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anon in my inbox said fanfic writers who wrote about dark and taboo topics were not “real writers” because of what they wrote about.
reblog if you believe anon is wrong and writers are writers, no matter what they write about. no matter how they portray these taboo topics.
reblog if you believe art can be about topics that are controversial, taboo or outright disturbing, and artists who create controversial, taboo or outright disturbing art are as valid as artists who create art of conservative values.
It's hot outside. Have you been drinking water? Did you put on and or reapply sunscreen? Are you making sure to stay cool?
Please take care of yourself because believe it or not you are loved. But if being loved isn't enough of a reason to take care of yourself then do it to spite your enemies. It'll the biggest middle finger to them as you drink cold water and put sunscreen on.
It's still hot. Did you all remember to drink some cold water? Did you remember to put on sunscreen if you went out and to reapply it as needed? Did you remember to flip off the sun and your enemies before laughing at them because neither their heat nor their hate can bring you down?
CW: swearing, mentions of alcohol, description of drunkness, insecurity, sad!Noah, the slightest depiction of anxiety, flirting.
Part 4 [Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (+18 only)
A/N: hi! here's part 4! So sorry for the delayed update but life has been happening and the heatwave didn't really help either 🙈 Hope you enjoy it! ✨It's a longer chapter than I anticipated but I wanted to give a bit more space both to the group and the group dynamic and the shift in the relationship. Let me know what you think!
Shoutout to @takeme1st for making me discover the jam that is "Stad i ljus", a little piece of swedish culture! 💜
PS. If I forgot to add someone to the taglist, or you'd like to be added for the first time, please let me know in the comments!
@runningincircl3s just published her fantastic first chapter for a similar fic "summerboy" so does @choillysblog with her oneshot "booked together" 💜
Disclaimer: These are fictionalized versions of the band members. Their actions and personalities in this story are entirely products of my imagination and are not intended to represent the real people in any way.
Everything happened so fast that, now, being squished among those people, you weren’t even sure what were you doing in the elevator in the first place.
The whole cabin filled with conversations about alternating heel lifts and front leg kicks and how they were supposed to be good for osteoporosis. You bit back a loud laugh that was bubbling in your chest, bowing your head down, you still couldn’t contain a wide grin, your lower lip still caged between your teeth.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Noah who was already looking sheepishly at you. He had his lips pressed together, and a funny look on his face. Before bursting into a shared laughter you looked away, trying to gather yourself just a bit.
Then you felt it. A light weight touch, so soft that you almost imagined it.
You felt Noah’s finger searching, reaching for your hand, gently brushing it as if asking for permission. Instinctively you reached out.
Your fingers danced a bit with each other, getting accustomed to the new sensation. Noah’s skin was so soft but you noticed the calluses on his fingertips from years of playing guitar. They were quite a stark contrast with how his skin felt overall.
Eventually, he took the courage to intertwine them. His warm, large palm enveloped yours.
That’s when you fully turned your head, your gaze locked with his.
His features were softer, more relaxed, his jaw finally slacked, a toothy grin welcomed you. Without ever losing your gaze, Noah brought your hand to his lips, pressing them, ever so delicately onto the back of it.
The deep intimacy of that moment, made your body become rigid. As much as you wanted it, wanted this, there was still that part of you that was afraid of getting a bruised knee, as Bob said.
He told you. He was ready to explore, ready to get to know what has been building up until this point between you two. But, you? Were you actually ready? Or have you been too focused on him to sort out whatever was going on with you?
You swallowed a very heavy lump in your throat, feeling your breathing shortening more and more. Noah must’ve felt something shift in you because you felt his grip tightening.
“Well, that’s us” Noah’s voice cut through your thoughts. A few “sorrys” were spoken before managing to get off the elevator and started walking.
“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be interrupted with a conversation about bones and water activities, but we’re through now” he laughed.
You were a few steps behind him, hands still laced together. Noah did a double take, trying to gauge how you were, then he suddenly stopped closing the distance. “Hey” he whispered “are you with me?”
You nodded, suddenly very shy.
“I was thinking, how’d you feel if we get a moment to ourselves and talk for a bit?” his eyes looked for yours, a hand caressing your hair.
Reassured, you nodded a bit more enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’d like that”
“What about my room? It’s here on this floor”
The “room”, well the straight up flat they had, was completely empty. The atmosphere completely different from trivia night.
The space was cramped or, better, felt like it. A tangle of wires, phone charges most probably, sat in a corner, cables flying everywhere as if there were tiny spider legs. Hoodies and jackets adorned the sofa and a few chairs around the dinner table. Mugs with half drank coffee scattered around the coffee table beside a worryingly large amount of redbull cans.
“Who needs THAT amount of energy drinks?” you pointed at the small group of blue cans on the coffee table. “Do we need to be ready for an imminent heart attack?”
Noah snickered, shaking his head. “I think it’s a very serious issue, Noah” you retorted, a very tiny smile blooming.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it y/n, but I think we have something else more important on our hands today, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.
“We can’t sit on the sofa, can we now?” you deflected, nerves starting to bubble in your stomach. Noah took a quick glance toward the furniture before bowing his head “I was thinking we can do it in my room” he murmured. “You know, just making sure no one is bursting in at any moment” he concluded, his hand gripping his bicep trying to sooth himself.
“Oh…” is all you could muster. Your hands picking nervously at the cuticles.
His room wasn’t exactly different from the others you visited. You stood by the door, taking in the scenery. It was a bit bigger than yours and your friends, but what struck you the most was the huge balcony, almost a terrace, he had. Not only that, but on the right corner you spotted a tiny circular pool, you guessed it, a jacuzzi, sitting on a raised platform.
You couldn’t help your reaction: eyes widened and mouth wide open. “What the fuck is that, Noah?” you stuttered pointing towards the window.
“Y/n” your name sounded stern once it left Noah’s mouth. “Please, I get it, I’m nervous too, but I think we’ve gotten to a point where there’s no going back.” He settled on his bed, back supported by the headboard while his long legs were splayed on the mattress.
Unsure of your steps, you took the armchair tucked under the little table in his room, spinning it in order to face across from him. You brought your knees to your chest.
Silence settled between the two, loud and very heavy.
You kept playing with the hem of your socks, chin on your knees. You took a few deep breaths just to ground yourself, trying to slow down your heart which was going way too fast for your liking.
“You know, if you’d had asked me a few days ago what I wanted” your voice was barely above a whisper “I would’ve said having a moment like this, between me and you to talk through what happened that first time.”
Your gaze pointed in his direction but not on him. Instead, you spotted, on the bedside table, a notebook with an elastic band keeping it closed. It looked jam-packed. Little pieces of paper spilled over the edges, curling at their sides.
“I…I wouldn’t know what to say now” you concluded. Eventually, your eyes found Noah. His fitted shirt gave away how quickly he was breathing, while he busied himself playing with the few rings on his fingers. He looked so focused on what he was doing, that you wondered if he listened to you in the first place.
After what felt like ages, Noah pulled his head up, holding your gaze. His dark eyes never yielding, a slight frown on his face.
The air became heavy, thick, almost unbreathable.
Two people on the opposite corners of the room. Frozen in their spot, words stuck on their tongue. Still too afraid.
The stare - off accompanied by the low rustle of the air - conditioning.
“I..” Noah broke eye contact. His voice wavering. “I’m so lost” He went back to fiddling with his rings, once again.
“I am too Noah” you chimed in. “I feel like we’ve tangled ourselves into something before even knowing what it is.” The man simply nodded.
Silence fell again. This time even more tiring, even heavier. It felt like trudging through mud, exhausting steps towards a still undefined destination. This silence smelled like surrender.
A deep defeated sigh left Noah’s mouth, while his hands aggressively rubbed his face before finding his hair, running through it hurriedly.
Tilting his head towards the bedside table, his hand hovered over the notebook, as if pondering, one last time, the course of action. Shakily, he picked it up, placing it ever so gently on his legs, smoothing the cover out.
Clearing his throat, Noah opened it, starting to flick through the pages. Occasionally, he licked the tips of his fingers trying to get through them without getting stuck together.
Eventually, he landed on the part of the notebook he was looking for.
“Please…” he simply stated, holding out the pad to you.
You were stunned. Mouth agape, brain completely shut off. Putting your legs down, you leaned forward to catch the notebook.
While you were scanning the two pages in front of you, you caught Noah whispering “I don’t think I can be more articulate than… this.”
Now it was his turn to curl up, knees to the chest. His head hidden behind his legs.
The pages were worn out, crumpled. Several black - inked scribbles adorned the space. Some others were heavy pen strokes. Behind them you could piece together words which were aggressively scored out.
Among that chaos, just a few, scattered phrases dotted around the space were untouched.
Trying to pick up the pieces, making sense of it all.
You're just a mirage.
You’re burnt skin, one breath away from falling apart.
And I'm not that afraid little boy anymore, so why am I trembling?
You can't be what I need. Imagination playing tricks on me.
A wave of sadness washed over you. During the past few days, you were so focused on yourself and planning the very next move that you hadn't, even for a second, thought about him and what it could have meant for him.
Clearly it wasn’t something he took lightly. You found him, still huddled up into himself, his long arms circling his legs; his face still hidden, hair covering it.
Your stomach sank, a large lump formed in your throat.
Your first instinct was to lunge toward the bed, giving him a big hug, reassuring him that everything would be okay.
Fighting this urge, you decided to stay put. Looking outside the window, you noticed how the sun was now covered by a few passing clouds, casting a slight shadow on you.
Goosebumps appeared on your skin. Scrambling to get some words out, you let out a choked gasp.
Your fingers traced the heavy ridges the pen had carved into the paper, your heart aching for the boy who wrote them.
A stray tear began wetting your cheek, prompting you to quickly dry it with your fingers.
“That takes a lot of courage” you broke the silence, voice louder than you expected.
Noah didn't move a muscle. He stood hidden.
“You have a very vivid way of writing, Noah” you tried a different approach, hoping that the man could give you some feedback.
Still nothing.
Refocusing your eyes on the written notes beneath you, an idea struck your mind.
You put yourself in motion. On the very same bedside table where the notebook laid, there was a very consumed pencil. Trying not to startle him, you made your way traversing the room.
Picking it up, you spotted, on its top, some indentation and some discoloration.
Does he bite his pencils and pens?
The very thought made your heart soften even more.
Getting more comfortable in your seat, now cross - legged, you laid the two pages open on your thigh. Instinctively, you picked up a strand of your hair, begging to twist it times and times again in sign of deep concentration.
The room went still for a few minutes, the dull noise of your pencil marking the paper was the last thread connecting you and Noah. Sensing the change of pace, Noah looked up, peering through his lashes.
Your tongue slightly poking out of your mouth was the first thing he noticed. Your face was in a relaxed position, eyes glued to the page. Your hair was now falling almost onto your eyes eliciting a frustrated groan on your part, and a continued annoyed flicker to let it out of the way.
He quietly giggled to himself, shoulders slightly trembling from the vibration of his chest. He was happy just to take a few more moments to properly look at you.
Your hands were tracing quick strokes on the page. Conveying a message turned out to be more difficult than you thought. You weren’t as in touch with your inner world as Noah. He clearly demonstrated it through those intimate sentences.
You wanted it though. You wanted it so bad, but still the distance with your emotional side was too wide for you to bridge in this single sitting.
So you resorted to what pulled you through before: art and creativity.
“Here” you said, putting the pencil between the pages.
You moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down, handing him the notebook.
Noah eagerly took it, quickly reaching for the pages where you’d just worked. You watched him intently, your eyes occupied with scanning his face, every change in his microexpressions.
Too anxious to stay still, you changed your position on the bed, a leg propped under your ass, while the other grounded you to the floor. Well, it was more like your way of soothing yourself through the continual bouncing of your knee, tapping your foot rhythmically to a loop of a song in your head.
“Is this how you view us, y/n?” Noah broke the silence chuckling. His eyes slowly moved from the page to your face.
You gave a faint nod, your teeth biting aggressively at your fingernail.
You noticed how his thumb was delicately caressing the area where you drew.
On the page, there was a drawing. The strokes weren’t neat, precise. They were messy, chaotic. The heavier ones formed two silhouettes, unmistakably you and Noah, standing very close together. Yet, their expressions were strained, almost depicting pain. Their heads were pulled backwards by a swarm of faceless hands which were gripping and tearing them apart from behind.
Giving you one last look, Noah took the pencil, starting to scribble down something in that tight space left. A few seconds later the notebook was, once again, in your hands. Noah had added the sentences he wrote to the drawing, writing them behind his side, his hands.
“I meant every single word I said in that elevator” he started. “But I still am haunted by ghosts. They’re not as loud anymore, but sometimes they knock and they demand to be in control. I am afraid y/n. Fucking terrified.”
You heard a low sniffle. “My life taught me that good things don’t last. At the very least the fizzle away, and, at the very worst the break irreparably.”
His gaze was now fixed on the very dark clouds covering the sky, giving the atmosphere an almost claustrophobic feeling.
“I want to do this with you, I really do, but…” a faint crack in his voice could be heard “but it’s all so temporary. What do we have? Ten days? Not even? And then what?” He picked up his rings, passing them through his fingers.
“I don’t want to start something just to end it in a few days. It’s too big of a deal for me. You’ll get back to your bones and analysis, or whatever and I’ll go back to - he stopped himself for a moment finding the right word - to music.”
From the progressively louder tone he was having, you could tell that he was getting himself worked up.
You leaned across the bed, reaching for his hand. “Noah” you said sweetly, “Look at me.” Your fingers wrapped around his large palm. He shifted his gaze, landing where your hands met. Immediately, he intertwined his fingers with yours, tightening his grip on you. You could feel the light sheen of sweat covering his palm.
“I am afraid too. And you’re right, this is too delicate, too intimate just to be over once the cruise is. But we could talk it through and create our own personal dynamic.” you tried to comfort him.
“I am so scared that I can’t think straight. It is all very new for me too” you admitted, your thumb caressing the mandala tattoo on his hand. “I dig up bones for a living Noah, don’t you ever think that I am better at handling these kinds of matters than you are” you chuckled. That earned a sincere laugh from him.
From afar a violent thunder clapped, its echo reverberating through the ship windows. That was immediately followed by the loudspeaker's chime. After a brief crackle of static, the captain’s deep voice filled the cabin.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. Due to the severe storm we are currently passing through, all outer decks are now closed to the public. We kindly ask you to remain indoors and to use caution when moving about the ship.”
You both looked up where the source of the sound was.
“I… I should probably go” you stuttered, “The girls are probably looking for me.” Noah did hum. Yet your hands didn’t leave one another, you kept your thumb on his tattoo, tracing the outline of the mandala.
Both of you were frozen in your spot, trying to soak up the last drops of each other’s presence before separating.
"NOAH?!! a voice boomed. Your breathing accelerated, eyebrows shooting upward.
Davis.
“NOAH, DUDE? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” his voice was getting closer. Noah looked as panicked as you were, mouth open in an attempt to come up with something, but what left his mouth were just choked breaths.
A very loud knock on the door startled the both of you. Terrified and completely caught off guard, Noah let out a panicked, high-pitched whine instead of a coherent word.
There was a beat of silence in the hallway before Davis yelled through the wood, “Are you having a wank? OH C'MON DUDE!”
You slammed a hand over your mouth to stifle a gasp, or a laugh, you weren’t even sure anymore. Noah looked utterly mortified, his face burning a bright crimson.
“Look, the guys are going to grab a drink before getting ready for dinner,” Davis continued, his voice dripping with amusement. “After you’ve… sorted yourself out,” he heavily emphasized the words, “you wanna come too?”
Noah threw his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes in agony, still unable to find his voice.
“Folio went to grab the girls,” Davis added through the door, completely oblivious to the silent crisis inside. “That guy is seriously hooked on them. So, hurry up!”
The warm lighting in the main lounge of the ship gave a comforting atmosphere against the cold, violent rain lashing against the panoramic windows.
Above the low chatter of voices, the wind could be heard, sweeping and crashing against the pointier parts of the ship.
When you walked in, you spotted the group huddled up into a circular table. Alcohol was already served, half - drunk wine glasses were scattered around the already stained white tablecloth.
Noah had already arrived, a hand on his glass, the other lazily laid across the headrest of the chair where Nicholas was sitting.
As you approached, his eyes immediately snapped into yours. For a fleeting second, the noises of the room went quiet and you two were the only people left. Each of you still reminiscing the sensation of your touches and caresses of your hands.
“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!” Chloe’s voice boomed wildly, shuttering that little bubble.
Rolling your eyes, you took the last free spot which, conveniently, was right beside Noah.
“Where have you been?” Sarah chimed in “We thought the storm had thrown you into the ocean” she joked.
You forced a casual laugh, trying not to get your voice too strained. “I just found a very nice, secluded spot, and I stood there for a while, reading”
“Mmmmh, a book, sureeee” Chloe commented, already lost in the drinks menu. You snickered, glad that the interrogation was very brief. Sarah was already occupied with Folio and Jolly, the three of them engrossed in conversation.
A deep sigh escaped your lips. Your shoulders slumped, but you couldn’t help it. Throwing a sidelong glance, you found Noah already smiling, hiding it behind the glass brought to his mouth.
The whole interaction wasn’t lost on Emma. Seemingly focused on a conversation with Davis, your friend had kept her eyes peeled the entire time.
She clocked every single little change.
The way your eyes found Noah’s the second you entered the room;
The way a very small, but still genuine smile painted your face;
The way your cheeks flushed ever so slightly;
The way your body was quite relaxed being near him. Miles away from the rigid and stiff posture you had the very first day being around him.
She giggled to herself, busying herself with swirling the glass of wine trying to hide her amusement.
That brought a weird expression from Davis. “Did I say something funny?” he genuinely seemed confused.
Emma froze for just a second, figuring out that maybe her reaction had been a little out of place in regards to the topic he was developing.
“Oh no, no, Davis” she immediately answered “I’m so sorry, but what you said just brought up quite a funny memory.” Davis just nodded, carrying on his, at this point, monologue.
So caught up with the recent discovery of her friend’s change in attitude, she searched for them once again. However, before she could reach them, she intercepted Nicholas’ gaze.
His clear eyes were fixed on her. They held a quiet, grounded look.
It was as if the both of them mirrored each other’s realizations. Nicholas, too, had noticed the subtle changes in Noah.
He had been restless for a few days, almost to the point of being cranky, abrasive.
He had some sleepless nights, and the way, one day, he decided to put on his arrogant mask was the final nail in the coffin to know that something was up.
At the same time, seeing him react to you, caught him completely off guard. The lightness of his expression, the way his shoulders slumped a bit when you sat beside him.
The look the two friends exchanged was a loaded one.
“Do you see that too?”
Nicholas answered with an imperceptible nod “Yes, I do too.”
Although very observant, the two of them knew that if something was going to be brought up, it could easily wilt.
In that fraction of a moment a pact was struck: Nicholas and Emma chose to keep an eye on their friends, holding them in this new, uncharted territory.
The tension finally broke once the waiters brought out the first course. With food on the table, the aromas traveling through the room, it offered a welcomed distraction from the heavy thoughts still lingering in your mind.
With a deep appreciative hum for the risotto which was in front of you, you allowed yourself just to be present, to tune out the anxiety for a second and simply enjoy the comfort of the moment, the hum of the chatter, and the quiet relief of being right there.
Words flew lightly above the table, banter and laughter were the centerpiece of the conversation.
“It’s not that I’m always cold Noah, it’s you that sets the AC at polar temperatures” grumbled Jolly, his voice starting to slur a bit from all the alcohol he’d drunk.
“You’re fucking Swedish, dude! You should be used to them” Noah quipped, amused frustration bubbling in his voice.
“Don’t put me in a box, man, not all Swedes are very good at handling colder weather” he fought back, crossing his arms on his chest “besides, it’s at least ten years since I moved to the US, so….”
“So what?”
“So I had to acclimatize to YOUR temperatures”
At a loss for words Noah shook his head in disbelief making the table erupt into loud laughter.
As he was throwing his hands up in mock defeat to Jolly, you felt a tentative brush against the edge of your shoe. You froze, your fork suspended an inch above your plate.
Noah’s long legs had shifted towards you, his foot nudging yours with a slow, deliberate pressure. He let it rest there for a moment, as if getting used to the closeness.
Stealing a sideways glance at him, you found him wrapped up in a conversation with Nicholas and Emma, nodding along to whatever his friend was saying.
You shifted your weight, nudging his foot back.
That was all the permission he needed.
With a swift motion he moved his ankle, gently hooking it around yours. Once again, he stilled his movements as if asking permission to keep going.
As he got it, he dragged, deliberately slow, his shoe up the curve of your calf a couple of times before settling his ankle down still entwined with yours.
That brief gesture sent hot shivers down your spine. You caught your breath, your fingers tightening around the stem of your wine glass to keep your hand from trembling.
Sensing your reaction, Noah finally turned his head. He brought his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip. Over the rim of the glass, his dark eyes locked onto yours, a tiny, almost invisible smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Little shit. You thought, a playful defiance starting to rise to the top. You’ll get it back once the right occasion presents itself.
“Ladies and Gentlemen” Folio screamed, tapping his hands vigorously on the table “who’s excited for karaoke night?” a shit eating grin on his face.
“I AM” Chloe shouted back, raising her glass in the air.
After dessert and several drinks later, the cruise staff fixed a laptop and a projector on a very small, makeshift stage.
“Well, that’s cheap,” murmured Sarah.
Emma immediately nudged her with her elbow “Babe, please..” a stern look on her face.
“What?!” Sarah answered frustrated. “If I wanna play superstar, that’s not what I need.” She kept going. Her inhibitions already gone. Dramatically she turned to her left, her eyes landing on Folio who was watching the whole scene unfold.
“Tell her Nicky Nick Nick” she slurred “Tell her that’s not how a rockstar performs. We need a…” she gesticulated disjointedly towards the stage “what do you call it? Performing platform?"
Emma couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing along with Folio. “That’s right Sarah” he chimed, “Superstars cannot perform in such dire conditions” he nodded convincingly.
Before anyone could stop them, Chloe, Emma, and Sarah scrambled onto the makeshift stage, stumbling slightly over each other’s heels. The staff handed the first microphone to Sarah, who almost dropped it, her giggles echoing sharply through the cheap speakers.
The generic karaoke track began to play, and the unmistakable intro of Pocketful of Sunshine filled the room.
You almost choked on the gulp of wine you were drinking, coughing and snorting.
“This goes out to our resident grump!” Chloe yelled into her mic, pointing a finger directly at you.
It felt like the whole room turned towards you, even the boys.
Among the faces, you recognized Bob’s who was grinning, waving at you.
Sarah nodded vigorously, leaning heavily against Emma's shoulder to stay upright. “Yeah! She acts like she’s all tough and hates fun,” Sarah slurred into the microphone, gesturing dramatically. “Always looking at us like she wants to murder us. But we know the truth! Deep, deep, incredibly deep down, under all that armor... she is a giant softie. And she deserves all the sunshine!”
You felt a violent wave of heat rush straight to your face. Wishing the cruise ship would suddenly sink just to swallow you whole, you buried your face in your hands, groaning audibly. Next to you, you could hear Noah’s low rumble of laughter. It wasn't a mocking one; it was warm and the vibration of it practically buzzed against your side.
“Look at her, she’s melting!” Emma’s voice boomed through the speakers as the three of them began to sway, completely out of time, and launch into the first verse.
Desperate for a distraction, and wanting to hide your burning cheeks, you took advantage of the fact that every single eye in the room was glued to the stage. You slid your hand off your lap. Slowly, seeking comfort as much as a distraction, you pressed your palm against Noah’s thigh under the table.
His laughter stopped, but his posture didn't stiffen. Instead, you felt the muscle beneath your fingers relax, welcoming your touch under the fabric of his trousers. You didn't look at him, keeping your face half-hidden behind your other hand, but you let your fingers give his thigh a gentle, lingering squeeze. A silent plea for shelter from the embarrassment.
Noah let out a soft breath. The next second, his large, warm hands settled gently over your shoulders. From the outside, it looked like a comforting, friendly gesture.
But then, his touch shifted.
His hands slid slowly up the sides of your neck, his fingers long and incredibly warm against your skin. His thumbs began to trace slow, soothing circles right behind your ears, right where your pulse was racing. The contrast of his rough, calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin of your neck sent comforting shivers down your spine.
He leaned in closer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, completely shielding you from the rest of the room. His breath fanned your ear, smelling faintly of his drink.
“A giant softie, huh?” he murmured. His voice was low, entirely lost beneath the girls screaming the chorus on stage, but it vibrated straight to your core. One of his thumbs slid down to press gently against the hollow of your throat, right over your racing heartbeat. “I knew it. I can feel it right here.”
You let out a shaky breath, your hand on his thigh tightening just a fraction. You didn't feel exposed anymore. Surrounded by the chaotic noise of your friends and the bright lights of the stage, Noah had just built a quiet, safe little world around the two of you.
The last notes of the song faded while your friends tried to clumsily bow.
Cheers, applauds and whistles roared from your table; the boys all stood up, cheering your friends on.
Noah’s hand snapped away from your neck, but your hand lingered on his thigh. Under your palm, you felt his muscles go rigid, the sudden reaction of a man making sure they hadn't been caught.
As soon as the three women reached the table, Chloe boomed “who’s the singer here?”
Five pairs of eyes landed on Noah who acknowledged it by nodding slightly.
“That’s how it’s done” drawled Sarah "Watch and learn kid” she concluded by putting her arms on her hips.
Noah raised his hands in mock surrender, a low chuckle vibrating through his chest. “I’ll take notes,” he stated.
Before anybody could say, or do, anything even more embarrassing you cut through “How about some water and some coffee Sarah?”
Somehow, that stopped her rambling, making her stop and think. Eagerly nodding, she said “that sounds nice.”
Giving one last pat on Noah’s thigh, you stood up, making your way to Sarah, leading her to the cafeteria to sober up a bit.
The two of you stood in that quiet part of the ship for a while, Sarah sipping her coffee while you stared at an empty coffee table, picking your nails.
The comfortable silence that fell between you two was a welcomed pause from the mayhem that it had been in these last few days.
Deep in your thoughts, you lost track of time until you felt a hand touching your shoulder.
Immediately you smacked it.
“Ouch” Davis winced. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked.
“I’m so sorry” you laughed “no, it’s just that I didn’t hear you coming towards us.”
Davis shot a confused look between you and a very sleepy Sarah. “Anyways, I was asked to pick you up because we’re approaching Jolly’s performance” he stated enthusiastically.
“And…? We need to be summoned because…” you retorted slightly annoyed by the very reason you were being called.
“I won’t spoil it for you!! You need to experience it in full and without knowing much” he concluded, a toothy grin spreading.
That piqued your attention. A full song with Joakim singing, not the backing vocals, but the lead AND a surprise performance?
Turning your head towards your friend, you found Sarah completely asleep, head resting on her arms crossed on top of the table.
“Don’t worry about her” Davis chimed as if reading your mind. “I’ll get her to her room and ensure that she’s taken care of.”
“Are you sure? What about Jolly’s secret performance?” you teased.
“Naah, I’ve already seen it quite a few times. But that’s a treat that he offers us or he’s just so wasted that he gets nostalgic…” he goggled at you, shaking his head. “I’ve already said too much. GO AND BE QUICK” he hushed you along towards the exit.
Giving one last look at the unlikely pair, you hustled along.
What greeted you once you reached the lounge was quite a sight to behold. An elderly woman was singing quite a beautiful melody, maybe a love song, and the majority of her peers were standing up, or straight up dancing with their significant other. Some others decided to stay on the sidelines, but still showing affection through hand holding, or whispering sweet nothing to each other's ears.
Your heart swelled out of tenderness.
You were getting an intensive course on the promise of “getting old with someone” y/n.
Just as the last notes of the song faded, you reached your table, settling beside Noah.
After the brief update on Sarah and her journey toward her room, Jolly slammed his hands on the table.
“Now, who’s ready for a treat?” he snickered, his gaze glassy.
The boys cheered him on, raising their glasses and screaming “go on Jolly”.
He stood up swaying a little. Once his balance was reacquired, he made his way to the stage.
The wait between him reaching the stage and the start of the karaoke stretched a bit.
“What do you mean you don’t have it in your database?” asked Jolly, a shocked expression on his face.
The staff member who assisted with the karaoke looked equally perplexed and defeated.
He stood there for a minute, gaze fixed on the pc before scrambling, or better attempting to, off stage bolting to the table.
You watched amused to what was unfolding in front of you, a smile hidden.
“It’s gonna be sooo good y/n” Noah’s deep voice overlapped the background noise. He was so close to you, to your ear, that you could see your hair moved by his breathing.
“Have you already seen it?” you asked, still keeping your head and eyes on the guitarist.
The screeching of the microphone halted the room, eliciting a few annoyed hums through the crowd.
“So sorry for the delay ladies and gentlemen. My name is Jolly… Well, not really my name is Joakim, but you can call me Jolly.” His right hand was playing with the cable.
“Now, as we’re approaching sleep time, I wanted to end the night with something traditional that we Swedes do once it’s time to go home.” he explained “there’s this song that’s called Stad i ljus.”
For a moment, Jolly scanned the room. “Now, I need from you one thing. We sing it huddled up in groups, so please, get your neighbours, form a group, and let the music take you away.”
A steady hand enveloped your waist bringing you closer to Noah. The group formed a little huddle while the very first gentle notes of the song came through.
At first, awkwardness meandered through the group, some starting to sway their hips a bit while others, including you, were still very much in a more rigid position.
Sheepish looks were exchanged between the six of you, a collective realization of how intimate and close that situation must’ve felt for everyone.
Slowly but surely, building up to the chorus, Folio picked up the melody, singing along with his bandmate mouthing gibberish. Forcibly swaying from side to side, gripping Nicholas’ shoulders.
The bassist followed; before with his body, matching Folio’s pace then with his voice. Finally, Noah joined in. The three of them bawled out gibberish, almost screaming along with their friend who, on the contrary, was so into the performance, that at this point he had his eyes closed and a hand on his stomach feeling the song.
The three of you couldn’t help it. You picked up the pace of the men’s swaying, listening to the song for the very first time.
Turning your head towards Noah, you found him with a big smile on his face, eyes warm and crinkles at their sides. His hair moved with the rhythm of his movements.
In that moment you caught him carefree, just a boy singing with his best friends, his arm heavy and warm around your waist, as if pulling you into his world. Feeling your gaze, his eyes flicked down to yours, the smile softening into something private. Something meant only for you.
The closing notes played, giving Jolly the time to scream a drunken “THANK YOUUUU!!!” and for you all to applaud and shout, cheering him.
“That was fantastic” Chloe exclaimed the moment Jolly reached the group.
“I know” the man nodded vigorously, “that’s like our second anthem.” He plopped down the chair “what a fucking treat to end the night” he said to himself.
Still buzzing from the excitement, Chloe picked up her glass, “one last toast before bed guys”
A chorus of clinking glass was heard as everyone brought the cocktails in the air.
“I wanted to toast to us, I’m so glad I met you guys, someone our age to experience this holiday with” chuckles left everyone’s mouths.
Then, she proceeded “And I guess I’d need to thank destiny or fate or whoever is up there pulling the strings. Because you never really know what life is going to throw at you, but standing here tonight... I feel like we’re making the most of every single second we have.”
Under the table, his warm hand found yours, giving it a tight squeeze that perfectly punctuated Chloe’s words.
“TO US!” She screamed
“To us” the rest of the group shouted back, clinking their glasses.
You and Noah’s gazes met. Both of you sporting a soft, intimate smile.
“To us” whispered Noah offering his glass.
“To us” you answered back, lightly brushing your glass against his.
The loud chatter of the lounge started to fade. Little by little everyone made their way to their respective rooms.
“I’m going out smoking” you announced heading towards the deck that, hopefully, could be of use despite the rain still falling.
Out on the promenade deck, the world shrunk down. Your senses could take a bit more time processing because of the lesser stimuli you had.
The humid sea air hit you first, a sharp chill that made the skin on your arms instantly prickle with goosebumps. Overhead, the heavy cloth canopy groaned softly under the weight of a steady downpour, shielding you from the worst of it, though a bit of the salty mist still danced in the wind, settling on your eyelashes and cooling your cheeks.
You heard the heavy door hiss, then gentle footsteps followed. Noah was a solid, towering presence beside you, completely unfazed by the weather. He stepped closer, effectively blocking the sharpest gusts of wind with his broad frame.
“Weren’t you supposed to be smoking your last cigarette here?” he mocked looking at your tight arms wrapped around you. “Cold?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate right through the soles of your shoes.
Before you could answer, the cruise ship gave a slow, heavy roll, tilting as it cut through a swelling wave. Your footing slipped on the damp wood of the deck.
In a fraction of a second, Noah’s hand shot out. His fingers wrapped securely around your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you flush against him to steady you. The heat radiating from his chest seeped through your clothes instantly, a striking contrast to the cold air biting at your back. He didn't let go. Instead, his hand slid slightly higher, his palm flattening against your spine, holding you in the space he’d created for you.
You looked up, your breathing hitching. In the dim glow of the deck lights, his dark eyes searched yours.
Your fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of his jacket, holding onto his warmth. “I didn't just come out here for the rain and the cigarette,” you confessed softly, your voice barely louder than a whisper, yet perfectly clear over the sound of the crashing waves.
Noah’s gaze softened, his chest rising and falling against yours.
“I just... I really wanted to have one last moment alone with you,” you admitted, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Before going to bed.”
A beautiful, incredibly soft smile broke across Noah’s face. “Yeah?” he murmured, the low vibration of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “Me too.”
Driven by a sudden, overwhelming surge of courage and all the tension that’s been building all night, you didn't wait. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his.
But it was too sudden. Too hard. It was an impetuous, clumsy rush of emotion, and the force of it caught both of you off guard. For a fraction of a second, your teeth clashed, and the desperate hunger of the gesture felt like a loud, dissonant string against the quiet of the night.
Noah froze for a split second, too aware of the sensation of your lips on his teeth.
Realization hit you like a brick. Too much. You’ve gone too fast.
Mortified, you pulled back abruptly, your hands dropping from his jacket as you staggered half a step away. Your cheeks burned, instantly flushing a deep crimson despite the cold wind biting at your skin. You couldn't meet his eyes, suddenly feeling incredibly small, exposed, and deeply intimidated by your own boldness.
“I’m sorry,” you stammered, looking down at the wet wood of the deck, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to…I should just go to bed…”
“Hey,” Noah’s voice was like velvet, cutting softly through your rising panic.
Before you could retreat any further, his hand caught your wrist. He didn't let you run. Gently but firmly, he pulled you back into his warmth. His other hand slid under your chin, his long fingers hooking beneath your jawline to gently tilt your face upward.
When you finally forced yourself to look at him, there was no judgment or surprise in his dark eyes: only profound tenderness.
“Look at me,” he whispered, a small, breathless smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he wiped a stray drop of rain from your burning cheek with his thumb.
He didn't give you time to overthink or apologize again. Noah leaned down, closing the remaining distance between you. But this time, it was achingly, beautifully slow.
When his lips finally met yours, it was a gentle reassurance. It was a soft, lingering pressure, a tender molding of his lips against yours that completely erased the awkwardness of a moment before. Your lips danced together, bodies attuned to one another, swaying with the quiet movements of the ship. He tasted faintly of the cocktail he just had. Noah let out a quiet, shaky sigh into the kiss, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin as if trying to tell you it’s okay, I’ve got you. It was a patient, reverent kiss, turning the noises that the storm and the sea made into nothing background noise. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.
Still gripping his jacket as the only grounding force in that overwhelm of sensation, you thought that Bob’s words never felt truer.
Learning the art of letting go
Trusting the other person
Trusting that they won’t drop you
Maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself to believe that it was possible, even for you: that a person could truly see you and not just leave at the drop of a hat.
LOOK AT THEM. LOOK. AT. THEM. IM SO OBSESSED WITH THIS I CANT EVEN EXPLAIN IT. NOAH BEING AN ASS INTHE FIRST COUPLE CHAPTERS BUT NOW LOOK AT HIM? PATIENTLY WAITING FOR US TO TAKE HIM APART😏
i can’t stop thinking about giving sugardaddy!noah a blowjob in his stupidly expensive car while he’s driving late at night 😵💫
nsfw below the cut
maybe the two of you are coming home from a fancy event, he’s dressed in his usual black shirt, the sleeves pushed up his arms a little showing his tattoos and the twelve thousand dollar watch on his wrist, he’s gripping the wheel with one hand, the moonlight catching on the rings on his fingers. his other hand is wrapped in your hair, occasionally tugging to slow your pace and to remind you just who is really in charge while his hips twitch beneath you, pushing his cock further into your throat for a split second before he forces himself to relax again when he hears you gag around him.
“easy, baby,” he’d warn, his voice stupidly sexy and low and rough, giving your hair another firm tug when you tried to bob faster. “you’re getting greedy. slow those pretty lips down.”
you’d then moan around his cock at the sudden sharp pull, and the vibration would make his hips twitch again. he’d then groan a quiet curse, his fingers tightening in your hair again as he tries his best to keep the car steady.
“fuck… you’re gonna make me crash if you keep sucking me like that.” he’d say, but the way he was slowly guiding your head up and down shows he has absolutely no intention of making you stop though 🤭
