a lil thought i had with noah and how he would absolutely worship and take his time with you.
NSFW 18+ only. smut under the cut.
cw for oral sex (f receiving), body worship, mention of body insecurities
thinking about the soft kisses noah would trail down your body bc he wants to take his time with you. soft kisses and bites all over your chest, tummy and inner thighs.
he can't help but worship you when you're laid out for him like this. it’s almost become a ritual for him, planting kisses on all of your sweet spots before he has his way with you.
he’d focus on your chest first, palming your tits just the way you like it; flicking and circling your nipples with his tongue ever so gently. he knows just how to get those pretty breathy moans out of you.
he’d move to your tummy, kissing each and every spot he can. it’s your least favorite part about yourself, he knows this. he knows how important it is to make you feel good here. “you’re so pretty like this" "so fucking pretty, baby"
he'd trail his way down your torso, until he found your inner thighs. the way he’d hold your hips with his big hands, digging his fingers into your skin, bc at this point, you can't help but squirm underneath him. you're so fucking desperate for him. especially when he is sucking on your sensitive skin and leaving marks that you know will be there tomorrow. he knows that you like to feel them the next day and think about how good he made you feel.
he'd finally find his way to your core, spreading your legs open and admiring how wet you are. he know’s it’s just for him, only he makes you feel good like this. he'd place soft little kisses everywhere except for where you want it the most. he'd even hover his mouth just above your clit, almost enough to where you can feel his lips. he likes hearing you beg for him, for his touch, for his mouth.
he'd finally give in and give you what you want. softly placing his tongue at your entrance and working his way up to your clit, savoring the taste. from the sounds and vibrations of his moans against you, you know that he was just as desperate as you. he might've wanted it even more than you did because making you feel good, makes him feel good.
thinking about a really sloppy make out session rn. Like just sitting on his lap grinding on him, him getting hard underneath you running his hands all over your body. Then just leading to the nastiest sex and just being such a good girl for him :((
A/N: OH MY ANON- (i tired my best muah!)
Warning: language, dirty talk, messy-ish sex, recording studio sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), WE ARE JUST DIVING RIGHT INTO IT!
You both had a day off finally! So of course it was spent cuddled in bed, sleeping in and some homemade breakfast, you were even able to get some chores done around the house! However, that also meant you were finding a lot of old stuff and misplaced things as well. Noah was currently in the top cupboard going through some old things that had been pushed to the back.
"Old pasta sauce?" his voice echoed in the wooden space
"Mmm what's the date?"
"Last month," he hands it to you for you to toss "uh...old chocolate bar still in the wrapper?"
"really? Let me see?" he comes out of the space and hands you the bar of chocolate still in mint condition
"What you gonna eat it?" he chuckled "What brand is it anyway?" he asks looking at the item with you
"I can't remember," you flip it around and see the label had instructions? You read them out loud "Split the chocolate in half with you partner, and allow up to 20 minutes to take effect-OH OKAY! I know what this is," you could FEEL the blush creeping already remembering what this was
"Hey wait what do you mean you know? What is it?" Noah said as he tried getting the candy back from you
"It's nothing!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa wait minute," he stops recalling what the label said "is it...sex chocolate? The one that gets you horny and shit?"
"NO!"
"so.....yes?" he smirks at you finally swiping the chocolate from your hands and unwrapping it
"Noooaaahhhh" you whine
"Come on babe, you act like we haven't done worst shit than this," he pulls out the 3 sets of split chocolate "remember why I got a video camera?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you
"That's different...." you pout
"sure it is babe. Here," he opens a set and breaks off his half and popped it in his mouth passing you yours, "say ah princess,"
You sigh while he holds the chocolate aphrodisiac, you slowly open your mouth and he gently slips the piece on to your tongue as he drags your lips down a bit
"Such a good girl" he teased with the signature grin of his.
"shut up," you giggle shaking your head "now come on we still have one more cupboard to go through"
about 30 minutes later you in fact did not move to the next cupboard. It started with Noah taking his shirt off because he was feeling hot, which only made you stare at his back more. Those tattoos....and wide shoulders...and those arms.....
When he had caught you he stepped closer to you. He was practically looming over you with a deep and hungry stare. One that burned into your soul. His hand ghosts over your stomach and up between your breasts and to your neck. Sending a deep shiver down you spine that ended as a dull ache in your very core. He hoists you on to the counter and slots himself between your legs. His lips were fierce and hungry against yours as his hands claw at your to bring you impossibly closer.
It felt like you were hot and cold at the same time, you were anxious and impatient and you just NEEDED him. Luckily for Noah you were wearing an old tank top...old and flimsy enough for him to see your nipples peak when it got cold, and old enough for him to... *riiiiipp*
You breasts feel free from the cloth as it falls on to the counter
"No bra? Were you planning to get fucked princess?" His large hand cupped one of your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth.
"Mmm Noah," you shudder as he lets go with a pop
"tell me what you want...what you need pretty girl," he voice was low and deep. His pupils were blown and deep and with pure lust. Like a predator that had finally cornered it's pray. Noah lift you from the counter and carries you over to the sofa. His lips crashing down on yours with me and fever. First, he was doubting that that chocolate had even worked, but now he felt like he was ready to take you over and over again in every part of the house.
His tongue swipes across your bottom lip as it slips inside your mouth. Your tongues dance around in an erotic kiss. While his hands were busy, stripping you of your bottoms. He can feel his cock straining against his pants. The more he tasted you the more he wanted to taste and feel. And then need to fuck you senseless only piled on itself.
"need you Noah...so fucking bad...please," which each gap between your mouths you get out exactly what you wanted from him
"need little slut...need me deep in that pussy huh?" he teased, his lips moving to your ear to nibble it just a bit making a shaky breath escape from your lips. One of his favorite things to hear
"p-please..." oh and the begging how he loved it. Thank god he was only wearing his shorts, pushing them down and positioning himself between your legs. His fingers coming down to feel the wetness of your core. You were more slick than usual
"fuck you're so wet," he growls lowly, his middle and ring finger coated in your juices as he brings it back up to his mouth and licked it off his fingers. You couldn't help the deep blush that floods your cheeks as you watch him.
"alright pretty girl, keep those eyes on me...." he hoists your legs on to his shoulders, his lips kiss your left calf. A playful yet sly grin decorated his face as he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit, and god you needed him so badly. His eyes bore into yours as he finally positions himself and slowly pushes himself in , inch by inch. You feel that wonderful stretch and full feeling and you were already seeing stars. He pushes all the way in until the hilt with a deep groan as he watches your mouth fall open in pleasure.
"Fuck! So fucking..." he pulls out just a bit and thrusts back in "tight! Damn princess" he picks up a steady rhythm as he starts to steadily fuck you. You usually lasted so much longer but you already felt like you were going to cum, you eyes were dazed and unfocused, completely engulfed in the sensation of pleasure.
"F-fuck Noah...right there," you pant as he leans his weight down on your legs slightly to get in deeper
"here princess? Like it nice and deep huh?" he smirks as he starts to move his hips harder, faster and deeper
"Oh fuck! Y-yes!" you nails start to claw at his arms feeling that knot starting form in the pit of your stomach
"pussy so tight...and wet just for me..." he pants "Good fucking girl....taking my dick so good..." you could feel his cock starting to pound you to the verge of your orgasm
"N-noah...Noah! Oh god~"
"Gonna cum already? Gonna cum on this dick baby?"
"Y-Yea--oh fuck!"
"Cum....cum for me princess," his next 3 thrusts were enough to push you off the edge and finally cum around his cock. The chocolate completely enhancing your orgasm, as you tighten around his cock, your juices coating him. He keeps moving in and out at a slower pace. The sound of your cum as he thrusts into you filling in the silence of the home
"holy shit babe..... came so much just for me, like a good little slut....my good little slut," he sits back on his heels as he spreads your legs and watches as you drip down on to the couch, coating the entire length of his cock. He watches as his cock pumps in and out of your pussy. "look at that...taking it so fucking good...how about another baby? Gonna fill this pussy up so good,"
His grunts and groans only become deeper as he picks up his pace again. Your walls clenching around him, still sensitive from the last orgasm. Your continuous whines were filled with pleasure and ecstasy as your eyes roll back and your head falls limp. Completely lost in the pleasure, feeling every aching inch that he pumped into you.
"Fuck look at that....so fucking-ugh...."he huffs as he watches intently feeling himself edging closer and closer "Tell me where baby...where do you want it?"
"I-inside please...please Noah fuck!"
"Cum for me again baby.....gonna fill up this pussy....just cum for me again..."
You could feel him twitch inside, as he the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room. He starts to moan as he comes closer and closer.
"Com-coming! FUCK!," he hips give sloppy but strong pumps as he empties himself inside of you, he cock still pumping in and out, fucking his cum deeper into you. You cum again around his cock, your essence mixing with his, flooding on to you and him and the couch below
"Fuck! take it!...t-take it!" he growls as his thrusts slow down as he rides out both of your highs. His hips come to a halt, his body coming down to collapse on top of yours. The room was filled with your pants as you tried to catch your breath be very intense sex that just occurred. One thing was for sure you need to wash the couch before you have anyone come over, or before you even sit on it again as Noah’s head rests on your collarbone, he says between breaths.
“We…need….to buy…..more those….”
“More?” You ask in a half chuckle now believing what you had just heard. You still had another two sets that you could use and he was already thinking about buying more. “You.,.are something else” 
“You’re the one who bought them,” he answers with a chuckle as he kisses the skin of your shoulder. Making a mental note to find any local stores with the same or similar chocolate.
I have a idea for a dom!noah, the reader is already dating him and went meet him pre show, and she is ovulating so anything about him is turning her on: his arms,back muscles, his tattoos, his voice, his smell, and just by looking at her face he knows it and play with it, but she needs to wait until the show ends and they go to a hotel.
With praise kink, ownership kink, cock/body worship, breed kink
well, anything else that you want, feel free to write however you want including or not this things
Noah Sebastian x female reader
18+
Warnings: Dom!Noah, PiV, smut, slight oral (female receiving) breeding kink, ownership kink, praise kink, dom/sub relationship, I’m pretty certain thats it but let me know if I’ve missed anything!
I love me a bit of dom!Noah, he will always be my favourite! I hope you enjoy this and sorry for the wait 🖤
You’d gone to see Noah before he went out on stage. Big mistake.
Just the sight of him in his outfit, mask ready in hand, that one glove. Everything about him was a turn on for you in that moment and he knew it.
You didn’t miss the sly smirk on his face as he looked you up and down when he’s caught you staring again.
“You ok?”
You nodded but you knew he didn’t believe you, he knew your body better than you did sometimes.
Noah pulled his mask over his face and pulled you into a firm but quick kiss.
“Enjoy the show baby, I’ll be counting down the hours until I get you alone in that hotel room tonight”
And with that, he walked to side of the stage with a cheeky glint in his eyes as he prepared to go on. And you were left standing to watch side stage.
You swear that Noah made sure he was ‘extra feral’ during this performance, his growls were deeper, he’s moves were more calculated, he stalked the stage like a predator looking for his pray and making sure to catch your eye while doing it. All of which left you practically drooling while clenching your thighs together.
After the show, he didn’t hang around at the venue and got you both back to the hotel as quickly as he could.
And now Noah was carrying you across the room, dropping you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing. He stood at the edge, his eyes devoured you, your flushed cheeks, parted lips, the need in your eyes that had been building all fucking night.
He stripped off his tank top in one motion, the black fabric hitting the floor with a soft thud.
Your mouth went dry.
His tattoos moved with every breath. His arms. His back. His abs. His fucking veins, even seeing his chain swinging, it was too much. You moaned just looking at him while your legs instinctively squeezed together.
Noah’s hand gripped onto your thigh and gently pushed your dress back so it fell against your hips.
“Ah, ah, ah, angel. Keep those open, show me how wet you got just from watching me perform tonight”
You obeyed, instantly spreading your thighs, showing him your soaked underwear which his gaze ate up.
He groaned. “Fuck. Is that all for me?”
One hand trailed down your body before he dragged your panties down and tossed them aside and then he knelt between your legs.
And stared.
“Look at this pussy” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his eyes never faltering. “So wet for me, its like your were made just for me”
You whined at his words, thighs twitching in anticipation.
He didn’t even touch, just breathed against you, watching the way you pulsed and clenched for him.
Then he licked a slow stripe from base to clit, groaning low in his throat like you were his favourite fucking meal and he had been rationed.
“Oh god…Noah…”
“Say it” he growled. “Say who this pussy belongs to”
“You…It’s yours, all yours…”
“That’s right” He kissed your inner thigh, then the other. “Every inch of you. You’re all mine baby, mine to ruin as I please”
He moved up your body, slipping your dress off as he went, he kissed your neck, your chest, sucked a mark right beneath your collarbone, before finally pulling his trousers down just enough, freeing his cock.
Your breath caught again.
He was hard and heavy and already dripping for you.
He lined himself up and pressed just the tip against your soaked entrance, he didn’t push in, not yet.
“You’ve been aching for this, haven’t you?”
“Yes….please…”
“I can feel it. Your body’s just begging to be bred”
Your whole body jolted at the word. He smiled darkly as he stroked your hair off your face.
“You want me to fill you up angel? Stuff this pretty pussy and make you mine in every way?”
You were beyond words now, just moans, nods and desperate whines as you tried to lift your hips to meet his in need.
And then he thrust in all at once.
You cried out, clenching around him instantly as he bottomed out, his cock pressing deep inside. He hissed against your neck, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding under your thigh to angle you exactly how he wanted.
“So fucking tight!” he groaned low in his chest.
And then he started to move, deep, punishing thrusts that rocked the bed. Every slap of skin echoed through the room, every moan swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you hard.
“You’re gonna come for me and then I’m gonna fill you up, I want you to feel me dripping out of you for days”
You were so close after being wound up for so long, you felt the sinful twisting in your stomach, your whole body was clenching and every nerve felt alive under his words.
“You ready to be mine?” his hips started to jerk out of his usual rhythm, signaling he was about to finish as well. “Always my good fucking girl”
“Yes, yes, I’m yours…I’m….”
Your words got caught in your throat as you felt yourself come undone and you were falling apart beneath him, body shaking as he held you through it. And only then, did he let himself go, groaning as he emptied himself inside you, holding so deep you could feel every pulse and twitch of him.
Noah collapsed into you, breathing hard, lips brushing your shoulder as he rode out his own high. He then kissed your cheek so lovingly as he pushed himself back up onto his forearms.
“You’re mine, always.”
You leant up and kissed him lazily as you both relaxed into each other’s hold, he made no effort to pull out and stayed exactly as he was.
You could feel how your hips and thighs would ache in the morning, you knew there’d be bruises littering your body. And you wanted every one of them.
• Noah shuts down when he’s hurting. Not cold, not cruel — just… gone. You’ll catch him staring at nothing, jaw tight, fingers twitching like he’s trying to calm something in his chest.
• He hates fighting with you. Hates it. But instead of yelling, he goes quiet. Too quiet. The kind that makes your stomach twist.
• “I’m fine.” He says that a lot. Every time he’s absolutely not fine.
• He overthinks everything. One offhand comment sticks in his head for days and you’ll find him acting distant without realizing it’s because he took something the wrong way and let it eat him alive.
• When he feels insecure, he doesn’t lash out — he pulls back. Stops initiating affection. Sleeps further from you. Not because he wants distance, but because he thinks you do.
• The band notices when he’s upset with you. He gets shorter, snappier, distracted onstage. Once, he messed up a cue and Folio just whispered, “Bro, talk to her.”
• He apologizes too quietly. Too softly. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just… I didn’t know how to say it without sounding stupid.”
• He has a bad habit of trying to protect you from his darker days. Cancels plans last second. Says he’s tired. Says he needs to “work on some things.” Really, he just doesn’t want you to see him fall apart.
• His biggest fear? You giving up on him. Walking away because loving him is too heavy.
• Noah will bottle everything up until it cracks out of him at 2 AM. Voice shaking, hands in his hair, confessing things he’s been carrying for months.
• “I don’t want to mess this up. I mess everything up.”
• He clings harder after arguments — doesn’t let you roll away in bed, doesn’t want space, just wants your heartbeat under his palm.
• His love is intense. Devastatingly so. When he thinks he’s losing you, he gets that haunted look, like he can already see the empty space you’d leave behind.
• But he always comes back to you. Always tries. Always reaches. Even when it scares him.
• And when he finally lets the truth slip out, voice raw and honest, it sounds something like:
• “I don’t know how to do this right, but I swear to god I’m trying. I just… I need you.”
Pairing: Noah Sebastian (Bad Omens) × Reader (female reader)
Summary:
A late-night writing session turns into something more when the music stalls but the tension doesn’t. Between half-finished verses, stolen glances, and words too personal to share with anyone else, you and Noah finally cross the line you’ve been dancing around for months. In the glow of the studio lights, it’s hard to tell where the song ends and you begin.
Warnings:
smut (18+), oral (m receiving), dom-ish Noah, slow burn to filthy, teasing, explicit language, emotional vulnerability in the middle of spice, studio setting, creampie, light praise kink, jealousy undertones, soft aftercare, reader with feelings she’s trying (and failing) to hide
Word count: ~2.8k
Author’s note:
bored in a hotel room
You’re an artist yourself. You and Noah come from two different worlds, but you really want to make music together.
After nights in the booth working all alone, everyone has left you two to get to work. But you just can’t seem to capture the emotion. Finally, you and Noah get into the booth together, looking at each other and nail it.
He takes off your headphones, and there’s a moment of strangeness.
Another night, you’re over at his place, working together on the couch, trying to write the second verse. A couple of drinks in, you sit on his lap and make out — but have to stop when a member knocks on the door.
The tension between you is thick. Noah keeps making glances at you, light touches where he can, whispering in your ear.
After what seems like forever, you and Noah are alone in his studio, sitting on the sofa. And finally, you do it.
The entire night had been spent trying to get the right flow and lyrics to the new track, but nothing was working out. Your label had been pressuring you to try something new, and a duet with Noah seemed fitting for a pop girl trying to venture out of her usual sound.
“How about we change the last verse again?” Jolly asked, scratching his head for the millionth time this session.
“To what though? I really don’t want empty space in the song,” you sighed, taking off your headphones.
“What time is it?” you asked through the mic.
“12:45,” Noah replied.
“Let’s just wrap up for tonight, guys,” you confirmed, stepping outside of the booth. The night wasn’t panning out as you imagined, and it was probably best everyone went home.
“Are you sure?” Nick asked, already standing up from the couch.
“Honestly, yeah. I think we just need fresh eyes and ears,” you sighed, plopping yourself down at the desk next to Noah.
The guys began to slowly trickle out of the studio, leaving you behind with a plan to grab drinks tomorrow. Despite all the commotion, you couldn’t help but notice Noah still sat right next to you, clicking away at the track.
“I guess you’re not going home?”
“Nah, I think I might work on the lyrics again,” he replied, now walking to the couch at the back of the room.
“Good. I’m going to join you.”
The rest of the night felt longer than any time you’d ever spent with a person.
The things you never even considered were now every thought that consumed you.
How do I look from this angle? Is my hair out of place? Is he looking at me now?
You couldn’t help but glance at Noah from the side of your eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of him slumbered into his notebook, writing away in silence. The silence wasn’t an elephant in the room, though. It felt like a warm blanket, easing the space into a lull you welcomed.
In the back, the track was on a loop, calming the nerves you felt to finally be alone with him.
“Okay, how do you feel about ‘no god, no religion, just bad decision’?” you asked him, scribbling in your notebook.
“I like that, that flows with the other verses,” he replied, grabbing the notebook from your hand. He began to flip through it quickly, skimming your other stuff.
“Wait — is this your other stuff?”
“Yeah, it’s all the stuff that isn’t that great,” you replied, trying to grab the notebook back. Your cheeks were already flushed at the thought of someone reading through your unpolished work — and it being Noah, of all people, was making it worse.
“Stop. This is amazing. It’s so personal.”
He gave the notebook back, but the look he gave you was so sincere you had to pause and really look at him. The dim red light coming from the studio lamp tinted his features into something daring, almost challenging. The room was still, with only the soft hum of the computer in the background and the quiet presence of a girl and a guy who were always an inch too close — yet still too far away.
“The other ones seemed pretty…” He let his words be swallowed by the silence of the room, but the things unsaid were louder than anything else.
“Yeah… it’s silly.” You tried to fill the silence by brushing past what he had read in the notebook.
“Is it about someone?” he asked, clearing his throat — this time struggling to make eye contact, bringing his cup to his face to occupy his now humming chest and clammy hands.
It was no secret Noah was nursing something for you, but with all the chaos of being on tour, and being part of two completely different worlds, it didn’t seem possible that you would ever be more than a girl he thought of — a lot.
“Yeah. I’m really trying to capture longing,” you told him, placing the notebook on your lap.
The look Noah gave you was so reassuring, his eyes begging for more when words failed to come to his lips.
“Like… that feeling of wanting to cut out your own tongue just so they could have your every word,” you began, now flipping through your notebook to find some of your favourite lines.
“What else do you have there?”
“Umm… wanting so badly to keep someone, you’d be willing to sacrifice your wings just to stay grounded with them.”
“You’re really talented,” Noah said, staring at you.
Your eyes met for the briefest moment, and a warm blush crept across your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you replied, bringing the book closer to your chest, heart pounding like a wayward drum.
“Why don’t you write more like this?” he asked, leaning closer.
“I don’t know. It’s not really what the label would want to hear,” you mumbled, letting your hair fall over your face as you looked down.
“But these are your words… and they’re worth hearing,” he whispered, pushing the stray strands of hair away from your face. His fingers were a soft brush of fire in a tundra of ice and everything forgotten. He set a blaze to every emotion buried under, a spark for someone you always wanted but never knew.
“Some words are just for you, don’t you think?” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes.
“And some are worth sharing,” he whispered back.
His thumb was a small fire, tingling your bottom lip as he traced it. The dam of emotion you felt for a man so tucked away in his own world came buckling down, destroying any reservations you had in this moment.
You didn’t even realise how close you’d leaned in until the side of your knee brushed his.
Neither of you moved.
The air in the room felt heavy, charged. That looping track in the background was the only thing keeping the world moving forward, because everything else seemed to have stopped.
Noah’s gaze lingered on your mouth just a moment too long before flicking back up to your eyes. You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away.
His hand rested on the couch between you, fingers tapping idly like he was debating something. Then, slow and deliberate, his pinky hooked against yours.
It was such a small touch nothing anyone else would have noticed but it made your heart skip.
Neither of you spoke. There was no need.
When his thumb brushed the side of your hand, you swore you could hear your own pulse in your ears.
The distance between you shrank without thought. The heat of his breath grazed your skin, and you caught yourself leaning in just a little too far.
That was all it took for him to tilt his head.
“You are so beautiful,” he finally whispered into the silence, now only a hair away from your lips. His breath became your breath, and all you could do was sit in his embrace. His eyes drifted to the glossy lip you had been nibbling at in anticipation of whatever was to come next.
A new-found bravery was blossoming from the pit of your stomach, and you locked eyes with him, daring him to finally pierce the tension.
“Kiss me,” you whispered into the room, your voice drowned out by the thunder in your chest — a childlike rush for more.
Finally ending the months of anticipation, Noah kissed you.
His lips felt like the first flame after a cold day — the first cup of warmth settling in the pit of your stomach after a long night.
Everything else faded in that instant until there was only you and him.
It was the same feeling you’d had when he read your words — like he could see inside you, and wanted more.
Your hands buried deep into his hair, tugging him closer, wishing away the distance that had always been between you. His hands were a frenzied mess, grasping at the hem of your shirt.
A soft hum left your lips as his warm hands slipped underneath, his thumbs tracing the flesh of your stomach in a painfully slow line. Finally, when they landed on your breasts, he gave them a soft squeeze.
Pulling away from the kiss, he began to trail down your neck, peppering soft kisses into your skin. Lacing your fingers through his hair, a quiet hum parted from your lips as the cold air hit the hot path he was leaving behind.
When he reached your bra strap, his fingers hooked it gently, pulling it down to expose more skin to kiss. The slow pace was agony — a ticking bomb in your chest threatening to erupt.
Pulling your shirt strap down, he captured your right nipple into his mouth. He nibbled at the growing bud, and all you could do was gasp for air, begging for more. Lapping his tongue over your breast, he trailed slowly upward before finally capturing your lips again.
When his mouth met yours, you pushed him back into the sofa and swiftly straddled his thighs.
Capturing his lips once more, you rolled your hips into him, feeling him buck up to meet you. His hands dug into your hips, guiding your movements in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
The warmth of his tongue traced your bottom lip before you deepened the kiss, engulfing him, wanting more.
Soft, wanting echoes filled the room, and the heat pooling in your stomach threatened to spill over.
When the torture became too much, you fumbled for his belt, tossing it across the room. Lifting his hips, Noah helped you push his pants to the floor. The little fabric that separated you now was a delicious, thin veil between you and everything you wanted to feel.
You could feel the wetness soaking your panties, now darkening Noah’s boxers.
“Do you want me to take it off?” you whispered into his ear, biting his lobe.
Noah could barely speak, but a soft hum against your neck was enough.
Reaching down, you stroked his length over the fabric, teasing him, enjoying the way his head fell back against the couch. Slowly, you traced your hand down before sliding off him and kneeling in front of his cock.
You squeezed the base before bringing your mouth over the tip, still covered by the thin fabric. You didn’t suck — just let your hot breath fan against him.
He whined in protest, begging you to end the torture and give him what he wanted.
Again, you stroked down to the base and gave it another squeeze, met with another whimper. Finally, growing impatient, Noah freed himself from his boxers, looking down at the girl kneeling between his legs.
“Be a good girl for me,” he told you, tapping his cock against your lips three times.
Opening your mouth slightly, you took in his salty tip — inch by inch. Groaning at the wet heat of your mouth, Noah slipped into bliss, enjoying the way your tongue ran over every vein.
The way he looked at you in that moment , like you were both a song and the only person who could sing it made your chest ache in the best way.
Your right hand drifted down, middle finger pressing to your own slick slit, rubbing small circles as you continued to take him deeper.
Finally, you stopped, looking up at him with deliberate silence. Rising from your knees, you straddled him again.
Pushing your pink panties to the side, you stroked him once more before positioning yourself.
You wanted to savour the anticipation — not rush to the end, even though you knew that’s what he wanted. Slowly, you sank onto his tip until just the head was inside. Your slickness coated him, and when you hovered back up, the light in the room made it glisten.
Sinking again, this time you let yourself take him a little further, enjoying the stretch, the burn in the best possible way.
“Fuck,” Noah huffed, grabbing your thighs, trying to pull you further down.
“No… I wanna feel you,” you whispered into his ear, hovering above him again.
Torturing him, you sank down especially slow until you were fully seated, your pussy pressed flush against him.
Noah grunted into your mouth, kissing you in a hungry blaze. His kiss tasted like every unspoken lyric between you the things neither of you had been brave enough to sing.
Falling into a gentle rhythm, you began to move against him, gasping at the pressure inside you. His fingers dug into your skin, guiding you into an even faster pace as he neared release with every flick of your hips.
You could feel yourself close too, each thrust pulling you closer to that breaking point. The friction against your clit made you moan, desperate for more.
Looking at Noah, you could tell he was close — the way his grip tightened, the way his eyes burned into yours.
“Fuck… I’m close,” he grunted.
Your nails dug into his shoulders as you quickened your pace, chasing the rush pooling low in your stomach. Every movement sent sparks shooting up your spine, each one bringing you closer to unraveling.
Noah’s hands were everywhere — gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, holding you down so he could thrust into you deeper. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing as his breath came fast and heavy.
The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, broken only by the sound of your moans mingling with his low groans.
“Fuck… just like that,” he panted, his voice tight, almost pleading.
Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The friction against your clit was maddening, every grind sparking heat that was impossible to hold back.
“I’m gonna—” you gasped, but the words dissolved as your body seized with pleasure.
White-hot bliss exploded through you, your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper as your climax ripped through every nerve ending. It was the same ache you felt when he’d first told you your words were worth hearing — like he’d seen you, truly seen you, and wanted all of you.
Noah’s pace faltered — just once — before he buried himself to the hilt, groaning into your shoulder as his release hit. You felt the warmth flood inside you, each pulse of him dragging you into another wave of aftershocks.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The world was reduced to the sound of your uneven breathing and the faint hum of the track still looping in the background.
Noah’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, his heartbeat a steady thrum against your ear.
“You okay?” he murmured, voice still rough.
You nodded against him, letting the quiet settle.
His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles along your back, and you felt the weight of the night ease off your shoulders. There was no rush to move, no need to say anything yet — just the comfort of being wrapped up in him, the warmth of his body anchoring you in the moment.
Eventually, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
“You were… incredible,” he said quietly, almost like it was meant only for himself.
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
He chuckled, low and warm, and for a moment it was easy to forget about the label, the deadlines, the differences between your worlds.
Right now, he wasn’t Noah the artist, and you weren’t the girl with a song to finish you were just two people in the same rhythm.
Pairing: Noah sebastian (bad omens) × Reader (female reader)
Summary:
Noah’s back in town, and all that distance you tried to put between you? Gone. All the silly games and one nights have amounted to nothing, but nights left thinking that there could be more here; and now you need more. Now you’re both tangled in feelings neither of you want to name… but can’t stop chasing.
Warnings:
smut (18+), oral (f receiving), dom-ish Noah, soft but filthy, messy emotions, jealousy kinda??? creampie, tensionnnn, a little bit of angst, reader with feelings she’s tryna suppress and failing, not exactly friends with benefits but not dating either, vibes are complicated™
Words: 2793k
Authors note : lol so this is my trying to practise writing and english again. i haven't done this in years and really losing my skill.
Nights like this were when it was hardest to stay away.
When an ocean no longer separated you, when flights and time zones no longer stood in the way, nothing was easier. Nothing was easier to pretend, easier to ignore the pull. But now, with him back in town, everything felt messy again. The fragile distance you’d clung to was gone, leaving only the aching want you’d tried so hard to silence.
All the pieces that had finally fallen into place were now a scattered mess, with so many of those parts missing.
It had always been like this when it came to Noah. Whenever he came back, he brought chaos with him—a storm in his wake, unraveling the careful balance you had built in his absence. Nothing made sense anymore.
Except for the moments in his arms.
The nights spent tangled beside him. The stolen kisses. The glances across crowded rooms. And the confusion that followed every single time.
Did he want this the way you did?
Your eyes drifted to your phone, thumb hovering over his contact. The call button stared back at you, daring you to press it.
It’s 1 a.m. He hasn’t texted me since the tour started. He’s probably busy.
So many reasons to call him. None to stop you.
Your fingers twitched. Your thumb hovered. Then—finally—you gave in.
The line barely rang before he answered, his voice rough, low, like he’d just woken up.
"Hey."
"Hey."
A stretch of silence.
"You wanna come over?" The words slipped out before you could take them back, quiet but weighted, like a fuse waiting to be lit.
Another pause. A beat too long. Then, his answer was just as quiet.
"Yeah."
The call ended as quickly as it started, but the air in your room suddenly felt heavier. Your phone sat in your lap, screen black, but you still stared at it. Your heart pounded harder than it should. Did he even hesitate? Even for a second?
It didn’t matter now because he was coming. After what felt like forever, a knock echoed from downstairs.You hesitated before opening the door, but when you did, there he was.
Noah.
Disheveled. Exhausted. His dark hoodie hung loose off his frame, and his hair was a mess, like he’d run his fingers through it a dozen times. But it was his eyes that stopped you—clouded, unreadable, searching for something in you that you weren’t sure you could give.
"Noah." His name slipped from your lips, barely a whisper.
He didn’t say anything. Not at first. His gaze dragged over your face, slow, measured—like he was memorizing you, like he wasn’t sure if he should be here.
"How was the tour?" you asked, grasping at something—anything—to make this more than what you both knew it was.
"It was okay." His voice was flat, almost empty, and it took you aback.
"Everything okay?"
His jaw flexed.
"Yeah. It is."
Lie.
But you didn’t press him. You never did.
Instead, his fingers brushed against yours—silent, familiar. A test. A question.
You swallowed hard and took his hand.
"Come."
You led him to your bedroom, shutting out the world. Pretending, just for a little while, that it didn’t exist.
Noah lay flat on your bed, eyes on the ceiling, shoulders tense. You settled beside him without a word, waiting.
Something was different tonight.
This wasn’t like the other nights, where clothes were scattered across the floor within minutes, where hands grasped at skin, where the lingering scent of regret seeped into the air before the night was even over.
Slowly, you placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palm. Then, carefully, you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the soft scent of his body wash.
Noah let out a quiet hum, his body easing beneath your touch, muscles slowly untensing.
And then, softer than a breath—
"I missed you."
Your fingers tangled into his messy hair. A silent confession. A quiet plea.
"You never called," he murmured, turning to face you now.
The tip of his nose barely grazed yours, and all you could do was hold your breath, waiting for him to break the tension, to do anything.
"Every night I thought you would call, and you never did." His voice was quiet, but something about the way he said it made your chest ache.
The air between you was thick, charged. Your silence wasn’t helping.
"I didn’t think you wanted me to."
Noah exhaled, bringing his hand to your cheek, his touch unbearably soft, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin.
Fuck.
He was making it harder. Making you want to believe in things you knew better than to hope for.
You knew you couldn’t have him forever. The only times you were his—the only times you could call him yours—were this. Moments hidden away under linen sheets. Soft hands caressing places unknown. Heated breaths shared with every inch. Every single inch.
"I wish you had," he whispered, voice strained. "Just needed—" He cut himself off, eyes locked on yours, hesitation flickering in his gaze.
"What?" You inched closer, lips a breath away.
"It’s stupid." He sighed, pulling back, breaking the moment before it could swallow you whole.
Before he could escape, you caught his face in your hands, your thumbs pressing gently against the sharp edges of his jaw, grounding him, keeping him here.
You searched his eyes, looking for answers he wouldn’t say out loud. Weeks of radio silence, months of not knowing.
"Please," you whispered, lips so close your breath was his breath.
His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer, like he needed to feel you were real.
"I needed to hear you," he admitted, voice rougher now, like the words had been trapped inside him for too long.
"I needed so much those last few months."
He paused, searching your face.
You swallowed, your pulse quickening under his touch.You tried to ease the tension, pulling your leg over his thigh. "What? Needed more of this?" You teased, trying to laugh.
But the way his body tensed told you that wasn’t it.Noah shifted, tilting your chin up, holding you still.
"No," he murmured. "I needed more of you."
Your heart stammered, the words settling deep.
"I needed more of us."
The weight of them hung between you, heavy, fragile—like something you weren’t sure either of you could hold without breaking.
For a moment, the room felt smaller. The air, thicker. Every shadow of doubt fled, leaving only the truth neither of you had ever dared to speak.
"I miss this. I miss you." You held his face but didn’t dare kiss him. Not yet. Not with everything hanging between you, waiting to shatter.
But Noah had never been one for hesitation.
Slowly, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours, hesitant at first—like he was afraid of what this meant.
"Why are you so nervous?" you murmured against his lips, pulling back just slightly.
Noah exhaled, his fingers tightening against your skin like he was trying to memorize the shape of you.
"I don’t want to keep doing this in secret," he said, voice rough with something unspoken.
"If we cross this line again, I don’t want to let you go."
His words pierced the seal of all the feelings you had tucked away so deeply. Things you had wanted for so long but had been too scared to admit—even to yourself.
But now, you dared to.
Slowly, you raised yourself from the bed, straddling him. His hands found your hips, fingers pressing into your skin, as if grounding himself—keeping you close but not pulling you in. His eyes never left your face, dark and searching, waiting.
Leaning down, your breath mingled with his, lips barely grazing as you traced a gentle hand along his jaw. His breath hitched. And then, finally, you touched him.
Your lips met his in a slow, testing kiss, gentle at first — like your body was asking the question your mouth still couldn’t. His hair was soft between your fingers, and when you tugged lightly, a strained little sound caught in his throat. You felt it — the way his heart pounded under you, fast and hot and unsteady. His hands moved slowly along your back and thighs, pulling you flush against him, and you arched into his touch when a single fingertip traced down your spine, begging for more.
A quiet moan escaped you as Noah's hips lifted beneath you, seeking more of your weight, your warmth. His palms found your skin, rising under your shirt, fingers drifting higher until they reached your chest. His touch was reverent, careful — brushing against the swell of your breast before he thumbed over your nipple through the fabric. The sensation sent a tremble through you, straight to your core.
Your breath caught as you pinched your other nipple between your own fingers, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. He groaned softly into your mouth, hips rising again as your hand fisted in his hair, grinding yourself down against him. There was so much heat between you now — too much fabric, too much hesitation, not enough of him.
“Can I?” Noah murmured, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.
You nodded, raising your arms, and he peeled the shirt off you in one slow motion. His hands moved over your now-exposed skin, warm and firm, pulling you down so he could mouth at your breast, tongue circling your nipple in slow, wet patterns. You let your head fall back, your hips rolling against his again, chasing friction.
He hummed, pushing up to meet your motion with his own. You could feel him — hard and hot through his jeans — as you fumbled with the button, desperate to get them off. When they finally slid down, you traced a line down the center of his stomach, stopping just before you reached where he ached for you.
“No teasing,” he said, breathless. “Not tonight.”
You laughed against his mouth, but he pulled you back up, kissing you deeper now — with tongue and teeth and all the desperation you both had been holding in.
By the time Noah had managed to tug your skirt off, your skin was buzzing, every inch of you tingling with need. He rolled you onto your back gently, then hovered over you, pressing soft kisses to your neck.
“I need you to tell me you want me,” he whispered, lips brushing against your skin, fingers just skimming the edge of your panties.
You wrapped your leg around his waist, silently begging him to move closer. His finger dragged down over the fabric, already damp between your thighs, and you whimpered.
“Say it,” he murmured again, now tugging the lace gently to the side.
“Please,” you breathed — because that’s all you could manage.
He grazed your entrance, barely touching, and your body jolted at the contact. His fingers teased you in slow, deliberate strokes, pressing just enough to make you squirm. You moaned into his mouth as your hips bucked up, needing more.
Growing impatient, you slipped your hand between you, cupping him through his boxers, squeezing gently. He hissed into your mouth, the sound rough and broken. Then his fingers — slick from you — came to your lips. You licked them, slowly, tasting yourself as his eyes darkened.
“Good girl,” he said, voice wrecked.
He licked his own fingers next, and something about the sight made you shiver. Your hand found the edge of his boxers, sliding just inside, your fingers barely brushing his length. He shuddered, hips grinding into your palm.
“You want more?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. Pre-cum slicked your skin, and you brought your finger to your mouth, tasting him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing into your hand again, panting now.
You started to stroke him, slow and steady, building the rhythm. He leaned down, mouthing at your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You curled your toes, biting your lip at the weight of him in your hand, how right this felt.
But then he pulled back, breath ragged.
“Stop—shit, I’m gonna finish in my pants.”
You let go with a smile, and he moved down your body, trailing kisses from your breasts to your navel. His pace was agonizing — like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. You spread your legs wider, silently pleading. He didn’t pull off your panties. Not yet. He just mouthed over them, the wet heat of his tongue pressing against your clit.
You gasped.
Then he pulled away, just enough to use his fingers. He traced slow, lazy circles, teasing you through the fabric.
“You want more?” he asked, voice thick with mischief, before biting softly at your inner thigh.
“Yes,” you said, breathless, too far gone to be embarrassed.
Your panties were finally peeled away, tossed somewhere on the floor, and Noah’s mouth was on you again — this time with nothing in the way. His tongue moved in long, firm strokes, finding exactly what you needed. One finger slipped inside you, then two, and you cried out, overwhelmed.
It was building fast now — the pressure curling in your stomach, the moans falling from your lips uncontrollably.
“I want you,” you choked out, tugging at his shirt, needing him.
But he didn’t move. He laced his fingers with yours, keeping you grounded, his mouth working you through the edge until you tipped over, gasping and shaking, body clenching around nothing.
He kissed his way back up your body, hovering just above your lips.
“Taste yourself,” he whispered, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
You moaned, sucking on it, teasing him. His cock was pressing against your thigh, desperate, twitching with need.
Your hand slipped into his boxers, finally wrapping around him, stroking slowly. He groaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking at the touch. You could feel how close he already was.
Pulling back, you ran your thumb over his tip, collecting more precum. Then, eyes locked, you brought it to your lips.
His mouth fell open.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
You gave him a gentle tug and he bucked his hips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you guided him to your entrance, gliding him through your slick.
“Noah,” you breathed.
He pressed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you. He stayed there for a beat, breathing hard, forehead against yours.
Then he started to move — slow, deep, deliberate strokes. Every thrust pulled a sound from you, soft and needy.
“Harder,” you begged.
But he shook his head.
“No. No hard shit tonight,” he said, kissing you gently. “I want to feel you.”
And you understood. This wasn’t about fucking. This was something else — something more. His hands were everywhere, and his lips didn’t leave your skin. You clung to him, breath catching with each slow, deep stroke as he filled you again and again, never rushing, like he wanted to make it last.
Your fingers slid between your bodies, circling your clit in small, desperate motions, chasing that edge again. He groaned when he felt it — your walls fluttering around him, your body tensing beneath his.
And when your breath hitched, when your thighs trembled beneath his, he just held you tighter — like he knew.
It hit you hard — a wave crashing over every inch of you, pleasure blooming through your stomach, curling your toes and blurring your vision. You buried your face in his shoulder, moaning his name as your body shook beneath him, clenching around him so tight he nearly lost control right there.
Noah's breath caught, and with one final thrust, he came undone — a low, broken moan tearing from his chest as he spilled inside you, hips stuttering, body trembling.
You held his face as he came, forehead pressed to yours, neither of you daring to look away.
As you lay next to Noah in a hazy blur, his fingertips traced slow circles along your lower back. You hummed into his chest, sinking into the quiet, into the warmth of just being with him. Touching him. Feeling him.
“Hey,” he murmured, tucking a finger under your chin to tilt your face toward his.
“Hey, you,” you replied with a soft smile, leaning into the gentle touch that now traced the curve of your jaw.
His voice dropped, almost too quiet to hear. “Can I stay?”
There was a flicker of something in his eyes — like he was afraid you’d say no. Like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
Warnings: smut, p in v, swearing, my grammar, unprotected sex, female masturbation, noah walking in on reader
Parings: Best friend Noah! x Roomate Reader!
(Sorry I haven’t wrote in forever, I finally felt like I could finish a draft 🫶🏻🩶)
Noah was restless. Day after day you were on his mind, and he always had to hide his raging boners from you every time you were around.
You were roommates. You both moved in after he heard you complaining about how you felt like your landlord was spying on you. Noah took it upon himself to offer you to move in with him free of charge.
Everyday you’d wake up in one of his t shirts that were too big for you with nothing underneath. You’d be making breakfast and Noah would act like he didn’t see but in reality every time you bent over he got a full view of your ass and pussy. It had his cock raging.
Endless nights of hearing you pleasure yourself making yourself cum to his name especially, thinking he was asleep when really he’s right there on there other side of the wall pumping his cock.
At one point both of you were so busy you’d send text to each other. Every thing was silly between the two of you, nothing was really taken seriously until he sent you a meme that made your stomach flutter and your pussy ache.
“Bouncing on it once or twice never hurt a friendship.”
You read the meme. It was obviously a joke but the thought of it made your mind spin. His cock deep inside of you, his hands on your waist, the moans and whimpers between the two of you made you start to spiral. You had to leave work early.
You told your boss you felt sick to which they let you leave for the day. You bolted to your car throwing yourself in a driving yourself home to your roommate.
Noah was sitting in his studio recording a beat for a song they were working on releasing when he hurt the front door open followed by the sound of your heels.
You weren’t suppose to be home for another 3-4 hours. Noah got up out of his chair to see you, to make sure you were okay. He knocked on your door waiting for a response.
“Yes?” You replied, making him crack the door open slightly to you just in a t shirt now.
“Are you okay, you came home early?” You wanted to tell him that you were aching for his cock, but maybe it wasn’t good to put this on your friendship he had to mean it as a joke.
“I wasn’t feeling well.. I’m sorry.” You apologized to him, for making him worried about you. You really just wanted to get off and use your vibrator and get these dirty thoughts out of your brain.
“You’re okay Angel you just had me worried.” Noah closed your door and walked back to his room.
For hours Noah heard your vibrator going off and the sound of your muffled moans went straight to his raging boner making it hard for him to focus. You liked his message and giggled at it, but he wasn’t really meaning for it to be a joke. He wanted you as much as you wanted him and the both of you were just waiting to see who would crack first.
After hearing another breathless moan of yours Noah was on his feet to your room. He didn’t even bother to knock this time, knowing that in a few seconds he’s about to change everything between the two of you.
Noah scared you slightly walking into your room taking your vibrator out of your hand, making you cover up around him. You thought you might of bothered him from being too loud, now feeling embarrassed you started your words to apologize to him.
“I-I’m sorry… I’m being too loud-“ Noah cut off your words.
“I’m so damn horny around you I can’t even think straight.” He cut you off, looking back at your pleading eyes, for any sign of doubt what he might do. You both stared at each other before giving him a nod as confirmation that you wanted this with him.
Noah took the blanket off your covered body now leaving you exposed to him in just his over sized t shirt you stole from him. He was on-top of you in an instant.
Your lips were both glued together. Breathless moans and dry humping filled the room. He made you feel hot and pleasured all at once, finally satisfying your craving.
He pulled away from your neck looking for your eyes. “I wasn’t joking about that meme. I want you to bounce on it.” Noah implied, as he flipped both of you so he was laying down underneath you now.
Your hands went to his shirt pulling it off him leaving his exposed chest to you, followed by his shorts he was wearing trying to hide his raging boner under them making you smile at how worked up you had him.
Noah’s soft groan as your hand ran over his boxers let you know how much he needed you. He’s used his hands so many times in the past few days, cold showers, wet dreams all from you and that damn shirt of his you were still wearing.
His finger tips met the hem of the shirt as your palm keeping running over him. Making him suck in a breath or two from the sensitivity he was already feeling.
Noah motioned you take off the last piece of clothing on you, so he could have full access to your body and your skin. You gave him what he wanted, taking the shirt off exposing your breasts and naval to him making him drool at the sight of you.
You swear you saw him twitch in his boxers as your hand came to the hem to take them off. You were dripping for him at this point and Noah wasn’t all for the teasing and foreplay, he’s had enough of that for the past few days. He needs to be buried in you to the hilt, having you ride him till his eyes roll back.
You take shaking breath at the sight of him. He was swollen to the touch, girthy, veiny and beautiful. You absolutely would be frustrated if you were him carrying around that thing.
Your soft palm ran over him causing a low moan to escape from Noah followed by his hand meeting your wrist.
“As much as I’d love to have you play with me, I need you to put me inside you.” Noah nearly pleaded, he was leaking for your touch and warmth.
You slightly raised yourself up lining him up with your entrance giving Noah a slight view of you hearing him mutter a curse at the view of you.
You slowly sat down on him feeling him fill you slowly inch by inch, invading your mind and body all at once. You let out a little gasp at the feeling as Noah’s eyes were screwed shut as you bottomed out with him in you staying there for a minute.
“Fuck… you’re so big.” You muttered, feeling yourself clench around him as his hands came on your waist to help start you to move on him before he’d come too soon.
“I know, baby you’re doing so good. Taking me so good, such a good girl.” Noah’s low voice was right in your ear, praising you while helping you bounce on him.
You let yourself bounce up and down on him while he laid back with his hands behind his head meeting your thrust halfway there.
“Close… Noah I’m close.” You slammed yourself down hearing the sound of your skins colliding into each other making you closer than ever. Feeling his dick in your cervix as if it could do any deeper in you.
Noah’s hands were helping you meet his thrust as you repeatedly slam yourself on him making him throw his head back with his mouth open.
“I’m there.. come with me Angel.” Noah moaned, holding you close to him as he filled you up while you clenched around him taking all of him as he filled you while you flooded his cock. Your body shaking from the after math as he held you close to him, hearing his heart beat fast.
“You did so good Angel. Thank you.” He smiled, while cuddling you with his cock still in you.
Your eyes fluttered open to him before smiling back at him. You knew you weren’t going to be best friends after this, absolutely not.
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. A mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.
⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships, explicit sex and profanity.
I really need your reblog! On Tumblr, the content reaches more views and is delivered more through reblog and I really wanted more people to be able to read what I write.
I'm counting on you from now on, ok?
Your fingers trembled around the cold doorknob, the icy metal pressing against your adrenaline-heated skin. You tried again. And again. But the door remained motionless, as if Grimshade itself were holding it shut, refusing to let you leave. The air in the archive room felt heavier, and invisible whispers brushed against the nape of your neck.
Darkness swallowed the space around you, an oppressive void growing denser with each passing second. The only light came from the gap beneath the door—a pale, distant sliver, utterly insufficient to ease the tightness in your chest. Your breathing quickened, short and uneven. You swallowed hard, trying to control the suffocating sensation creeping up your throat. But panic was a wild animal inside you, scratching, tearing, desperate to escape.
“Shit… Shit!” Your voice came out broken, a mix of desperation and fury.
The palm of your hand slammed against the hard wood. Once. Twice. Nothing. The silence in the room was maddening, as if unseen eyes were watching, shadows trapped between the dust-covered files. A shiver crawled down your spine—the overwhelming feeling that something—or someone—was there, waiting.
You twisted the doorknob again, pulling harder, feeling your knuckles ache. But the door didn’t budge, not even an inch.
Your heart pounded against your ribs, frantic, as if it wanted to burst out, as if you were trapped in a fragment of distorted reality where each second stretched into eternity.
Heat surged through your body, burning from the inside out, an electric frenzy of fear and desperation. You staggered back two steps, eyes scanning the oppressive darkness around you. Your chest rose and fell violently, blood roaring in your ears.
That was when you felt it.
The sensation of something behind you.
Icy dread sliding down your spine.
The scent of old paper mingling with something damp, rust… blood?
A choked sob escaped your throat before you could stop it. You whirled around, shadows dancing at the edges of your vision. But there was nothing. Only the suffocating emptiness of the room.
Panic overflowed.
Your body moved before your mind could form a coherent thought. You lunged at the door again, pounding on it with all your strength, fists burning, the wood cracking under the force of your blows.
“SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE!” The scream ripped from your throat, raw, visceral—a cry of pure desperation that echoed off the walls.
Hot tears burned your eyes, your vision wavering between terror and exhaustion. You swallowed down the sobs, but the knot in your throat was crushing, a suffocating weight stealing your breath.
Then, without warning, the doorknob turned on its own.
You froze.
Ice flooded your veins.
Time stopped.
Then—a click. The door swung open with a jolt, nearly throwing you off balance. Fresh air from the corridor rushed in, mixing with the stifling heat of the room, and you stumbled forward, chest heaving, legs weak.
Drained of strength, you wiped the stubborn tears from your face with the sleeve of your coat and broke into a desperate run. Your feet tripped over their own rhythm, driven more by terror than by the endurance of your exhausted body. The world around you blurred into shifting shadows, formless figures blending into the darkness of the corridor.
Each step was a battle against the cramp pulsing in your calf, but you didn’t stop. You only let your body collapse when you reached your room, slamming the door shut behind you.
You slid down against the cold wood, lungs burning with ragged breaths. Wide eyes darted around the room, searching for something to anchor you to reality. With trembling fingers, you dug your nails into your own arm, pinching hard.
Nothing changed. No sudden break in the illusion, no abrupt awakening.
This wasn’t a nightmare.
Everything that had just happened was real.
You woke up feeling shattered, every muscle protesting against even the slightest attempt at movement. Your eyes opened reluctantly, heavy, as a low groan slipped from your lips. Who would have thought that sleeping on the floor would come at such a high price?
With effort, you forced yourself to stand and realized you hadn’t even taken off your coat from the night before. The wrinkled fabric clung uncomfortably to your skin, and your head throbbed with each step toward the bathroom, as if a cruel hangover were punishing you.
The mirror reflected nothing but exhaustion. No cuts, no bruises—nothing to suggest a real attack. As difficult as it was to accept, you had to convince yourself that the episode in the records room had been nothing more than a moment of heightened tension. A stuck door. An oppressive environment. An exhausted mind that amplified the weight of the situation.
Nothing more than that.
"But what about Elias’s file? The one you found?" The nagging voice of your conscience whispered as the soap slipped between your fingers.
Warm water cascaded through your hair, dripping from your lips, but the cold wind seeping through the jammed window sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Your teeth clashed together, and your thoughts tangled into a spiral of unsettling possibilities.
Maybe Elias’s case was just an unfortunate coincidence. A man predisposed to psychosis who encountered a trigger strong enough to push him over the edge.
Yes… just that.
You left your room determined to pretend the previous day had never happened. In the cafeteria, you had a strong cup of coffee while scanning your clipboard—just routine appointments, nothing out of the ordinary.
“Girl, we work in the same place, and I almost never see you!”
Sloan’s cheerful voice broke through the air, loud enough to nearly make you jump. You had been so engrossed in your schedule that the sudden interruption hit like a shock.
You lifted your gaze to her and managed an automatic smile. For a moment, you found yourself analyzing the girl in her nurse’s uniform, wondering if she knew something. If she had seen you running the night before. If she had ever witnessed anything unusual in the records room. But you kept those questions to yourself.
"Yeah… I've just been so busy," you replied, offering a half-hearted smile.
Sloan didn’t even wait for an invitation—she sat across from you as if it were her rightful place.
“You look tense. I was going to invite you out for drinks in town, but this week has been hell with the new patients.”
“Good call… I’m not really in the mood to go out.”
Sloan pouted in dissatisfaction, resting her chin in her hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She seemed genuinely interested. That unsettled you a bit. In university, you had a small, selective group of friends, but nothing that extended beyond academic obligations and a few events you attended just to feel part of something. You weren’t used to this kind of casual female attention—the idea of someone wanting to be your friend without a practical reason.
You changed the subject.
“You mentioned registering the new patients. Those records go to the third-floor archives, right?”
It was stronger than you—in the end, everything circled back to work.
“The newest ones stay downstairs until the attending psychiatrist signs them off,” Sloan replied absentmindedly, twirling a loose strand of hair between her fingers.
“Funny… Given how long Noah has been here, he should have already been signed off by the psychiatrist in charge. But I couldn’t find anything on him in the archive room. I have a file, but I wanted to check how he was first registered when he arrived at Grimshade.”
“Then it’s probably with Dr. Steve.” Sloan shrugged before standing up. “The old man likes to keep whatever he considers important… wouldn’t be surprised if he held onto Noah’s case because of all the commotion.”
“Why not Dr. Rune?” you asked without any particular intention.
“He would’ve been a good option, but Dr. Rune barely interacted with Noah, as far as I know. He handled the case while Noah was still in prison awaiting trial and was the one who gave the diagnosis that got him transferred here. But when he arrived at Grimshade… Rune wasn’t in charge anymore, remember? He was taken off the case because he didn’t get along with him.”
Sloan paused for a moment, as if reprocessing the information, then simply shrugged.
“Yeah, so Noah’s file is definitely with Dr. Steve,” she repeated.
You nodded slowly.
“Thanks for the help, Sloan.”
Without warning, the girl leaned in and placed a quick kiss on your cheek.
“See you later!” she chirped before walking away, light and carefree, leaving you behind—more restless than ever.
Between one patient and another, you found a moment to review your schedule and noticed something unusual—Noah’s appointment had been rescheduled for later than usual. In an environment like that, any change in routine was reason for suspicion.
Without hesitation, you picked up the phone on the desk, used only for internal communication, and dialed the extension for the Hidden tower. After a few rings, the head of the day shift security answered.
“Hello, this is administration. I noticed that a patient’s schedule was changed, and I’d like to understand the reason. His name is Noah, and…”
“He has a scheduled visit today, so his times were adjusted,” the guard interrupted.
“A visit?”
“Yes, his sister is coming to see him.”
The information caught you off guard. There had never been any mention of a sister, and as far as you knew, no one cared enough to visit him. But here was your golden opportunity—someone from his family, finally present.
“Understood. Could you tell me what time the visit is scheduled for?”
“In 35 minutes,” he replied before hanging up.
Enough time to make sure you’d be there.
Inside the abandoned interrogation room of the Hidden, you fought against nausea, sitting beside a massive mold stain creeping across the wall. The table in front of you was so filthy it looked like it could glue your fingers to the wood, and the monitor displaying the visitation room was so outdated that it still showed black-and-white images. Everything in that place was repulsive—the stale air, thick with dampness, the greenish slime crusting down the walls, triggering a growing sickness in your stomach.
They really took the concept of punishment to another level.
“No sound?” you asked the guard, who was adjusting the screen with a piece of wire, trying to improve the image. Now, you could clearly see Noah sitting on one side of the table and, across from him, a girl.
“Does madam also want me to bring her a snack? I shouldn’t even be showing this. These images are only released with a court order,” he grumbled, letting go of the wire and stepping back.
“So, no sound?” you repeated, ignoring his sarcasm.
“No, no sound,” he huffed, crossing his arms.
Alright. You’d have to rely on your talent for reading body language.
The girl was visibly anxious to see him. She had barely sat down before trying to hold his hand in a gesture of affection, but Noah pulled away. He wasn’t having a good day—not that he had ever had one since arriving there. His face remained expressionless, his gaze hard, fixed on her without the slightest flicker of emotion. On the other side of the table, the young woman watched him with melancholy, speaking nonstop, searching desperately for any opening that might draw something out of him beyond that coldness. But it was useless.
You didn’t blink the entire time, determined not to miss a single detail. And yet, Noah didn’t say a single word. He only observed her with an unsettling apathy, his eyes scanning every inch of her, as if searching for something. For a moment, you wondered if he was struggling to recognize her. Places like this had a way of distorting the senses, confusing memories. But that wasn’t it. In truth, what was written on his face was something deeper—a deep-seated disillusionment, a resentment that she, too, could see, making her shrink in her chair.
Her body language radiated shame—rubbing her arms, biting her lip, jumping from one topic to another without success, discreetly wiping her damp eyes twice. And then, just as you were completely absorbed in analyzing every detail, a loud bang snapped you out of your trance.
On the screen, Noah had slammed his hand against the table before abruptly standing up, turning on his heels, and pounding on the door for the guard to let him out. He didn’t spare her a final glance, didn’t hesitate. He just turned his back, without a shred of remorse.
Your steps were quick as you left the isolated room behind, cutting around the back of the Hidden and taking a shortcut along the side. The overgrown weeds, long neglected, brushed against your legs, and the relentless buzzing of blowflies made the air even more suffocating. When you finally reached the main entrance, you saw the girl walking out.
She walked with slumped shoulders, a suppressed sob caught in her throat, her uneven breathing betraying recent tears.
“Hey…” you called softly, unsure if she would hear you. But when her steps faltered for just a second, you knew she had.
Quickly, she tucked her hair behind her ears, repositioned her glasses, and swallowed hard before continuing. Summoning courage, she reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a handkerchief, extending it to the girl as soon as she stepped closer.
“Th-thank you.” The young woman took the handkerchief and squeezed it between her fingers, without much conviction.
“I understand your reaction. This place isn’t the easiest to visit.”
She remained withdrawn, pulling her coat tighter around herself and taking a deep breath in an attempt to control her tears. Her face had an almost unreal delicacy, angelic like a porcelain doll. Her round, slightly upturned eyes gleamed brown under the cold light, and her pale, porcelain-like skin was tinged with a soft red on her cheeks—a mixture of the cold and her emotions.
“I don’t think it was the place,” she murmured with a bitter smile. “Honestly, that was the least of my problems today. I was visiting my brother…”
You walked alongside her as she resumed moving, feigning surprise.
“Brother?”
“Yes, Noah… I believe you know him.”
“Oh, what a coincidence.” You remarked, eyeing her curiously. “He’s my patient.”
From the side, you noticed when she studied you more intently, her eyes scanning you from head to toe before settling on your face.
“Would you mind if we talked for a few minutes? I promise I won’t take up much of your time.” Your voice came out gentle, trying to establish a tone of trust.
Farther ahead, in the garden where patients wandered aimlessly amidst the overgrown landscape, you found an isolated table. She hesitated but soon agreed to join you.
“I apologize for the indiscretion of approaching you outside the Hidden… I barely asked your name, but I felt like I needed to help you.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to sound understanding.
“Cianan. My name is Cianan Blackridge.” Her voice was so soft and delicate that it demanded your full attention to understand.
“I was surprised to see you here, Cianan. Since I started treating your brother, I’ve noticed he doesn’t usually get visitors…”
“Why are you treating him?” she interrupted, narrowing her eyes with a hint of suspicion. “Noah already had a psychiatrist. We weren’t notified that this changed.”
Taking a deep breath, you intertwined your fingers on the table. Cianan, on the other hand, remained withdrawn, as if trying to maintain her distance.
“His psychiatrist was Dr. Rune—I assume that’s who you’re referring to. But he was removed from the case during the trial period. There were many conflicts between them during the sessions, and their relationship became unworkable. To prevent his treatment from being compromised, the administration decided to replace him.”
She lowered her eyes, gripping the handkerchief she still held. “I came here in secret. My parents aren’t in town. If they were, my father would never have allowed me to come.”
“Your brother didn’t seem to react well to your visit.”
“Apparently… no.” Cianan’s smile appeared, but her eyes remained heavy with sadness.
“From the way you’re shaken, I imagine it didn’t go as you expected… did it?”
You never had siblings and had no idea what that relationship was like, but you noticed that, like Noah, Cianan was wary of random approaches. The difference was that, when it came to family bonds, she was easier to reach.
“The man in that cell now is very different from my brother… I can assure you of that.” She sniffled, drawing in a breath before continuing. “Noah always made up for our parents’ absence. They were always busy, distant… but he wasn’t. He cared about my grades, kept an eye on me when I got sick, but he hated scolding me.”
She let out a weak laugh, and for a moment, you almost smiled too.
“No matter what I did wrong, he never raised his voice at me. His patience with me was almost surreal… Even on his worst days, he never let it show.” She paused, then hesitantly added, “You, as a psychiatrist, must know that’s not exactly healthy, right?”
“Yes.” You cleared your throat before responding. “He wrapped you in crystal, protected you to the point that he may have never allowed you to see his own pain. You grew up seeing a superhero, not a brother who had his own struggles.”
“I miss him.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
Cianan averted her gaze and clasped her hands tightly on the table. Her voice trembled in her next confession:
"I’ve never seen him look at me like that… As if I were a monster. As if he hated me… or didn’t recognize me. I’ve always been careful to be someone he could be proud of. But today, even without saying a single word, he looked so disappointed.”
“Well, he’s been here for a while without any visitors, which explains the negative reaction. Noah felt abandoned.”
“I tried to see him when he was still in prison. He refused every visit. Mom also tried calling, but he never picked up. Noah doesn’t want to be tied to us anymore… to our surname. He rejected us before Dad had the chance to do it himself.”
“I imagine this whole situation has affected your father a lot.”
Cianan let out a short, humorless laugh. “He was furious. Dad doesn’t like seeing our name in crime headlines. We’ve spent over three centuries protecting our reputation.”
You believed her. The girl looked like a wax sculpture—motionless, delicate, controlled.
“To him, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is, Doctor.” Her smile appeared, but her eyes remained heavy with sorrow. “He says this matter needs to disappear. Only then will things go back to normal, and the Embley family will take us off their radar.”
You frowned.
“Sorry, I’m not sure I understand…”
“The Blackrigdes and the Embleys have been allies for centuries in the civilization my family helped build on the island. Since its discovery, we have shared this territory. The peace agreement between the families was sealed when the first Blackridge married an Embley. The union of fortunes and bloodlines made us a single clan. That’s the tradition.”
For a moment, your mind seemed to stall. The way Cianan spoke made it feel like you had been thrown centuries into the past. Was marriage for convenience still so common within these families?
As you got lost in thought, you noticed Cianan resting her hands on the table. On the ring finger of her right hand, a diamond shone—large, yet delicate and elegant, without seeming extravagant.
That was when the memory surfaced: Noah had reacted to seeing her hand in the visitation room.
He had been shaken when he realized his sister was engaged.
“Congratulations on your engagement.” You remarked, offering a faint smile and gesturing toward the jewel with a subtle tilt of your chin.
“Oh… thank you.” She responded, fidgeting with the ring with slight hesitation, a shy, restrained smile on her lips.
Cianan took a deep breath before continuing.
“I’m marrying Richard Embley… Rachel’s brother.”
For a moment, you remained silent, absorbing that information. So that was it.
The alliance between the families was being maintained, regardless of what had happened between Noah and Rachel.
Cianan noticed your reaction and forced a polite smile, but her discomfort was evident.
“So the bonds remain strong,” you commented carefully.
“Yes. As I said, tradition.” She slid her fingers along the edge of the ring, as if trying to distract herself from the topic. “Dad would never allow that to change. He said it was time I found a husband.”
“And… are you happy with that?” Your question was casual, but your gaze remained fixed on her.
Cianan hesitated for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh, averting her eyes.
“Of course. Richard is a good match. An honest, responsible man… He always follows the rules and would never bring dishonor to our family. For us, that’s as serious as a crime.”
There was something in the way she said that that felt rehearsed, almost automatic. As if she were repeating words that weren’t truly her own.
The culture of punishment and obedience in that family was clear. And in a way, it explained a lot about Noah.
But before you could dig deeper, Cianan took a deep breath and stood up.
“I should go. I’ve spent too much time here already.”
You nodded, but you still had so many questions.
Especially about Noah.
About Rachel.
And, above all, about what really happened between them.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
One hour and 47 seconds.
He was very late.
You left your office as if fire were coming out of your nostrils, ready to face anyone who crossed your path. Noah had pushed the limits of your patience, and this time, you weren’t going to let it slide.
On the way to the lower floor, you noticed an unusual movement—guards agitated, pacing back and forth, murmuring something into their handheld radios. Your eyes narrowed in alert, but your steps remained firm as you descended the stairs.
As you reached the garden, the chaos became even more evident. Your stomach turned upon seeing one of the guards being carried on a stretcher, the tense expressions of those around him revealing that something serious had happened. Rune was coming out of the administration building, and after directing them on where to take the injured guard, he came toward you.
"What the hell are you doing out here? Didn’t you hear the signal?" he asked.
You had stormed out of the office so angrily that you hadn’t even noticed the loud siren echoing through the faulty speakers of the sanatorium.
"What’s going on? Is this some kind of escape alarm?"
"It means a patient snapped and attacked a staff member."
Your feet froze in place, and your gaze immediately turned toward the commotion. The movement was coming from the Hidden.
Noah.
Before you could rush toward the most isolated building in the sanatorium, a firm hand grabbed your arm, forcing you to stop. Dr. Rune. He stared at you with his usual apathy, and you lifted your chin slightly, facing him.
"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked, his tone dripping with irony.
"I’m his psychiatrist. If he had an outburst, I need to be there."
Rune shook his head in a slow, disbelieving gesture.
"I don’t think so…" he murmured, biting his lip slightly. "Noah had a violent outburst, destroyed his own cell, and almost killed one of the guards. He’s on the brink of collapse. Do you really think this is the best time for a little visit?"
His insinuating tone irritated you instantly.
"I’m starting to worry about your level of involvement in this case, Doctor..."
"Enough."
"Then maybe you can explain why I was informed that four of your patients were left without treatment yesterday. You’re neglecting your duties. And worse, the work is falling on me!"
"I had a setback in the archives room."
"I don’t care. How you manage your schedule doesn’t interest me, but you know what really bothers me?" He leaned in slightly, his voice laced with provocation. "Having to cover your mistakes because you’re obsessed with the silent psychopath."
You barely had time to process what he said before you felt your blood boil.
"Obsessed?" you repeated, your tone full of indignation. "This is called doing my job."
Dr. Rune chuckled condescendingly, that infuriating laugh that made your patience plummet even further.
"Oh, of course, because neglecting four patients to chase after Noah is such a great example of professional commitment," he said, running his fingers over the sparse beard growing on his chin. "If you dedicated half the time you’ve spent meddling in what’s none of your business to your work, we certainly wouldn’t be having this conversation."
You took a deep breath, trying not to let the anger take over.
"I’m not chasing anyone. If he had an outburst, it’s my responsibility as a psychiatrist to intervene. That means I should be there now, instead of wasting time arguing with you."
He tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing your expression.
"And what if I told you that you don’t need to?" he asked, keeping that damned provocative tone. "That he’s already been subdued, drugged, and that you’ll only get in the way?"
Your hands clenched at your sides.
"I’ll assess that for myself."
This time, he narrowed his eyes, and for a brief moment, the coldness mixed with something that looked like… amusement.
"Then go," he said, stepping back. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you."
You and Noah hadn't been together long when Mayhem fest rolled around, and he was desperate to take you.
Not only would you be meeting his friends for the first time, but you would also be seeing him perform for the first time.
The whole journey, Noah was a bubble of nerves and sheer excitement as he rambled about the new effects and staging.
He was like a excited little kid at Christmas time unwrapping the biggest present under the tree.
The venue was packed with fans practically overlapping eachother. It was views like this that made you understand why Slipknot referred to their fans as maggots.
Noah introduced you to Matt, Davis and Michael first, with plans to introduce you to the others following the set, seeing as you would be standing with them in the sound booth for the duration of the set.
You followed Matt to the sound booth, with Davis and Michael following close behind us.
"Look." Hushed voices murmured and whispered around us.
Suddenly, You became very aware of your surroundings.
"She's the one who came in with Noah. They were holding hands and stuff." A voice muttered.
"Ew." Another whispered.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hide as much as you could, which was difficult considering you were in an open space.
“She’s not what I expected.” The voices were persistent.
“I agree. Noah should stay single. Gives us more of a chance with him.” They giggled and soon it was beginning to become overwhelming.
You tried to hide behind Davis and Michael as Matt busied himself with setting up his equipment.
Before you knew it, strong arms wrapped themselves around your middle.
Noah.
“Hey you.” He smiled down at you.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, puzzled by your boyfriend’s sudden appearance by your side.
“Figured I would watch Poppy’s set with you.” Me mumbled into your hair, kissing the top of your head.
You smiled up at him, still confused.
“Matt texted me about those girls.” He nodded towards the group of girls who were staring at you with disgust.
“Back off. I’m hers okay.” He practically snarled at them.
He smiled down at you, kissing you softly as Poppy came on stage to begin her set.
It was nice, watching a show in Noah’s arms with some of his friends.
And you didn’t have to worry about any of his fans who didn’t like you, because after all, he was yours.
