. 

Jesse breathes a sigh of relief, only to discover the supposed act of mercy is anything but. 

your plans are far more nefarious than he could’ve suspected… because the moment you turn your back to him, you back your hips into his. 

his curved cock slots perfectly between your soaped up thighs, the loofah slipping from his hand and dropping to the floor.

it isn’t hard to imagine how good even the smallest bit of friction must feel for him. the plush of your thighs alone seems like a cruel test of his self-control after being so hard, for so long, with lord knows how much precum leaked in his boxers. 

you’re overcome by the overwhelming need to thank him for his patience.

Jesse’s breath hitches, his hips rutting against you based on pure instinct. he braces one hand on the tile in front of you, the other on your hip. “fuck.” his forehead drops to your shoulder. “you’re not making this easy.”

his hips continue to move almost imperceptibly, committing small acts of rebellion against his better judgment. 

Jesse exhales shakily in your ear. 

“why waste a perfectly hard cock?” you kiss the underside of his chin. “when there’s perfectly needy pussy that’s begging for it?”

Jesse’s eyes squeeze shut. 

for a little while, it’s bliss. 

his cock head repeatedly nudging into your clit. the weight of it against you a reminder of just how easy it would be for him to sink inside and satisfy you. 

but he stays true to his word, showing the discipline you wish he was not capable of in this moment as his hand takes over. he plays your clit like he plays his six-string, pushing you over the edge with a dexterity that comes naturally to him given his line of work. 

he supports your weight when you all but collapse, allowing you to go boneless in his arms as he holds you upright with an arm encircling your waist and his other hand curled inside your thigh. you melt against his shoulder, protesting when his cock slips free of your folds, twitching in air. 

you can’t help but feel like a dog being taken away from its favourite toy when it wasn’t done playing. “Jesse…” you whine. 

“we should slow down.” his chest is heaving. his cock is flushed and swollen, precum beading at the tip. 

“it doesn’t make you him.” 

you know it’s what he’s thinking. hell, you can practically see the gears in his head turning as you search his face, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. 

he’s harder on himself than you would ever be.

“I can’t do the whole pretending this doesn’t mean anything in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you say.

“I know. it’s just—if I let this happen tonight,” he adds, lower, “I don’t get to pretend I’m not already in deep. and I don’t think you’re there with me right now.”

and that’s the thing about Jesse… he cares about you in ways Noah never did. enough to stop when he wants to keep going. enough to put your feelings ahead of his own.

“I want to get there,” you say quietly. “maybe I’m not where you are yet, but I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

“you say things like that, and I can’t deny you anything,” Jesse sighs. “which is exactly why I need you to go to bed,” he adds, “before I change my mind.” 

a sinking feeling takes root in your stomach when you wake to an empty bed. 

white hot panic rolls over you in waves of déjà vu. it’s all too familiar. too reminiscent of countless mornings spent alone.

did he leave?

the faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen says otherwise. 

you pursue the sound in your bare feet, following the hallway, and there he is. 

Jesse, in all his morning glory, naked except for a pair of boxer briefs. his hair sticks up in all directions like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into the kitchen, spatula in his hand as he flips pancakes. a pair of round glasses sits crooked on his nose, atop the ever-present lines and shadows under his eyes. 

they persist no matter how many hours he’s gotten. 

he might not be considered conventionally attractive, but you’ve always thought him handsome. here in your kitchen the morning after, he’s absolutely devastating.

he glances up and immediately brightens when he sees you. the ball of nerves that had drawn taut in your stomach unravels so quickly it’s almost as if it was never there.

“hey,” he greets, “you weren’t supposed to be up yet.”

I needed to make sure you were still here. the words stay lodged somewhere behind your ribs. “I smelled food,” you say instead. 

“you’re supposed to be in bed. you’re ruining the whole plan,” Jesse chastises playfully. “go. back to bed. I’ll bring it to you.” 

he redirects you with his hands on your shoulders, and you trot obediently back the way you came, the happiness bubbling full to overflowing with every step. 

the bed is rumpled, still warm when you slip back under the covers. for once, you don’t feel the need to bundle the sheets and purge the remnants of your night. instead you breathe in the scent of Jesse left on the pillow on his side of the bed and let it soothe you.

true to his word, he had stayed. your heart could burst.

from the kitchen, you can hear him moving. soft clinks of plates and utensils, the fridge door opening and closing,... footsteps that make their way to the bedroom.

“okay, don’t laugh.” Jesse proudly presents you with a tray that holds a glass of orange juice, pancakes with goofy little fruit faces, and a small vase with a handful of the wildflowers from your date the night prior.

“why would I? this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say. “I want to wake up to this every Sunday.”

“that can be arranged.”

“I’m serious.”

“so am I.”

“okay,” you whisper, trying to mask the way the words make your stomach swoop like the sudden drop of a rollercoaster.

“okay.”

you eat side by side for a few moments in silence, Jesse stealing pieces of fruit from your plate. he has his own, but apparently he only deigned to give yours the special treatment. 

“hey!” you protest weakly as he snatches yet another blueberry.

“payment for my labor,” he teases.

your phone buzzes—the groupchat checking in—and when you open your messages, Noah’s text sits just below the other text thread at the top as if it’s mocking you. 

your thumb hovers over his contact before finally settling on the block button. Jesse has made it impossible to ignore what you’ve been settling for, and you owe it to yourself, and to Jesse, to stop accepting less than you deserve.

no more settling.

you don’t even realize Jesse had asked you a question. “hey,” he murmurs, attuned to you as always, “you okay?”

you look down at the phone in your hand, then at the breakfast he so kindly made you, then back at him.

“yeah,” you whisper, “I’m okay,” and you mean it. 

“where’d you go just now?”

you unlock your phone and hand it over.

it takes a moment for Jesse to register that you’ve blocked his (ex?) best friend’s number.

“you didn’t have to do that for me,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t.” you pull the blanket over your shoulders tighter around yourself. “I did it for me.”

you think about all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, only to wake up the following morning alone. all the unanswered texts. the careful pretending that you were okay with casual when every piece of evidence that he didn’t care about you like you cared about him hollowed you out a little more.

you did it for that version of yourself.

“I’m proud of you,” Jesse tells you.

if you’re being honest, so are you.

it was about time you were the one closing the door and the one walking out, not the one being walked out on. the keeper of your own peace and the champion of your heart.

you hum thoughtfully. “where do we go from here?”

“I dunno. lazy Sunday… I was thinking the couch… unless you have plans.”

you laugh and tuck yourself into Jesse’s side. 

“you are my plans.”

you hug your knees to your chest, your head resting on your arm as you watch Noah gather his things. clothes haphazardly shed around the room, wallet, keys, his phone on your dresser,.... he balances on one leg as he tugs his pants back over his boxers.

you try—unsuccessfully—to push down the flare of attraction you feel in your core as his shirtless form bends to grab his tank. his shoulders are broader than they used to be, his recent gains evidenced in the way muscle shifts under his skin as he moves. it’s unfair, really—how good he looks. almost as unfair as the way he’d peeled that same tank top off earlier, effortless and practiced in that way fuckboys somehow perfect.

he can’t help but smirk when he notices you looking. “you’re staring,” Noah says lowly, tugging his zipper up.

“can you blame me for enjoying the view?”

he grins and leans in to graze his lips across your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin a little more than playfully as he murmurs into your ear, “you always make this part harder than it needs to be.”

“then why go? you could always stay…”

Noah sighs, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. if you didn’t know him better, you’d almost think he regrets it, but this conversation always ends the same way, the two of you stuck in the same argument on repeat every time he has to leave. “you know why.”

and you do. this was supposed to be casual. no strings and no feelings.

except he just uses it as a shield. an excuse not to have to deal with the aftermath. 

you wrap your arms tighter around yourself, like you can hold in whatever is cracking open inside your chest. 

you told yourself you could handle it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

he never stayed. he never held you until you fell asleep. never cleaned you up or gave you soft words of affirmation. there was only ever the sound of the door closing behind him.

it never felt like you were more than a readily available way to blow off steam, a distraction. it was never about being intimate but about needing a body. you’re not special. you’re only one of countless girls Noah could choose from, and they’d all fall into bed with him without a second thought. 

Noah doesn’t so much as spare a glance back over his shoulder before he’s out the door, and that about sums up the state of your relationship. or lack thereof. 

a single, solitary tear falls down your cheek, and you stay, unmoving, until you can finally muster the energy to force yourself up and into the bathroom.

when you look at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognize the sad, broken person staring back at you. the circles under your eyes seem to have gotten darker. your hair is a disheveled mess, and your lips look bitten raw from where Noah attacked them earlier.

you turn on the water and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down your body.

it doesn’t make you feel any less dirty.

you could scrub yourself raw, and you would still be able to feel his touch on your skin. that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is knowing you’ll keep coming back for more. 

you hate yourself for it. hate the way your knees go weak whenever he looks at you with those doe eyes of his. how he could ruin you without even trying. most of all, you hate the way your body betrays you so easily, how even a single touch from him sets every nerve alight.

he’s like a drug of the most dangerous kind, your addiction, and you’re hooked.

you hate that you’d let him use you, and you have, over and over again. hate that you still want him so badly, that a part of you will always crave him no matter how badly you get hurt. and you hate the fact that the memory of him is going to linger on your skin for days, and the only thing you can do is cling to the sheets and pillows and the traces of his scent left behind.

you hate that even as he hurts you, you still love him.

if Noah called tomorrow, you’d answer. if he showed up at your door, you’d let him in without hesitation.

you love him too much to learn otherwise.

you check the time. 1 am.

you’re dialing Jesse’s number before you can think too hard about it. he is, after all, the one person who’s consistently had your back through everything, even if it’s complicated by his years-long friendship with Noah. Jesse had never minced words about his disapproval of how Noah treated you and the fact that it made him an ass, not when they were living together as roommates and not now when he’s since moved out, still always quick to defend your honor and forever on your side, his best friend be damned.

what you haven’t realized is that Jesse’s fierce protectiveness stems not just from platonic concern, but from feelings he harbors for you that you’re somehow shockingly dense about.

it only takes three rings before you hear a sleepy “hello?” on the other end of the line, and you suddenly feel guilty for waking him, but as he clears his throat, you can already picture him pushing himself up to lean against the headboard, his curls a mess. it’s too late now.

even just the thought of what you’d called to get off your chest has you sniffling again, tears trailing down your cheeks. “Noah just left,” you manage to get out amid sniffles.

the fatigue in Jesse’s voice vanishes in an instant, replaced by worry. he knows you all too well, and he knows how this goes. you didn’t call just to tell him that. you’re upset, and he’s the only person you could think to call. the only one who gets it.

he sighs softly on the other end, and you hear the sounds of him getting up and shuffling around, throwing on a sweatshirt.

you imagine him pacing in the hall, a moment’s notice from being on his way to you as he asks quietly, “are you okay? do you need me to come over?”

“I’m a mess,” you say, like that should be reason enough for him not to.

Jesse scoffs quietly. “don’t be an idiot. I’m coming over.”

the line goes quiet for a few seconds, and you know he’s slipping on his sneakers and grabbing his truck keys. “I’ll be there in twenty. hang tight, alright? I’m on my way.”

when he lets himself in, you’re wrestling with the sheets, stripping your bed frustratedly. Jesse appears in the doorway, and you just say sadly, “they smell like him,” before he’s bundling them in his arms and into the laundry.

the two of you remake your bed in silence with a fresh set of bedding from your linen closet. a familiar dance.

Jesse doesn’t say anything about the good set of underwear you’d worn specifically for Noah shed on the floor, or the faint red marks across your throat, like someone had been nipping at your skin.

“I hate his cologne,” you say bitterly, collapsing on your back into the mattress. 

what you hate even more is how it makes you want to take a bite out of Noah every time. how it somehow gets into everything. sheets, pillows, even rubs off on your clothes. 

Jesse snorts at that, making you smile faintly. 

the two of you lie side by side, his shoulder brushing yours as he stares up at your bedroom ceiling. he turns his head to study you for a moment. 

it hurts him to see you this way. to see you treated this way.

“you love that overpriced bullshit cologne of his.”

you huff softly at that, not quite landing a sharp jab to his ribs with your elbow. Jesse snickers. he catches your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

he looks back over at you, and when you meet his eyes, the expression on his face is so unbearably soft that it makes your chest ache. he brings your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that makes you shiver.

“I hate it… I hate that I love it. that I love him,” you admit quietly.

“yeah,” Jesse murmurs sadly. “I know.”

he’s probably the only one in the world who really does. 

he’s been your friend and your confidante. he knows everything. every detail, every late-night confession, every time you’ve sworn you were done, only to fall right back into the same cycle. he knows how deeply you crave a man who has only ever known how to use you.

for Jesse, your suffering at the hands of his so-called best friend has been something of a personal torment, forced to watch Noah break your heart while being silently in love with you for years. like being stuck in a time loop where he’s doomed to witness an inevitable car crash he can’t derail. over and over again. 

“he’s never going to love me back.”

you’re past the point of tears now. it’s a numb sort of melancholy, dwelling on this gaping hole in your chest, but it demands to be felt.

you feel Jesse’s hand leave yours as he rolls over onto his side, pulling you gently against him and into the crook of his neck.

you’ve spent many a night clinging to him like this, crying yourself to sleep on his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping around your back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I deserve better.”

“damn right you do.”

“why couldn’t I love someone else? anyone else? someone easy… someone who’d love me back with their whole heart… someone like you.” you frown.

you hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud.

Jesse swallows hard around the lump in his throat and closes his eyes. hearing you say that hurts, because he’d give you the damn world if you let him, cherish you in a way no one else has, but you remain stuck on someone who fails to recognize your worth. and the heart wants what it wants.

none of it matters if you don’t choose him.

“it won’t always be like this.” he doesn’t say what he’s thinking. that you’re never going to get over Noah if you keep falling back into bed with him. “you should get some sleep.”

“stay the night?”

he knows he shouldn’t, but when it’s you asking, he’d find a way to lasso the moon.

“yeah,” Jesse agrees. “...what is it anyway?” 

“what’s what?” you mumble, already drifting.

he pulls the blanket over your shoulders. “...why him? why do you keep going back? what is it about him?”

his voice isn’t angry, just tired, like he’s worn down from watching you break over and over.

“would you believe me if I said his massive di—”

Jesse groans and immediately clamps a hand over your mouth, shooting you a ‘be serious’ look.

besides, live with someone long enough and chances are you’ve seen them naked. he isn’t exactly packing anything that you can’t get elsewhere.

“you’re ridiculous. and I’ve seen his dick. does it have magical properties? try again.”

“fuck if I know. we want what we can’t have, right?”

isn’t that the truth? Jesse’s heart constricts painfully.

“you’re worth so much more than crumbs, y’know,” he murmurs quietly, voice full of emotion. you deserve the whole damn bakery.

knowing he’s right isn’t the problem. try telling that to the traitor in your chest.

“do you talk about me?”

“what do you mean?” Jesse asks cautiously, though he suspects he knows. 

“you and Noah… does my name ever come up?”

there’s a flicker of guilt on Jesse’s face as he shifts uncomfortably. “yeah… sometimes,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. 

“do I want to know? …nevermind.” you drop it, not giving him a chance to elaborate. you know you’re putting him in a tough position. “I know I’m not the only one.”

Jesse winces, and his silence says more than enough. you know you have no right to be jealous, but you also know what Noah gets up to on the road. Jesse’s been witness to the girls that come and go from the tour bus.

he’s never said as much, but you know you’re responsible for the rift between the two of them. 

you never asked Jesse to pick a side, but it was clear-cut to him from the beginning. he’d been the one picking up the pieces after Noah shattered them enough times to know. 

“we’re not exclusive. he doesn’t owe me anything.”

“but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when he’s with someone else,” Jesse finishes.

“sometimes I thought about sleeping with someone else… to make him jealous,” you admit sheepishly. a hollow laugh escapes you. “but how can you make someone who doesn’t care, jealous?”

Jesse knows that, for the most part, Noah’s indifference is a hard-maintained act.

Noah Sebastian is a difficult man to get close to. he can have his dick inside you and still find a way to keep you at arm’s length. distance is something he demands because the thought of actually letting someone in terrifies him, and Noah Sebastian doesn’t do vulnerability.

he’s been burned one too many times for that. 

now he’s the one who does the burning. because if he ruins things first, if he keeps people craving him instead of needing them, then he never has to risk being the one left behind. even if he did care for you the way you wanted him to, Noah would rather let you think he felt nothing than admit you had the power to hurt him.

and maybe, after all the times he’d used and discarded you, only to come back and fall into your bed when you know he most likely hadn’t spent a single night since alone... maybe he didn’t deserve the grace you kept giving him.

“then don’t do it for him.” Jesse’s fingers brush your hair. “do it for you. if it’s gonna help you move on… then let someone show you how good it feels to be wanted without all the heartache.

“let it be me,” he murmurs softly. “let me show you how you’re supposed to be treated. not tonight,” Jesse breathes. not when your bed is scarcely cold and not with you in such a fragile emotional state. “let me take you out to dinner Saturday. wear that pretty sundress you wore to that barbecue Folio hosted last year. and I promise, I’ll clean up nice.”

you give him a small, tired smile at the memory. pale yellow with delicate straps and a corseted waist. the same one Noah had hitched around your hips shortly after his fingers had discovered that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“you always clean up nice, Jesse.”

Jesse must notice the flicker of nostalgia because he adds quietly, “we won’t bring him up. not once. it’ll just be us. now get some rest, I’ll be here in the morning.”

words you never hear Noah say….

your eyelids start to droop, and you nod, nuzzling your face into his chest. the rhythmic thumping of his heart against your cheek lulls you to sleep.

you never realized just how much you needed this, how much it hurt for the simple comfort of a warm body close to yours to be ripped away after being so intimate moments prior, but Jesse holds you like he knows exactly what you need.

you suppose after being the one you’ve called after countless late-night trysts, he does. 

Jesse’s taken to sleeping on your bedroom floor on nights like this, grabbing a pillow and the blanket off the back of your couch so he could be close if you needed him.

you hope he has no plans of leaving this bed tonight.

“you’re not gonna sneak out once I fall asleep, are you?” you mumble, fingers curling into his shirt. “please. I don’t want the bed to feel empty again.”

“okay,” Jesse caves almost immediately. “if you want me to stay, I will. sleep.”

you drift off with his hand stroking your hair.

when you open the door for your dinner date, Jesse is standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

he’s always been a little old-fashioned like that. maybe it’s leftover from his Southern upbringing, but he’s always been big on gestures and fluent in thoughtfulness.

he’s wearing a dark gray button-up with a few buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up and exposing a bit of his tattooed forearms, complete with dark wash jeans and black boots. 

he looks damn good, the bastard.

his own eyes rake over you appreciatively, taking in the way that your yellow sundress clings to your body just right, the hem brushing just above your knees. Jesse looks long enough for you to know he’s appreciative before consciously dragging his gaze back up to meet your eyes. he’s nothing if not a gentleman.

you feel better than you did when you’d worn it at that barbecue. like a princess. 

“those for me?” you ask.

Jesse’s smile spreads as he holds out the bouquet towards you.

it’s a lovely arrangement of wildflowers—daffodils and daisies and the small cornflower blue petals of a flower you don’t recognize—arranged in a bouquet that’s as bright and cheerful as your dress.

the dress isn’t the only thing that makes you feel like a princess. so does Jesse’s treatment of you.

“thought you might like them more than roses.”

your chest tightens. you’d mentioned once, ages ago, that roses were overrated and unjustifiably expensive; not that you’d expected him to remember. he’d apparently never forgotten. “they’re beautiful, Jess. thank you.”

“don’t hold a candle to you, though.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. 

“sweet talker.”

“it’s the truth, sweetheart,” he says simply.

you busy yourself with the flowers before he can see how easily he’s gotten to you, carrying them into the kitchen and setting them in a vase, enough to keep them fresh until you can properly care for them.

you grab your bag from the hook by the door, then step into the balmy night air with Jesse at your back. 

“so,” you ask. Jesse walks ahead and opens the passenger door for you, “where are we going?”

he flashes a vague, somewhat secretive smile in response. “it’s a surprise. you’ll see.” 

he lets you get settled inside and then shuts the door, rounding the truck and getting into the driver’s seat. it isn’t until he pulls into the parking lot that you realize exactly why he’d been so secretive.

“if he wanted to, he would.” 

you marvel at the sign as you pass underneath it, the new restaurant whose reservations have been booked solid since its grand opening. 

Jesse’s hand finds the small of your back as he ushers you inside ahead of him.

“Jesse,” you say, a little incredulous. “I mentioned this place forever ago.”

he just shrugs. “I remembered.” 

it’s altogether too much for a first date, let alone dinner. tinder dates in the past had bitched about less. 

the place is oozing with class. in a dimly lit corner, someone plays the piano while your server leads the two of you to a booth near the back, partially obscured by a partition. 

Jesse lets you slide into the booth first, then slips in beside you instead of taking the seat across from you.

the two of you are close enough that your knees brush his. he grins sheepishly. “I hope this is okay.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you tell him, and he visibly relaxes, resting his arm along the back of the seat. “you know, you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble—”

“don’t even start,” Jesse warns. “I hope you’re hungry.”

you nod. “I’ve been wanting to try their—”

“—carbonara, I know,” Jesse finishes your sentence. “it’s your favorite.” at your surprised look, he again shrugs a shoulder like it’s nothing. “remembered that, too.” 

you think you catch the faint hint of a flush on his cheeks.

“you really pay attention, don’t you?”

he gives a soft hum in response. “to the things that matter.”

butterflies stir to life in your stomach as you find yourself seeing him in a new light.

“I take it you’re ready to order?” he asks. “would you like to share a bottle of wine?” 

you nod, noting how attentive he is when it comes to ordering. something about the effortless way he’s making sure you’re taken care of without ever making it feel like you can’t take care of yourself is panty-droppingly attractive. 

“red or white, sweetheart?” Jesse tilts the drink menu towards the both of you, leaning in close enough that his breath flutters against your ear.

“hm?” you blush, lost in your thoughts.

he chuckles softly, amused by your reaction, and repeats himself. “red or white, darlin’?”

his fingers brush the bare skin of your thigh ever so slightly, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re sat by the ac vents.

“I trust your pick.”

“white then.” he places the order for a particular bottle, then turns his attention back to you. “I’m glad you agreed to this. even if it took me years to get you here,” he admits. “you’re worth every second of the wait.”

“Jesse…” you breathe.

“you don’t have to say anything.” his hand settles over top of yours. “just let yourself enjoy tonight.”

you interlace your fingers with his and squeeze his hand. “I really am glad I came.”

your server pours from the bottle of white for the both of you, and you clink your glasses together.

the wine is light, crisp, perfectly paired with the meal ahead.

“did I make the right choice?” Jesse observes you as you take your sip.

“perfect,” you nod. 

despite the introduction of such an intimate atmosphere, there never feels like there’s any pressure to be any way other than how you already are with each other. 

conversation is easy, comfortable, flowing without you having to force it. like it always has been. it’s like muscle memory, you don’t even have to think about it anymore. there’s comfort even in the silence. 

you talk like you’re sat on your bedroom floor, talking from the late hours of the night into early morning about anything and everything. 

Jesse’s an expert at getting you to come out of your shell, gentle in all the ways Noah is intense.

he makes you laugh, makes you feel seen and special, makes you forget everything outside this moment. that is, until your phone sounds.

a single text notification lights up the screen as a plate of steaming pasta is placed in front of you.

no other name but his would make your stomach drop like that and make you lose all appetite for your dinner.

Jesse sees it too. his jaw tightens, just slightly, so subtle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t looking, but he doesn’t comment. just takes a slow sip of wine, allowing you your space to do as you see fit. 

Noah wouldn’t be texting you this late unless he was trying to use you for a last-minute hook-up. it’s as if he has some sort of radar or sixth sense for when you’re spending time with someone else.

your fingers hover over the phone, the screen still glowing with Noah’s name.

Jesse doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it anyway. 

you deserve better than someone who only wants you when he knows he can’t have you.

<Noah> Miss that mouth of yours. You home?

your stomach twists. part arousal, part shame. 

how easy it would be to slip back into that familiar sin. one text reply and he’d be at your door, his hands everywhere, his voice murmuring all the wrong things in all the right ways.

but then you’re reminded of Jesse beside you. who took you to a restaurant you’d been wanting to try because you’d mentioned it once. 

Jesse, who doesn’t so much as steal a glance at your phone screen, doesn’t ask what it says, just waits patiently for you to decide.

you take a deep breath… and silence your phone.

your shaky smile gains confidence as you grin at Jesse and take a bite of your food... and moan softly without meaning to.

“that good, huh?”

“mhm… this is amazing,” you say, licking a bit of sauce from your lip.

Jesse’s eyes darken slightly. “yeah,” he murmurs. “it is.”

you get the feeling he’s not talking about the food so much as he’s talking about you.

your cheeks redden. 

“try some.” you avert your gaze back to your plate and lift a forkful to his lips without thinking. Jesse leans in to take a bite, not breaking eye contact the entire time, which only serves to make you more flustered. 

there’s a tension between you growing taut, and there’s proof in the way your heartbeat stumbles.

you end up getting a slice of cheesecake to share because he’d seen how your eyes lingered on the dessert menu a few seconds too long, and if the way you take turns alternating forkfuls is any indication of how sickeningly coupley you are in this moment, you are bound to come down with a toothache. 

it all just feels so… domestic that your heart pangs wildly because this… this is what you deserve.

it’s something you’ve always wanted, even if you haven’t always believed you could have it. you know you can’t, not with Noah.

but with Jesse, who would kiss away your tears instead of being the one to cause them…

who’d bring you flowers just because. who’d learn your favorite song and memorize how you take your coffee. who’d send you pictures of the little things that remind him of you. the sunset. a line in a book. 

the same Jesse who’d leave you love notes to find around the house. a post-it on the bathroom mirror. a slip of paper in the bagged lunch you’d taken to work. (that he made you.)

what would life be with someone who doesn’t leave you feeling empty afterward, but instead more fulfilled? 

Jesse’s eyes are so soft, so full of hope. 

“we don’t have to rush anything,” he says quietly. 

he always was good at reading you. or maybe it’s just that no one’s ever listened closely enough for you to know what it feels like to be seen.

“I’ve waited this long. I can wait for you to be ready.” 

you don’t know what’s wrong with you; you feel as if you’re broken.

because that’s the thing. Jesse is the type of guy who should get the girl, the one you bring home to Mom. he’s everything good and gentle and kind, and here you keep pining after a man who’s made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he’s capable of giving you is his… cock?

you shake your head. “we’re leaving this restaurant. you’re going to drive me home and walk me to my door, and I’m going to invite you in, and you’re going to say yes.”

if Jesse is surprised by your newfound resolve, he doesn’t show it. he regards you with open amusement, smirking. “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’ve slipped into the jacket he’s holding open for you, he’s already tipped generously and settled the bill before you can so much as reach for your wallet.

“I told you I’d take you out to dinner. that means it’s my treat,” he says. 

and when he’s stood outside your door, he waits for you to make the first move. 

he waits until your hands find his belt loops to tug him closer, and then he comes easily (like he always would for you), his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips.

his eyes search yours, as if needing to make sure you want this before it goes any further. 

the decision is yours—he’s made that abundantly clear. he’ll respect it. unlike Dylan from the dating apps, Jesse is under no illusion that paying for dinner equates to buying access to your body.

“are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask.

“do you want me to?” 

he knows he said he’d be there if it helped you move on. knows he’d take whatever piece of you you were ready to give.

still, a part of him can’t shake the nagging fear that he’s only a placeholder. a distraction meant to dull the ache Noah left behind. that maybe you don’t want him, not really, just to fill the void of the man who hurt you.

maybe this is too fast. maybe he should slow you down. maybe he should protect his own heart better than this… but the romantic in him screams that the risk is worth it.

“I want it to mean something,” Jesse whispers. “not just… because you’re hurting.” his hands slide up your back.

“you said you’d show me how it feels…”

he swallows hard, exhaling shakily through his nose. “yeah,” he breathes. “I did.”

your fingers tighten in his shirt. “well, I want to be something to someone for a change. I want to feel something real, even if it’s just for one night.”

Jesse rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. “if I had it my way, it wouldn’t be just one night. not with me.”

before you can find the words to answer, he’s kissing you. tentatively at first, giving you every chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when, if anything, you press closer, seeking him out—he deepens the kiss. 

his hands slide into your hair, cradling your face as his lips move over yours like he’s waited years for this (because he has).

he kisses you like you’re something to be cherished. like you’re some sort of precious masterpiece he can’t believe he gets to touch.

he swallows every sound you make like he could bottle it up for later.

god, you’d forgotten what it feels like to be truly, fully wanted. 

you’ve never been Noah’s first choice. merely an option. 

“tell you what’s going to happen,” Jesse murmurs. “we’re going to go inside, and I’m going to lay you on your bed. I’m going to take my time with you, make you come as many times as I want until I’m satisfied, without ever using my cock. in fact, I’m not going to come tonight.”

“but—” you’re about to protest with a pout when he presses his index finger to your mouth, silencing you. 

Jesse’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles kindly. “I’m going to take care of you and not the other way around.”

his chest is against your back now as he leans in closer to brush his lips over your neck, his voice low in your ear. “then, tomorrow morning, I’m going to make you breakfast.”

at this point, you’re fumbling uselessly with your house key, shaky hands struggling to jam it into the keyhole as you mentally curse the only thing that stands between you and the night ahead. 

you eventually give up and shove the key into Jesse’s hand.

he just chuckles, clearly amused by your eagerness. after he unlocks the door (with much more ease than you I might add), he scoops you up in one smooth motion, carrying you through the threshold and kicking the door shut behind him.  

the route to your bedroom is as familiar as his own, and he’s still laughing softly as he deposits you gently on the bed, bracing his forearms beside your head. 

he takes in the sight of you beneath him like a man starved.

his hands roam your body like he’s trying to map every dip and curve, his touch reverent.

he kisses you until you’re panting for breath, his mouth continuing on to your jaw and your neck before gently sucking on your pulse point.  

“god, I need you out of this dress,” he tells you, hands sliding down to the zipper.

“I thought you liked me in this dress,” you tease.

Jesse chuckles, his lips curving into an easy half-smile.  

he draws the zipper of your dress down slowly, his fingers grazing along your skin. 

“oh I do,” he murmurs, tugging the fabric gently over your head. “but I think I’d like you even better out of it. so…”

“so…” 

“what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? my fingers?” Jesse strums his index and his middle fingers over your clit as you gasp and push into his touch. “or my mouth?” his tongue proceeds to suck your arousal clean from the pads of his fingers. 

“do I really have to choose?”

“you’re right. you’ll get both. but you get to choose which you want first. so?…”

your hip hitches around his waist in answer, your heel bearing down on his back until Jesse is eye level with your glistening pussy. 

“mouth it is.” 

brown eyes lift to meet yours as if consciously drinking in the way you come undone in the wake of his hot, open mouth working its way up your inner thigh. his kisses inch closer while all the while falling short of where you truly want them, leaving you frustrated as you let out a soft whine of protest. 

the next time, his breath fans against your soaked underwear. the way he nuzzles his cheek just shy of your quivering cunt is proof that he hears you, even if he delights in making you squirm a little, the brush of his facial hair against your most sensitive skin only serving to stoke the fire in your core.

“you didn’t say you were going to be a tease,” you huff. 

“I told you I was going to take my time.” Jesse’s eyes sparkle. “tell me his version of foreplay wasn’t just two fingers scissoring you open and a little bit of lube.”

“actually—” 

Jesse has no interest in letting you finish that thought. his tongue renders you speechless as it drags through your folds in one long, drawn out lick that has your back arching off the bed and toward his mouth. 

evidently, he’s had enough of pretending he’s not just as eager to taste you as you are for him to. 

your hand finds its way into his hair, impatiently tugging his curls like it’ll urge him on, even though you’ve come to understand that he isn’t one to be rushed. this man wants to savor you.  

still, his hum rumbles through your core like a reward, even as he shows no signs of his patience wearing thin. 

each lick is slow, painfully so. deliberate circles of his tongue over your clit before dipping lower to taste you properly. 

his arms encircle your waist, keeping your hips secure no matter how much they want to shift in search of more. 

rest assured, he will not disappoint. 

it knocks the wind out of you when his lips well and truly seal around your clit. “ohh, Jess.” your head falls back against the mattress as he alternates sucking and lapping. 

you’re already trembling beneath him, fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure builds fast and hot in your belly with each flick of his tongue. 

“when’s the last time someone made you come without asking for anything in return, huh? just the simple pleasure of making you feel good,” Jesse croons. “you know, when I think of him getting to taste you, I get so fucking jealous. he doesn’t know what he has. you’re wasted on him.”

it’s as if the thought fuels him as he doubles his efforts, surging forward kissing and licking like a man on a mission to erase every memory of Noah from your body entirely. he won’t be content until his name is the only one on the tip of your tongue. 

“shit, Jesse, I’m gonna come,” you pant out breathily. 

“give it to me, baby. go ahead and come on my tongue. I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as the pleasure peaks. “that’s it,” his voice muffles against your core. 

Jesse milks your orgasm for all it’s worth, making sure to help you ride it out with soft laps of his tongue and gentle suction until every last shudder fades from your limbs.

when he finally lifts his mouth, he wipes the back of his hand across his lips and smirks, proud of himself.

“if you were mine, I’d spend every day of my life trying to be worthy,” Jesse murmurs, kissing your hip, then slipping a finger inside you.

“Jesse…” your breath hitches. the intrusion comes so soon after your orgasm. you’re still so sensitive, and he knows it, which is why he starts slow with just that one finger, curling it just right. 

that’s all it takes for you to become putty in his hands. 

putty whose face Jesse watches for every reaction like he’s memorizing what makes you feel good.  

“please.” it’s not long before you’re begging for more. 

he’s quick to add a second, stretching you gently as he leans down to kiss your stomach, his lips warm against your skin.

“I’d give you anything you want.”

Jesse’s fingers make a come-hither motion. slow, deep thrusts that curl upwards toward that sweet spot inside you and make your hips rock unconsciously into his hand.  

all the while, his kisses trail higher—up your stomach, your ribs, before he’s burying his face between your breasts, your heart hammering in your chest—and capturing one of your nipples between his lips and biting softly.

you gasp, your fingers in his hair peeling back his head to look up at you. 

“what about your cock?” you manage cheekily. 

his sharp exhale turns into a groan, but he shakes his head. “nice try, but no, honey, not tonight.”

your lip juts out in a pout, but Jesse wipes the sulk right off your face when he puts his mouth back on you whilst his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. 

your face heats at the realization that you’re already wound up again, sensitive and aching. 

“tonight is about you,” Jesse reiterates. “not taking anything for myself. not asking for anything in return.”

that’s exactly what hasn’t worked in the past. tonight needs to be different. he needs to be different. this isn’t about instant gratification.

this is about showing you how you deserve to be treated. 

“Jesse,” you pant, “you’re going to make me come again…”

“good,” he says matter-of-factly. if anything, the knowledge only makes him work harder for it…

your cunt clenches around his fingers and keeps them there, spasming around the length of them buried to the knuckle. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that blissed-out look on your face,” Jesse murmurs. “feels good, doesn’t it? letting yourself be taken care of for once?”

your moan is an affirmative as your second orgasm washes over you, hot and sweet. 

“come sit on my face,” Jesse pipes up. you haven’t even fully come down before he’s patting the bed and settling on his back beside you.

your cheeks burn. “but—” 

“I won’t be satisfied until you do,” he cuts you off. “not until you use me to make yourself feel good, so you might as well give me what I want and come sit on my face.”

you know Jesse well enough to know he means it, and anyway, it’s not like it’s not an untempting offer. 

you tentatively move to position yourself on all fours, but not before Jesse’s fingers dig into your hips, dragging you backwards on your knees until you’re straddling his shoulders. 

then Jesse pulls you down over top of him until your heat is right above his waiting mouth.

“there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

his hands squeeze the curve of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, and god, the first swipe of his tongue has your knees buckling, your hands finding his thighs as you double over.

the scratch of his facial hair is like nothing you’ve ever felt between your thighs. 

every sensation already feels like too much.

the pleasant burn of his scruff as he nuzzles you open. 

the press of his nose nudging against your clit and his tongue following in its place. parting your folds, dipping into your entrance, lapping enthusiastically at your clit…

you can’t help the way you gush, your arousal surely drenching his face as he feasts from behind. 

the new angle has you whimpering, unable to still your restless hips. Jesse flattens his tongue for you, and you ride it, chasing the wet glide of it along your clit. you don’t try to hide your moans as you edge closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night, his saliva dripping from your folds. you grow more and more uninhibited, shameless in your grinding against his mouth, and Jesse increasingly pleased when it becomes evident that you struggle to hold yourself up as you ride out the height of your orgasm against his tongue, your knees going weak. 

what a sight he makes. his scruff drenched, his eyes sparkling as he licks his lips, and you completely oblivious as you now paw at the bulge in his pants from your seat on his chest. 

“Jesse,” you whine, “what if I just sucked you off?” 

his cock twitches against your cheek where it nuzzles against him. 

Jesse chuckles, cupping your chin with his palm and turning your head to look back at him. “I meant what I said.”

“just a taste?”

“as hard as it is to say no to you, I’ve got to.” 

“not too hard, apparently,” you huff. “doesn’t it hurt?”

his hard-on strains prominently against his jeans. seeing him so affected just from giving you pleasure makes your mouth water and stirs you to hunger. 

“a cold shower will take care of it,” he tells you. “thank you for your concern.” he presses a kiss to the skin of your back, “give me five minutes and I’ll be all yours again,” then disentangles himself from you before rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom, and he assumes that’s the end of it. 

the sound of running water follows moments later. as does a muffled curse from behind the closed door, probably because the cold water is doing its job. 

a part of you feels guilty. here he is, being all noble, and all you can think about is how badly you want him inside you.

not guilty enough, apparently. or at any rate not enough to keep from propping yourself against the doorway, fully bare as you enjoy the view before you.

Jesse’s back is mostly to you, water from the showerhead sluicing down the lines of his chest. it’s the body of a touring musician, someone who’s spent years lugging amps and guitars, with just enough muscle to show for it. a body shaped by life on the road rather than in the gym. 

there’s an irresistible softness to him that is your catnip. plushness that yields underneath your hands. 

you bite your lip, imagining what it would be like to have full rein to touch him like this. to hug your arms around his middle, to leave little love bites where only you would see. to trace the lines of his tattoos. 

he hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting his head under the icy spray, doing his damndest to try and cool off.

your hands come up to his shoulders as you rub circles with your loofah over his back.

“you’re playing dirty,” he murmurs, not turning around yet. 

your hands slide down his chest, your body pressing flush against his back. your hardened nipples prod him until he can no longer ignore their presence. 

“I can’t take a shower?” you ask, faking innocence.

“is that what you’re doing?” 

Jesse’s erection stirs to life more insistent than before, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together at the sight of it, delightfully fat with a slight curve you can almost feel hit all the right spots already. a cock made for the taking. 

you reach around him and turn the water hotter, the beginnings of steam fogging up the glass.

he finally turns to look at you, water dripping from his lashes. his eyes drop to where water beads on your own skin before snapping back up to your face with visible effort.

you play coy even as the length of him twitches, drawing attention to the prominent vein along his shaft. 

“do me?” you press the loofah into his hand. 

he stares at the loofah like it’s a loaded weapon. “minx,” he finally murmurs, not unaffectionately. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

he lathers the loofah with your body wash before running it over your shoulders, down your arms, faltering when he comes to your breasts. 

no answer. 

he drags the loofah lower with painstaking slowness, settling just under your belly button. 

“can you get my back?” you reply instead. 

Jesse breathes a sigh of relief, only to discover the supposed act of mercy is anything but. 

your plans are far more nefarious than he could’ve suspected… because the moment you turn your back to him, you back your hips into his. 

his curved cock slots perfectly between your soaped up thighs, the loofah slipping from his hand and dropping to the floor.

it isn’t hard to imagine how good even the smallest bit of friction must feel for him. the plush of your thighs alone seems like a cruel test of his self-control after being so hard, for so long, with lord knows how much precum leaked in his boxers. 

you’re overcome by the overwhelming need to thank him for his patience.

Jesse’s breath hitches, his hips rutting against you based on pure instinct. he braces one hand on the tile in front of you, the other on your hip. “fuck.” his forehead drops to your shoulder. “you’re not making this easy.”

his hips continue to move almost imperceptibly, committing small acts of rebellion against his better judgment. 

Jesse exhales shakily in your ear. 

“why waste a perfectly hard cock?” you kiss the underside of his chin. “when there’s perfectly needy pussy that’s begging for it?”

Jesse’s eyes squeeze shut. 

for a little while, it’s bliss. 

his cock head repeatedly nudging into your clit. the weight of it against you a reminder of just how easy it would be for him to sink inside and satisfy you. 

but he stays true to his word, showing the discipline you wish he was not capable of in this moment as his hand takes over. he plays your clit like he plays his six-string, pushing you over the edge with a dexterity that comes naturally to him given his line of work. 

he supports your weight when you all but collapse, allowing you to go boneless in his arms as he holds you upright with an arm encircling your waist and his other hand curled inside your thigh. you melt against his shoulder, protesting when his cock slips free of your folds, twitching in air. 

you can’t help but feel like a dog being taken away from its favourite toy when it wasn’t done playing. “Jesse…” you whine. 

“we should slow down.” his chest is heaving. his cock is flushed and swollen, precum beading at the tip. 

“it doesn’t make you him.” 

you know it’s what he’s thinking. hell, you can practically see the gears in his head turning as you search his face, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. 

he’s harder on himself than you would ever be.

“I can’t do the whole pretending this doesn’t mean anything in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you say.

“I know. it’s just—if I let this happen tonight,” he adds, lower, “I don’t get to pretend I’m not already in deep. and I don’t think you’re there with me right now.”

and that’s the thing about Jesse… he cares about you in ways Noah never did. enough to stop when he wants to keep going. enough to put your feelings ahead of his own.

“I want to get there,” you say quietly. “maybe I’m not where you are yet, but I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

“you say things like that, and I can’t deny you anything,” Jesse sighs. “which is exactly why I need you to go to bed,” he adds, “before I change my mind.” 

a sinking feeling takes root in your stomach when you wake to an empty bed. 

white hot panic rolls over you in waves of déjà vu. it’s all too familiar. too reminiscent of countless mornings spent alone.

did he leave?

the faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen says otherwise. 

you pursue the sound in your bare feet, following the hallway, and there he is. 

Jesse, in all his morning glory, naked except for a pair of boxer briefs. his hair sticks up in all directions like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into the kitchen, spatula in his hand as he flips pancakes. a pair of round glasses sits crooked on his nose, atop the ever-present lines and shadows under his eyes. 

they persist no matter how many hours he’s gotten. 

he might not be considered conventionally attractive, but you’ve always thought him handsome. here in your kitchen the morning after, he’s absolutely devastating.

he glances up and immediately brightens when he sees you. the ball of nerves that had drawn taut in your stomach unravels so quickly it’s almost as if it was never there.

“hey,” he greets, “you weren’t supposed to be up yet.”

I needed to make sure you were still here. the words stay lodged somewhere behind your ribs. “I smelled food,” you say instead. 

“you’re supposed to be in bed. you’re ruining the whole plan,” Jesse chastises playfully. “go. back to bed. I’ll bring it to you.” 

he redirects you with his hands on your shoulders, and you trot obediently back the way you came, the happiness bubbling full to overflowing with every step. 

the bed is rumpled, still warm when you slip back under the covers. for once, you don’t feel the need to bundle the sheets and purge the remnants of your night. instead you breathe in the scent of Jesse left on the pillow on his side of the bed and let it soothe you.

true to his word, he had stayed. your heart could burst.

from the kitchen, you can hear him moving. soft clinks of plates and utensils, the fridge door opening and closing,... footsteps that make their way to the bedroom.

“okay, don’t laugh.” Jesse proudly presents you with a tray that holds a glass of orange juice, pancakes with goofy little fruit faces, and a small vase with a handful of the wildflowers from your date the night prior.

“why would I? this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say. “I want to wake up to this every Sunday.”

“that can be arranged.”

“I’m serious.”

“so am I.”

“okay,” you whisper, trying to mask the way the words make your stomach swoop like the sudden drop of a rollercoaster.

“okay.”

you eat side by side for a few moments in silence, Jesse stealing pieces of fruit from your plate. he has his own, but apparently he only deigned to give yours the special treatment. 

“hey!” you protest weakly as he snatches yet another blueberry.

“payment for my labor,” he teases.

your phone buzzes—the groupchat checking in—and when you open your messages, Noah’s text sits just below the other text thread at the top as if it’s mocking you. 

your thumb hovers over his contact before finally settling on the block button. Jesse has made it impossible to ignore what you’ve been settling for, and you owe it to yourself, and to Jesse, to stop accepting less than you deserve.

no more settling.

you don’t even realize Jesse had asked you a question. “hey,” he murmurs, attuned to you as always, “you okay?”

you look down at the phone in your hand, then at the breakfast he so kindly made you, then back at him.

“yeah,” you whisper, “I’m okay,” and you mean it. 

“where’d you go just now?”

you unlock your phone and hand it over.

it takes a moment for Jesse to register that you’ve blocked his (ex?) best friend’s number.

“you didn’t have to do that for me,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t.” you pull the blanket over your shoulders tighter around yourself. “I did it for me.”

you think about all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, only to wake up the following morning alone. all the unanswered texts. the careful pretending that you were okay with casual when every piece of evidence that he didn’t care about you like you cared about him hollowed you out a little more.

you did it for that version of yourself.

“I’m proud of you,” Jesse tells you.

if you’re being honest, so are you.

it was about time you were the one closing the door and the one walking out, not the one being walked out on. the keeper of your own peace and the champion of your heart.

you hum thoughtfully. “where do we go from here?”

“I dunno. lazy Sunday… I was thinking the couch… unless you have plans.”

you laugh and tuck yourself into Jesse’s side. 

“you are my plans.”

Out of curiosity, you scroll through. There are hundreds of faces, most of them look scary and intimidating until you come across him...

He had long brown hair and the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen. Out of every profile you had seen, his was the one you stopped and clicked on.

Name: Noah S. Davis Age: 24 Sentence: 15 years Time served: 4 Looking for: someone to talk to, nothing more

For some reason, you decide to write to him. You introduce yourself, tell him just a little about you, and then you ask him a little about himself and what lifes like inside.

Weeks pass, and you forgot you had even sent the letter until one evening, six weeks later, you come home to see an envelope had been put through your door. You open it, and are met with handwriting that so clearly belonged to a man.

For the first couple months, it felt a little awkward, you weren't sure how to talk to him or what to say, but he always had something to write about. Eventually, you get to know each other, and you both begin to look forward to recieving your letters.

A year passes, he tells you all about prison life- or only the ordinary parts. He talks about the library, the jobs, the never ending boredom. But he never talks about whatever put him in there. You tell him about your terrible boss, your family, how your neighbours dog keeps jumping over your fence. You tell him little things that no one else would care about, but he does. And then at the end of one of his letters, he asks- I'm guessing you've seen my mugshot, but I've never seen a photo of you. Would ever send me one? I've been picturing you in my mind all this time, it'd just be nice to finally know :)

You spend an embarassingly long time trying to choose a photo. Not because you're trying to impress him... totally not because you feel yourself falling for him! You settle on one that your friend took of you last year at the beach, one of the rare pictures where you feel like you look the most like you, and you tuck it into the evelope alongside another letter and send it off, trying not to overthink.

A week or so later, you recieve another letter from him. You open it as soon as it comes through the door and right at the top, in his messy handwriting, it says "Well, you're nothing like I imagined." Your stomach dropped, and you almost put the letter down, until you read, "You're prettier." Then your cheeks burned.

The rest of the letter was normal, he talked about a book he read in the library, and a fight that he watched break out, how the coffee in there sucks. And right at the bottom of the letter, he wrote "I hope you don't mind, your pictures on my wall now. It makes this place look less like a prison."

Eventually, your letters turn into phone calls after a couple years. When you first get a call from an unknown number, you almost ignore it, until you remember his last letter. "I finally got approved for phone calls. If you're free next Thursday around seven... I'll try" and that boy stayed true to his word.

The first call is painfully awkward, he has fifteen minutes, but he doesn't know what to say. It was strange finally hearing his voice after writing to him for so long. But it didn't take long for it to feel natural, and after that it became a part of your routine. Every Thursday, if the phones were working and he got the time slot, he'd call, and you'd chat for a little while.

Years pass by just like this, you smile every time you see a letter through your door, or something in a store that reminds you of him. He sent you a card for your birthday (though it came a couple days late), with something you love (an animal or a flower) hand drawn on the front. Every time you think about him, your heart feels soft and full. It's a feeling you've never felt for anyone before.

Then, one day, you get an envelope that feels thicker than usual. You open it up and begin to read it. "Hey, I've rewritten this letter about six times now. I just don't know how to say it, but I had my parole hearing last week..." Your heart starts pounding so you skip ahead before you can stop yourself, until you read, "They approved it."

You gasped out loud, your heart fluttering. He's getting out. The rest of the letter was surprisingly flat, he didn't sound excited about it at all. If anything, he sounded nervous. He went on to roughly explain what happened withoug giving away too much. He had given evidence against someone who used to run part of an organisation he used to work for, putting a lot of people behind bars, and if anyone found out, he'd be a dead man in no time. It worried you, making you wonder if there was anything you could do to help- which brings you to the next page of his letter.

"...Which brings me to the part I've been avoiding. My release plan has kinda fallen through. The place I was meant to stay at isn't an option anymore. My parole officer is trying to sort something else, but because of the case, nowhere is particulary keen to take me. They think I'll either be recognised or found by... 'old friends'."

You could already tell what was coming, you just didn't want to assume, and suddenly you realised you'd been holding your breath.

"I feel embarrassed even writing this. Please don't feel guilty if the answers no, in fact I'd almost prefer you said no. It would probably be the sensible decision... but if you had a spare couch, or even just a floor... would you consider letting me stay for a while until I find my feet? I'd pay rent as soon as I'm working, I'll buy my own food, I'll keep out of your way. I don't expect anything from you. You've already given me more than I ever thought I'd have. You gave me six years of company, I don't think I would've made it this long in here if it wasn't for you. So even if the answers no, thank you anyway. You have no idea just what you mean to me. I'd still write you if you'd let me, I've memorised your phone number so I could even call you when I'm out. I just thought I'd rather ask you than spend the rest of my life wondering if I should have."

You were so excited, you were practically shaking as you began writing back.

Noah,

First of all… congratulations!! :) I’m so happy for you, I think I’ve read the words “They approved it” about fifty times already. I might’ve even cried a little, but don’t let that get to your head.

Then, after a page of full of your excitement, you finally gave him your answer…

“And yes! Obviously yes. You don’t even have to ask, you can stay with me for as long as you need. I have a spare room, although it’s currently full of boxes and things I’ve been meaning to sort through for a few months. I’ll clear it out before you get here, I promise. So no, you’re not sleeping on the sofa. You’re having an actual bed. After all these years, you deserve somewhere warm and comfy to sleep :)”

A few days later, he calls. You both discuss the arrangement, and how it’d work since you live quite a few hours away from him- which is why you had never visited him. You were both quite glad this was the case though, because he told you the people that would be looking for him would never look there.

On his release day, you drove all the way to pick him up. You spent weeks imagining this moment, since you first arranged having him stay with you. You imagined seeing him, running over and giving him a big hug… but as you pull into the parking lot, you suddenly forget the entire plan, because now he’s standing right there.

Or you assume it’s him, he’s the only person standing outside the gate with a duffel bag at his feet. But he looked different… the only picture you had seen of his was his mugshot that had been taken almost ten years ago. But god, he has certainly changed.

The first thing you noticed was his haircut. His long brown hair was now gone, it was short and even looked darker than before. You knew he had cut it, he told you some guy did it for him in there, but you didn’t know what it looked like.

Then you noticed his build. A few years ago he told you he’d really gotten into fitness and using the gym equipment, and it’s clearly done him good. You had to tear your eyes away from his biceps as you parked up.

He recognised your car, you had told him what it looked like a few days ago so he’d be prepared. And as he started to wander over, your heart began to race. You stepped out, and neither of you knew what to say, which was funny as if you hadn’t spent the last six years writing to each other and talking over the phone. After a moment, he opened his arms, and you stepped into them.

If only you knew then, what would be in store for you…

Because Noah’s past can’t be put behind him until he knows for sure what happened to his best friend, Nick Ruffilo. After Noah’s arrest, he never heard from him again. He doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive, if he’s still involved in a life he never wanted to be a part of or if he got out and was now living peacefully under a new name.

you hug your knees to your chest, your head resting on your arm as you watch Noah gather his things. clothes haphazardly shed around the room, wallet, keys, his phone on your dresser,.... he balances on one leg as he tugs his pants back over his boxers.

you try—unsuccessfully—to push down the flare of attraction you feel in your core as his shirtless form bends to grab his tank. his shoulders are broader than they used to be, his recent gains evidenced in the way muscle shifts under his skin as he moves. it’s unfair, really—how good he looks. almost as unfair as the way he’d peeled that same tank top off earlier, effortless and practiced in that way fuckboys somehow perfect.

he can’t help but smirk when he notices you looking. “you’re staring,” Noah says lowly, tugging his zipper up.

“can you blame me for enjoying the view?”

he grins and leans in to graze his lips across your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin a little more than playfully as he murmurs into your ear, “you always make this part harder than it needs to be.”

“then why go? you could always stay…”

Noah sighs, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. if you didn’t know him better, you’d almost think he regrets it, but this conversation always ends the same way, the two of you stuck in the same argument on repeat every time he has to leave. “you know why.”

and you do. this was supposed to be casual. no strings and no feelings.

except he just uses it as a shield. an excuse not to have to deal with the aftermath. 

you wrap your arms tighter around yourself, like you can hold in whatever is cracking open inside your chest. 

you told yourself you could handle it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

he never stayed. he never held you until you fell asleep. never cleaned you up or gave you soft words of affirmation. there was only ever the sound of the door closing behind him.

it never felt like you were more than a readily available way to blow off steam, a distraction. it was never about being intimate but about needing a body. you’re not special. you’re only one of countless girls Noah could choose from, and they’d all fall into bed with him without a second thought. 

Noah doesn’t so much as spare a glance back over his shoulder before he’s out the door, and that about sums up the state of your relationship. or lack thereof. 

a single, solitary tear falls down your cheek, and you stay, unmoving, until you can finally muster the energy to force yourself up and into the bathroom.

when you look at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognize the sad, broken person staring back at you. the circles under your eyes seem to have gotten darker. your hair is a disheveled mess, and your lips look bitten raw from where Noah attacked them earlier.

you turn on the water and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down your body.

it doesn’t make you feel any less dirty.

you could scrub yourself raw, and you would still be able to feel his touch on your skin. that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is knowing you’ll keep coming back for more. 

you hate yourself for it. hate the way your knees go weak whenever he looks at you with those doe eyes of his. how he could ruin you without even trying. most of all, you hate the way your body betrays you so easily, how even a single touch from him sets every nerve alight.

he’s like a drug of the most dangerous kind, your addiction, and you’re hooked.

you hate that you’d let him use you, and you have, over and over again. hate that you still want him so badly, that a part of you will always crave him no matter how badly you get hurt. and you hate the fact that the memory of him is going to linger on your skin for days, and the only thing you can do is cling to the sheets and pillows and the traces of his scent left behind.

you hate that even as he hurts you, you still love him.

if Noah called tomorrow, you’d answer. if he showed up at your door, you’d let him in without hesitation.

you love him too much to learn otherwise.

you check the time. 1 am.

you’re dialing Jesse’s number before you can think too hard about it. he is, after all, the one person who’s consistently had your back through everything, even if it’s complicated by his years-long friendship with Noah. Jesse had never minced words about his disapproval of how Noah treated you and the fact that it made him an ass, not when they were living together as roommates and not now when he’s since moved out, still always quick to defend your honor and forever on your side, his best friend be damned.

what you haven’t realized is that Jesse’s fierce protectiveness stems not just from platonic concern, but from feelings he harbors for you that you’re somehow shockingly dense about.

it only takes three rings before you hear a sleepy “hello?” on the other end of the line, and you suddenly feel guilty for waking him, but as he clears his throat, you can already picture him pushing himself up to lean against the headboard, his curls a mess. it’s too late now.

even just the thought of what you’d called to get off your chest has you sniffling again, tears trailing down your cheeks. “Noah just left,” you manage to get out amid sniffles.

the fatigue in Jesse’s voice vanishes in an instant, replaced by worry. he knows you all too well, and he knows how this goes. you didn’t call just to tell him that. you’re upset, and he’s the only person you could think to call. the only one who gets it.

he sighs softly on the other end, and you hear the sounds of him getting up and shuffling around, throwing on a sweatshirt.

you imagine him pacing in the hall, a moment’s notice from being on his way to you as he asks quietly, “are you okay? do you need me to come over?”

“I’m a mess,” you say, like that should be reason enough for him not to.

Jesse scoffs quietly. “don’t be an idiot. I’m coming over.”

the line goes quiet for a few seconds, and you know he’s slipping on his sneakers and grabbing his truck keys. “I’ll be there in twenty. hang tight, alright? I’m on my way.”

when he lets himself in, you’re wrestling with the sheets, stripping your bed frustratedly. Jesse appears in the doorway, and you just say sadly, “they smell like him,” before he’s bundling them in his arms and into the laundry.

the two of you remake your bed in silence with a fresh set of bedding from your linen closet. a familiar dance.

Jesse doesn’t say anything about the good set of underwear you’d worn specifically for Noah shed on the floor, or the faint red marks across your throat, like someone had been nipping at your skin.

“I hate his cologne,” you say bitterly, collapsing on your back into the mattress. 

what you hate even more is how it makes you want to take a bite out of Noah every time. how it somehow gets into everything. sheets, pillows, even rubs off on your clothes. 

Jesse snorts at that, making you smile faintly. 

the two of you lie side by side, his shoulder brushing yours as he stares up at your bedroom ceiling. he turns his head to study you for a moment. 

it hurts him to see you this way. to see you treated this way.

“you love that overpriced bullshit cologne of his.”

you huff softly at that, not quite landing a sharp jab to his ribs with your elbow. Jesse snickers. he catches your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

he looks back over at you, and when you meet his eyes, the expression on his face is so unbearably soft that it makes your chest ache. he brings your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that makes you shiver.

“I hate it… I hate that I love it. that I love him,” you admit quietly.

“yeah,” Jesse murmurs sadly. “I know.”

he’s probably the only one in the world who really does. 

he’s been your friend and your confidante. he knows everything. every detail, every late-night confession, every time you’ve sworn you were done, only to fall right back into the same cycle. he knows how deeply you crave a man who has only ever known how to use you.

for Jesse, your suffering at the hands of his so-called best friend has been something of a personal torment, forced to watch Noah break your heart while being silently in love with you for years. like being stuck in a time loop where he’s doomed to witness an inevitable car crash he can’t derail. over and over again. 

“he’s never going to love me back.”

you’re past the point of tears now. it’s a numb sort of melancholy, dwelling on this gaping hole in your chest, but it demands to be felt.

you feel Jesse’s hand leave yours as he rolls over onto his side, pulling you gently against him and into the crook of his neck.

you’ve spent many a night clinging to him like this, crying yourself to sleep on his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping around your back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I deserve better.”

“damn right you do.”

“why couldn’t I love someone else? anyone else? someone easy… someone who’d love me back with their whole heart… someone like you.” you frown.

you hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud.

Jesse swallows hard around the lump in his throat and closes his eyes. hearing you say that hurts, because he’d give you the damn world if you let him, cherish you in a way no one else has, but you remain stuck on someone who fails to recognize your worth. and the heart wants what it wants.

none of it matters if you don’t choose him.

“it won’t always be like this.” he doesn’t say what he’s thinking. that you’re never going to get over Noah if you keep falling back into bed with him. “you should get some sleep.”

“stay the night?”

he knows he shouldn’t, but when it’s you asking, he’d find a way to lasso the moon.

“yeah,” Jesse agrees. “...what is it anyway?” 

“what’s what?” you mumble, already drifting.

he pulls the blanket over your shoulders. “...why him? why do you keep going back? what is it about him?”

his voice isn’t angry, just tired, like he’s worn down from watching you break over and over.

“would you believe me if I said his massive di—”

Jesse groans and immediately clamps a hand over your mouth, shooting you a ‘be serious’ look.

besides, live with someone long enough and chances are you’ve seen them naked. he isn’t exactly packing anything that you can’t get elsewhere.

“you’re ridiculous. and I’ve seen his dick. does it have magical properties? try again.”

“fuck if I know. we want what we can’t have, right?”

isn’t that the truth? Jesse’s heart constricts painfully.

“you’re worth so much more than crumbs, y’know,” he murmurs quietly, voice full of emotion. you deserve the whole damn bakery.

knowing he’s right isn’t the problem. try telling that to the traitor in your chest.

“do you talk about me?”

“what do you mean?” Jesse asks cautiously, though he suspects he knows. 

“you and Noah… does my name ever come up?”

there’s a flicker of guilt on Jesse’s face as he shifts uncomfortably. “yeah… sometimes,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. 

“do I want to know? …nevermind.” you drop it, not giving him a chance to elaborate. you know you’re putting him in a tough position. “I know I’m not the only one.”

Jesse winces, and his silence says more than enough. you know you have no right to be jealous, but you also know what Noah gets up to on the road. Jesse’s been witness to the girls that come and go from the tour bus.

he’s never said as much, but you know you’re responsible for the rift between the two of them. 

you never asked Jesse to pick a side, but it was clear-cut to him from the beginning. he’d been the one picking up the pieces after Noah shattered them enough times to know. 

“we’re not exclusive. he doesn’t owe me anything.”

“but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when he’s with someone else,” Jesse finishes.

“sometimes I thought about sleeping with someone else… to make him jealous,” you admit sheepishly. a hollow laugh escapes you. “but how can you make someone who doesn’t care, jealous?”

Jesse knows that, for the most part, Noah’s indifference is a hard-maintained act.

Noah Sebastian is a difficult man to get close to. he can have his dick inside you and still find a way to keep you at arm’s length. distance is something he demands because the thought of actually letting someone in terrifies him, and Noah Sebastian doesn’t do vulnerability.

he’s been burned one too many times for that. 

now he’s the one who does the burning. because if he ruins things first, if he keeps people craving him instead of needing them, then he never has to risk being the one left behind. even if he did care for you the way you wanted him to, Noah would rather let you think he felt nothing than admit you had the power to hurt him.

and maybe, after all the times he’d used and discarded you, only to come back and fall into your bed when you know he most likely hadn’t spent a single night since alone... maybe he didn’t deserve the grace you kept giving him.

“then don’t do it for him.” Jesse’s fingers brush your hair. “do it for you. if it’s gonna help you move on… then let someone show you how good it feels to be wanted without all the heartache.

“let it be me,” he murmurs softly. “let me show you how you’re supposed to be treated. not tonight,” Jesse breathes. not when your bed is scarcely cold and not with you in such a fragile emotional state. “let me take you out to dinner Saturday. wear that pretty sundress you wore to that barbecue Folio hosted last year. and I promise, I’ll clean up nice.”

you give him a small, tired smile at the memory. pale yellow with delicate straps and a corseted waist. the same one Noah had hitched around your hips shortly after his fingers had discovered that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“you always clean up nice, Jesse.”

Jesse must notice the flicker of nostalgia because he adds quietly, “we won’t bring him up. not once. it’ll just be us. now get some rest, I’ll be here in the morning.”

words you never hear Noah say….

your eyelids start to droop, and you nod, nuzzling your face into his chest. the rhythmic thumping of his heart against your cheek lulls you to sleep.

you never realized just how much you needed this, how much it hurt for the simple comfort of a warm body close to yours to be ripped away after being so intimate moments prior, but Jesse holds you like he knows exactly what you need.

you suppose after being the one you’ve called after countless late-night trysts, he does. 

Jesse’s taken to sleeping on your bedroom floor on nights like this, grabbing a pillow and the blanket off the back of your couch so he could be close if you needed him.

you hope he has no plans of leaving this bed tonight.

“you’re not gonna sneak out once I fall asleep, are you?” you mumble, fingers curling into his shirt. “please. I don’t want the bed to feel empty again.”

“okay,” Jesse caves almost immediately. “if you want me to stay, I will. sleep.”

you drift off with his hand stroking your hair.

when you open the door for your dinner date, Jesse is standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

he’s always been a little old-fashioned like that. maybe it’s leftover from his Southern upbringing, but he’s always been big on gestures and fluent in thoughtfulness.

he’s wearing a dark gray button-up with a few buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up and exposing a bit of his tattooed forearms, complete with dark wash jeans and black boots. 

he looks damn good, the bastard.

his own eyes rake over you appreciatively, taking in the way that your yellow sundress clings to your body just right, the hem brushing just above your knees. Jesse looks long enough for you to know he’s appreciative before consciously dragging his gaze back up to meet your eyes. he’s nothing if not a gentleman.

you feel better than you did when you’d worn it at that barbecue. like a princess. 

“those for me?” you ask.

Jesse’s smile spreads as he holds out the bouquet towards you.

it’s a lovely arrangement of wildflowers—daffodils and daisies and the small cornflower blue petals of a flower you don’t recognize—arranged in a bouquet that’s as bright and cheerful as your dress.

the dress isn’t the only thing that makes you feel like a princess. so does Jesse’s treatment of you.

“thought you might like them more than roses.”

your chest tightens. you’d mentioned once, ages ago, that roses were overrated and unjustifiably expensive; not that you’d expected him to remember. he’d apparently never forgotten. “they’re beautiful, Jess. thank you.”

“don’t hold a candle to you, though.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. 

“sweet talker.”

“it’s the truth, sweetheart,” he says simply.

you busy yourself with the flowers before he can see how easily he’s gotten to you, carrying them into the kitchen and setting them in a vase, enough to keep them fresh until you can properly care for them.

you grab your bag from the hook by the door, then step into the balmy night air with Jesse at your back. 

“so,” you ask. Jesse walks ahead and opens the passenger door for you, “where are we going?”

he flashes a vague, somewhat secretive smile in response. “it’s a surprise. you’ll see.” 

he lets you get settled inside and then shuts the door, rounding the truck and getting into the driver’s seat. it isn’t until he pulls into the parking lot that you realize exactly why he’d been so secretive.

“if he wanted to, he would.” 

you marvel at the sign as you pass underneath it, the new restaurant whose reservations have been booked solid since its grand opening. 

Jesse’s hand finds the small of your back as he ushers you inside ahead of him.

“Jesse,” you say, a little incredulous. “I mentioned this place forever ago.”

he just shrugs. “I remembered.” 

it’s altogether too much for a first date, let alone dinner. tinder dates in the past had bitched about less. 

the place is oozing with class. in a dimly lit corner, someone plays the piano while your server leads the two of you to a booth near the back, partially obscured by a partition. 

Jesse lets you slide into the booth first, then slips in beside you instead of taking the seat across from you.

the two of you are close enough that your knees brush his. he grins sheepishly. “I hope this is okay.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you tell him, and he visibly relaxes, resting his arm along the back of the seat. “you know, you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble—”

“don’t even start,” Jesse warns. “I hope you’re hungry.”

you nod. “I’ve been wanting to try their—”

“—carbonara, I know,” Jesse finishes your sentence. “it’s your favorite.” at your surprised look, he again shrugs a shoulder like it’s nothing. “remembered that, too.” 

you think you catch the faint hint of a flush on his cheeks.

“you really pay attention, don’t you?”

he gives a soft hum in response. “to the things that matter.”

butterflies stir to life in your stomach as you find yourself seeing him in a new light.

“I take it you’re ready to order?” he asks. “would you like to share a bottle of wine?” 

you nod, noting how attentive he is when it comes to ordering. something about the effortless way he’s making sure you’re taken care of without ever making it feel like you can’t take care of yourself is panty-droppingly attractive. 

“red or white, sweetheart?” Jesse tilts the drink menu towards the both of you, leaning in close enough that his breath flutters against your ear.

“hm?” you blush, lost in your thoughts.

he chuckles softly, amused by your reaction, and repeats himself. “red or white, darlin’?”

his fingers brush the bare skin of your thigh ever so slightly, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re sat by the ac vents.

“I trust your pick.”

“white then.” he places the order for a particular bottle, then turns his attention back to you. “I’m glad you agreed to this. even if it took me years to get you here,” he admits. “you’re worth every second of the wait.”

“Jesse…” you breathe.

“you don’t have to say anything.” his hand settles over top of yours. “just let yourself enjoy tonight.”

you interlace your fingers with his and squeeze his hand. “I really am glad I came.”

your server pours from the bottle of white for the both of you, and you clink your glasses together.

the wine is light, crisp, perfectly paired with the meal ahead.

“did I make the right choice?” Jesse observes you as you take your sip.

“perfect,” you nod. 

despite the introduction of such an intimate atmosphere, there never feels like there’s any pressure to be any way other than how you already are with each other. 

conversation is easy, comfortable, flowing without you having to force it. like it always has been. it’s like muscle memory, you don’t even have to think about it anymore. there’s comfort even in the silence. 

you talk like you’re sat on your bedroom floor, talking from the late hours of the night into early morning about anything and everything. 

Jesse’s an expert at getting you to come out of your shell, gentle in all the ways Noah is intense.

he makes you laugh, makes you feel seen and special, makes you forget everything outside this moment. that is, until your phone sounds.

a single text notification lights up the screen as a plate of steaming pasta is placed in front of you.

no other name but his would make your stomach drop like that and make you lose all appetite for your dinner.

Jesse sees it too. his jaw tightens, just slightly, so subtle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t looking, but he doesn’t comment. just takes a slow sip of wine, allowing you your space to do as you see fit. 

Noah wouldn’t be texting you this late unless he was trying to use you for a last-minute hook-up. it’s as if he has some sort of radar or sixth sense for when you’re spending time with someone else.

your fingers hover over the phone, the screen still glowing with Noah’s name.

Jesse doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it anyway. 

you deserve better than someone who only wants you when he knows he can’t have you.

<Noah> Miss that mouth of yours. You home?

your stomach twists. part arousal, part shame. 

how easy it would be to slip back into that familiar sin. one text reply and he’d be at your door, his hands everywhere, his voice murmuring all the wrong things in all the right ways.

but then you’re reminded of Jesse beside you. who took you to a restaurant you’d been wanting to try because you’d mentioned it once. 

Jesse, who doesn’t so much as steal a glance at your phone screen, doesn’t ask what it says, just waits patiently for you to decide.

you take a deep breath… and silence your phone.

your shaky smile gains confidence as you grin at Jesse and take a bite of your food... and moan softly without meaning to.

“that good, huh?”

“mhm… this is amazing,” you say, licking a bit of sauce from your lip.

Jesse’s eyes darken slightly. “yeah,” he murmurs. “it is.”

you get the feeling he’s not talking about the food so much as he’s talking about you.

your cheeks redden. 

“try some.” you avert your gaze back to your plate and lift a forkful to his lips without thinking. Jesse leans in to take a bite, not breaking eye contact the entire time, which only serves to make you more flustered. 

there’s a tension between you growing taut, and there’s proof in the way your heartbeat stumbles.

you end up getting a slice of cheesecake to share because he’d seen how your eyes lingered on the dessert menu a few seconds too long, and if the way you take turns alternating forkfuls is any indication of how sickeningly coupley you are in this moment, you are bound to come down with a toothache. 

it all just feels so… domestic that your heart pangs wildly because this… this is what you deserve.

it’s something you’ve always wanted, even if you haven’t always believed you could have it. you know you can’t, not with Noah.

but with Jesse, who would kiss away your tears instead of being the one to cause them…

who’d bring you flowers just because. who’d learn your favorite song and memorize how you take your coffee. who’d send you pictures of the little things that remind him of you. the sunset. a line in a book. 

the same Jesse who’d leave you love notes to find around the house. a post-it on the bathroom mirror. a slip of paper in the bagged lunch you’d taken to work. (that he made you.)

what would life be with someone who doesn’t leave you feeling empty afterward, but instead more fulfilled? 

Jesse’s eyes are so soft, so full of hope. 

“we don’t have to rush anything,” he says quietly. 

he always was good at reading you. or maybe it’s just that no one’s ever listened closely enough for you to know what it feels like to be seen.

“I’ve waited this long. I can wait for you to be ready.” 

you don’t know what’s wrong with you; you feel as if you’re broken.

because that’s the thing. Jesse is the type of guy who should get the girl, the one you bring home to Mom. he’s everything good and gentle and kind, and here you keep pining after a man who’s made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he’s capable of giving you is his… cock?

you shake your head. “we’re leaving this restaurant. you’re going to drive me home and walk me to my door, and I’m going to invite you in, and you’re going to say yes.”

if Jesse is surprised by your newfound resolve, he doesn’t show it. he regards you with open amusement, smirking. “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’ve slipped into the jacket he’s holding open for you, he’s already tipped generously and settled the bill before you can so much as reach for your wallet.

“I told you I’d take you out to dinner. that means it’s my treat,” he says. 

and when he’s stood outside your door, he waits for you to make the first move. 

he waits until your hands find his belt loops to tug him closer, and then he comes easily (like he always would for you), his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips.

his eyes search yours, as if needing to make sure you want this before it goes any further. 

the decision is yours—he’s made that abundantly clear. he’ll respect it. unlike Dylan from the dating apps, Jesse is under no illusion that paying for dinner equates to buying access to your body.

“are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask.

“do you want me to?” 

he knows he said he’d be there if it helped you move on. knows he’d take whatever piece of you you were ready to give.

still, a part of him can’t shake the nagging fear that he’s only a placeholder. a distraction meant to dull the ache Noah left behind. that maybe you don’t want him, not really, just to fill the void of the man who hurt you.

maybe this is too fast. maybe he should slow you down. maybe he should protect his own heart better than this… but the romantic in him screams that the risk is worth it.

“I want it to mean something,” Jesse whispers. “not just… because you’re hurting.” his hands slide up your back.

“you said you’d show me how it feels…”

he swallows hard, exhaling shakily through his nose. “yeah,” he breathes. “I did.”

your fingers tighten in his shirt. “well, I want to be something to someone for a change. I want to feel something real, even if it’s just for one night.”

Jesse rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. “if I had it my way, it wouldn’t be just one night. not with me.”

before you can find the words to answer, he’s kissing you. tentatively at first, giving you every chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when, if anything, you press closer, seeking him out—he deepens the kiss. 

his hands slide into your hair, cradling your face as his lips move over yours like he’s waited years for this (because he has).

he kisses you like you’re something to be cherished. like you’re some sort of precious masterpiece he can’t believe he gets to touch.

he swallows every sound you make like he could bottle it up for later.

god, you’d forgotten what it feels like to be truly, fully wanted. 

you’ve never been Noah’s first choice. merely an option. 

“tell you what’s going to happen,” Jesse murmurs. “we’re going to go inside, and I’m going to lay you on your bed. I’m going to take my time with you, make you come as many times as I want until I’m satisfied, without ever using my cock. in fact, I’m not going to come tonight.”

“but—” you’re about to protest with a pout when he presses his index finger to your mouth, silencing you. 

Jesse’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles kindly. “I’m going to take care of you and not the other way around.”

his chest is against your back now as he leans in closer to brush his lips over your neck, his voice low in your ear. “then, tomorrow morning, I’m going to make you breakfast.”

at this point, you’re fumbling uselessly with your house key, shaky hands struggling to jam it into the keyhole as you mentally curse the only thing that stands between you and the night ahead. 

you eventually give up and shove the key into Jesse’s hand.

he just chuckles, clearly amused by your eagerness. after he unlocks the door (with much more ease than you I might add), he scoops you up in one smooth motion, carrying you through the threshold and kicking the door shut behind him.  

the route to your bedroom is as familiar as his own, and he’s still laughing softly as he deposits you gently on the bed, bracing his forearms beside your head. 

he takes in the sight of you beneath him like a man starved.

his hands roam your body like he’s trying to map every dip and curve, his touch reverent.

he kisses you until you’re panting for breath, his mouth continuing on to your jaw and your neck before gently sucking on your pulse point.  

“god, I need you out of this dress,” he tells you, hands sliding down to the zipper.

“I thought you liked me in this dress,” you tease.

Jesse chuckles, his lips curving into an easy half-smile.  

he draws the zipper of your dress down slowly, his fingers grazing along your skin. 

“oh I do,” he murmurs, tugging the fabric gently over your head. “but I think I’d like you even better out of it. so…”

“so…” 

“what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? my fingers?” Jesse strums his index and his middle fingers over your clit as you gasp and push into his touch. “or my mouth?” his tongue proceeds to suck your arousal clean from the pads of his fingers. 

“do I really have to choose?”

“you’re right. you’ll get both. but you get to choose which you want first. so?…”

your hip hitches around his waist in answer, your heel bearing down on his back until Jesse is eye level with your glistening pussy. 

“mouth it is.” 

brown eyes lift to meet yours as if consciously drinking in the way you come undone in the wake of his hot, open mouth working its way up your inner thigh. his kisses inch closer while all the while falling short of where you truly want them, leaving you frustrated as you let out a soft whine of protest. 

the next time, his breath fans against your soaked underwear. the way he nuzzles his cheek just shy of your quivering cunt is proof that he hears you, even if he delights in making you squirm a little, the brush of his facial hair against your most sensitive skin only serving to stoke the fire in your core.

“you didn’t say you were going to be a tease,” you huff. 

“I told you I was going to take my time.” Jesse’s eyes sparkle. “tell me his version of foreplay wasn’t just two fingers scissoring you open and a little bit of lube.”

“actually—” 

Jesse has no interest in letting you finish that thought. his tongue renders you speechless as it drags through your folds in one long, drawn out lick that has your back arching off the bed and toward his mouth. 

evidently, he’s had enough of pretending he’s not just as eager to taste you as you are for him to. 

your hand finds its way into his hair, impatiently tugging his curls like it’ll urge him on, even though you’ve come to understand that he isn’t one to be rushed. this man wants to savor you.  

still, his hum rumbles through your core like a reward, even as he shows no signs of his patience wearing thin. 

each lick is slow, painfully so. deliberate circles of his tongue over your clit before dipping lower to taste you properly. 

his arms encircle your waist, keeping your hips secure no matter how much they want to shift in search of more. 

rest assured, he will not disappoint. 

it knocks the wind out of you when his lips well and truly seal around your clit. “ohh, Jess.” your head falls back against the mattress as he alternates sucking and lapping. 

you’re already trembling beneath him, fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure builds fast and hot in your belly with each flick of his tongue. 

“when’s the last time someone made you come without asking for anything in return, huh? just the simple pleasure of making you feel good,” Jesse croons. “you know, when I think of him getting to taste you, I get so fucking jealous. he doesn’t know what he has. you’re wasted on him.”

it’s as if the thought fuels him as he doubles his efforts, surging forward kissing and licking like a man on a mission to erase every memory of Noah from your body entirely. he won’t be content until his name is the only one on the tip of your tongue. 

“shit, Jesse, I’m gonna come,” you pant out breathily. 

“give it to me, baby. go ahead and come on my tongue. I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as the pleasure peaks. “that’s it,” his voice muffles against your core. 

Jesse milks your orgasm for all it’s worth, making sure to help you ride it out with soft laps of his tongue and gentle suction until every last shudder fades from your limbs.

when he finally lifts his mouth, he wipes the back of his hand across his lips and smirks, proud of himself.

“if you were mine, I’d spend every day of my life trying to be worthy,” Jesse murmurs, kissing your hip, then slipping a finger inside you.

“Jesse…” your breath hitches. the intrusion comes so soon after your orgasm. you’re still so sensitive, and he knows it, which is why he starts slow with just that one finger, curling it just right. 

that’s all it takes for you to become putty in his hands. 

putty whose face Jesse watches for every reaction like he’s memorizing what makes you feel good.  

“please.” it’s not long before you’re begging for more. 

he’s quick to add a second, stretching you gently as he leans down to kiss your stomach, his lips warm against your skin.

“I’d give you anything you want.”

Jesse’s fingers make a come-hither motion. slow, deep thrusts that curl upwards toward that sweet spot inside you and make your hips rock unconsciously into his hand.  

all the while, his kisses trail higher—up your stomach, your ribs, before he’s burying his face between your breasts, your heart hammering in your chest—and capturing one of your nipples between his lips and biting softly.

you gasp, your fingers in his hair peeling back his head to look up at you. 

“what about your cock?” you manage cheekily. 

his sharp exhale turns into a groan, but he shakes his head. “nice try, but no, honey, not tonight.”

your lip juts out in a pout, but Jesse wipes the sulk right off your face when he puts his mouth back on you whilst his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. 

your face heats at the realization that you’re already wound up again, sensitive and aching. 

“tonight is about you,” Jesse reiterates. “not taking anything for myself. not asking for anything in return.”

that’s exactly what hasn’t worked in the past. tonight needs to be different. he needs to be different. this isn’t about instant gratification.

this is about showing you how you deserve to be treated. 

“Jesse,” you pant, “you’re going to make me come again…”

“good,” he says matter-of-factly. if anything, the knowledge only makes him work harder for it…

your cunt clenches around his fingers and keeps them there, spasming around the length of them buried to the knuckle. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that blissed-out look on your face,” Jesse murmurs. “feels good, doesn’t it? letting yourself be taken care of for once?”

your moan is an affirmative as your second orgasm washes over you, hot and sweet. 

“come sit on my face,” Jesse pipes up. you haven’t even fully come down before he’s patting the bed and settling on his back beside you.

your cheeks burn. “but—” 

“I won’t be satisfied until you do,” he cuts you off. “not until you use me to make yourself feel good, so you might as well give me what I want and come sit on my face.”

you know Jesse well enough to know he means it, and anyway, it’s not like it’s not an untempting offer. 

you tentatively move to position yourself on all fours, but not before Jesse’s fingers dig into your hips, dragging you backwards on your knees until you’re straddling his shoulders. 

then Jesse pulls you down over top of him until your heat is right above his waiting mouth.

“there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

his hands squeeze the curve of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, and god, the first swipe of his tongue has your knees buckling, your hands finding his thighs as you double over.

the scratch of his facial hair is like nothing you’ve ever felt between your thighs. 

every sensation already feels like too much.

the pleasant burn of his scruff as he nuzzles you open. 

the press of his nose nudging against your clit and his tongue following in its place. parting your folds, dipping into your entrance, lapping enthusiastically at your clit…

you can’t help the way you gush, your arousal surely drenching his face as he feasts from behind. 

the new angle has you whimpering, unable to still your restless hips. Jesse flattens his tongue for you, and you ride it, chasing the wet glide of it along your clit. you don’t try to hide your moans as you edge closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night, his saliva dripping from your folds. you grow more and more uninhibited, shameless in your grinding against his mouth, and Jesse increasingly pleased when it becomes evident that you struggle to hold yourself up as you ride out the height of your orgasm against his tongue, your knees going weak. 

what a sight he makes. his scruff drenched, his eyes sparkling as he licks his lips, and you completely oblivious as you now paw at the bulge in his pants from your seat on his chest. 

“Jesse,” you whine, “what if I just sucked you off?” 

his cock twitches against your cheek where it nuzzles against him. 

Jesse chuckles, cupping your chin with his palm and turning your head to look back at him. “I meant what I said.”

“just a taste?”

“as hard as it is to say no to you, I’ve got to.” 

“not too hard, apparently,” you huff. “doesn’t it hurt?”

his hard-on strains prominently against his jeans. seeing him so affected just from giving you pleasure makes your mouth water and stirs you to hunger. 

“a cold shower will take care of it,” he tells you. “thank you for your concern.” he presses a kiss to the skin of your back, “give me five minutes and I’ll be all yours again,” then disentangles himself from you before rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom, and he assumes that’s the end of it. 

the sound of running water follows moments later. as does a muffled curse from behind the closed door, probably because the cold water is doing its job. 

a part of you feels guilty. here he is, being all noble, and all you can think about is how badly you want him inside you.

not guilty enough, apparently. or at any rate not enough to keep from propping yourself against the doorway, fully bare as you enjoy the view before you.

Jesse’s back is mostly to you, water from the showerhead sluicing down the lines of his chest. it’s the body of a touring musician, someone who’s spent years lugging amps and guitars, with just enough muscle to show for it. a body shaped by life on the road rather than in the gym. 

there’s an irresistible softness to him that is your catnip. plushness that yields underneath your hands. 

you bite your lip, imagining what it would be like to have full rein to touch him like this. to hug your arms around his middle, to leave little love bites where only you would see. to trace the lines of his tattoos. 

he hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting his head under the icy spray, doing his damndest to try and cool off.

your hands come up to his shoulders as you rub circles with your loofah over his back.

“you’re playing dirty,” he murmurs, not turning around yet. 

your hands slide down his chest, your body pressing flush against his back. your hardened nipples prod him until he can no longer ignore their presence. 

“I can’t take a shower?” you ask, faking innocence.

“is that what you’re doing?” 

Jesse’s erection stirs to life more insistent than before, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together at the sight of it, delightfully fat with a slight curve you can almost feel hit all the right spots already. a cock made for the taking. 

you reach around him and turn the water hotter, the beginnings of steam fogging up the glass.

he finally turns to look at you, water dripping from his lashes. his eyes drop to where water beads on your own skin before snapping back up to your face with visible effort.

you play coy even as the length of him twitches, drawing attention to the prominent vein along his shaft. 

“do me?” you press the loofah into his hand. 

he stares at the loofah like it’s a loaded weapon. “minx,” he finally murmurs, not unaffectionately. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

he lathers the loofah with your body wash before running it over your shoulders, down your arms, faltering when he comes to your breasts. 

no answer. 

he drags the loofah lower with painstaking slowness, settling just under your belly button. 

“can you get my back?” you reply instead. 

Jesse breathes a sigh of relief, only to discover the supposed act of mercy is anything but. 

your plans are far more nefarious than he could’ve suspected… because the moment you turn your back to him, you back your hips into his. 

his curved cock slots perfectly between your soaped up thighs, the loofah slipping from his hand and dropping to the floor.

it isn’t hard to imagine how good even the smallest bit of friction must feel for him. the plush of your thighs alone seems like a cruel test of his self-control after being so hard, for so long, with lord knows how much precum leaked in his boxers. 

you’re overcome by the overwhelming need to thank him for his patience.

Jesse’s breath hitches, his hips rutting against you based on pure instinct. he braces one hand on the tile in front of you, the other on your hip. “fuck.” his forehead drops to your shoulder. “you’re not making this easy.”

his hips continue to move almost imperceptibly, committing small acts of rebellion against his better judgment. 

Jesse exhales shakily in your ear. 

“why waste a perfectly hard cock?” you kiss the underside of his chin. “when there’s perfectly needy pussy that’s begging for it?”

Jesse’s eyes squeeze shut. 

for a little while, it’s bliss. 

his cock head repeatedly nudging into your clit. the weight of it against you a reminder of just how easy it would be for him to sink inside and satisfy you. 

but he stays true to his word, showing the discipline you wish he was not capable of in this moment as his hand takes over. he plays your clit like he plays his six-string, pushing you over the edge with a dexterity that comes naturally to him given his line of work. 

he supports your weight when you all but collapse, allowing you to go boneless in his arms as he holds you upright with an arm encircling your waist and his other hand curled inside your thigh. you melt against his shoulder, protesting when his cock slips free of your folds, twitching in air. 

you can’t help but feel like a dog being taken away from its favourite toy when it wasn’t done playing. “Jesse…” you whine. 

“we should slow down.” his chest is heaving. his cock is flushed and swollen, precum beading at the tip. 

“it doesn’t make you him.” 

you know it’s what he’s thinking. hell, you can practically see the gears in his head turning as you search his face, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. 

he’s harder on himself than you would ever be.

“I can’t do the whole pretending this doesn’t mean anything in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you say.

“I know. it’s just—if I let this happen tonight,” he adds, lower, “I don’t get to pretend I’m not already in deep. and I don’t think you’re there with me right now.”

and that’s the thing about Jesse… he cares about you in ways Noah never did. enough to stop when he wants to keep going. enough to put your feelings ahead of his own.

“I want to get there,” you say quietly. “maybe I’m not where you are yet, but I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

“you say things like that, and I can’t deny you anything,” Jesse sighs. “which is exactly why I need you to go to bed,” he adds, “before I change my mind.” 

a sinking feeling takes root in your stomach when you wake to an empty bed. 

white hot panic rolls over you in waves of déjà vu. it’s all too familiar. too reminiscent of countless mornings spent alone.

did he leave?

the faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen says otherwise. 

you pursue the sound in your bare feet, following the hallway, and there he is. 

Jesse, in all his morning glory, naked except for a pair of boxer briefs. his hair sticks up in all directions like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into the kitchen, spatula in his hand as he flips pancakes. a pair of round glasses sits crooked on his nose, atop the ever-present lines and shadows under his eyes. 

they persist no matter how many hours he’s gotten. 

he might not be considered conventionally attractive, but you’ve always thought him handsome. here in your kitchen the morning after, he’s absolutely devastating.

he glances up and immediately brightens when he sees you. the ball of nerves that had drawn taut in your stomach unravels so quickly it’s almost as if it was never there.

“hey,” he greets, “you weren’t supposed to be up yet.”

I needed to make sure you were still here. the words stay lodged somewhere behind your ribs. “I smelled food,” you say instead. 

“you’re supposed to be in bed. you’re ruining the whole plan,” Jesse chastises playfully. “go. back to bed. I’ll bring it to you.” 

he redirects you with his hands on your shoulders, and you trot obediently back the way you came, the happiness bubbling full to overflowing with every step. 

the bed is rumpled, still warm when you slip back under the covers. for once, you don’t feel the need to bundle the sheets and purge the remnants of your night. instead you breathe in the scent of Jesse left on the pillow on his side of the bed and let it soothe you.

true to his word, he had stayed. your heart could burst.

from the kitchen, you can hear him moving. soft clinks of plates and utensils, the fridge door opening and closing,... footsteps that make their way to the bedroom.

“okay, don’t laugh.” Jesse proudly presents you with a tray that holds a glass of orange juice, pancakes with goofy little fruit faces, and a small vase with a handful of the wildflowers from your date the night prior.

“why would I? this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say. “I want to wake up to this every Sunday.”

“that can be arranged.”

“I’m serious.”

“so am I.”

“okay,” you whisper, trying to mask the way the words make your stomach swoop like the sudden drop of a rollercoaster.

“okay.”

you eat side by side for a few moments in silence, Jesse stealing pieces of fruit from your plate. he has his own, but apparently he only deigned to give yours the special treatment. 

“hey!” you protest weakly as he snatches yet another blueberry.

“payment for my labor,” he teases.

your phone buzzes—the groupchat checking in—and when you open your messages, Noah’s text sits just below the other text thread at the top as if it’s mocking you. 

your thumb hovers over his contact before finally settling on the block button. Jesse has made it impossible to ignore what you’ve been settling for, and you owe it to yourself, and to Jesse, to stop accepting less than you deserve.

no more settling.

you don’t even realize Jesse had asked you a question. “hey,” he murmurs, attuned to you as always, “you okay?”

you look down at the phone in your hand, then at the breakfast he so kindly made you, then back at him.

“yeah,” you whisper, “I’m okay,” and you mean it. 

“where’d you go just now?”

you unlock your phone and hand it over.

it takes a moment for Jesse to register that you’ve blocked his (ex?) best friend’s number.

“you didn’t have to do that for me,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t.” you pull the blanket over your shoulders tighter around yourself. “I did it for me.”

you think about all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, only to wake up the following morning alone. all the unanswered texts. the careful pretending that you were okay with casual when every piece of evidence that he didn’t care about you like you cared about him hollowed you out a little more.

you did it for that version of yourself.

“I’m proud of you,” Jesse tells you.

if you’re being honest, so are you.

it was about time you were the one closing the door and the one walking out, not the one being walked out on. the keeper of your own peace and the champion of your heart.

you hum thoughtfully. “where do we go from here?”

“I dunno. lazy Sunday… I was thinking the couch… unless you have plans.”

you laugh and tuck yourself into Jesse’s side. 

“you are my plans.”

・┈・୨୧・┈・

The room was still dark when you woke up, with the tiniest slither of light peeking through the curtains. Your alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so you let out a content hum before letting your eyes shut again. But the more conscious you were becoming, the more you noticed what was happening around you. 

The AC was making the room far too cold for your liking, but there was also something warm pressed against your back. Noah was still holding you tight, spooning you, one of his arms resting heavily over your waist, holding you close, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. 

And his cock was still inside you.

You could feel it- soft and warm at first, nestled deep inside you. But as you became more aware, your walls clenched involuntarily, and you felt it slowly twitching, thickening, growing harder inside you. Noah was still half asleep himself, but his body was reacting to you none the less. He pressed even closer, his lips brushing softly against the back of your neck in lazy, sleepy kisses.

A low, quiet groan escaped him as his cock continued to twitch, stretching your sensitive walls again. You let out a soft, breathy whimper at the feeling, which at first felt a little strange and sore, but that feeling was starting to fade into something a lot more pleasurable. 

Noah’s lips moved higher, kissing along your shoulder, then your neck, until he reached just behind your ear. His voice was deep and raspy with sleep when he finally whispered against your skin:

“…Morning, princess.” He gave a slow roll of his hips, pushing his now rock hard cock even deeper into you. The slow drag made you gasp softly. “I woke up hard inside you,” he whispered, his voice thick with sleepy lust as he kissed your neck again. “Couldn’t help it… you feel too good.”

He didn’t thrust hard, he was just giving slow and lazy rolls of his hips, like he was savouring the warmth and wetness of your pussy. His hand slid down your body until his fingers found your clit, rubbing it gently while he continued kissing your neck and shoulder.

You moaned softly, pushing back against him, still hazy with sleep. Noah hummed in approval, nipping gently at your skin.

“Want me to make you feel good again before we get up?” He whispered tenderly, his cock throbbing inside you. “Or do you just want to lie here and let me stay buried in you a little longer?”

He slowly kissed the side of your neck again, while his fingers kept up their gentle teasing on your clit. But when he didn’t get an answer, he stopped moving. 

“You want it, baby?” He asked, his breath warm against your neck as he moved his hand to stroke your hip instead. 

You nodded, pushing back against him gently.

“I do… but I have work this morning.” You said softly, and he sensed the slight hesitation in your voice.

“Baby, it’s only 6am,” he whispered, nipping gently at your neck. “We’ve got plenty of time. Let me make you feel good before you have to go out.”

You hesitated for half a second, but then nodded, and melted back into his touch. 

“Okay…”

You reached back and took his hand, and guided it down between your legs until his fingers rested on your clit again. At the same time, you pushed back against him, taking his now fully hard cock deeper into your pussy, making Noah let out a satisfied groan.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

His fingers started moving in circles over your clit again while he rolled his hips, fucking you from behind. The entire thing felt so incredibly intimate, from waking up still tangled together, to the way his chest was pressed against your back, to the soft little kisses and soft praises he’d whisper between thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Just relax… let me take care of you.”

You let out a soft, breathy moan, pushing back to meet him again. Noah kissed your shoulder, then the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers kept up their gentle rhythm on your clit.

“You feel so good like this,” he said, “My sweet girl.”

His thrusts stayed slow and deep, each one pressing him fully inside you before pulling back just enough to slide in again. The room was quiet except for your soft moans and the gentle sounds of your bodies moving together.

Noah nipped lightly at your shoulder, then soothed it with his tongue.

“You’re getting so close already, aren’t you?” he whispered, his voice full of affection. “I can feel you squeezing me. Don’t hold back, princess. Cum whenever you want to.”

His fingers circled your clit a little faster, still gentle, while his cock continued those slow, deep strokes. You pushed back against him, chasing the pleasure, your breathing growing quicker.

Noah held you tighter, kissing the side of your face.

“That’s it sweetheart, let it happen. I’ve got you...”

The combination of his cock filling you and his fingers on your clit finally pushed you over the edge. You came with a soft, trembling moan, your pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed through you.

Noah groaned quietly, kissing your neck as he felt you cum around him, and he kept moving through your orgasm, slow and gentle, drawing it out until you started to come down. Then his own breathing grew heavier. His thrusts became a little deeper, a little more urgent.

“I’m close, baby,” he murmured against your skin, voice strained with pleasure. “Can I cum inside you?”

You nodded quickly, pushing back against him.

“Please…”

Noah buried his face in your neck and let out a low, shaky groan as he came. His cock pulsed deep inside you, filling you with warm, thick spurts of cum. He held you tightly through every twitch, kissing your shoulder and whispering soft, sleepy praises.

“Fuck…” he breathed, still buried inside you as he finished. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He didn’t pull out. Instead, he wrapped both arms around you, holding you close as his softening cock stayed nestled warmly inside you.

“Stay like this with me a little longer,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to the back of your neck. “We still have time before you have to get ready.”

So you did. You stayed like this for another fifteen minutes, just holding each other and sharing sleepy kisses, until you decided it was probably time to shower. 

You both stood under the water, taking turns stealing the shampoo and conditioner from each other. There was just something so soft and intimate about the way he was holding you, the way he ran his soapy fingers through your hair before conditioning the ends, the way he took his time and put so much care into every little touch. 

By the time you’d both finished in the bathroom, Noah was towelling off his hair while you stood in front of the mirror braiding yours, then you caught his eye in the reflection.

“…I don’t want to go to work.”

He smiled.

“I know.”

“No, I really don’t.”

He nodded his head. 

“Just wanna climb back in bed, huh?” 

You sighed as you tied the little elastic around your hair.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” You turned to face him, folding your arms. “Can I call in sick?”

“You could.” He shrugged. 

Your eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“No.”

You groaned loudly enough to make him laugh, and he wandered over, sliding his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

“What happened to the girl who told me she’d go insane if she didn’t work? Have I really spoiled you that much?” He smirked. 

“It’s not that…” You rested your forehead against his shoulder with another exaggerated sigh. “I just know today’s going to drag.”

He gently rubbed your back.

“Probably.”

“Thanks for the optimism.” You scoffed

“But…”

You looked up. His expression had suddenly changed into one of those knowing looks that told you he was already three steps ahead, and he knew something you didn’t.

“If you can make it to the end of the week… I’ve got something planned for us.”

Your curiosity straight away won over your misery.

“What kind of something?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Noah!”

He shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Maybe...”

“Will you give me a clue?”

He thought it over for a moment… then shook his head. 

“That’s not fair.” You pouted. 

“It’ll be worth it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know.” He smiled, then leaned down and kissed your forehead. “So… if you manage to make it through the rest of the week, I’ll promise to make it worth it.”

…

If Noah’s promise of a surprise at the weekend was the only thing that got you through the drive to work that morning, it certainly wasn’t enough to get you through the shift itself. Because from the moment you stepped through the door, everything just seemed to go wrong. 

The morning rush felt more busy than normal, the card machine froze twice before lunchtime, somebody spilled an entire caramel latte across the floor by the counter, and by eleven o’clock you’d remade three drinks because customers insisted they were wrong- despite watching you make them exactly how they asked. 

By midday your feet were aching and you felt sick. By two o’clock you’d forgotten to take your lunch break because of how busy it’d been, until Tom shoved a sandwich into your hands and guided you away into the staff room. 

By four, someone had complained that their coffee wasn’t hot enough, despite steam still rising from the cup when you took off the lid. But still, you smiled through every interaction and apologised a thousand times, even when it wasn’t your fault. Then, somewhere around five o’clock, your brain simply stopped working.

“Hey.” You looked up as Tom appeared beside the coffee machine. “You alright?”

You blinked, caught suddenly off guard. 

“…Yeah?”

“Pfft, liar.”

You let out a tired laugh.

“I’m just done with today.”

Tom nodded sympathetically.

“Only another hour.”

You groaned dramatically.

“I don’t think I’ve got another hour in me.”

“You do.” He said, then suddenly nudged your shoulder. “And good news!”

“Hm?”

“The new guy starts on Monday!”

You looked at him hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yep. So next week we shouldn’t be running around like lunatics.”

Relief washed over you.

“Oh thank god.” 

The thought alone was enough to keep you going for the final stretch… and before you knew it, it was six. You finished wiping the counters, put away the left over sandwiches and pastries, mopped the floor and finally untied your apron.

You said goodbye to Tom, who promised to close so you could leave just that little bit earlier, then finally, you pushed open the cafe door and stepped outside into the cool evening air.

A familiar black car was already waiting outside, and it made your heart flutter the moment you spotted it. You couldn’t stop smiling as you hurried over, exhaustion forgotten for just a second. But he climbed out before you’d even reached the car.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hi.” You smiled. 

He leaned down to kiss your forehead before reaching for your bag.

“I’ve got it.” He said. 

“I can carry-”

“I know.” But he took it anyway. Then the two of you started walking towards the passenger side together.

“So…” Noah glanced at you. “How was your day?”

You opened your mouth… but nothing came out. 

Instead, the overwhelming feeling creeped up on you again, and your eyes suddenly started to fill with tears, so you immediately looked away.

“…Hey.” His voice softened, and he stopped walking. “What happened?”

You shook your head quickly.

“Nothing.”

“Sweetheart.”

You swallowed hard.

“It was just…” You let out a shaky laugh. “It’s been a long day.”

His face suddenly softened even more, because he suddenly saw it all on you. How tense and stiff your shoulders were, how exhausted your eyes looked, the way your jaw was clenched… 

Without saying another word, Noah stepped closer, and his hands settled gently on either side of your face.

“You made it.” You said gently. 

You looked up at him.

“What?”

“You got through it.”

The lump in your throat somehow grew even bigger.

“I know it doesn’t feel like much right now,” he said quietly, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks, “But I’m proud of you.”

A tiny, weak smile appeared on your lips. 

“I spent ten minutes crying because I didn’t realise someone asked for oat milk. I had to chase them out the cafe!”

He smiled sympathetically.

“It’s okay.”

“And I forgot someone’s muffin.”

“That’s okay too.”

“And-“

“Shh,” he gently hushed, before his hand found yours. “You’re done now, okay? It’s time to come home and relax.” Just hearing him say it slightly eased the feeling in your chest. “You don’t have to stress anymore.”

He opened the passenger door for you.

“I’ve got you.”

You zoned out almost the whole way back to Noah’s, your head resting against the window, and you watched the city blur past as Noah drove with one hand on the wheel. Every now and then he’d glance over at you, like he was just silently checking in, but nothing changed the whole way back. 

He could tell you were running on fumes, and he hated it. 

By the time he pulled onto the drive, you didn’t even realise you’d almost fallen asleep.

“We’re home.” He said as he opened the passenger door, and reached over to unbuckle you. 

You blinked a few times, a little confused and slightly dazed.

“…Already?”

He smiled.

“C’mon.”

This time, he didn’t even give you the chance to reach for your bag. He lifted it onto his shoulder before holding the front door open for you.

The familiar, now comforting, scent of his home hit you the second you stepped inside, and you let out a long breath.

God… it really was starting to feel like home.

Noah locked the door behind you before setting your bag down in the hallway, then he turned to face you.

There was something different about him now… he wasn’t stern or cold, but the way he was looking at you told you that what he was about to say wasn’t up for discussion. 

He gently tilted his head.

“Come here a second.”

You didn’t realise you were still stood by the front door, so you took a couple steps closer, until he could reach you, then he brushed a thumb over your one of your cheeks.

“You’ve had enough today.”

You laughed tiredly.

“I really have.” You frowned. 

His hands settled gently on your shoulders.

“So…” A tiny smile appeared on his lips. “I’m taking over.”

You looked at him curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” he said softly, “…you don’t have to make another decision tonight. I’m giving your brain the evening off.”

Your lips curved into a smile.

“…Okay.”

“I’ve got three jobs for you, baby.”

“Three?”

“Only three.” He nodded, then held one finger up. “First…” He reached into his pocket and handed you his phone. “I’ve written a message for your landlord.”

You frowned. You had completely forgotten to chase up the inspection, to ask if anyone had been out to look at your apartment yet. 

“It says exactly what you need it to, so you just need you to read it, make sure you’re happy with it, and send it to him from your phone.”

You stared at him.

“You wrote it for me?”

“I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Then, he held up a second finger.

“After that…”

He gently turned you towards the staircase.

“I will run you a bath. I want you to take your time in there, relax, use whatever you want… there’s no rush. If you’d like, I can even help you in there, but otherwise,” he held up the third finger, “Come back downstairs when you’re finished, dinner will be ready. I went shopping earlier and bought one of those pizzas you said you liked. I know it’s nothing fancy, but just like you said to me last night, it’s a comfort food.”

Your heart melted, and you suddenly felt tears begin to blur your vision. 

“You don’t have to do any of that for me.”

“I know.” He whispered, “But I want to anyway.”

You smiled.

“…Can I help?”

He shook his head.

“Nope. You looked after me last night, so tonight,” his thumb brushed gently across your cheek. “It’s my turn to look after you.”

You looked at him for a long moment, wondering whether to argue it. But why would you? The heavy, anxious feeling that had been sitting on your chest ever since you’d opened the cafe this morning was gone. Your shoulders had dropped without you even noticing, the constant buzzing of voices and thoughts in your mind had quietened.

He had told you exactly what you needed to do, you didn’t have to plan a single thing or make any choice. Just do as he said. 

And Noah watched as it happened. The way your posture softened and you let out a tiny breath, and he thought to himself there it is. 

He’d been noticing it for a while now. Whenever he gently took charge, you would simply let him, and you’d be so at ease. It was really the only time you’d let yourself relax, and it left him wondering something…

“Go on.” He said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, with a gentle pat against your hip, “Off you go.”

You laughed quietly.

“Yes, sir.”

The words slipped out before you even realised you’d said them, then you suddenly froze, and Noah froze too. For a second, neither of you said a word. Then one corner of his mouth slowly pulled into a smirk.

“…Cute.”

Heat rushed straight to your face.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” He smiled, “C’mon, let’s send this text and run you a nice warm bath.”

…

The bath did exactly what Noah had hoped it would. You stayed in there for almost an hour, surrounded by bubbles, and the scent of lavender filling the room. Noah had stayed in there with you for the first fifteen minutes. You talked about your day, got some things off your chest, and he even washed your hair for you. 

For the first time all day, you finally felt like you could breathe. You weren’t thinking about work, or your apartment, or your landlord, or anything that had been causing you stress. You were just existing, taking all the time you needed, laying back in the water until it began to feel a little cold. 

By the time you wandered back downstairs in the clothes Noah laid out on the bed for you- one of his t-shirts and a comfy pair of pyjama shorts- your hair was still damp, but for the first time since coming back from Paris, your mind felt at peace. 

You heard Noah call your name, so you looked towards the kitchen, and he was stood by the counter, plating up dinner. 

“I was starting to think you’d fallen asleep in there.”

“I could’ve.” You smiled. 

Dinner was nothing fancy- just pizza, garlic bread, two cold drinks and more easy, simple conversation that didn’t hurt your head. It was his turn to tell you about his day now, how he visited his friend Davis (and showed you a picture of his dog), they talked through some merch ideas then he went grocery shopping and saw they had your favourite pizza so of course he had to pick a couple up. 

After dinner, the two of you ended up on the couch. The TV played a nature documentary that you both commented on every now and then, talking about how cute the animals were, about how he and his friends visited a koala sanctuary last time they were in Australia. It just felt so calm, so peaceful. Exactly what you needed after a day like today. 

At some point, you stretched your legs across his lap without really thinking about it. Neither of you said anything about it, but after a moment, you felt his hand gently settle around your ankle. 

“You alright if I…?”

You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm?”

“You’ve been standing all day,” he said, his thumb gently stroking the side of your foot, “Your feet probably hurt.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. 

“...A little.” 

His thumbs began to gently press into the arch of your foot, and you let out a content little sigh at how unexpectedly nice it felt. 

“Is that good?” He asked gently, and you nodded. 

“But be careful, I might just fall asleep if you keep doing that.” 

He let out a soft chuckle, continuing to slowly massage you. 

“And is that a problem?” He asked, glancing back up at the TV. “Just means I’ll have to carry you up to bed… oh no!” 

You let out a chuckle, about to argue, but his warm, strong hands were incredibly gentle, and you felt yourself sink into the comfy cushions. For a moment, the two of you were silent, watching the TV, until he eventually spoke again. 

“…Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head.

“Sure.”

“It’s a slightly strange question.”

That made you smile.

“Go on…”

He looked down at your feet in his lap for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“…Have you noticed how different you are tonight?”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

He glanced back up, meeting your eyes. 

“You’ve been the happiest and most relaxed I think I’ve ever seen you. You’ve smiled more, you’ve not been fidgeting…” He gave your foot a gentle squeeze. “…Do you think maybe.. it’s because your mind finally seems to have settled?”

You thought about it.

“…Yeah. Does it really show that much?”

“It does to me.” He said softly, “Do you know why you feel like this?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. So he gently prompted you. 

“Do you think it could be because you’ve let me take some of that weight off you tonight? Writing the message to your landlord, choosing which bubble bath to use, laying out something for you to wear, telling you what we’re having for dinner..?” 

“...Yeah.” You answered after a moment, “Yeah, it’s definitely made me feel a lot better.” 

He nodded his head slowly, his fingers still working against your skin.  

“I’ve been noticing something for a while.”

“What’s that?” You asked curiously. 

He paused for a moment, taking in a slow breath. 

“Before I say this, I want you to know that I do not think you need someone to rescue you- I know you don’t. I think you’re so incredibly capable, you work hard, you’ve built a life for yourself, and you know just how to handle things. You always will.” 

He paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip before he continued. 

“But… I also think you’re exhausted.” He said simply, and the words hit you harder than you expected. “I hate that you think you have to deal with everything, and carry the weight of it all by yourself.” He added. 

“I don’t really know how not to.” You said, looking away from him and letting out a laugh that didn’t really sound like a laugh at all. “I know no one’s coming to save me… I know that if I don’t stay on top of things, everything will just fall apart. It’s just the way life is, Noah. Some of us have it easy, some of us don’t have a choice.” 

Another quiet moment passed, he pressed his lips together and slowly nodded his head. 

“I completely understand, more than you know baby, trust me. But has it ever occurred to you…” he said, his voice soft, “That maybe you’ve just never had someone that you trust enough to take that weight from you?”

Your eyes drifted back to his, and before you could say anything, he continued. 

“I’m not saying all of it, I’m not saying forever… I’m just talking about whenever things get too much, or if there’s something that you recognise is causing you a lot of stress… let me handle it. Like I’ve done for you tonight.” 

He looked at you for a long moment, his thumb gently stroking your ankle. 

“I took control tonight, didn’t I? I gave you those tasks to do, I made those big decisions for you, and you didn’t argue, you trusted me with everything, and up until about five minutes, you looked peaceful,” he chuckled softly. “I liked seeing you like that.”

You slowly nodded your head, feeling your chest ache a little. 

“Yeah… thank you for doing that, Noah. It really made me feel…” you searched for the right word, “Safe.”

He looked at you with gentle eyes and a soft smile. 

“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say.” 

Then, for a moment, another comfortable silence settled between you two. The TV continued playing, though neither of you really knew what was going on anymore. Then Noah gently moved your legs in his lap until you looked a little more comfortable, then- almost cautiously this time- he spoke again. 

“I’ve been wondering whether there’s a way we could make that feeling something you get more often.” 

You looked over at him again, frowning curiously. 

“What do you mean?”

Then Noah slowly took a deep breath, like he was almost preparing himself, before asking,

“Have you ever heard of a dominant and submissive relationship?”

Your tummy immediately fluttered, but you couldn’t help yourself from smirking. 

“You mean like, ‘who’s your daddy, babygirl?’” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Noah dropped his head back against the couch, trying to hold back his laugh. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” You giggled. 

“I know.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I guess that is the stereotype…”

“So that’s not what you’re talking about?”

“No. Not unless that’s something that two people enjoy.” He looked back at you, “I’m talking about trust.” The smile slowly faded from your face as you realised how serious he was. “I’m talking about one person choosing to take a little more responsibility, and the other choosing to hand a little of that responsibility over.”

You frowned thoughtfully.

“So… the dominant is in charge, right?”

“Yeah, in some ways.” He smiled softly. “But not in the way you probably think. Instead of bossing the sub around, the way I see the dominant’s role is to create somewhere that feels safe. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. So the submissive doesn’t have to be ‘on’ all the time. They put their trust in the dom to care for them, so they can just switch their brain off.” His thumb continued absentmindedly tracing circles against your ankle. “If I were to be a dom, I don’t want someone who’s scared of me, or someone who obeys me because they have to. I’d want someone who’s comfortable enough with me to relax and trust me to make the right choices for them.”

Your heart gave the tiniest squeeze.

“…Like tonight.” You said. 

He smiled.

“Exactly like tonight.”

You thought about it for a moment…

“So… what does that actually mean? If tonight worked the way you wanted it to?”

He leaned back into the sofa.

“It means we’d probably have routines. Tonight seemed to help you, so I’m guessing your brain likes structure.” 

“I don’t think my brain knows what structure is.” You scoffed.  

He gave you a sad smile. 

“So maybe that means I’d tell you exactly how I want your day to look. You’d still get a say, of course, I don’t want you to think I’m taking your autonomy away… but maybe I’d tell you what time to set an alarm for in the mornings, I’d remind you to eat breakfast, then after work it’d be just like tonight- I’d plan the evening out for you, tell you to change into something comfy, remind you if there’s anything you need to do, like texting your landlord…”

A warm smile spread across your face.

“...I think I like the sound of that.”  

“You think?”

You nodded your head. 

“And aren’t there like… rules to things like this?” You asked, “Is there a contract I have to sign?”

He chuckled, his fingers stroking up and down your calf.

“There can be rules and contracts...”

Your eyebrows rose.

“It sounds a bit scary.”

“It shouldn’t be.” He reassured you, “They’re not there to punish you, baby. They’re there to support you. For example, I don’t think we’d have a formal contract, but our rules might be that you text me to let me know you got to work safely every morning, and I might ask that if you’re overwhelmed or you aren’t having the best day, to tell me instead of pretending you’re okay. And if something I did ever upset you, I’d expect you to tell me that too.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head. 

“So it’s not just me following rules?”

“No, not at all.” He shook his head. “I’d have more rules than you, actually.” 

“Really?” 

He nodded his head. 

“The dominant has a hell of a lot of responsibilities.” He explained, “If I were asking you to trust me like that, I’d have a responsibility to earn it every day in every which way, and to respect every one of your wishes. I may be the dominant, but you’re actually in total control, baby.” 

The room then fell quiet as you thought, the TV still playing in the background, completely forgotten about now. You looked down at your hands, unsure what to say…

“So you think this is something that’d actually suit us?” You asked gently, and he shrugged almost shyly.

“…I think this is something we’ve already been doing without either of us noticing.”

You nodded, realising he’s kinda right. 

“…Can I say something stupid?”

“There’s no such thing.” He smiled. 

“I always thought this kind of thing was just like… a sex thing.” You said, your cheeks turning a little pink. 

“A lot of people do.” Noah chuckled quietly. “And it can be. For some people, that’s all it is. But for other people, it’s a whole relationship dynamic. It can be the way you communicate, how you look after each other, the roles you naturally fall into.” 

You nodded your head slowly, though you were too busy wondering,

“Would ours be a sex thing?”

He shook his head with a little smile.

“No.” 

“No?” 

“Not primarily,” he said, “I don’t want the bedroom to be the foundation of this. I want it to be built on trust, communication, and you feeling safe- that’s what I care about most.” He gave your ankle a gentle squeeze again, “The bedroom would just be another place where that trust comes into play.”

“So it could become a part of it?” You smirked. 

He let out a soft chuckle, the expression on his face still calm and reassuring. 

“If you wanted to explore that side of it with me, then yes. We’d talk about it, take our time, and only do what feels right for the both of us. Communication and trust is the most important part of this whole thing, so we’d discuss boundaries, things we wanna explore and the things that are completely off the table, so neither of us are left feeling unsure or uncomforable.” 

You nodded your head. 

“You’ve really done your research on this, huh?” You smiled. 

“Of course,” he said, “I didn’t want to bring it up unless I was sure I understood exactly what I was asking.”

You moved your legs, swinging them off his lap before sitting up straight. 

“So if I agree to this…” you began, “You’re not gonna make me call you daddy at any point?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, his head tipping back against the couch again as he flashed a toothy grin. 

“Why would I, baby?” He shook his head, “...I know there’s a different word you prefer.” 

Your face suddenly felt red hot, but you tried to play it off with a scoff. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh no? That little blush says otherwise.”

“There is no blush.” You folded your arms over your chest, trying your best to look offended though your grin gave you away. “You’re imagining things.”

He smiled knowingly but, to your relief, let it drop.

“For the record,” he said, “I’m never going to tell you what you have to call me. If something feels natural, great. If it doesn’t, we don’t do it.”

You nodded, appreciating how simple he made everything sound.

“…Okay.” So daddy isn’t off the table?

Silence settled between you for a moment, and you chewed on your cheek, another question forming in your mind.

“…Can I ask something else?”

“You can ask me anything, sweetheart.”

“It might sound… really stupid.”

“It won’t.”

You hesitated.

“So…” You looked over at him, a tiny smile creeping onto your face. “What happens if I’m… difficult?”

One of Noah’s eyebrows lifted.

“Difficult?”

“You know…” You shrugged innocently. “If I roll my eyes, sass you, tease you, deliberately don’t do what you tell me to…” 

His expression didn’t change, instead, he looked almost amused.

“You mean what happens if you’re a brat?” He smirked, “…well it depends, would you ever do that?”

“I don’t know.” You grinned. “Maybe.”

He laughed softly.

“I think you probably would.”

“I might… just to see what happens…” You smirked. 

“Yeah, I had a feeling.” He shook his head. 

You watched him carefully, that little teasing smile still on your face. 

“So?”

He thought for a second before answering.

“If you’re teasing me because you’re in a playful mood… then yeah, I’d probably tease you right back, or if you’re purposely pushing me then yeah i’d give you what you want if you’re asking me to punish you- but that’s something completely different that we can discuss. But if you’re pushing back because you’re overwhelmed, upset or anxious…” His expression softened. “…then I’d stop and figure out what’s actually going on.”

“So you wouldn’t just put me in my place?”

He let out a quiet laugh.

“No, baby, not unless I know that’s what you want.” He leaned forward slightly. “Sometimes people joke, sometimes they’re bratty or playful, sometimes they’re stressed. And sometimes they’re asking for reassurance without knowing how.” His eyes met yours. “My job would be to figure out which one it is.”

Your smile faded into a look of soft awe. 

“…You really think about people’s feelings a lot, don’t you?”

“I’d have to.” He shrugged. “If someone trusted me enough with this, then I’d have a responsibility to pay attention to how they’re feeling.” He smiled. “Besides, you strike me as someone who’s a little cheeky.”

Yeah… you couldn’t deny that.

The documentary eventually ended, and the credits ran on the screen. Noah reached for the remote and switched the TV off, leaving the room bathed in the warm glow of the lamp beside the sofa. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Come on.” He said, and you looked up. “I think it’s time for bed.”

You nodded your head. He stood first before offering you a hand, waiting patiently until you slipped yours into it.

“Good evening?” He asked.

“It’s been a really good evening.” You smiled.

“Good. I’m glad.” He smiled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before leading you upstairs.

After you’d both brushed your teeth, Noah had disappeared for a quick shower. You wandered around his bedroom while you waited, absentmindedly straightening the cushion on the chair by his window before immediately laughing at yourself, thinking “seriously? you’re tidying his room now?”

The sound of the shower soon stopped, and a few minutes later the bathroom door opened.

You looked up, and… oh. 

“What?” Noah glanced over, towelling his hair dry.

“…Nothing.”

A smirk slowly spread across his face.

“Mm, doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

Heat crept back into your cheeks as he stepped into the bedroom. He’d changed into a pair of grey joggers and nothing else, his hair dark and damp from the shower, his chain necklace still around his neck, catching the light. He looked too fucking good… it brought your mind back to something you were talking about earlier…

You looked away before he could catch you staring again.

“Oh… you’ve gone shy, baby.”

“No I haven’t.”

“You have.”

You shook your head, letting out a lighthearted sigh. 

“I was just thinking.” You answered. 

“About?”

“…Stuff.”

He laughed quietly, hanging the towel back over the door before walking over to the bed.

“Well, that narrows it down.” 

You climbed into bed beside him, suddenly finding the pattern on the sheets incredibly fascinating. 

“Have you got another question?” He asked. 

You looked up, a little in awe. 

“…How do you always know?”

“Because you’ve got your thinking face on.” He smirked, “You always bite the inside of your cheek when you’re thinking.”

You weren’t even aware you were doing it, but the moment you caught yourself, you stopped. 

“Okay… maybe I do have another question.”

“Then ask away.”

You hesitated.

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

Your shoulders lifted in a small shrug. 

“I don’t know…” You looked down at your hands. “It feels embarrassing…”

Noah’s expression softened immediately, he reached across the bed and laced his fingers with yours.

“Hey, nothing’s embarrassing, baby.” His thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand. “If you’re asking something because you’re curious, if there’s something you want to understand, or you want to know what something might look like…” He smiled warmly. “Those are good conversations. Important conversations.”

You felt yourself relax a little.

“So you don’t mind?”

“Not even slightly.” He smiled. “I’d much rather we talked about something when we’re both relaxed like this than when we’re caught up in the moment.”

You let out a small breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“I think that’s why I want to ask now.”

“Mm, I thought it might be.” He shuffled a little closer to you, but still gave you plenty of space. “So… what are you wondering?”

You laughed nervously.

“I feel like every question I ask tonight makes me sound more clueless.”

“There isn’t a test, baby. And there definitely aren’t any silly questions.” He squeezed your hand. “This is something we’d figure out together, you need to ask these questions.”

The reassurance settled something inside you, and you slowly nodded your head. 

“How would this kind of relationship change what we do in the bedroom?” You asked, your cheeks heating up again. 

He thought for a moment, sitting up a little more against the headboard. 

“It wouldn’t change anything, unless you wanted it to.” He answered, his voice warm and steady. “We’d only go as far as you’re comfortable with. But if we do this… it means I take full responsibility for your body and your pleasure, and there are some slightly stricter rules.”

Noah reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender even as the conversation grew heavier.

“First, we’d have safe words, or maybe a colour system would work better for us,” he explained. “‘Red’ to stop everything immediately. ‘Yellow’ if you need me to slow down or check in, and ‘green’ if you’re good and want me to keep going. You can use them anytime, baby, even if you’re in the middle of moaning my name and your legs are shaking.” He smirked. 

You nodded, listening carefully as he continued, his hand now resting on your thigh under the covers.

“We’d also talk about limits and boundaries beforehand. Hard limits are things that are completely off the table. Soft limits are things we might explore later when you feel safer. The most important part is that you communicate with me, so i know that you trust me to take care of you. To push you, but never break you, and to always put your wellbeing first, even when I’m being rough with you- if that’s something you want.”

“That is something I want to try, actually...” You confessed shyly, “I want you to be rougher with me.”

“And how do you want me to do that, baby?” He asked gently. 

“…Fuck me harder,” you whispered, “Maybe even manhandle me…”

Noah’s smile just grew. 

“Yeah? What about things like choking? Spanking? Degradation?” 

“I’d like to try those things,” you nodded, “Just slowly… and maybe not the degradation part. I don’t like being called bad names or anything that makes me feel worthless…” 

Noah’s expression immediately softened with understanding, and he cupped your cheek tenderly.

“Hard limit on degradation- got it,” he said firmly. “No slut, no whore, no names like that?”

You shook your head quickly.

“Instead, would you prefer that I call you my good girl? My pretty little baby?”

You nodded your head as heat tingled between your thighs, and Noah smiled softly. 

“Got it, and as for the rest… fuck, baby. I love that you want it rough. I’d keep it safe, always watching your face, checking in with you, using that colour system.” His thumb brushed your cheek. “See? That’s how this works. You tell me what you need, what you don’t want, and then I take care of you.” 

You nodded your head, smiling at him. 

“What about you?” You asked, “What’s something you’d like to try? Or your limits. It’s important to talk about you too, right?”

Noah smiled, warm and a little amused, as he pulled you closer so you were half draped over his chest, his hand stroking slowly up and down your back.

“I’m glad you asked,because yeah, it goes both ways.” He thought for a moment, “I don’t have a lot of hard limits, honestly. I’ve tried a lot of things over the years. Rough sex, bondage, overstimulation… I’m pretty open. I’m happy to try just about anything new with you as long as we talk about it first and we both feel safe and comfortable.”

His hand slid down to your ass, just holding you, making you smile. 

“One thing I’d really love to try with you is using toys,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “Vibrators, dildos, those suctions toys that suck on your clit. Maybe even plugs, nipple clamps, restraints… if that’s okay with you of course. I think you’d really like it if we take it slow.”

Your head spun just thinking about it, and you felt his cock twitch against your thigh as he spoke, though you both tried to ignore it. 

“As for rules,” he continued more seriously, “I have a couple that are non-negotiable for me. No gags for you of any kind- whether it’s my cock down your throat or your panties in your mouth- unless we’ve already agreed on a clear, non-verbal safe signal, like tapping my thigh three times or something. I need to be able to hear you. I need to hear your voice saying ‘yellow’ or ‘red’ if something’s wrong. That’s my hard rule. Your safety comes first, always.”

Noah tilted your chin up so you were looking at him.

“I also don’t want to do anything that could cause real harm, no breath play beyond light choking, if that’s something you like, no extreme pain stuff unless you specifically ask for it and we build up slowly. And aftercare is mandatory. Every single time, no matter how rough we get or how gentle it is, I’m going to cuddle you, clean you up, get you water, and make sure you feel safe when we’re done.”

He leaned in and kissed you slowly, deeply, his hand slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin.

“Does any of that sound good to you, baby?” He asked against your lips, his voice husky.

You nodded your head. 

“Yeah… I really like that.” You smiled. 

“Good,” he said, looking in your eyes, “And if you had another bad day like today, you could come to me, hand everything over, and we could use sex- or play- to shut that pretty little brain of yours off.”

Noah’s voice stayed soft and warm as he held you close, one hand gently stroking your back while the other cupped your cheek as you looked up at him.

“Some days you might just need me to be soft with you,” he whispered, “So I’d take you to the bedroom, undress you slowly, and lay you down on the bed. Then I’d spend a long time kissing every inch of you… your neck, tits, tummy… until you’re all relaxed for me.” He brushed his nose against yours sweetly before continuing. “I’d spread your legs and worship that pretty pussy with my mouth for as long as you need, sucking softly on your clit until your mind starts to go quiet. I’d slide my fingers inside you and curl them just right, making you feel so fucking good, until all the stress melts away and all you can do is moan and tremble.”

Noah’s his voice then grew a little huskier as he continued.

“Other days… when your brain is working against you and you need something stronger to shut it off completely… I can be rougher with you, baby. I could pin you down, spank you until your ass is warm and stinging, then fuck you hard and deep until the only thing left to think about in your pretty head is the way my cock feels inside you. I’d choke you just enough to make everything feel more intense, hold you down and fuck you until you’re crying and cumming so hard you forget everything, even your own name.”

He smirked, trying to ignore the way everything he said was making his dick ache. 

“But no matter which way we go,” he whispered against your lips, “I’ve got you. I’ll read exactly what you need that day. If you need gentle, I’ll be so, so gentle. If you need to be ruined to quiet your thoughts… then I’ll ruin you, sweetheart. And afterwards, I’ll hold you, clean you up, and tell you how perfect you are.”

Noah pulled back slightly so he could look into your eyes, his hand still gently stroking your cheek.

“Does that sound like something you want from me?” He asked softly. 

You nodded your head. 

“I think…” you whispered, “This is exactly what I want.”

He smiled. 

“Good. And just so I know where we’re at…” He gently pushed a strand of hair out of your face, “How do you feel about this? About being my submissive?” 

“I want it.” You said firmly. 

His smile softened immediately.

“You don’t have to say yes because it’s me, or because you think it’ll make me happy.”

“I’m not.” You shook your head. “I’m serious. I want this, Noah.”

・┈・୨୧・┈・

to spoil the next chapter in three words... toys. hotel. mask. :)