hedonist/mechanic!noah looves curvy and plus size girls.
he can’t comprehend how some guys make fun of, talk shit about, or are ashamed to be seen with them. he doesn’t just go after them specifically, and it’s not a fetish, he just thinks it’s crazy how some of the most pretty, beautiful women he has ever seen are always looking shy, or insecure. so whenever he sees a pretty curvy lady at the bar, he never hesitates to go over and flirt. it hurts him at first when they think he’s doing it as a joke, he hates to think that that’s how she’s been treated in the past, but the truth is since the moment he walked in, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her. not just because of her body, in his eyes it makes no difference, it’s the way she smiles and laughs with her friends, the way she was dancing, the way she was having a good time until a couple guys came along and hit on her friends, leaving her all alone at the bar. he doesn’t talk to her out of pity, or because he feels he has to, but now she’s alone he’s got his chance, and he hates the look on her face as she watches her other friends dancing with the guys that had just whisked them away. he wonders if anyone’s ever told her how pretty she looks tonight, besides her friends, or if guys just see a bigger body and think with their pea sized brains that talking to her is embarrassing.
mechanic!noah doesn’t, and has never, given a fuck. he is a lover of everyone and everything, no matter the shape, size or height.
Series summary: Noah didn’t expect that his one night stand from 2020 would keep a secret from him for years. But now, in 2024, as Bad Omens is back in Oregon, he wasn’t expecting to run into you while trying to buy some energy drink so he could endure the tour.
You looked even prettier, yes, but what caught his attention wasn’t your beauty, or the fact that you looked like you’d just seen a ghost just by looking at him.
It was, in fact, the little girl holding your hand, telling you she liked his hoodie. He really wasn’t prepared for was seeing himself reflected in that little girl who loved bees and cookies, not expecting to change his entire life for good.
author's note: I love them :ccc
masterlist
The waiting room at urgent care smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee; that particular brand of clinical despair that seemed to seep into your bones the longer you sat there. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh and unforgiving, casting everything in a sickly pallor that made Kara’s flushed cheeks look even redder, almost fever-bright in their wrongness.
She was curled in your lap like a little fevered koala, her body radiating heat through both your shirts, her head a heavy weight against your chest. Bee was clutched tight in one small fist, the bee’s worn ear pressed to her lips like a pacifier, and Bun-Bun was squished between your bodies, damp with her sweat. Every few minutes another wet cough rattled through her small frame, leaving her whimpering softly into your hoodie that smelled like Noah.
You rocked her gently, murmuring nonsense against her damp curls, the kind of soothing lies parents tell when there's nothing left to do but wait. "Almost our turn, baby. Just a little longer. The doctor's going to make you feel so much better, you'll see."
Your phone sat dark in your pocket like a stone. No new messages since that last frantic text from Noah and the silence gnawed at you, feeding the spiral you’d been trying to outrun since the call dropped somewhere over the Atlantic.
What if this is it? What if the distance finally breaks us? What if she gets worse and he's still halfway across the world and I have to do this alone once again?
You'd already imagined every worst-case scenario: the hospital admission, the isolation, the slow drift of a man who loved you but couldn't bridge three thousand miles and a time zone difference that made phone calls feel like scheduled appointments rather than lifelines.
The past three weeks had been brutal in ways you hadn't anticipated. Not the big dramatic fights. Those would have been easier, somehow. It was the small erosions: the missed bedtimes, the video calls that dropped mid-story, the way Kara had stopped asking "When's Daddy coming home?" and started just... staring at his picture on the fridge with a quiet resignation that broke your heart. You'd watched her shrink into herself a little more each day, watched her appetite fade and her energy flag, and you'd told yourself it was just a cold.
Just a virus.
Just the natural ebb and flow of childhood illness.
But then the cough had started. First a tickle, then a bark, then a deep chest-rattling thing that made her eyes water. And suddenly you were alone at 2 AM, holding a feverish toddler, scrolling through WebMD like a prayer book while your boyfriend slept somewhere in a tour bus in Europe, unaware that his whole world was crumbling in a cramped apartment in Portland.
"Mommy," Kara rasped now, her voice scratchy and small, barely above a whisper. "Is Daddy coming?"
Your heart twisted so sharply you thought you might actually feel it break. "He's working, sweetheart, but he loves you so much. He's on a different country now, byt he's calling as fast as he can to check on you."
She nodded against you, too tired to argue, too worn out to cry anymore, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. You pressed a kiss to her hot forehead, too hot, the kind of heat that made your stomach drop; and checked the time again. Forty-three minutes since you'd checked in. The cough had worsened in the car, deep and barking, and her fever had climbed to 101.2 despite the children's Tylenol you'd administered like clockwork. The pediatrician's advice echoed uselessly in your head: monitor, hydrate, urgent care if it gets worse.
It had gotten worse.
Everything had gotten worse.
You thought about the last time you'd seen Noah in person; weeks ago, standing in the airport, Kara wrapped around his leg like a barnacle while he kissed you goodbye. "It's only a few weeks," he'd promised. "I'll be back before you know it." But time had stretched and warped into something unrecognizable, and somewhere between the missed calls and the postponed FaceTime dates and the fever that wouldn't break, you'd started to wonder if promises were just pretty words people used to make leaving feel less like abandonment.
When they finally called Kara's name, you carried her back on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else; rubbery and disconnected, like you were watching yourself from above. The nurse was kind, efficient, taking vitals while Kara hid her face in your neck, her little fingers digging into your collarbone. Ear infection. Possible early pneumonia. Antibiotics, fluids, breathing treatment. Nothing life-threatening, the doctor assured you, but serious enough to scare you down to your bones, serious enough to make you feel like the worst mother in the world for not bringing her in sooner, for not knowing, for letting it get this bad while you were too busy spiraling about a boy who was three thousand miles away.
You held her through the nebulizer mask, her little hands fisting your shirt as the medicine hissed and bubbled. She cried quietly for Daddy the whole time "I want Daddy, I want Daddy, please, Mommy, please" and you cried with her, silent tears slipping down your cheeks while the machine filled the tiny room with its mechanical rhythm. You whispered apologies she couldn't hear, promises you weren't sure you could keep, and tried not to think about how alone you felt in a room full of people.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket just as the nurse stepped out to process the prescription.
Noah [2:06 AM]: Landing in Portland in 9 hours. Tell me where you are. I'm coming straight there.
You stared at the screen, breath catching so sharply it hurt. For one terrible, hopeful moment, you didn’t know whether to laugh or sob.
Your vision blurred with fresh tears as your thumb hovered over the message, heart pounding so hard you felt it in your throat.
He was really doing it. Leaving the tour mid-run. Flying across the world because his daughter was sick and you were falling apart. The relief hit like a wave, crashing over the fear and exhaustion, leaving you dizzy and trembling. A choked sound, half laugh, half sob, escaped your lips as you clutched the phone tighter, pressing it to your chest like a lifeline. He was coming. For her. For you. After everything.
NOAH
The flight was endless.
That was the only word for it, endless, stretched thin across the Atlantic like a rubber band about to snap. Noah spent most of it pacing the cabin when the seatbelt sign was off, ignoring the concerned looks from the flight attendant and the way other passengers whispered behind their hands. He'd barely slept. Couldn't sleep, not with Kara's voice echoing in his head, that tiny "Daddy?" that had cracked through the phone speaker like a gunshot. He kept replaying every second of that last call: your exhausted voice, Kara's scared little one, the way everything had cracked open between you in a span of thirty seconds before the connection died.
He'd written and rewritten texts a dozen times, then deleted them. “I'm sorry. I should have been there. I'm coming. I love you. Please don't hate me.” Words weren't enough. Not anymore. They'd never been enough, really, just bandages on wounds that kept reopening every time he remembered they walking out the door without him.
The tour had been a disaster from the start. Not the shows, those were fine, great even, the crowds electric and the band tighter than ever. But something had shifted inside him after the last break, some fundamental piece of his heart that had decided to stay behind in Portland. He'd caught himself staring at his phone during soundchecks, waiting for photos of Kara, counting down the hours until he could call. Nick had noticed. Jolly had noticed. Even the venue guy had made a joke about him being "domesticated," and Noah had almost thrown a punch before catching himself.
He knew that behind him the guys, his second family, were dealing with hell because of the decision they’ve made.
There had been arguments. Threats. A lot of yelling from the label, from the promoter, from people who saw dollar signs where Noah saw his daughter's fever-flushed face. And if he'd learned anything in the past months, it was that no stage, no crowd, no standing ovation could fill the hole that opened up inside him every time he walked away from the two of you.
So now he was here, hurtling through the sky at six hundred miles an hour, still too slow, still not there, his knee bouncing uncontrollably as he stared at the flight map and watched the little plane icon crawl across the ocean. He'd texted you updates every hour, even when you didn't respond, even when the silence made him want to throw his phone against the wall.
Still in the air. Still coming. Hold on.
When the wheels finally touched down in Portland, the relief that crashed through him was almost violent; a physical force that left him gripping the armrests, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grabbed his carry-on (Nick had packed it with ruthless efficiency) and was moving before the plane fully stopped, murmuring apologies as he squeezed past other passengers, ignoring the annoyed huffs and startled glances.
Nick had arranged a car while he was flying.
Of course Nick had, the man was worth his weight in gold, handling logistics while Noah fell apart. Noah slid into the backseat, already pulling up the address you'd texted him for the urgent care clinic, his hands shaking as he typed it into the GPS. His knee bounced the entire drive. Rain streaked the windows, blurring the familiar Oregon landscape into gray streaks. He didn't care about any of it. He just needed to get to you.
The clinic's waiting room was half-empty when he burst through the doors, hood up, rain dripping from his jacket, heart hammering like he'd just run a marathon. A nurse looked up, eyes widening in recognition; he saw it happen in slow motion, the way her brain connected the rain-soaked stranger with the face on a million phone screens, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He followed the sound of a familiar cough down the hallway, following the instructions you had sent, past closed doors and startled staff, until he found the right room.
And then he stopped.
You were sitting on the edge of the exam table, Kara in your lap, her face buried in your chest. The nebulizer mask had been set aside, but her breathing still sounded rough, wheezy, labored, the kind of sound that made his stomach clench with terror. He imagined how much he had lost; from her first bad illness, the one he'd missed because he'd been on tour, the one you'd handled alone while he played venues thousands of miles away, having no idea of how much you needed him.
You looked exhausted, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, hair messy and escaping from its ponytail, shoulders slumped under the weight of everything you'd been carrying for the past three weeks. For the past years, really. For the past forever.
For a second, he just stood there in the doorway, drinking in the sight of both of you.
His girls.
His whole world.
The two people who had somehow, impossibly, become more important than music, more important than fame, more important than every dream he'd ever chased.
Then Kara lifted her head, like she could sense him, like some invisible thread connected her heart to his across any distance.
"Daddy?"
The word cracked something wide open inside his chest; something he'd been holding together with duct tape and phone calls and desperate promises. Something that had been fracturing since the moment he'd walked out the door three weeks ago.
He crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees in front of you both, arms wrapping around Kara as she lunged for him with a broken sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her little body. "I'm here, bug. Daddy's here. I'm not leaving again. I'm never leaving again."
She clung to him like a lifeline, small body shaking with coughs and relief and three weeks of missing him, her fingers twisted in his hoodie so tightly her knuckles went white. He held her close, rocking her, pressing kisses to her fever-hot forehead, her damp curls, her temple, her cheeks, anywhere he could reach, anywhere he could leave a kiss like a promise. Tears burned his own eyes, hot and humiliating, but he didn't care. Let them see. Let everyone see. This was his daughter, and he'd almost missed another fever, another middle-of-the-night terror, another moment she needed him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair, voice breaking on the words. "I'm so sorry it took me this long. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry, bug. Daddy's so sorry."
You were crying too, silent and exhausted, one hand resting on his shoulder like you needed to feel he was real, like you were afraid he'd dissolve into pixels and bad reception if you let go. He reached up with his free arm and pulled you into the embrace, the three of you tangled together on the edge of that narrow exam table in a too-bright urgent care room that suddenly felt like the center of the universe.
"I flew home," he said roughly, voice thick with tears and relief and something that felt like coming up for air after drowning. "The rest of the tour… they're rescheduling. I don't care how long it takes or how much it costs. I'm done until we're all together again. No more oceans. No more screens. No more missing birthdays and fevers and bedtime stories. Just us."
You let out a shaky breath that sounded like it had been trapped inside you for weeks, months, maybe, since the first time he'd walked out the door with a suitcase and a wave goodbye. "Noah…"
"I mean it." He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes fierce and certain, red-rimmed but steady. "I choose you. Both of you. Every single time. The band understands. The label will deal. They can scream at me all they want, I don't care. You two are my priority. Forever. That's not just words, okay? That's not just something I say to make you feel better. That's the truth. You're my family and I'm done being away from my family."
Kara's cough interrupted, but it was weaker now, looser; the breathing treatment was working, finally. She nestled deeper into his chest, one hand fisting his hoodie, the other still holding Bee like a tiny shield against the world. "Ceiling pancakes?" she mumbled hopefully, her voice still scratchy but lighter somehow, like his presence alone had eased something in her little lungs.
He laughed, watery and relieved and so full of love it felt like it might burst out of his chest. "As many as you want, bug. Every morning. With extra chocolate chips and smiley faces and whatever else you want. Whipped cream. Sprinkles. The works."
She nodded against him, already half-asleep, and he held her tighter, pressing another kiss to her temple.
The doctor came back a few minutes later, blinking at the unexpected rockstar now holding the patient, but recovered quickly. People always did around Noah, there was something about him that made the world adjust, made reality bend slightly to accommodate his presence. Instructions were given, antibiotics every twelve hours, plenty of fluids, a follow-up in five days if the cough didn't improve. Noah listened like his life depended on it, asking questions, taking notes on his phone, nodding seriously at the discussion of pneumonia risks and breathing treatments.
When they were finally cleared to leave, he carried Kara out to the car, one arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on top of your head. The rain had softened to a drizzle, and the parking lot smelled like wet asphalt and something green, spring, maybe, or the promise of it.
The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but the good kind.
Kara dozed against his chest in the backseat, her breathing steadier already, her little face slack with exhaustion and relief. You kept glancing at him through the rear view mirror like you still couldn't believe he was real, like you expected him to disappear the moment you looked away. He caught your eye and smiled, reassuring.
Inside the apartment, he helped you get her settled in bed. Fresh pajamas, extra blankets, her favorite stuffies arranged like a protective circle around her small body. She fell asleep almost instantly, her hand still loosely holding his finger, her breathing finally quiet and even.
You both stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her breathe. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of her nightlight. She looked so small in that big bed, so fragile, and Noah felt his heart crack all over again.
"I was scared," you admitted softly, the words barely above a whisper. "That this would be too much. That the distance would break us before we even got started. That you'd realize… I don't know, that we weren't worth the trouble."
He turned to you, pulling you into his arms so fast you stumbled against his chest. "Don't," he said, his voice rough. "Don't ever think that. You're worth. Every flight. Every canceled show. Every argument with every label executive in the world. You're worth everything, babe."
You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in, rain and airport coffee and something underneath that was just him, the smell you'd been missing in your bed for three weeks. "I love you," you said, the words muffled against his shirt.
"I love you more," he whispered, pressing his lips to your hair. "Both of you. Forever. That's not just a word to me anymore. It's a promise."
Later, after the antibiotics were administered and Kara was sleeping soundly, you curled together on the couch. His hand stroked slow circles on your back while rain pattered against the windows, soft and steady, like the world was finally settling into something manageable. The TV played some forgotten movie on low volume, but neither of you were watching.
"Tomorrow," he said quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest where your ear was pressed. "We start packing. No rush. Take your time. But when she's better… we go home. To the house with the pool. To the room we talked about painting for her. To our life. The real one, not the one we've been living in phone calls and airport goodbyes."
You nodded against him, the fear that had gripped you for weeks finally loosening its hold, slipping away like the rain outside. "Our life," you repeated, tasting the words, letting them settle somewhere deep in your chest.
He kissed the top of your head, then your temple, then tilted your chin up so he could reach your lips, slow, deep, full of every promise he'd been carrying across an ocean, every word he hadn't known how to say until now. "Our life," he agreed against your mouth. "Together. Where we belong."
Outside, the Oregon rain kept falling, soft and endless, washing the world clean. Inside, for the first time in years, everything felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Kara would wake up to ceiling pancakes in the morning.
one last quick thought before i go to bed because i’m thinking about this more than i should
this is who are you noah on tour!! remember how reader was picking up some forgotten hobbies, or skills she’d given up learning? remember how gel nails were one of them?
a few nights before leaving, you and noah sat in the living room picking out which colour to use, since he liked when you did his nails before and they lasted a lot longer than you expected them to, given how much he uses his hands and the activities he does. but he asked you if you could paint them for him again before he played some shows and festivals…
the different nails were his idea, and he seemed a little shy after bringing it up, worried you’d tease him for it but how could you? that’s just the sweetest thing he’s ever suggested. so the two he had painted on his left hand were the two you had left out on yours, and the two you had painted on right hand were the two he had left out. now every time you looked at your hands, or he looked at his, it was a reminder of each other :(
since the first chapter of hedonist was posted i’ve had countless requests for car sex with mechanic!noah and i was thinking last night about how much i miss their dynamic in the beginning of the story so i’ve just decided to write this, which takes place around the time reader asks noah to stop sleeping with other girls 🤭 it’s not proof read and since it came to me like a vision and i just need to write it and get it out there!!
warnings: NSFW and it’s kinda short :/
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“You getting in?” Noah asked, rolling down his window as he pulled up beside you.
“No.” You answered, not even looking up.
“Cool.” He said as he lifted the handbrake with a grunt, parking the car before getting out. He then walked around and opened the passenger door for you. “Get in.” He said, looking down at where you were sitting on the curb.
You glared at him, but he stared back just as stubbornly, and after the longest five seconds of your life passed you let out a huff and finally got up. You got in his car and slammed the door shut hard enough to earn a look from Noah as he got back in.
“You wanna tell me why I had to leave my place at 1:30 in the morning to come pick you up? Why I got a call saying you’ve been kicked out of a party?”
“Some girl was talking shit.” You huffed, looking out the window.
“About you?” He asked, sounding almost amused as he watched the road in front of him.
“About you.”
That made him glance over, now intrigued. He had been told you got into a fight with a girl, but he hadn’t been told what it was about.
“I overheard her talking about you. She was saying if she didn’t find anyone at the party to take home, she’d call you. Because apparently you’re the community dick, and every girl at the party has had a turn on you. Called you the town bicycle.”
Noah couldn’t hold back his laugh, one hand on the wheel, the other now resting on your thigh.
“Community dick, huh?” He smirked, “That’s a new one. I like it.”
You shot him a glare.
“You think it’s funny?”
“Oh, babe, I think it’s hilarious,” he said, still smirking, “Especially since you got in a fight over it. Sounds like you got jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous.” You snapped, “I was just pissed off. She was talking like you’re some kind of free use whore for the whole city. It wouldn’t have annoyed me so much if she wasn’t making fun of you for it.”
Noah’s smirk only grew wider as he gave your thigh a squeeze, before sliding his hand up a little higher under your dress.
“Mm, it’s whatever,” he said, “I just think it’s so cute you were out there defending my honour.”
You smacked his hand away, but he just put it right back.
“You’re such an asshole.” You hissed.
“Yeah?” He glanced sideways at you, “But I’m your asshole now, aren’t I?”
You rolled your eyes, but as Noah’s hand slid a little higher you couldn’t help but press your thighs together out of instinct.
“Aw, don’t get shy now, baby,” he teased, his voice dripping with arrogance, “You went and got in a fight with a girl because she thought she could have me whenever she wanted… when we both know this dick only belongs to one girl these days...”
His fingers brushed over your panties, teasing you through the thin fabric, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You tried not to react, you tried to stay still, but you couldn’t help but rock your hips slightly into his touch.
“Noah… we can’t, stop.” You breathed, your voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear you.
Noah smirked, his eyes still on the road.
“Make me.”
You hated how quickly your body gave in, and your legs parted a little for him. His fingers then slid under the edge of your panties, finding you soaked already.
He let out a cocky chuckle.
“Shit, all that fighting over my dick got you this wet?”
“Shut the fuck up.” You hissed, but your voice broke into a small whimper as he easily slid one finger inside you without warning. Noah groaned softly, curling his finger as he drove.
“Always so fucking tight, baby… so wet for someone who claims to hate me.”
A second finger joined his first, stretching you open while his thumb rubbed your clit. You reached over, palming his cock over his sweatpants. He was half hard already, and you gave him a squeeze before stroking him through the fabric, trying to regain some control.
Noah’s breath suddenly hitched, but he kept driving, and kept pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy.
“Careful baby, I’m driving,” he warned, though his voice was still smug. “You really wanna make me crash just because you’re horny?”
You kept stroking him anyway, and the car was now filled with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you and your shaky breathing as you tried not to show just what he was doing to you.
“Fuck-” You moaned quietly, your hips rolling against his hand as you gave his cock another squeeze.
Noah glanced around, there were no cars or people anywhere, so he pulled onto the side of the road and slammed the brakes on.
“Backseat. Now.”
You didn’t argue.
You both got out and climbed into the back, and the second the doors shut, Noah grabbed you roughly, pulling you onto his lap. He pushed your dress up to your waist and tugged your panties to the side roughly.
“C’mon, baby,” he said as he pushed his own pants down, his dick springing out hard and flushed, “Ride it. Show me why you own this dick.”
You glared at him even as you reached between you, wrapping your fingers around his thick cock and slowly sank down on him in one go, taking every inch until your ass met his thighs.
A soft moan left your lips as you felt him twitch inside you, and Noah groaned, his hands gripping your ass hard. You started moving, fucking yourself on him in agressive bounces- and Noah smirked up at you, clearly loving it.
“Uh huh… just like that. Show me how much you hate the idea of anyone else getting this cock.” He said with a hard slap on your ass.
You let out a surprised noise at that, and changed your pace, grinding slow and hard, your lips finding his neck as you his hands reached for the zip on the back of your dress, slowly tugging it down.
You pulled away slightly when you felt his calloused fingertips slide the straps slowly down your shoulders and pulling the dress down, leaving your tits exposed. He let out a groan, immediately reaching for your breasts before leaning in and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, biting down lightly, just enough to make you whimper and grab at his hair.
“Fuck… keep grinding on me just like that,” he said around your tit, his voice muffled and his eyes fluttered shut, “No other girls getting this dick, baby. Not tonight… not ever. It’s all yours…”
i think one of my favourite tropes will always be character a peacefully at home, sleeping or getting ready for bed, and character b showing up at their door injured and bleeding because that was the only place they knew would be safe
Warnings: none, only very self indulgent and touch deprived author, and it's not proofread, upsie
firefighter!noah masterlist or can be read as a standalone
words: 773
dividers by @silent-stories
Your eyes opened just when Noah opened the door, the clock showing 7:28 in the morning.
Either the next shift came in early or Noah speed drove home to you.
Oblivious tobedroom the fact that you’re awake, Noah moved slowly around the room to not wake you up.
First he connected his phone to the white charger that had been laying there since the moment he left 24 hours ago, then he carefully moved the blinds to hide the morning sun that somehow managed to slip inside and then, finally, he walked towards the bed. Towards you.
You looked at his face when he lifted his blanket, carefully not to make any sudden moves that could wake you, and saw the dark circles under his eyes. So tired, his head still at the station, he didn’t even notice you looking up at him.
“Hey baby.” you whispered into the dark.
“Did I wake you up?” he finally looked at you, his brows furrowed as he still hovered over the bed, blanket in his hand.
“No.” which was true. You were up before he arrived home, rolling around and waiting for his arrival. “You tired?” you mumbled against the pillow.
“Yeah.” he said with a long sigh before he finally sat down on the mattress.
“Come here.” you lifted your blanket and patted the empty space next to you.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Noah abandoned his blanket and scooted under yours, his arms immediately wrapping around you.
A satisfied hum left his lips while he moved around to find the most comfortable position. You waited until he stopped and then tucked the blanket under his side, turning you both in a blanket burrito.
His leg found a way between your thighs as he nuzzled his nose into your neck.
“Missed you.” he mumbled against your skin.
“I missed you more.” you confessed and then kissed his forehead.
You love mornings like this. Just as much you hate him leaving, knowing what his job is, you love him returning home, to you, and those slow mornings full of cuddles and small touches.
“Mhmm no.” he shook his head, tickling you with his hair and then planted a kiss to your collar bone.
You only chuckled at that, knowing there’s no point in fighting with him, because he’s seconds away from falling asleep.
You felt him relax in your arms, something that still made your heart beat faster. He feels safe with you.
Noah’s warm breath tickled your sensitive skin, but you didn’t dare to move as you noticed the way his chest slowed down with the movements and his grip on you eased up a bit.
“I got you.” with that you started tracing your fingers over his back.
Random shapes with an occasional heart that he can’t notice, you continued to drag your nails up and down his back. Your other hand was holding his head in place, as if he might pull away.
You felt his hand pull your tshirt up, just under your boobs, and then he pulled you even closer. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the skin to skin contact. You will never get used to that, the way his soft skin fits just perfectly against yours, how he melts into you instantly, how the fabric covers only a few inches of your skin.
You didn’t even notice it, but you stopped moving your hand, but Noah sure did as he made an unapproving sound and mumbled “More please.” which earned him another forehead kiss.
“Sorry.” you chuckled and continued the movement.
You heard his breathing slow down and his body went heavier in your head.
Your hand moved to his face, trying to move away the crease on his forehead with delicate touches.
“Tough shift?” you asked, not sure if you’d get a reply.
“Yeah.” that was the only thing you needed to know. Not that you wouldn’t cuddle him to sleep anyway, but sometimes it was needed a little bit.
“I love you.” you whispered.
“I love you, pretty girl.” that was the last night he said before he fell asleep.
You continued tracing your fingers over his face, careful not to wake him up.
His chin was covered with a few days of stubble, but still he looked so boyish. You used your fingers to move the hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear and then you started scratching his head.
His breath got even, his body fully relaxed and like that, with the love of your life in your arms, you fell back to sleep again.
This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
For the first time in 2 years, you come face-to-face with your ex at his best friend’s wedding.
Ex-Boyfriend!Noah x F!reader
Content warning: none
Word count: 4.1k
A/N: This was supposed to be a long ass oneshot, but I decided to post the first half now to help me regain my writing momentum. More importantly, I also wanted to post this before Nick gets married irl since I started drafting this when he announced his engagement bc all I could think about was best man Noah in suit and tie 🥺 So yeah, this one’s open-ended; I’ll post another part sooner or later. Lastly, I’d say the title was inspired by Saosin’s Seven Years, but i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m not sure :> lol
“Imagine if you caught the bouquet,” Natalie snickered, throwing you a shit-eating grin through the mirror as she reapplied her mascara while you washed your hands in the sink. “Noah would lose his shit.”
Rolling your eyes at your best friend’s remark, you tried to keep your focus on the soap you’re lathering, on the bubbles your hands were producing way more than necessary, on the grey marbled sink, on literally anything to make you ignore the familiar warmth creeping up your cheeks.
For once, you hoped your blush makeup had concealed it enough for her to notice.
“How long has it been? Two years? Bro’s still hung up on you, I swear. Bryan said he couldn’t even find–”
“Cut it out, Nat,” you interjected, groaning as you finally rinsed and dried your hands with a paper towel. “Please don’t make things awkward.”
“Hey, I’m just stating facts!” She smirked, raising her hands in surrender, obviously trying (and failing miserably) to keep herself from teasing you further.
“Then I don’t wanna hear it,” you muttered while narrowing your eyes at your giggling best friend. “You guys promised me you won’t make it weird if I came.”
Natalie snorted. “Then you certainly don’t wanna know about the bet they’ve been doing since your ex went stiff like a tree when you…” she paused, smirking as she slightly faced you to look at you from head to toe. “…when you walked in looking like that earlier.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she sing-songed, dropping her mascara tube back to her vanity pouch. “I was just saying, you’re making some heads turn, babe. And a certain someone is surely not liking it.”
“Natalie–”
“Let’s go; I think they’re serving dinner soon!”
Groaning, you followed her out of the washroom and back to the hall where Nicholas’ and Nadine’s wedding reception would be held in a bit.
A few weeks ago, the thought of dressing up for one of your closest friends’ wedding never crossed your mind. It was still fresh in your memory how you sent your regrets to Nick’s invitation, despite his thoughtful personal delivery of the textured blue envelope with a gold ‘N&N’ stamp to your doorstep. As an advanced planner, you had already made your decision even before you got the chic linen paper in your hands— even before confirming that he would actually want you there after everything.
Who in their right mind would invite their best man's ex-girlfriend to their wedding, anyway?
Yeah, no one. No one but Nicholas Ruffilo.
Sure, you were all friends before things went south, but was inviting you to their momentous occasion really worth the trouble? Save for a few inevitable meetups, you successfully stayed away from almost all of them over the last two years. What difference would it make if you came now?
Despite these questions running through your head, Nicholas was insistent. Annoyingly, at that matter, like his life depended on it. Therefore, after all his persuasion tactics and with Natalie promising you so many tempting favors in exchange (you swore those two were conniving), you eventually gave in.
What’s the worst thing that could happen, anyway? It’s not like your ex would deliberately corner you and make you uncomfortable on his best friend’s wedding day, right?
Besides, it would be nice to reunite with everyone after two long years. The thought of catching up with the boys rather than just hearing unsolicited updates from Natalie— who started dating their photographer— sounded enticing, despite the setup you knew you’d be in.
So after days of contemplation, you RSVPed ‘Yes’ on the condition that none of your friends pull any moves to make you uncomfortable in the presence of your ex-boyfriend. You wrote those exact words on the response card that you sent back to the groom. To which he happily agreed and even promised to keep Folio on a leash throughout the event. Nick made a mental note to assign that task to Jolly and Davis.
And here you were, a couple of weeks later, all dolled up and clad in a navy blue maxi dress, walking beside Natalie towards the rest of the boys, who all looked dapper as Nick’s entourage. Sitting at your assigned table were your old friends Vince, Jolly, Folio, Bryan, and Davis in their color-coordinated suits and ties. You couldn’t help but tease them earlier for looking so out of character in such formal attire compared to their usual all-black alternative outfits. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve surely mistaken them for men who worked 9 to 5 in corporate.
You chuckled at the thought, and as if right on cue, Folio turned his head your way and greeted you with his signature mischievous grin. It was the same annoying grin he had been throwing at you since the ceremony began— since your ex, who also looked as uncharacteristically sharp as they all did (especially with his overgrown hair slicked back and his shirt collar hugging his inked neck), stood beside Ruffilo at the altar earlier.
“Hey, neighbor, sit next to me,” Folio called enthusiastically like a golden retriever, tapping the empty seat to his left. As much as you wanted to be with Natalie, her boyfriend Bryan had already saved her a spot between him and Jolly.
You narrowed your eyes at the drummer, your gaze moving from the seat he was offering to the other empty chair beside it, which had a black suit jacket draped over its backrest.
Seeing how the boys at your table had theirs on, you were not stupid not to piece it together and tell who was (and would soon be) occupying the other seat next to yours.
So much for not making things awkward, huh.
“Nick, just stop whatever you’re planning,” you groaned.
“Have I told you how glad I am to see you tonight?” Your younger friend ignored your remark and practically pulled you down next to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you against his side. “I was so excited when I knew you were coming! Noah was— ow! What did I do?”
Before he could even continue, you swatted his arm with your purse, making the other guys chuckle at your antics. Just like the old times.
–
If it wasn’t obvious enough, you, Folio, and the rest of the boys were once part of a tightly-knit circle bound by the same taste in music and hobbies.
That was until you had to date one of them for seven years, and unfortunately, break up with the said guy and eventually with the rest of the group.
You knew from the start it was a package deal. The guys had been friends for so long before you came, so it was just appropriate for them to be on Noah’s side when you separated.
Noah.
Noah Sebastian Davis.
Lead singer of a now-popular metalcore band you once witnessed struggle and grow.
Tall, charming, heavily tattooed, with a perfect nose and cute smile, now with thousands of girls throwing themselves at his feet.
The guy who could sing you a lullaby to sleep one moment and growl like a man possessed in the next.
The guy who used to hold your heart around those long tattooed fingers.
The guy you once thought of as your endgame.
Well, everyone else did. Even your grumpy work supervisor back then, who always complained about that one tattooed ‘Asian white boy’ ‘loitering’ in the shop all day, silently rooted for the two of you.
You and Noah met in your late teens, back when Bad Omens was still barely getting out of Folio’s garage, a few years before they released their first LP. You used to work part-time at a coffee shop across the tattoo parlor where Ruffilo apprenticed, so you earned yourself a couple of new regulars after their group made it a habit to rendezvous at the shop to discuss band stuff or just to hang out. You clicking with the long-haired guys covered in tattoos and piercings was a no-brainer. Growing up with an older brother who used to lead a mediocre metal garage band made it easy for you to connect with their music taste and other interests. It was also an advantage that you lived on the same street as Folio, so you’d easily get invited to their band practices and dive bar gigs.
It was all fun and platonic until two years later, the tallest among them had to ruin it and start showing interest in dating you.
Noah tried to be subtle at first. He would send you random text messages that you were sure he sent to everyone else, which he later admitted were only sent to you. He would tend to come alone to the coffee shop during your shift, casually chatting you up while pretending to be waiting for Nicholas (even during those times when you knew Nick went home to Virginia; you just played along). He would randomly appear at your favorite salad stop during your break, making awkward excuses like he was in the area or Nick or Vince sent him on a salad run (even though it’s a known fact in the group that the aforementioned guys had an aversion to vegetables). Every night out or gig, Noah always made sure he had an excuse to be the one to drive you home, countless times not even allowing your neighbor Folio to come with. And in every hangout, he always had your favorite snacks on hand, while not even bothering to get anything for his other friends.
With those, among so many things, it didn’t take the rest of the guys too long to decipher his feelings towards you.
And once they did, it was pure chaos that the then 21-year-old frontman had to prematurely confess to you after their set at Chain Reaction (RIP) one spring night.
It was peer pressure at its finest, you couldn’t help but gush at how Noah rambled nervously like a schoolboy talking to his crush for the first time. Funny and endearing– certainly not what your lanky long-haired friend was aiming for.
To his (and the rest of your friends’) delight, his feelings were happily reciprocated. It would be hard not to when you had been on the receiving end of Noah’s kindheartedness, his silly antics, his thoughtful acts of service, and his overall protectiveness. Not to mention his terrible flirting skills that always left you cringing and blushing at the same time. And to top it off, the guy was eye candy despite Natalie describing him as ‘too thin and tall like a praying mantis’.
How your best friend had to shut up when Noah finally got buffed a few years later was forever etched in your memory.
So, the 20-year-old you took the risk and went on a series of dates with Noah Davis. Your friendship was at stake; you knew that. But in your defense, you never thought your relationship would go seriously far; you were sure it would be over by the next weekend. And in no time, you’d be back to just being friends again, casually hanging out with the other guys at the coffee shop or Folio’s garage.
But you and Noah morphed organically. The two of you became inseparable and hopelessly in love that after a few months of dating, you did not hesitate to make it official. And just before marking your first anniversary as a couple, you moved with him and the rest of the guys to LA, with you and Noah sharing a small one-bedroom apartment.
In your second year, Bad Omens released their second album. It was in the same year that they started to get more attention and obtain an even wider audience reach. They started touring with bigger bands across the US and overseas, and in no time, their traction grew exponentially.
Young and in love, the two of you tried to live your life together and separately at the same time. As more shows and touring opportunities opened up for the band, you were also starting to build a career you were happy with. While Noah would miss your company whenever he’s on the road, not once did he ever think of asking you to drop everything to be with him 24/7. Sure, you lived on the same roof, acting like a married couple. But you also had your life, and he had his own.
You were pretty much happy with your arrangement. Both of you allowed each other to chase your own dreams without affecting your relationship. At the very least, you made sure you had time for each other despite everything. Month-long tours were almost nonstop, so you’d set aside a week or two to be with your boyfriend on the road. Noah, on the other hand, always got himself a non-negotiable minimum of 1 month break to come home to you before hopping into another long grind.
That became your routine for a couple of years– your normal. Your time apart surely tested your relationship, but like soulmates in a Hallmark movie, things always worked out for the two of you.
Until it didn’t.
After the pandemic, Bad Omens started headlining shows and selling out venues left and right. Noah, in particular, had become so sought after that he slowly started to become… absent.
At first, the unanswered texts, missed calls, and coming home late were understandable. He was just overwhelmed with the hustle from his newfound fame, you thought. You were lenient and considerate enough to give him time to adjust. This was his dream after all. You knew he would do the same for you.
But then it happened again and again that the alarms in your head just started blaring from every corner. Despite the countless apologies and promises to do better, the situation worsened to the point that he would miss important occasions. Noah had let his rockstar life consume him that his supposedly “non-negotiable” month-long breaks with you were cut short to two weeks, and during those weeks, he would still be cooped up in the other guys’ house producing their next hits, planning tours, brainstorming merch designs, and whatnot.
Save for the occasional dinner dates and sex, it was as if you never even existed.
Doubts had long been plaguing your head, but still, you tried to understand. That’s your Noah; he’d come around eventually– you tried to make yourself believe that.
But then came the night when you finally had enough.
It was your birthday, and the day started nicely with Noah making you your favorite breakfast after making love with you at 7 in the morning. You blushed profusely like a teenager when he’d drawn you a bath and surprised you right after with a big bouquet of roses on the bed and a gift box containing a new dress and a diamond necklace with a note saying, ‘Can’t wait to see you in this for our date tonight. Happy birthday, my love.’
For the rest of the day, it was just impossible to wipe that giddy smile off your face.
Everything finally felt right. It was as if the sweet, lanky, non-famous Noah Davis from Richmond, Virginia, with the wolf-cut hair, had finally returned home to you.
For the first time in a long time, your heart was happy.
But as hours passed and it was finally time for your scheduled dinner date, your chest gradually felt heavy, and you started wishing Noah were sincere enough to at least let you keep that happiness until your day ended… to let you pretend things between you were fine, even just on your special day.
Because clad in your new elegant black dress, you were buzzing with excitement when you entered the restaurant he had booked for your intimate dinner.
Because you were very much looking forward to having your boyfriend again, all to yourself, after he had spent the whole afternoon at the studio. On your own birthday.
Because you didn’t expect your nerves to creep in when 30 minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Noah Sebastian— no ounce of decency to send you a text or call to tell you he was running late.
Because the 30 minutes of waiting dragged on to an hour that the servers started looking at you sympathetically; you couldn’t gauge if the public humiliation was worse than the heavy feeling weighing down your chest.
Because as you finished your wine and placed a $100 bill on the table when you decided to leave, your worry surprisingly did not turn into anger, but disappointment— disappointment in Noah for tonight and all the other empty promises he made, and disappointment in yourself, most especially, for still believing things between you could still get better.
Because for the first time since he started drifting away, you cried yourself to sleep, not because of him, but because of you and how much you were to blame for letting the situation get this far.
So after seven long years, you finally made the hard decision to let him go. It was high time to set Noah free into a life with no burdens, with no you to worry about and hold him back.
You didn’t cry when you talked to him the next morning, not even when he didn’t say anything other than a quiet ‘I’m sorry.’
You didn’t cry when you started packing up almost a decade of your life from every corner of your shared house, with him not even attempting to stop you.
You didn’t cry when you hung your house keys on your designated hook beside his for the last time.
You didn’t cry when you started driving away from the familiar neighborhood… and from the man that you could no longer call home.
Tears only blurred your vision and started trickling down your cheeks when you drove by a random taco truck.
Because memories of you and Noah grabbing your first dinner in LA came flooding back: two ambitious young adults freshly out of Virginia exploring the downtown plaza hand in hand, with nary a care in the world— no thoughts about tours, fans, or the pressure from record labels just yet; you being dragged by your tall ass boyfriend in front of the Mexican food truck because it’s the only thing he could afford that time, and your only concern was you couldn’t choose between the soft and hard shell tacos; you stealing a bite off his soft tacos as he bit off your hard ones; him placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek with his breath disgustingly smelling like cilantro.
‘I love you so much, I’d get you one of these taco trucks when I’m rich.’
‘Wow, are you gonna make me sell tacos while your band gets to see the world?’
‘Nah, you’re coming with me when our music finally gets us to places we’ve never been… And when we’ve made it big, I’ll buy us a house with many rooms and a backyard for our kids to play around.’
‘And who said I want snotty little babies with you?’
‘I know you do, because you love me.’
Fat tears streamed down your face at the memory as you pressed on the gas pedal.
You had so many questions you wanted to ask him, but what difference would they have made?
You knew it was a losing fight from the beginning, but you still took the risk. It was impossible to compete when you’re up against none other than his biggest dream.
You just wished he cared enough to realize that he never had to choose between you and his career in the first place.
–
Heaving out a sigh, you settled in your seat beside Folio and just hoped for the best.
Thankfully, your ex decided to stay and catch up with Nicholas’ family throughout the dinner service, so you were able to talk freely with the guys. Your heart warmed with their stories of how much they had accomplished over the past two years. You had read the news and seen the trending videos online, but you still couldn’t stop your eyes from welling up when you finally heard from them how they sold out arenas across the country and overseas.
Noah finally got what he had long deserved after all.
A part of you wished you could tell him how proud you were of him.
A part of you wondered if things would be different if you didn’t let him go.
Folio wolf-whistling on your side snapped you out of your thoughts.
Brows furrowed, you glanced at him and mouthed ‘what?’
He just smirked in response as his focus moved towards the stage area, where a very familiar, tall, tattooed guy in a crisp grey dress shirt now stood awkwardly in front of a microphone stand, smiling sheepishly as if he didn’t pick up one for a living. His long sleeves were now rolled up to his elbows, perfectly showing his fully decorated forearms.
After all this time, Noah was still hunched like a shrimp, looking like he wanted to look smaller, as though he wanted to hide or run away from everyone’s line of sight.
His eyes briefly met yours before he cleared his throat, making you snort internally. Two years ago, you would’ve annoyingly sung ‘Dear Maria, Count Me In’ to him after hearing that.
But sadly, all you could do now was swallow nervously as you averted your gaze and decided to glare at your seatmate instead, who was throwing you a toothy grin that screamed nothing but mischief.
“Oh, shut up, Nick,” you muttered before taking a small sip of your cold water.
“I haven’t said anything.” The drummer giggled quietly beside you.
It did not take long for Noah to start talking, and you swore you tried your best to drown his voice out with your own thoughts. Instead of listening to how he spoke about his and Ruffilo’s childhood, you tried thinking about your cats at home and if the automatic feeder had dispensed their dinner. Instead of paying attention to how Noah knew Nadine was the one for Nick, you tried to daydream about your upcoming trip to Bali– about the nice villa you booked, the pristine beaches, the warm weather, the sun finally kissing your skin.
You tried to let your thoughts wander from your pending work deliverables, to your next meal plan, to the hot gym guy you had been crushing on– anything to cancel the noise coming out of your ex’s mouth.
If only it weren’t rude, you would’ve put on your AirPods and had Will Ramos’ squeals usher you into oblivion.
But fate did not seem to be on your side as Noah said his parting words at the very same time your brain deliberately stopped thinking of anything else to further distract you.
“Cheers to Nick and Nadine,” he said, a little bit more enthusiastic than his usual self as a smile danced around the corners of his mouth.
And just when you thought it was over, your ex-boyfriend huffed and pursed his lips before uttering his next words slowly, as if wishing worms would not get out of the can if he were careful enough.
“What you two have is… is something… I… I wish I still had for myself...”
Swallowing, you stiffened in your seat as your heart started hammering against your ribcage. Your eyes trailed towards Noah’s face, now adorned with a tight-lipped smile that instantly activated your fight-or-flight response. With brows slightly furrowed, you blinked away and glanced at the groom, who sensed your unease but could only give you an apologetic smile. And as if everyone else shared the same brain cells, the whole table’s eyes were on you, Folio giving your wrist a gentle squeeze.
The words rang in your ears as your chest tightened.
Something I wish I still had for myself.
I wish I still had for myself…
I wish I still had…
You wanted to scoff hard at your ex’s stupid face.
How could he say that when a whole lot of Nick’s guests knew you two used to be together? When he knew that you, his ex-girlfriend of seven years whom he promised to build a life with, were there listening to him stutter those words out?
As Noah ended his speech with everyone raising their glasses, you found yourself standing up– carelessly for that matter– feeling the sudden need for fresh air.
“Um… I’ll be right back,” you mumbled to no one in particular before you hurried your way out of the hall towards the adjacent veranda.
You dryly laughed to yourself as you pushed past strangers and acquaintances alike to get to the ballroom exit.
How silly of you to believe this whole time that it was Folio whom Nick needed to put a leash on.
“Love looks pretty on you, my pretty baby. I love how you love me so delicately.”
Title and quote are from “Love looks pretty on you” from Nessa Barrett. In celebration of the EU Summer Shows starting next week I just felt like writing something cute and fluffy. (1.3 k word of love). Enjoy <3
Everything here is pure fiction based on real people. None of this really happened and it’s just for the sake of entertainment. English is not my first language just so you know.
***NSFW below the cut, 18+, minors DNI, NoahxfemReader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, little smut, feelings, little angst, actually they just love each other***
———
When you woke up you already saw the sunlight starting to peak through the curtains. For once you felt well rested but as you slowly started to truly wake up you couldn’t stop the weight that already found its way back, settling heavy on you chest. You slowly rubbed your eyes before you turned to your left to find your boyfriend still asleep beside you.
He looked so peaceful.
Noah lay on his back, the white sheets carelessly draped over half his body, exposing glimpses of his tattooed body to your loving eyes. For a while you just stared at him, watching his chest slowly rising and falling, his lips a little bit parted and no sign of the stress he’s currently having could be seen on his face.
Your heart ached at the thought of him leaving for tour in a few days but you desperately tried to shove the thought aside when you carefully reached out to caress the slight stuble on his chin with your fingertips. You moved on to the straight bridge of his nose, trying to memorize every part of his face.
It didn’t take long before Noah started to blink his eyes open, letting out a long sigh when he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep: “Morning baby, what’re you doing?”
You never stopped to delicately touch his face when you felt the tears involuntarily start to form in your eyes, clouding the sight of Noah in front of you.
Only a second later you felt a big, warm hand on the side of your face when he softly spoke again: “Hey, hey what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
When you looked up again you saw Noah slightly towering over you, his face on full alert now, big brown eyes searching yours for an answer.
Your heart now ached terribly and you felt guilty for waking him up like that, so your voice came out barely above a whisper: “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…god damn” Why was it always so hard to explain yourself? No one’s known you better than him after the years you shared together but it was still hard for you to communicate your feelings.
“It’s okay baby, take your time. Tell me what’s bothering you.” Noah reassured you, the hand on your cheek now wiping away some of your shed tears, nodding at you with the patience of a saint.
You took a deep breath before you tried to pull yourself together and spoke again, nuzzling your face against his hand: “I just don’t want you to leave just yet. I’m gonna miss you so bad…”
You could see the stress of the last days before the tour started in every feature of his face now. The shadows under his eyes, as well as chapped lips from forgetting to drink because he was so busy with organising everything. He closed his eyes for a second and you could watch his shoulders sinking from frustration when he looked at you again and slowly pulled you into a soft kiss. He barely broke the kiss when he answered against your lips: “I know…I also don’t wanna leave you but we both know I have to.” he kissed you again even slower, making you feel that he meant every word.
Beside the emotional weight that lingered between you, slowly something else began to build between you when you kept kissing like you had all the time in the world. His body tenderly pressed against you and you could already feel his morning wood press against your hip when you weaved your fingers through his hair, slowly pulling him on top of you so he could lazily settle between your thighs. You knew each other well enough that you knew more words weren’t needed now.
Noah once again broke the kiss just to lovingly bite your neck, leaving tender kisses everywhere on his way down between your breasts. When he took one of your sensitive buds between his lips to gently suck at it, he teased the other with his warm hand and whispered: “Gonna miss you so bad. Your smell, your skin, your laugh and the sounds you make when I do this…”
With that he carefully started to circle your clit with his free hand, which made you moan out his name with a sharp intake of air to your lungs.
“Noah please..I need you.” you squirmed when he started to pump two of his slender fingers into your wet heat, a growl leaving his lips, feeling how ready you already were.
He placed another agonising slow kiss to your parted lips before he cooed: “Shh, you don’t need to beg. I wanna feel you too. Every inch…I’ll take it slow baby. I don’t wanna rush.”
When you looked through your damp lashes you could see the love radiating from him so clearly, you felt like you could’ve almost touched it. His eyes never left yours when he slowly pressed into you, making you both gasp at the intensity of the moment, none of you daring to look away first. It was as if you would be afraid to miss even the tiniest bit of one another. When you couldn’t take it anymore you felt the tears well up in your eyes again, so you pulled him down to keep kissing, when he started to move his hips.
It was unhurried and sweet and he made sure you felt every inch of him entering and leaving you over and over again. You felt like an angel in the white sheets of your kingsized bed with the rising sun now colouring the cozy bedroom in a golden light. All the time you stayed impossible close to each other. You wrapped all your limbs around him, to hold him close and he weaved one hand into your hair and used the other to keep himself upright so he wouldn’t crush you.
After a few minutes Noah buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breathing now coming more ragged when you slowly felt your orgasm approach.
“Noah, baby I think I’m close.” you announced with your eyes closed in pure bliss. At this words you could feel him twitch inside of you when he breathed: “Yeah I feel you getting there.” A second later he pulled himself up again so his forehead was almost pressed to yours and pleaded: “Look at me when you cum, angel. I wanna see your pretty eyes when you do so.”
That was all it took for you to snap. With eyes opened wide you could see his blown pupils watching every move your face made. The orgasm was intense and long but it was also soft in a way that it didn’t feel like a crazy explosion and more like riding on a long wave.
It only took seconds for Noah to follow a whispered “Fuck…” involuntary leaving his lips when you felt him tense inside of you, rocking his hips against you a few more times before he went still.
You both stayed like that for a while, his head now comfortably settled on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.
You absently let your hands wander over his shoulders and back as he held onto you, neither of you daring to speak, not wanting to destroy the peaceful cloud you were still floating on.
Only 1.5 months, you told yourself. It’ll be fine. You’ll both be fine.
Because even with everything going on with the band and Noah’s life you two never doubted the love you had for one another and you surely wouldn’t start that now just because his band became more famous.
It’ll be fine, you repeated in your head over and over again before you fell asleep again, the man you loved nestled between your thighs like that was the only place where he ever wanted to be in this lifetime.
