loves a good chase and the thrill of the hunt, prefers to play with you at night, doesn't hide his demon form from you for added thrill, bites, can't help but follow through to the end and things can get...a little messy
"Little Hunter, hear my song..."
You stifle your gasp behind your hands, bringing them up to your mouth in hopes of them muffling your noise. It's useless, because of the heaviness of your panting and because it's him, but you're desperate at this point.
A trash can clattering to the ground towards the end of the street you're stopped on forces your heart up into your throat. A warning, a chide. He's done it on purpose, this you know. He'd never be so careless.
You hear him chuckle from your right then. No, your left? Maybe he's in your head. You don't doubt he'd go that far.
The richness of his voice, the edge of cruelty you detest you enjoy so much, forces you to bite down onto your lip. Your belly clenches in anticipation, adrenaline, and something much, much more pleasant.
"You know you don't have long..."
You take off in a mad dash down the road, focusing on avoiding alleyways and light posts, footsteps impressively quiet considering the rattling of your breaths. The stillness of the night, even in the city, makes you more aware of what little noise there is.
His breathy and confident sigh feels as if it's the wind, wrapping around your neck like you know his fingers itch to, a brush before a squeeze. You're ashamed to admit your next set of breaths hitch in your throat, coming out more like whimpers in response.
"What a pleasant surprise my Little Hunter wanted to become the hunted..."
He's definitely in your head.
Fuck.
You turn and hop a fence, letting it carry you back north where you had originally come from.
"So very pleasant," he all but moans in your ear, and you stumble, his noise of appreciation landing directly on your already throbbing core. You barely keep your footing as you attempt to keep up your pace.
"I'm going to make sure this is a lesson to you, darling. That you should never keep something like this from me, that I should never have to find something like this out on my own..."
You can't see him, but you can feel him then. His presence. Your body nearly locks up from the profoundness of him near, just as it always has, just as it did since the first time you locked eyes.
You know he's near.
You dig your heels into the pavement harder, ribs aching from how far you're pushing yourself to get away from him.
"So, let this be a plethora of reminders to you, Little Hunterā"
You see him out of the corner of your eye as you pass another alley, the looming outline of his body, the breadth of his shoulders and glow of his eyes impossible to mistake.
You whine, legs turning to jelly, yet you refuse to give up.
"Do not keep such delicious, delicious secrets from me. Me, the one who can give you everything the depraved, shameful side of you could ever want."
You make a mistake and turn down an alleyway, the haziness in your brain from overexertion and arousal becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Syd Barrett letter to his then girlfriend Jenny Spires in 1964!
āDear Jen, you are a little dish. I'll tell you everything that happened at the recording. We took all the gear into the studio which was lit by horrid white lights and covered with wires and microphones. Rog had his amp behind a screen and Niki was also screened off, and after a little bit of chat we tested everything for balance and then recorded five numbers more or less straight off, but only the guitars and drums. We're going to add all the singing and piano etc. next Wednesday . The tracks sound terrific so far, especially King Bee."
Summary: YN, a nurse, joins Bad Omens on tour and quickly finds herself patching up chaos. Especially when Noah keeps needing her help more than anything.
Words: 13.3k
Warnings: mention of blood and burn-out,Ā noahĀ crying a lot, smut p in v, oral maleĀ recieving, mention of alcohol and drunk people, probably wrong medicalĀ stuff
A/N:Ā Some of you may know that I struggled with burn-out not long ago and wanted to write down my feelings in a story
Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.
When you decided to become a nurse after high school, you never imagined youād one day find yourself on tour with four rock stars. Yet, somehow, here you were.
Bad Omens had decided they needed a nurse on tour. Mostly because Noah, along with the others had a bad habit of getting hurt during their Europe leg. In addition to that, there was an unusually high number of fans passing out at shows. Matt, their manager and sound engineer, figured it was time to bring someone along full-time. Someone they could trust.
And thatās where you came in.
You and Matt had known each other since high school. You weren't inseparable, but you'd been close once. Over the years, life got in the way, and your conversations had dwindled down to the occasional āHappy birthdayā or āHope youāre doing goodā over DM. Nothing serious. So when Mattās name popped up in your inbox one evening, it caught you completely off guard.
At first, you stared at the message for a solid five minutes, wondering if he sent it by mistake.
mattxdierkes:Ā hey, random question. u still a nurse?
Your brows furrowed. Was he sick? Did he need help? You typed back, thumbs quick on the screen:
You:Ā hey lol yeah i am. everything okay??
The typing bubble popped up immediately.
mattxdierkes:Ā yeah! all good. actually, i might have a weird offer for you.
mattxdierkes:Ā you busy for the next one and a half months?
You sat up a little straighter, heart kicking up.
You:Ā uhh depends?? why?
mattxdierkes:Ā wanna come on tour with me and bad omens? we need a nurse. for real lol.
You:Ā wait WHAT??
mattxdierkes:Ā seriously. think about it. it's chaos out here. noahās been hurt like 5x already. fans are passing out left and right.
You laughed under your breath, already feeling the rush of adrenaline. Without thinking twice, you fired back:
You:Ā YES. absolutely yes. get me out of this hospital pls.
MattĀ sent backĀ a string of clapping emojis and a "let's goooo."
You werenāt exaggerating.Ā You were desperate to get out of the hospital you were currently workingĀ at.Ā The place was a mess. Short-staffed, overworked, and management was a nightmare. Touring with a rock band felt like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of escape.
And honestly? You needed it.
Which led you here, standing awkwardly at LAX next to the guys from Bad Omens, waiting for your flight to the first stop of the tour. Your suitcases, packed half with yourĀ ownĀ stuff and half with an overwhelming amount of medical supplies, getting a lot of suspicious looks from security.
A TSA agent flagged you down, pointing at your gear. āWhat exactly are you transporting, miss?ā
You fumbled to pull out your hospital badge. āIām a registered nurse," you explained quickly. "Iām touring with a band. It's all first aid stuff, I swear.ā
The agent wasnāt impressed. "We're going to have to check everything manually."
Cue you,Ā practicallyĀ begging, āPlease, IĀ haveĀ to have this. I can show you everything. Iāll unpack it here if you want.Ā Just, please, donāt throw anything away.ā
Luckily, after what felt like a lifetime and some intense pleading, they let you through. You shuffled back over to where the band was lounging near the gate.
Noah, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a hoodie pulled low over his eyes, looked up and smirked. "That took forever. Are you smuggling something in a portable hospital or something?"
You rolled your eyes, dropping into a seat beside Matt. "If you keep getting hurt,Ā you're gonnaĀ thank me for every Band-Aid in those bags."
Jolly, who was scrolling on his phone, glanced up and grinned. "Sheās right. Noahās a walking disaster."
Matt chuckled, bumping your shoulder with his. "Told you we needed her."
Bryan, sipping a coffee, added, āJust wait till Tomorrow. You haven't seen chaos yet.ā
You laughed, already feeling strangely at ease with them.
The flight itself was long but mostly uneventful. You spent most of it flipping through your notes, double-checking that you had packed everything you'd need. When you finally landed and made your way out to the tour buses, you expected to be loaded onto one with the rest of the crew. OtherĀ techs, assistants, security. Instead, Matt threw his arm around your shoulders and steered you towards a different bus.Ā āYouāre with us,ā he saidĀ simply.
You blinked. āWait,Ā with you? Like... with theĀ band?ā
Matt laughed. āYeah. Better to have you close. Trust me, theyāre gonna need you."
You climbed aboard, a little stunned, and found a spot by the window. The bus was nicer than youād expected. Still cramped, but cozy, lived-in. Guitars leaned against the walls. There were random shoes, hoodies, and open bags scattered around. It smelled like cologne and Red Bull.
As the sun dipped lower over the Colorado landscape, painting the sky in oranges and pinks, you settled in, staring out the window in awe.
You didnāt get long to soak it in.
"Uh, nurse!"
You turned to see Noah jogging toward you, clutching his nose, blood streaming down his upper lip.
You scrambled up. "What the hell happened?!"
He grinned sheepishly, blood smeared across his teeth. "Got hit in the face with a soccer ball. Bryanās got a hell of a kick."
You burst out laughing despite yourself. āWow, that was fast. Matt didnāt lie about you being a magnet for disaster.ā
Noah wiped his hand on his hoodie. "Yeah, well... consider this your welcome gift."
You ushered himĀ overĀ to a bench, pulling out your kit like second nature. "Sit. Tilt your head forward. Not back, youāll swallow it."
He obeyed, and you expertly pinched the bridge of his nose, grabbing gauze from your bag. āYou think you broke it?ā you asked, examining the angle.
"Nope. Still pretty," Noah said, grinning at you under his hands.
You rolled your eyes. "Debatable."
Nicholas came up behind him, laughing. "Five minutes on the road and youāre already getting patched up. New record, man."
Jolly leaned against the doorframe, watching. "Should we start a bet? How many timesĀ NoahĀ ends up in her care before the tourās over?"
Matt clapped his hands together. "Iām saying... twenty."
āTwenty?ā you gasped, laughing as you taped gauze under Noahās nose. āYou think heās gonna survive twenty incidents?ā
Matt winked. āOptimism, baby.ā
Once Noah was fixed up, he sprinted off after the others like nothing happened, yelling about a rematch.
You shook your head, chuckling, wiping your hands with sanitizer. āIām gonna need hazard pay,ā you muttered.
Matt dropped into the seatĀ next toĀ you, tossing you a water bottle. āYouāre gonna need a vacation after this tour.ā
As the bus rumbled to life and pulled onto the highway, you leaned back, heart hammering in a mix of excitement and nerves. Tomorrow was the first show. You couldnāt lie.Ā You were thrilled... but alsoĀ kind ofĀ terrified.
Youād heard most Bad Omens fans were incredible. Sweet, loyal, passionate.
But youād also heard the horror stories. The ones who crossed the line. Who could get a little too intense.
You swallowed hard, trying not to overthink it. You were here for a reason. You could handle it.
Before you could spiral into anxiety, the steady hum of the bus and the exhaustion from the day caught up with you, and you drifted off to sleep with the Colorado sunset burning behind your eyelids.
May 4th, 2023. Greenwood Village, CO
It was the first night of the US leg of the tour.
The show had just ended, and the air was thick, electric with adrenaline, sweat, and that heady buzz that only comes after a live show.Ā Voices echoed in the distance, roadies shouting instructions, the hum of equipment being packed upĀ fillingĀ the background.
You were near the stairs, crouched down, carefully repacking your first aid kit. All in all, it hadnāt been a bad night. Only two fans had fainted. WayĀ less than you had mentally prepared for.
You blew out a quiet breath, feeling the tension slowlyĀ start toĀ leave your body. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldnāt be as crazy as you thought.
But then you heard it.
Folio's voice wasĀ sharp and low. Cutting through the noise.
"Noah, dude. Are you fucking bleeding?"
Your head snapped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, the ice pack you were holding slipping from your hand and hitting the ground with a soft thud.
The others turned too. Jolly, who had been laughing with Nicholas a second earlier, immediately went serious. Bryan swore under his breath and started making his way over. Matt was already striding across the floor with a grim lookĀ on his face.
You rushed forward, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Noah was limping slightly, the hem of his shirt torn and stained dark. A deep, ugly gash ran along his left side just under his ribs. Blood was soaking through the fabric, the red spreading fast, and though his face was mostly stoic, you caught the tightness around his mouth, the way his jaw was clenched.
"What the fuck happened?" you demanded, pulling on gloves as you closed the distance.
Noah gave a lopsided shrug, the movement making him wince. "Crowd was fucking insane. I went down to the barricade and..."
He hissed as you pulled the hem of his shirt up to inspect the damage.
"Someone had sharp rings or something. I don't know," he gritted out.
"Jesus, Noah," you mutteredĀ under your breath, already reaching for antiseptic.
You eased him down into a nearby folding chair, steadying him with a hand on his good side. He sank into it with a grunt, his fingers curling tightly around the seat.
As you peeled the bloodied fabric back more, you got a better look at the wound. It was deep. Deeper than youād hoped.
"This needs stitches," you said, your voice firm.
Noah tensed the second the antiseptic touched the wound, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth.
"Iāll be fine," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just slap a Band-Aid on it."
You shot him a look so sharp it could cut through steel. "Yeah, not happening."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, cocky and stubborn as ever. But the pain was starting to show through now, flashing in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.
"Stay still," you ordered, reaching for your suture kit.
Around you, the other guys hovered. Nicholas running a hand through his hair, looking stressed. Folio pacing a few steps away, muttering curses. Jolly standing silently with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in worry. Matt leaned against the wall nearby, arms folded, watching with a grim set to his mouth.
"You need to be more careful," you mutteredĀ under your breathĀ as you threaded the needle, your fingers steady despite the adrenaline thrumming through you.
"Some of your fans are sweet," you said, glancing up at him as you tied off the thread. "Some of them are psychos."
Noah chuckled low in his throat, though it quickly morphed into a grimace of pain.
"Please," he said, gritting his teeth as you pushed the needle through his skin, "you sound like Matt now."
Matt snorted in the corner, shaking his head. "Because I'm right."
You focused on your work, the neat, practiced rhythm of stitching. "You keep playing tough with them, youāre gonna run out of skin to patch," you said under your breath.
Noah was quiet for a second.
Then, softer, he said, "Good thing Iāve got you then."
You felt your face heat up slightly, but you didnāt let it show. You just smirked a little to yourself, tying off the last stitch with a neat knot.
Behind you, Matt groaned dramatically. "Oh my God. Iām gonna puke," he said, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he saw hisĀ ownĀ brain.
Nicholas barked out a laugh, and even Jolly cracked a smile.
You sat back, snapping your gloves off with a satisfied little pop.
"There," you said, giving Noah a pointed look. "You're patched up. Try not to get stabbed again for at least twenty-four hours."
Noah grinned at you, lopsided and a little too charming for someone who wasĀ literallyĀ dripping blood a few minutes ago.
"No promises," he said.
Matt muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "fucking idiot," under his breath, but there was no real heat behind it.
You grabbed fresh gauze and tape, wrapping Noah's side carefully while the othersĀ started gatheringĀ their stuff for load-out.
The adrenaline was still buzzing in your veins, but under it, there was something else too.
Something steady.
A feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were exactly where you were meant to be.
May 6th, 2023. Atlantic City, NJ
Two days later, chaos found you again.
The bus door slammed open with a loud bang, rattling against the hinges. You jerked your head up from where you were sitting, surrounded by a mess of supplies. You were halfway through reorganizing your gear case.
Noah stumbled inside, grinning like an absolute maniac, breathing hard like heād just sprinted across the lot.
"Yo!" he gasped, practically bouncing on his heels.
You narrowed your eyes immediately, already suspicious. "What?" you asked, your voice wary.
Noah didnāt say anything right away. He just lifted his shirt.
Your stomach dropped.
Three of the stitches you had so carefully placed had split open. Blood welled up, fresh and vivid, a dark smear against the pale skin of his side.
"Noah..." you groaned, your voice filled with exhausted disbelief.
He winced, but still somehow managed to look smug. "I was just messing around with Nick and Jolly," he said, like that somehow made it better. "Someone shoved me."
You dropped your forehead briefly into your hand, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself into motion.
"You're unbelievable," you muttered, already snapping on a pair of gloves and grabbing fresh gauze from your kit.
Noah floppedĀ downĀ onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, spreading his arms over the back like he hadnāt just reopened a literal wound.
"You need to be more careful, Noah," you said, voice sharper now as you knelt beside him.
He shrugged one shoulder, the motion stiff. "It didnāt hurt at first," he admitted, watching you work.
"That's because you're running on fumes and pure stubbornness," you said, pressing gauze firmly against the bleeding. He winced but didnāt pull away.
This time, the mood shifted.
Noah grew quieter, less cocky. The air between you softened, humming with something you didnāt dare name yet.
He watched you from under his lashes as you cleaned the wound carefully. His voice, when he spoke next, was softer. Almost shy.
"I like it when you fix me up," he said, almost whispering.
Your hands faltered for a fraction of a second before you quickly busied yourself threading the needle again.
"Stop needing to be fixed," you mutteredĀ back, not daring to meet his eyes.
You placed the last stitch with careful, practiced movements, tying it off neatly. You grabbed a large band-aid from your kit and smoothed it over the fresh stitches with a gentle touch.
Just as you were finishing, the bus door swung open again.
Matt stepped inside, sunglasses perched on his head, a coffee in one hand and pure exasperation written all over his face.
"Seriously, Noah? Again?" Matt said, staring at the scene like he was physically in pain.
Noah immediately pointed an accusing finger at the empty air behind Matt. "Nicolas shoved me!" he blurted defensively.
Matt snorted, completely unimpressed. "Yeah, and I'm sure you wereĀ beingĀ a perfect angel, huh?"
Noah grinned wide, still unapologetic.
Matt turned his gaze to you, raising his coffee cup slightly in salute. "Well, Y/N, good thing I brought you along," he said, shaking his head with a laugh.
You finished taping down the bandage and sat back on your heels, glaring playfully at Noah.
"At this rate," you said dryly, "I'm gonna need a punch cardĀ forĀ every time I patch him up. Free coffee on your tenth visit or something."
Matt laughed, ruffling Noahās hair roughly as he walked by.
"Just try not to need aĀ full bodyĀ cast before the end of the week, alright?" Matt called over his shoulder as he disappeared toward the back of the bus.
Noah looked down at you, a lazy smile pulling at his mouth, the trouble still glittering behind his eyes.
"No promises," he said, his voice low and teasing.
You shook your head at him, trying and failing to hide the little smile tugging at your lips as you began cleaning up your supplies again.
May 12th, 2023. Oklahoma City, OK
It started subtly.
At first, you almost missed it.
Noah still laughed, but a little less each day. His smile was still thereĀ too, but it no longer touched his eyes.
He pounded back energy drinks likeĀ they wereĀ oxygen, but his untouched plates after catering told a different story.
The dark circles under his eyes deepened, blooming like bruises only you seemed to notice.
So you started watching him. Closer.
During soundcheck, you kept your gaze on him between pretending to organize your kit.
Backstage, when the others joked and killed time, you caught him zoning out.
Even during the shows,Ā whenĀ you usually hung out by the side of the stage, half-watching, half-on alert for emergencies. Your eyes always found him.
You saw it happen once. Just once.
A missed cue.
No one said anything, and the fans probably didnāt notice.
But you caught the way his whole body stiffened, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying to hold in a scream.
You didnāt say anything then. Not yet.
Tonight wasnāt any different.
Noah hadnāt eaten a single thing all day.
You noticed.
And from the look Jolly shot him as they prepped for the show, you knew he noticed too.
"Yo, dude. You good?" Jolly asked, keeping his voice casual but his eyes sharp. HeĀ was standingĀ a few feet away, bass slung over his shoulder, adjusting his strap absently.
Noah barely looked up from where he was tuning his mic.
"You look like you haven't slept inĀ likeĀ a month," Jolly added, his tone light but his frown deepening.
"I'm fine," Noah said immediately, a little too fast, a little too sharp.
You crossed your arms, leaning against a case of cables.
"You've said that every day," you muttered under your breath, not even bothering to mask the doubt in your voice.
For the first time, Noah really looked at you.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, like he hadnāt expected you to call him out. Like he hadnāt realized you'd been watching him this closely.
But he didnāt say anything.
He just smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching up automatically, but it didnāt even come close to reaching his eyes.
You caught Folioās eye across the room as he slipped his sticks into his back pocket.
He gave you a small nod, subtle but clear. He saw it too.
"Watch him tonight," Folio said quietly, lowering his voice as he moved closer to you. His shoulder brushed yours briefly, grounding you in the buzzing chaos of the backstage area.
"He's burnin' at both ends," Folio murmured, his eyes following Noahās hunched figure as he adjusted his mic stand again, like if he just tweaked it a little more, maybe everything else would fall into place too.
You nodded slowly, feeling that same knot tighten in your chest.
"Heās been like that for a while now," Folio added, his voice almost lost under the thrum of bass leaking from the stage monitors.
You stayed quietĀ for a moment, watching Noahās hands tremble slightly as he tightened a strap that didnāt need tightening.
Something had to give.
You just hoped you noticed before it did.
May 17th, 2023. Birmingham, AL
The venue was pure chaos.
Crew members shouted over each other, cables snaked like vines across the floor, and Matt was in the center of it all, pacing back and forth with his headset slipping off one ear, practically vibrating with frustration.
"IĀ swear,Ā if this rig doesnāt work..." Matt barked into his iPad, jabbing at the screen like it personally offended him. His voice was sharp, his free hand tugging at his hair as he disappeared backstage again, still muttering threats under his breath.
You caught Noah sitting off to the side, slouched deep into the corner of a battered leather couch, a strange calm settled over him.
Too calm.
You made your way over, weaving through the equipment cases and stressed-out techs, and droppedĀ downĀ beside him.
Without thinking, youĀ reached out andĀ ran your hand gently along his arm, grounding him, needing the contact almost as much as he did.
"Relieved?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice low so it wouldnāt get swallowed by the madness around you.
He shrugged, a hollow, almost resigned gesture.
"If we canāt play," he said, his tone light but empty, "I canāt fail tonight."
Your stomach twisted sharply.
"Noah..." you said, leaning in closer, wishing he wouldĀ reallyĀ hear you. "You donāt fail. You play your heart out. YouĀ are human, Noah."
He didnāt answer right away. His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric like he needed something to do with his hands.
"Some nights," he finally said, voice low, almost like he was talking to himself, "itās all muscle memory. Iām not even there anymore."
The admission hit you harder than you expected.
You wanted to say something. Anything. Anything to pull him back from wherever his mind was spiraling.
But before you could find the words, Matt stormed past again, looking like he was two seconds from throwing the iPad across the venue.
"We go live in twenty or we cancel!" Matt barked, whirling around. "I need a decision, Noah!"
Noah didnāt even flinch.
HeĀ justĀ kept staring at the floor,Ā likeĀ Mattās voiceĀ wasĀ miles away.
He didnāt answer.
You bit your lip, heart pounding. You reached out again,Ā this timeĀ catching his hand, lacing your fingers through his. You squeezed gently, trying to anchor him back to you, toĀ now.
"Are you okay?" you asked, barely above a whisper.
For a second, he just looked at your hands, at the way your fingers were twined with his.
Then he lifted his gaze to yours.
All the walls he usually kept up. The jokes, the stubbornness, the cocky smiles. They were gone.
Just him. Raw. Tired. Frayed at every edge.
"No," he said quietly.
And the honesty in that one word nearly broke you.
May 18th, 2023. Chattanooga, TN
The day was brutal.
The kind of heat that clung to your skin like syrup, thick and heavy, making it hard to evenĀ thinkĀ about moving.
It was 103 degrees outside and somehow even hotter inside the venue.
Everyone was soaked through, faces flushed, moving like they were dragging invisible weights behind them.
Everyone except Noah.
He tore around the place like a man possessed.
Running from soundcheck, to fan meet-and-greets, to helping the crew set up some lighting rig he probably had no business touching.
You watched him dart past again, carrying a case that looked twice his size, face red and sweat dripping down his neck. Like he thought if he just moved fast enough, he could outrun the exhaustion setting into his bones.
You snapped.
"Hydrate or IāmĀ taping you to a chair!" you yelled, loud enough that a few heads turned.
Noah barely even slowed down.
He shot you a breathless grin over his shoulder.
"After the set!" he called back like it was a promise and not a blatant lie.
You let out a frustrated groan and turned, locking eyes with Jolly across the stage.
He gave you a look. One of thoseĀ yep, heās gonna crash and burnĀ looks.
You returned it with a sharp nod.
Jolly wasnāt stupid. He knew it too.
Noah was running on empty, stubbornness, and whatever caffeine he could find lying around.
You pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, feeling the heat and the headache building behind your eyes.
You needed to talk to Matt.
YouĀ wantedĀ to talk to Matt.
You had tried, more than once.
But every time you cornered him. Backstage, by the bus, anywhere you could grab five minutes, something pulled him away.
A tech problem.
A schedule change.
Another fan emergency.
And meanwhile, Noah just kept pushing himself harder, burning brighter, burning faster.
You clenched your fists at your sides, watching him disappear into the maze of cables and crew.
You were running out of time to stop him before he finally broke.
After the final chord of the set rang out, the lights dropped, the roar of the crowd echoing through the venue like a heartbeat.
And so did he.
One second Noah was standing behind the curtain, the adrenaline still buzzing off him in waves.
The next, he crumpled to the floor.
For a moment, everything else stopped.
The world narrowed to a single point.
Folio was the first to move.
"Shit! Someone get over here!" he shouted, his drumsticks clattering to the ground as he dropped down beside Noah.
You sprinted across the stage, heart hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt.
"Hydration tab, now! Get water! Cold towels!" you barked, voice slicing through the confusion.
Jolly didnāt hesitate, bolting toward the coolers.
Nicholas was already shouting at the nearby staff, waving them frantically over.
You dropped to your knees beside Noah, hands moving without even thinking.
You pressed your palm to his cheek and forehead.
It was burning hot, skin flushed and damp with sweat.
"Noah," you whispered, leaning close. "Hey, come on, open your eyes."
Slowly, like it physically hurt him to do it, his eyelids fluttered.
Glassiness swam in his gaze as he tried to focus on you.
"Fuck..." he croaked, voice hoarse and ragged. "Did I pass out?"
You exhaled sharply, part relief, part frustration, part absolute panic.
"Yes, youĀ did," you snapped, yanking a cold towel from Jollyās hand the second he reappeared.
"And next time you ignore me," you added, pressing the towel to the back of Noah's neck, "I'm dragging you off stage myself."
A weak, lopsided smile ghosted across Noahās lips.
"Canāt tell if youāre mad or worried," he muttered, trying to joke, but even that sounded strained.
"Both," you said, voice cracking despite yourself.
The tears stung the corners of your eyes but you blinked them back fiercely, refusing to lose it here.
You heard Matt cursing under his breath behind you but you barely registered anything except Noah.
He let his head loll back, breathing shallow and uneven, trusting you to put him back together again.
Back at the bus, you didnāt leave his side.
You hovered like a ghost, silently switching out cold towels, forcing him to sip water every twenty minutes, even when he tried to bat your hands away with sleepy protests.
Every time he drifted too far, every time his skin stayed too hot for too long, your chest tightened painfully.
YouĀ watched him carefully, the way someone watches something precious they are terrified of losing.
Because no matter how stubborn he was, no matter how much he tried to hide it...
Tonight proved it.
He wasnāt invincible.
May 19th, 2023. Asheville, NC
You couldnāt find Noah anywhere after the soundcheck.
It wasnāt like him toĀ justĀ vanish.
Not unless something wasĀ reallyĀ wrong.
You asked around but no one had seen him.
Finally, Folio caught your sleeve as you passed, his face creased with worry.
"Check the hallway behind the storage crates," he said quietly. "Heās... heās not doing great."
Your heart dropped.
You moved quickly, weaving past cases and gear and tangled cables until the hallway narrowed and dimmed.
And there he was.
Curled up in a corner, half hidden by towering crates, hoodie pulled up over his head like a shield.
His hands were trembling visibly.
His knees were drawnĀ upĀ to his chest, and his face was buried deep into his folded arms.
It looked like he wanted to disappear.
You sank slowly beside him, careful not to startle him.
"Hey..." you said softly.
He didnāt move.
Didnāt lift his head.
Didnāt even flinch.
"I brought snacks and sarcasm," you added, trying to coax a smile out of him. "Best of both worlds."
Still nothing.
The silence between you stretched long and thin.
You hesitated for a second, then reached out, placing your hand gently on his shoulder.
He flinched but didnāt pull away.
And then, so quietly you almost didnāt catch it, he whispered,
"I donāt feel like me anymore."
Your chest ached so fiercely it hurt to breathe.
You squeezed his shoulder, grounding him.
"You donāt have to feel okay all the time," you said,Ā voiceĀ barely above a whisper.
"You just have to let someone in, Noah."
He finally lifted his head a little, just enough for you to see his face.
Red-rimmed eyes. Tear tracks glistening on flushed cheeks.
The kind of broken look that cracked you right down the middle.
"Iām fine," he rasped, but his voice was so raw, so hollow, it shattered the lie before it even finished leaving his mouth.
"Youāre crying," you pointed out softly, not accusing, just stating the truth he didnāt want to admit.
He didnāt deny it.
Didnāt make some sarcastic remark to deflect.
He just wiped at his face angrily with the sleeve of his hoodie, like he could erase the weakness if he scrubbed hard enough.
"I donāt know how to keep up anymore," he whispered, voice cracking.
"Every night I feel like Iām falling apart. And I still go back out there... like itās nothing. Like Iām supposed to pretend it doesnāt feel like everything inside me is breaking."
You slid closer, closing the distance between you until your knees bumped.
You didnāt say anything yet.
You just sat with him in the dark.
Letting him know he wasnāt alone.
He let out a shaky breath, hands digging into his hair, gripping it like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer force.
"Itās like... like no matter what I do, itās never enough," he choked out.
"I scream my lungs out andĀ I stillĀ wonder if they even hear me. I give everything and I still feel empty. I get up there every night and... itās like... itās like Iām screaming into a void that doesnāt care if I bleed."
The words tumbled out faster now, years of pressure cracking wide open.
His whole body was shaking.
You could see how hard he was trying notĀ to completely fall apart.
But it was too much.
Finally, finally, the dam broke.
Noah pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs he couldnāt hold back anymore.
Harsh, broken sounds ripped from his chest, and you didnāt hesitate. You pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around him tight, letting him bury his face into your shoulder.
"Iām right here," you murmured, rocking him slightly as he fell apart in your arms.
"You donāt have to do this alone. Youāre not alone, Noah."
He clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling through the cracks.
May 21st, 2023. Myrtle Beach, SC
Matt scratched the back of his neck, wincing like he was about to get punched.
"Okay, uh⦠so I messed up the hotel reservations," he said, not meeting your eyes.
You blinked at him.
Noah, standing beside you, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"How bad?" Noah asked flatly.
Matt grimaced. "You two have to share a room."
Noah's brow lifted higher, amused. "One bed?"
Matt nodded, looking thoroughly miserable. "Yeah. I booked a room too less. Itās either share or one of you sleeps in the hallway."
You exchanged a glance with Noah. He shrugged, not looking particularly bothered.
"Fine by me," he said, already grabbing his bag. "Not the weirdest thing that's happened this week."
Later that night, the room was quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner.
You lay in bed, facing the ceiling, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing.
Across from you, you heard Noah tossing and turning, the sheets rustling with every frustrated movement.
You turned your head toward him.
"Noah?" you whispered into the dark.
No answer.
Only the faintest sound of whimpering.
You sat up quickly, heart tightening painfully in your chest.
He was thrashing lightly, trapped somewhere deep inside a nightmare.
You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm.
He jerked awake with a sharp gasp, body tensing under your touch. His eyes were wide and wild, chest heaving like he couldnāt get enough air.
"Hey, hey," you said softly, keeping your voice low and soothing. "Itās just me. Youāre safe. Iām right here."
He blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself.
Sweat clung to his forehead, and his whole body trembled.
"Iām here," you repeated, sliding a little closer so he could see youĀ clearly. "Youāre okay, Noah. Itās over."
He nodded shakily and laid back down, but you could still see the way his hands fisted into the sheets, how hard he was breathing like the fear hadnāt left him yet.
You hesitated, then asked gently, "Wanna talk about it?"
He didnāt answer right away.
For a moment, you thought he might brush it off like he usually did.
But then, voice rough and broken, he whispered,
"I dreamt... I dreamt that I was on stage and the lights were so bright, I couldnāt see. I kept singing but... no one was there. The whole place was empty."
You listened, heart breaking all over again.
"I screamed until my throat bled," he continued, voice cracking. "But there was just... silence. Nothing. No one cared. I was just... standing there, bleeding and screaming into nothing."
His voice broke completely then, a sharp, aching sound he couldnāt hide.
Tears slid down his cheeks, and he angrily wiped at them, frustrated at himself for crying.
Without thinking, you shifted closer and pulled him gently into your arms.
At first, he stiffened, like he wasnāt sure he deserved the comfort.
But then he sagged against you, all the fight draining from him.
You wrapped your arms tighter around him, letting him bury his face against your shoulder.
He clung to you like a lifeline, silent tears soaking into your shirt.
"Iāve got you," you murmured into his hair, one hand stroking slow, steady circles across his back.
"Youāre not alone, Noah. Youāre never alone."
He didnāt speak again.
Eventually, his breathing evened out, his body relaxing bit by bit as exhaustion pulled him under.
You stayed awake a while longer, holding him, making sure the nightmares stayed away.
May 23rd, 2023. Raleigh, NC
Noah had stormed off after the set, slipping away before anyone could stop him.
Now, hours later, the exhaustion was bone-deep.
You and Folio had spent the night combing the streets around the hotel, scanning alleys and bars and parking lots with growing desperation.
Jolly and Nicholas stayed back by the bus, just in case Noah circled back on his own.
Matt paced the hotel lobby, phone glued to his ear, barking into voicemails that never got answered.
By 2 AM, you and Folio finally dragged yourselves back to the lobby, shoulders slumped, defeated.
Matt sat hunched in an armchair, head buried in his hands. He looked up at the sound of the doors swinging open.
"Nothing?" Matt asked, voice raw.
You opened your mouth to answer, but the hotel door creaked again.
Everyone's head snapped toward the entrance.
Noah stood there.
Eyes glassy and distant.
Blood dripping from his hand.
His hoodie was half-off one shoulder, his knuckles scraped raw.
"Noah," you gasped, breaking into a sprint. You reached him first, hands hovering, unsure where to touch. "What did you do?"
He gave a crooked, exhausted smile.
"Got into a fight. With a wall. I think the wall won."
You turned sharply to look at Matt, then at Folio.
"Noah⦠are you drunk?" Matt asked carefully, stepping closer.
Noah shrugged, swaying slightly on his feet. "Maybe?"
Without another word, you took his arm. Gently but firmly and started leading him toward the elevators.
Matt and Folio were right behind you.
"Iām gonna text Jolly and Nicholas. Let them know we found him," Matt muttered, pulling out his phone.
In the elevator, the silence was heavy.
Noah leaned against the wall, eyes half-shut, a thin trail of blood still dripping onto the floor.
You squeezed his arm lightly, a silent reassurance.
Back in your hotel room, Noah slumped down at the end of the bed without needing to be told.
Folio dropped onto the mattress beside him, keeping a steady hand on Noahās back to ground him.
Matt helped you drag out your medical kit, spreading gauze, antiseptic, and bandages across the desk.
"Alright, superhero," you said softly, kneelingĀ in front ofĀ him. "Letās see the damage."
You pulled a pair of gloves on and gently took his hand. His knuckles were split open, deep enough that the blood still oozed slow and steady.
You cleaned the wounds carefully, muttering soothing nonsense under your breath.
Noah hissed once when the antiseptic hit, but otherwise stayed quiet, gaze locked somewhere far away.
You stitched him up slowly, methodically, threadingĀ needleĀ through torn skin while Folio kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.
You wrapped his hand tightly in clean bandages, smoothing the tapeĀ downĀ with extra care.
Just asĀ you were finishing the last knot, Noahās voice broke the silence.
A whisper. Barely audible.
"I can't do this anymore."
Everything in the room froze.
Mattās head snapped up. Folioās hand stilled against Noahās back.
You looked up at him, heart thudding.
Matt was the first to speak. "Do what?" he asked, voice rough with confusion.
Before Noah couldĀ choke out aĀ reply, you answered for him, standing slowly, your hands trembling with the force of your emotions.
"Matt," you said sharply. "Donāt tell me you didnāt notice."
Matt blinked at you, confused and tired.
"Notice what?"
You turned, pointing gently toward Noah, who sat crumpled and small at the edge of the bed.
"Matt, heās completely drained. BurnedĀ out. He needs to rest. Heās been running himself into the ground for weeks. And no one said anything."
As you spoke, Noahās shoulders shook silently.
At first, none of you noticed.
But then Folioās eyes widened slightly, and he reached out, pulling Noah into a side hug.
You dropped down in front of him again, placing your hands carefully on his upper arms, grounding him, anchoring him.
You could feel the way he trembled under your touch.
Silent tears streamed down Noahās face, raw and unguarded.
He buried his head against Folioās shoulder, his entire body curling in on itself like he was trying to disappear.
"Hey, Noah," you whispered, voice thick with emotion, "itās gonna be okay. Weāre here. You have us. Youāre not alone."
Matt kneltĀ downĀ beside you, guilt etched deep into his face.
"Dude⦠Iām so sorry," Matt said hoarsely. "I didnāt notice. I shouldāve seen it. Iām sorry, man."
Noah didnāt answer, just shook harder.
Matt reached out too, squeezing Noahās other shoulder gently.
"Weāll figure something out," Matt promised quietly. "Together. I swear. Youāre not gonna carry this by yourself anymore."
The four of you stayed like that for a long time.
No one in a rush to move.
No one willing to leave Noah alone in the dark again.
May 24th, 2023. Raleigh, NC
Matt had cleared Noahās schedule for the day. No meet-and-greets, no soundcheck, no interviews. Just rest.
You were relieved. Honestly,Ā bothĀ of you were. Noah had barely been holding it together lately, and today felt like a breath finally beingĀ let out.
Now, you sat side-by-side on the roof of the tour bus, lemon sodas sweating in your hands, the metal warm beneath you from the dayās heat. The sunset dripped pink and orange across the horizon, smearing the sky like someone had taken a paintbrush and dragged it carelessly. It was beautiful in that messy, aching kind of way.
Noah had slept nearly the whole day. He needed it, that was obvious. Even now, he still looked tired. His hair was messy, pushed back by the breeze, and he hadn't even bothered with shoes, just socks against the roof.
For a long time, you didnāt speak. The cicadas buzzed somewhere off in the trees, the distant hum of the city behind it. Noah tapped his thumb slowly againstĀ the side ofĀ his can, staring off at nothing.
Then, quietly, like he was almost afraid to say it aloud, he said,
"Iām feeling like Iām watching my dream rot."
You turned immediately, heart squeezing at the sound of his voice. The way it cracked slightly at the edges. He wasnāt looking at you; he was staring down into the opening of his soda can like it held the answers.
"I love this,"Ā he added after a second, almost like he had to defend himself.Ā "I do. But... Iām crumbling."
You shifted closer without thinking, setting your can down with a soft clink against the metal. You reached for him, your fingers brushing against his knucklesĀ firstĀ before you threaded your hand through his and squeezed gently. His skin wasĀ a littleĀ cool from the drink, but his grip tightened around yours immediately, like heād been waiting for something to anchor him.
"Hey,"Ā you said softly, squeezing again until he finally looked at you. His eyes were tired, rimmed in faint red, but they wereĀ open.Ā "Youāre not crumbling. Youāre tired. Thereās a difference."
Noah let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite.
"Feels the same,"Ā he muttered.
"Itās not,"Ā you insisted.Ā "Youāre not failing. Youāre just... human. Even superheroes get tired, you know."
Noah smiled a little at that. Small, crooked. But it was the first real smile youād seen from him all day.
"I donāt feel very super lately,"Ā he said, voice low. He leaned his head back until it rested lightly against your shoulder. You didnāt move,Ā justĀ adjusted slightlyĀ so heād beĀ more comfortable.
"You donāt have to be,"Ā you murmured, lookingĀ outĀ at the sky as it deepened into darker pinks and purples.Ā "You just have to be Noah. Thatās more than enough."
He didnāt say anything for a moment. You felt the slow, steady pull of his breathing. The way he let himselfĀ beĀ with you, no expectations, no pressure. JustĀ the two of you, lemon sodas, and the endless Carolina sky above you.
"Thank you,"Ā he said finally, so soft you almost missed it.
You turned your head slightly, resting your cheek lightly against his hair.Ā "Always."
Noah smiled again. Wider this time, the kind that touched his eyes and squeezed your hand back.
May 25th, 2023. Columbus, OH
The yelling echoed through the venue, sharp and unignorable even from the other side where you sat at your makeshift med station, repacking the first-aid supplies from the night before.
You didnāt need to hear every word to understand the heart of it. Voices cracking against the high ceilings, desperate and worn.
"Pressure,"
"Unfair,"
"Fucking tired."
The words carried like smoke, seeping through walls, curling around you even though you tried to focus on your work. You bit your lip, glancing toward the heavy curtains that separated you from the chaos.
Then. A shift.
The curtains stirred, and there he was.
Noah.
EyesĀ glassy, face pale, shoulders hunched in defeat like the weight of the whole world was tethered to his spine. He looked smaller thanĀ usual,Ā like the fight had finally drained out of him.
"I didnāt know where else to go,"Ā he said, voice cracking halfway through.
You didnāt think. You dropped the gauze onto the table and immediately opened your arms.
He stumbled forward without hesitation, collapsing into you with the kind of force that made you take a step back to steady both of you. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer will.
You held him tightly, hands splayed across his back, anchoring him to you.
"Iām losing everyone,"Ā he whispered, the words trembling against your skin.
You shook your head, speaking firmly even though your heartĀ was breakingĀ for him.
"You havenāt lost me,"Ā you said, brushing your hand up and down his back in slow, soothing motions.Ā "And you wonāt lose the others, Noah. Itās just... itās hard for them to see you breaking down. They donāt know how to help yet. But they love you. They're just scared too."
He clung tighter at that, fingers bunching into the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid letting go would mean unraveling completely.
"I donāt want to be broken,"Ā he choked out.
You pulled back just enough to cup his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you. His cheeks were damp, lashes clumped together. You wiped the tears away with your thumbs, gentle but sure.
"You're not broken,"Ā you said, voice steady.Ā "You're hurting. There's a difference. Broken means you can't be fixed. And you'reĀ still here,Ā Noah. Still fighting. Thatās not broken. Thatās brave."
For a second, he just stared at you, breathing unevenly. You could see the battle in his eyes. The part of him that wanted to believe you, and the part of him that was still drowning.
Then. Noises from the hallway.
Heavy footsteps. Voices calling out.
"Noah?"
"Bro, where are you?"
"Come on, man, just talk to us!"
You turned, stillĀ keeping a steadying handĀ on Noah's back as the curtains shifted again.
First Nicholas, looking frantic and guilty. Then Matt, Jolly, and Folio right behind him.
They all stopped short when they saw you holding him, the tension immediately dropping from their shoulders.
"There you are,"Ā Matt breathed, stepping forward. His voice was soft,Ā careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal.
Nicholas scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting from Noah to you, clearly unsure how to start.
"We didnāt mean to..."Ā JollyĀ started,Ā but faltered.Ā "Weāre just worried, man."
Folio stepped in next, crouching slightly to beĀ onĀ Noahās eye level even though he wasnāt sure Noah would look up.
"Youāre not losing us,"Ā he said, voice thick with emotion.Ā "Okay? Youāre stuck with us, like it or not."
Nicholas took a tentative step closer, heart in his throat.
"We get it now,"Ā he said, voice rough.Ā "We shouldāve... we shouldāve seen it sooner. Youāre not alone in this, Noah. You never were."
Matt gave a small, almost sad smile, hands in his hoodie pocket.
"You donāt have to carry it all by yourself, dude. Let us help. Let us be here for you."
Slowly, Noah pulled his face from your shoulder, blinking like he was still trying to process that they wereĀ reallyĀ there, that they meant it.
"Even if youāre tired... even if you feel broken..." Jolly added,Ā "Weāre still here. Always."
For a beat, nobody moved.
Then Nicholas crossed the space first, wrapping his arms around Noah from the side. Matt and Jolly followed, piling into the hug, Folio throwing his arms over all of them. You felt yourself getting caught up in it too, squeezed between them, the warmth and pressure a tangible reminder:Ā he wasnāt alone. Not even close.
Noah let out a wet, shaky laugh against your shoulder, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief.
"Iām sorry,"Ā he muttered.
"Donāt be sorry, bro,"Ā Matt said immediately.Ā "Weāre sorry for not seeing it sooner."
"We love you, man,"Ā Nicholas added, squeezing his shoulder tightly.Ā "Nothingās gonna change that."
Noah sniffled, a real, soft smile finally pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Love you guys too,"Ā he said, voice hoarse but real.
They all held on a little tighter at that.
May 26th, 2023. Grand Rapids, MI
The final note still echoed through the venue, vibrating through the floorboards and into the bones of everyone there. The crowdās deafening roar followed it, washing over the stage like a tidal wave. But to Noah, it sounded far away, muted, like he was underwater.
He strode offstage, mic still clenched tightly in his hand, each step toward the wings making his chest pull tighter, breath harder to catch.
You were waiting just beyond the curtain, heart hammering painfully in your chest as you caught sight of him.
Noah barely made it two more steps before he sank to his knees against the wall, the mic slipping from his fingers and clattering softly onto the ground. His shoulders trembled, silent sobs already racking his body.
Without thinking, you dropped to your knees beside him, gathering himĀ upĀ into your arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He didnāt resist. He folded into you immediately, forehead pressing against your collarbone, fists clutching weakly at your shirt.
A handful of crew members stopped nearby, uncertainty written across their faces. Nobody quite knew whether to step in or give space.
Then Matt rounded the corner, jogging lightly toward the commotion, and stopped dead when he saw Noah crumpled in your arms. His face paled, concern flooding every line of his body.
"Noah?"Ā Matt whispered, voice breaking the stillness like glass.
Through the haze of tears, Noah just shook his head fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. His voice, when it came, was barely audible:
"Too loud,"Ā he choked out.Ā "Too many eyes."
You tightened your arms around him, pressing a soft, grounding kiss against his temple. His skin was clammy under your lips, and your heart ached.
"You were incredible tonight,"Ā you whispered, close enough that only he could hear.Ā "You always are, Noah. Every single night."
Noah shuddered, and then his whole body seemed to go limp against you, the fight bleeding out of him all at once.
You rocked him gently, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back.
"Itās okay to break,"Ā you murmured, lips brushing against his hair.Ā "Iāve got you. Always."
Matt dropped to his knees opposite you without hesitation,Ā alreadyĀ pulling his radio up to his mouth to quietly call for a water bottle and a towel. His movements were quick but careful, trying not to overwhelm Noah more.
Nicholas appeared next, his face tight with worry. He fumbled for the tissue packet in his back pocket and held it out with shaking fingers.
Jolly kneltĀ downĀ too, resting a broad, steady hand on Noahās trembling shoulder, grounding him without crowding him.
Folio crouched on Noahās other side, not saying a word. Just placing a firm, reassuring hand on Noahās knee, a silentĀ I'm here.
For a few moments, the world outside the curtain didn't exist. Just the soft clatter of the crew moving quietly, the distant thrum of the leaving crowd unaware of the scene unfolding backstage, and the fragile, heavy breathing of the boy in your arms.
Noah finally lifted his head slightly, blinking hard against the tears still clinging to his lashes. His red-rimmed, glassy eyes found yours first, locking onto you like you were the only steady thing in a world still spinning too fast.
"Thank you,"Ā he rasped, the words raw but full of meaning.
You brushed his hair back from his forehead gently, giving him a soft, reassuring smile.
"Always,"Ā you whispered back.Ā "Always, Noah."
The others stayed close, creating a protective circle around him without ever making him feel trapped.
The room was suffused with a kind of tender, unspoken hush. A reverence for the moment, for the break in Noahās armor, for the way love sometimes looked less like loud declarations and more likeĀ quiet presence.
You tightened your arms around him slightly, feeling the subtle way he leaned into your touch, trusting you, trusting all of them.
Here, in the dim backstage of a roaring venue, you held him steady. Not in secret, not hidden. But right in front of everyone who cared more than they had ever admitted out loud.
And they would be here, you all silently promised, for as long as he needed.
May 27th, 2023. St. Louis, MO
It was just pastĀ 2AMĀ when a soft, hesitant knock at your bunk pulled you from the edges of sleep.
You blinked groggily,Ā heartĀ already tightening a little because you knew exactly who it would be.
"Hey,"Ā came Noahās voice, a rough, trembling whisper through the thin fabric.Ā "I canāt sleep."
You reached out, pulling the curtain open just enough to see him standing there barefoot, in sweatpants and a hoodie that looked a size too big on him. Eyes glassy, skin pale in the dim blue emergency lights lining the bus hallway.
You didnāt hesitate. You patted the littleĀ emptyĀ space beside you, lifting the blanket invitingly.
"Hop in,"Ā you said softly, your voice still raspy from sleep.
Noah didnāt need to be told twice. He ducked his head and slithered under the covers with you in the way to tight bunk, moving slowly, like he was trying not to break something fragile.
As soon asĀ he was close enough, you shifted to make room, wrapping an arm securely around his middle and pulling him into your chest. His body was stiff at first. Wired with exhaustion and whatever storm still brewed in his chest. But the second your hand splayed across his back, he melted against you.
"Your hoodie smells like home,"Ā he whispered, voice muffled against your shoulder. His cheek pressed into you, seeking every ounce of comfort you could give.
You smiled softly, threading your fingers gently through his hair, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp the way you knew soothed him.
"Iām right here,"Ā you murmured, pressing your lips toĀ the top ofĀ his head.
Noah breathed in. Sharp at first, a stuttering inhale like he was trying not to cry again. Relief. Exhaustion. Safety. All wrapped up into one broken, beautiful breath.
You tucked his arm securely across your waist, holding itĀ thereĀ with your hand so heād feel anchored, tethered to something solid.
"Sleep now,"Ā you whispered against his hair.Ā "You need it, Noah."
He didnāt answer. But he didnāt need to.
Within minutes, you felt the change. The way his breathing evened out, slow and steady, his body growing heavier against yours as sleepĀ finally,Ā finally claimed him.
You stayed awake a little longer, unwilling to move,Ā unwillingĀ to break the fragile peace that had settled around the two of you like a blanket.
Your hand drifted in slow, lazy circles across his back, tracing invisible patterns, grounding him even as he slept.
And as you lay there in the dark, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, you found yourself silently, fiercely grateful, that tonight, you could give him this.
Peace.
Safety.
Home.
All the things he deserved, wrapped up in your arms.
May 28th, 2023. Fort Wayne, IN
The morning was quiet on the bus, theĀ kind ofĀ sleepy peace that came after too many late nights stacked together.
You stood at the little counter in the cramped kitchen, carefully measuringĀ outĀ ingredients for pancakes, trying not to jostle the bag of flour too hard and send it puffing everywhere. A bowl of chocolate chips sat within reach, waiting to be folded in.
You barely noticed when Matt stepped in until you felt him hovering.
He leaned casually against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching you a little too intently.
"Hey,"Ā he saidĀ finally, voice easy but edged with something more serious.
You glanced up, giving him a questioning look without pausing in your measuring.
Matt scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight.Ā "Iāve noticed you two,"Ā he said, tone gentle, almost teasing.Ā "Getting pretty close."
You froze mid-pour, batter dripping slowly from the measuring cup.
"Iām just helping him,"Ā you said quietly, setting the cup down and wiping your hands on a dish towel. There was no defensiveness in your voice. Just honesty.
Matt exhaled through his nose, a small, knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He wasnāt accusing. He understood.
"Good,"Ā he said after a beat.Ā "Because he needs you right now. But..."Ā He pushed off the doorway, stepping closer.Ā His expression softened, voice dipping lower,Ā more protective.Ā "Donāt let him lean on you so hard that you break too."
You turned fully to face himĀ then, meeting his steady gaze without flinching. The sincerity there ā the quiet worry for both you and Noah ā settledĀ heavyĀ in your chest.
"Iāll let you know when I need a breather,"Ā you promised, giving him a small, reassuring smile.
Matt studied you for another moment, then nodded, satisfied.
"He trusts you more than anyone,"Ā he said.Ā "Just... make sure he doesnāt forget how to trust himself too."
You bit your lip, emotionsĀ swellingĀ under your ribs.
Wordlessly, you reached into the bowl of chocolate chips,Ā scoopingĀ a spoonful, and held it out to him like a peace offering.
Matt chuckled, the tension breaking. He leaned forward and plucked a few off the spoon before popping them into his mouth.
"Deal,"Ā you said, voice lighter now.
Matt clapped your shoulder. A solid, grateful kind of touch. One that said more than words ever could.
"Thanks for being his anchor,"Ā he said, squeezing once before letting go.
You watched him walk away, disappearingĀ backĀ down the narrow hallway toward the bunks.
As you turned back to the batter, stirring it gently, a quiet realization settled into your bones:
The band didnāt just rely on Noah.
They were starting to rely on you, too.
And somehow, without even meaning to, you had become part of the thread stitching themĀ allĀ together.
You glanced toward the hallway where Noah was stillĀ sleeping,Ā and smiled softly to yourself.
You wouldn't let any of them fall apart alone.
Not if you could help it.
May 30th, 2023. Des Moines, IA
The next evening, the green room was almost empty, filled only with the low hum of a distant air vent and the quiet rustle of supplies as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, reorganizing the first-aid kit.
Bandages, antiseptic wipes, gauze. You methodically checked every box, every roll, hands moving out of habit more than thought.
You didnāt hearĀ NoahĀ approach at first.
It wasnāt until he cleared his throat. A small, uncertain sound.
He stood just inside the doorway, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair still damp from the post-soundcheck shower. There was a hesitancy in the way heĀ hovered,Ā like he wasnāt sure if he should interrupt.
Without a word, you shifted to the side, making room on the floor.
Noah crossed the room and satĀ downĀ across from you, mirroring your position, his legs folding awkwardly under him. His gaze found yours almost immediately.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. YouĀ went backĀ to stacking supplies, giving him space to find the words he wasĀ clearlyĀ working up to.
Finally, Noah broke the silence, his voice small but steady:
"I donāt think I ever properly thanked you,"Ā he said.
You set down the box of gauze you were holding, giving him your full attention.
"You donāt have to,"Ā you said quietly, meaning every word.
But Noah shook his head, almost fiercely, leaning forward across the scattered first-aid supplies. His hand reached out, tentative at first, then firmer as he took yours, cradling it betweenĀ both of his.
The touch startled something warm and aching in your chest.
"No,"Ā he said again, voice thick with emotion.Ā "I do."
He squeezed your hand lightly, grounding himself. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over yourĀ knuckles,Ā like he needed the connection just as much as the words.
"You saved my life,"Ā he said, the confession tumbling out in a breath. His eyes, wide and dark, searched yours with a rawness that madeĀ it hard to breathe.Ā "On stage. Off stage. In flights. In hotels. Everywhere. You never left."
Your heart clenched painfully. You swallowed hard, forcing back the lump rising in your throat.
You tightened your hand around his, steady and sure.
"Weāre a team,"Ā you whispered, voice catching slightly.Ā "You wouldāve done the same for me."
Noah didnāt look away. His fingers laced tighter withĀ yours,Ā likeĀ he could somehow say the rest of the things he didnāt know how to voice through touch alone.
"Thank you,"Ā he said again, softer this time, like a prayer.Ā "For everything."
The air between you buzzed. Not heavy, not uncomfortable but thick with all the things words would never fully capture.
You gave his handĀ one moreĀ reassuring squeeze and offered a tiny, trembling smile.
"You donāt have to thank me,"Ā you repeated, just as quietly.Ā "Just stay. Thatās all."
And Noah nodded, a promise written all over his face.
He wasnāt going anywhere.
Neither were you.
June 1st, 2023. Omaha, NE
The bus rocked gently beneath your feet as you padded down the narrow hallway, the soft hum of the engine and faint chatter from outside lulling the world into a late-night haze.
As you passed the little kitchen nook, you spotted Noah standing there, half-shadowed in the dim lighting.
The overhead bulb cast a soft, almost golden glow across his features highlighting the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of everything he'd been carrying.
He lifted his head when he saw you, something tender and vulnerable flickering in his gaze.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"Ā he asked, voice low, almost hesitant.
You immediately shifted your path toward him, offering a small smile.
"Of course,"Ā you said.Ā "What's up?"
Noah didnāt answer right away. Instead, he reached out, fingers curling around your hand. His grip was warm,Ā steady, but you could feel the tremor underneath like he was holding onto something delicate and precious.
Without letting go, he tugged you gently toward the front of the bus, pulling you into the living room where the couches and worn coffee table sat in cozy disarray.
He didn't let go of your hand even as he sat down heavily on the couch, looking up at you with an expression so open, so raw, it made your heart ache.
You satĀ downĀ beside him, turning to face him fully, your knees brushing his.
Noah took a deep breath, visibly gathering himself. His thumb rubbed a nervous pattern across the back of your hand.
"Iāve been wanting to say this the whole day,"Ā he began, words tumbling out in a rush.Ā "But... I couldnāt find the right words. I kept overthinking it andā"Ā He broke off, shaking his head.
You squeezed his hand gently, silently telling himĀ toĀ justĀ breathe.Ā Just talk.
He inhaled shakily.
"You..."Ā he said, voice cracking slightly,Ā "you saved my life. Not just the night in Raleigh, or Grand Rapids, or anywhere in between. You saved me every day. Every time you smiled at me. Every time you sat with me when the world felt too heavy to move. Every time you told me it was okay to not be okay."
Your chest tightened, emotion building under your ribs so hard it hurt.
"You made me want to stay,"Ā Noah whispered. His fingers tightened aroundĀ yours,Ā like he was afraid if he let go, he'd lose his nerve.Ā "You made me smile again. You reminded me that... even when I felt broken, I wasnāt unlovable. That I was still worth something."
He looked up at you then, and the sheer vulnerability in his eyes stole the breath straight from your lungs.
"You made me feel like I could be more than my sadness,"Ā he said,Ā voiceĀ trembling.Ā "You made me feel like home wasnātĀ some placeĀ Iād lost. It was right here, in you."
Your breath caught audibly in your throat.
"Noah,"Ā you whispered, barely able to get his name past the tightness in your chest.
He shifted closer, so close now you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hands. Both of them came up to cradle yours, thumbs brushing soothing, reverent circles across your skin.
His eyes never left yours as he said, in a voice so full of certainty it made you want to cry:
"I love you. In every stitch. In every scar. In every broken, battered piece of me... youāre my home."
Tears pricked sharply at your eyes, blurring your vision. You let out a shaky, broken laugh, overwhelmed, heart splitting wide open in the best way possible.
"I love you too,"Ā you choked out, no hesitation, no fear. Just truth.
For a heartbeat, you both just stared at each other, emotions laid bare between you like a map of every scar and every healing wound.
Then Noah moved. Slow, careful, giving you every chance to pull away. And when you didnāt, when you leaned in just as eagerly, he closed the distance.
His lips met yours softly atĀ first,Ā like a secret being shared for the first time.
You sighed against him, melting into the kiss, arms sliding up around his neck as he pulled you closer,Ā closer,Ā like he couldnāt stand a single inch of space between you.
The kiss deepened gradually, growing surer, more desperate, like all the things you hadnāt said, all the moments you hadnāt touched, were finally pouring out.
The world outside faded into nothing. The engineās hum, the distant noise from the venue, even the flicker of the bus lights.
There was only Noah.
Only you.
And the quiet, beautiful truth that had been waiting between you all along.
June 2nd, 2023. Kansas City, MO
The next morning, the bus was already stirring with soft laughter and the smell of brewing coffee when you and Noah finally emerged from the hallway.
His hand was wrapped tightly around yours, fingers intertwined like he wasnāt ready to let you go.
You made your way toward the little dining booth at the front of the bus where the rest of the guys were already gathered, sleepy-eyed but lively.
As soon as they spotted you, JollyĀ let outĀ a low, teasing whistle.
"Well, look at you two lovebirds,"Ā he drawled, smirking over the rim of his coffee mug.
Nicholas, still nursing his first cup of caffeine, lifted it in a lazy toast, his eyes twinkling.
"Congrats,"Ā he saidĀ simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Matt,Ā who had beenĀ sprawled out across the bench, immediately straightened up, grinning so wide it nearly split his face. He slid into the booth opposite you two, leaning his elbows on the table with exaggerated excitement.
"AboutĀ time,"Ā he said, shaking his head like heād been waitingĀ years for this moment.
You ducked your head, cheeks warming, but couldnāt help the smile tugging at your lips. Noah squeezed your hand beneath the table, grounding you with that quiet, steady touch you wereĀ alreadyĀ so hopelessly attached to.
He cleared his throat, glancing at the guys, voice thick but certain.
"She saved me,"Ā he said, giving your hand another gentle squeeze,Ā "and so did you guys. Thank you... all of you. So much."
There was a beat. A soft moment where everything stilled, like the gravity of his words deserved space to settle.
Then, as if theyād rehearsed it, all four of them said at once, voices overlapping with easy, unfiltered affection:
"Of course."
Folio,Ā who wasĀ leaning back in his seat with his arms stretched over the back of the booth, tipped his head toward you both with a smirk.
"Just so you know,"Ā he said, his voice teasing but fond,Ā "IĀ calledĀ that from the second she stitched him up back in Colorado."
You laughed, unable to hold it back, the memory flashing through your mind. Noah wincing, you hovering over him with shaking hands, neither of you realizing that something bigger had already started that night.
You leaned into Noahās shoulder, hiding your grin against the soft fabric of his hoodie. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a small, secret kiss to the top of your hair.
The guys erupted into cheers, clinking glasses, mugs, and even a random water bottleĀ togetherĀ in a loud, messy, absolutelyĀ perfectĀ celebration.
The teasing was relentless. JollyĀ pretendingĀ to wipe a tear, Nicholas fake-offended that no one placed bets, Matt loudly announcing heĀ betterĀ be the best man if thereās a wedding someday. But it was warm, easy, and wrapped in all the chaotic love that had built itself between you all without even trying.
As you sat there, tucked into Noahās side, his hand still clutching yours like it was the only thing keeping him steady, you realized something beautiful. This wasnāt just a relationship.
It was aĀ family.
And you had never been more at home.
June 3rd, 2023. Memphis, TN
The air backstage buzzed with the low hum of crew chatter, the faint rumble of the crowd bleeding through the walls like a living heartbeat.
You weaved through the maze of cables and cases, scanning for himĀ andĀ there, by the monitor world, you spotted Noah.
He was adjusting his in-ears, fingers fumbling slightly, his shoulders wound tight with nerves.
You moved toward him quietly, not wanting to startle him. When you reached him, he looked up, the tension plain in his face.
"Iām nervous,"Ā he admitted, voice low, almost sheepish, as if confessing a secret he wasnāt proud of.
You stepped closer, into his space, feeling the familiar magnetic pull between you. Gently, you reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair back from his forehead, fingertips lingering a second longer than necessary.
"Youāve come so far,"Ā you reminded him softly, your voice steady, sure,Ā "Remember that night? The one when I found you crying in the corner after the show? You were convinced you couldn't do this anymore."
He let out a breath that trembled at the edges, his gaze droppingĀ for aĀ moment,Ā like the memory still hurt to touch.
You hooked your finger under his chin, guiding him to look at you.
"Look at you now,"Ā you said, smiling gently.
His eyes, dark and uncertain, searched yours.
"I never thought Iād make it,"Ā he whispered, almost like he didnāt believe itĀ even now.
Your heart squeezed. Without thinking, you cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the faint stubbleĀ there, grounding him.
"You did,"Ā you said fiercely,Ā "Not just because you had to. Because you chose to. Youāve been stronger than you ever knew, Noah."
He leaned into your hand like it was the only thing holding him up, eyes shimmering with the kind of gratitude that words could never fully carry.
"Thank you,"Ā he said hoarsely,Ā "for believing when I couldnāt. For staying."
You smiled through the emotion thickening your throat. Leaning up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to his lips. A soft, lingering kiss that was part promise, part prayer, part Iām with you, always.
When you pulled back, you rested your forehead lightly against his.
"I am so, so proud of you,"Ā you whispered.Ā "Now go out there. Show them the real you. Show them the heart they fell in love with. The same one I did."
Noah exhaled, a deep, steadying breath. You watched as the tension slowly uncoiled from his frame. He nodded, a small but sure smile curving his lips.
"Okay,"Ā he said, squeezing your waist gently, grounding himself in your touch one last time before he had to let go.
He squared his shoulders, standing taller, a light coming back into his eyes.
And without another word, he turned and strode toward the stage, the roar of the crowd growing louder, swallowing him whole.
You stayed back, hand pressed to your chest, heart full, watching the man you loved step into his light. A light he had built from the ashes, with your hand in his.
June 4th, 2023. Wichita, KS
It was the last night before you would fly back home to LA.
The final show had ended in a haze of cheers and lights and raw magic. Better than either of you could have dreamed. It felt untouchable, almost surreal.
Hours later, in the dim, quiet hotel room, the adrenalineĀ was still hummingĀ beneath your skin, refusing to settle.
Noah closed the door softly behind him, locking the world out. His eyes found yours in the low light, and that unspoken tension. The one that had been simmering between you all day finally snapped.
He crossed the room in two strides, hands cradling your face as he kissed you hard, like he wasĀ starving,Ā like he couldn't get close enough.
You barely made it to the bed before heĀ was guidingĀ you down, hovering over you, his weight a comforting pressure you needed more than air.
You kissed for what felt like hours, slow and deep, the kind of kisses that made you forget what day it was, what yourĀ ownĀ name was.
You tugged gently on the hem of his shirt, breaking the kiss just enough to whisper,Ā "Take it off."
He hesitated, breathingĀ heavy, forehead pressed to yours.
"Are you sure?"Ā he rasped, voice thick with tension, hope, and a trembling restraint that made your chest ache.
You nodded, thumb brushing the sharp edge of his jaw.
"More than sure,"Ā you breathed.Ā "Please, Noah."
He kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent, before peeling off his shirt and tossing itĀ somewhere intoĀ the dark.
Every touch after that felt sacred. His fingers trailed along your collarbone like he was memorizing you, while your hands mapped the planes of his back, the dip of his spine.
You let out a low moan when his fingers found your chest through your shirt, pinching your nipple gently.
You arched into him, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head in one fluid motion.
Noah sucked in a breath, eyes devouring you.
He carefully unclasped your bra, letting it fall away, leaving you bare under his gaze.
"You're so damn beautiful,"Ā he whispered like a prayer, tracing his thumb over your exposed skin.Ā "How do I even deserve you?"
You didnāt answer. You couldnāt. Not with the way his words cracked something open inside you. Instead, you tugged himĀ downĀ into another searing kiss, hands threading through his hair.
You kissed your way down his throat, his chest, his stomach, taking your time, feeling every shiver he gave you.
When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you glanced up at him, asking for permission without speaking.
He gave the softest nod.
You undid his belt slowly, teasing him, hearing the hitch in his breathing. Then you tugged his jeans and boxers down in one swift, confident motion.
You pressed slow kisses to his thighs, feeling him tremble under your touch.
When you finally took him into your mouth, his reaction was instant. A deep, guttural groan that made heat flare between your legs.
You licked the tip first, swirling your tongue, before taking him deeper, bopping your head in a steady rhythm.
After a few blissful moments, his hand found your hair, guiding you gently but urgently, hips stuttering.
"Shit, Iām so close,"Ā he gasped, voice wrecked.
You let him slip from your mouth with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting you still. His desperate whine nearly undid you.
"Why'd you stop?"Ā Noah asked, breathless, wide-eyed.
You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips, smirking against his flushed skin.
"Because,"Ā you whispered against his ear,Ā "I want you to cum inside me, baby."
Noah let out a groan so raw it made your whole body shiver.
"Are you trying to fucking kill me?"Ā he growled, but his hands were already gripping your hips like heād die if he let go.
You kissed him hard, stealing the rest of his sanity, before pulling back just enough to shimmy out of your skirt and panties.
Noahās eyes darkened as he took you in, hands roaming like he couldn't decide where to touch first. He slid one hand down to where you were aching for him, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made you keen.
"Noah,"Ā you whimpered, rocking into his hand,Ā "I need you. Inside me. Please."
He didn't make you beg twice.
Guiding you carefully, you sankĀ downĀ onto him, both of you letting out broken, desperate sounds as he filled you.
You moved slowly at first, adjusting toĀ theĀ sweet stretchĀ ofĀ him, your forehead resting against his.
His hands gripped your waist, and then he was meeting your hips with his own, thrusting up into you hard enough to punch moans from both of you.
"Fuck, you feel like heaven,"Ā he groaned, lips ghosting over your throat.
You rode him like it was the only thing that mattered, skin against skin, messy and beautiful and real.
The room filled with the sounds of your bodies. The wet slap of skin, the choked off moans, the whispered praises, and quiet, breathless laughter when you bumped noses or fumbled, too drunk on each other to care.
You fell over the edge together, clinging to each other like a lifeline, gasping each other's names into the space between your mouths.
Afterward, you collapsed against him, hearts pounding wildly in sync.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, holding you like heād never let go.
YouĀ pressed a kiss toĀ the inked skin of his chest, right over his heart.
"I'm always gonna be here for you, Noah. No matter what,"Ā you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of how much you meant it.
He tightened his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours.
"And Iām always gonna love you,"Ā he murmuredĀ back, sealing the promise with a soft kiss.
You lay there like that for a long time, tangled up in each other, breathing the same air, sharing the same future.
After a while, Noah brushed your hair back and looked at you with something new in his eyes. Something scared and hopeful all at once.
"I know itās still fresh,"Ā he said quietly,Ā "and itās extremely early... but... will you move in with us? With me?"
You blinked, tears stinging your eyes for aĀ wholeĀ different reason this time.
Grinning wide enough that it hurt, you cupped his face between your hands.
"Of course I will, Noah,"Ā you said,Ā voiceĀ shaking with happiness.Ā "Thereās no place else Iād rather be."
He kissed you again, smiling against your lips.
Later, you lay together, already talking about which room would be yours,Ā howĀ youād make it a real home. Not just for Noah, but for you both.
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- They left Japan during their first year of UA high
- came back from America due to job changes so they are starting 3rd year at UA high
- they've known bakugo since they where young due to their parents being friends so they grew up together
-they are 17-18 yrs old (obv...)
I never thought Iād see our old street again.
After two years in America, after two years of strange schools, strange people, and our parents chasing ācareer opportunitiesā⦠stepping out of the taxi in front of our old house felt unreal. The air smelled the same. The pavement looked the same. Even the creak in the front gate sounded exactly like it did when Takumi and I were first years at U.A.
Japan⦠actually felt like home.
āYo, Y/N, grab that box,ā Takumi called from the trunk, already acting like we hadnāt just spent 12 hours on a plane. Classic.
Our parents were talking excitedly on the porchāfinally back in the place they grew up, acting like this whole return thing wasnāt chaotic. They kept saying this move back would be āmore stable,ā ābetter for our future,ā āperfect timing since you two will be third years.ā I wasnāt sure if I believed them yet.
We were still dragging boxes out when I heard a voice behind us.
āTch. Took you extras long enough.ā
I froze for a second.
That voice⦠seriously?
When I turned around, Katsuki Bakugou was standing there with his mom and dad, hands shoved in his pockets like he didnāt careābut the corner of his mouth twitched like he kinda did.
He grew taller. Sharper. More him.
My brother lit up.
āBAKUGOU!ā Takumi practically tackled him with a hug.
Bakugou scowled. āGet off, idiot!ā
Mrs. Bakugou laughed and hugged me tight. āY/N, sweetheart! Youāve grown! Look at you!ā
I smiled politely, but my eyes flicked back to Bakugou.
He looked at me. I looked at him. Silence.
āā¦Hey,ā he muttered.
āā¦Hi,ā I said back.
He clicked his tongue and looked away instantly.
Yep. Still the same.
And somehow⦠I felt my heart flip.
No. Nope. Absolutely not. He wasnāt even nice to me in first yearāI was not doing this again.
But of course, Takumi invited him inside without warning, and Bakugou ended up helping us move in like it was his job. He kept grabbing the heaviest boxes just to prove something, grumbling under his breath every time our hands brushed.
By the time we finished, the sun was already down.
Tomorrow was Monday.
Tomorrow⦠I was walking back into U.A. as a third year.
Greetings, lovesā I am so excited to say that I am now focusing on posting an original short story EVERY NEW MOON for the next year !!! YAAYYY.
My short stories will cover a variety of topics. I tend to write a lot of weird, strange, and heart piercing narratives. I donāt like basic or boring. Complex themes and allegories are my fucking jam.
Some of you know about my black lesbian fantasy story dropping on TUESDAY OCTOBER 21stš«°š¾ I have hinted at it and will promote it in the coming weeks.
Founding member subs are the ones who will receive everything, including exclusive access to my novel progress and be the first people to have access to my writing/revising services. It is donation based, with a suggested price between $120-500 yearly, but can be higher if you choose to be sooooo kindš¤ (these costs help with the publishing of my novel).
Okay thatās all I have. I hope you all join my little Substack family, or at least share with those who love original literary fictionš„¹š«¶š¾