A fangirl living in her head

She/her. I’m in my mid twenties. I'm learning as I go. This account will have adult themes, either by me or by the posts I reblog. 18+ only

[supersquirrel1996]

Masterlist

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO HAVE MY STORIES ON TV AND ANY OTHER PLATFORM I DON’T PERSONALLY PUT IT ON. THANK YOU

Started: April 14 2021 Updated: June 23 2021

Wattpad

Chris Evans

Beautiful Trauma- Ongoing

Sebastian Stan

A Beautiful Lie- Ongoing

[jung-koook]

jungkook trying japanese snacks ♡

[jjkwithyou]

JK's vlogs in Las Vegas

[kooksie7]

each time he does it gets more addictive

[jung-koook]

we know jeongguks eyes are big but sometimes they look extra big like 🥹

it's jeongguk and his big eyes against the world

[jjkvisions]

Good Girl || Jeon Jungkook

Good Girl is a married Jungkook x reader story about control, trust, and quiet intimacy. Jungkook sees through your strength and exhaustion, offering you a choice instead of a command—to hold control or give it to him. What unfolds is a deeply consensual dynamic where submission is comfort, not weakness. Blending heat with softness, the story centers on being seen, protected, and loved in the spaces where the world goes quiet.

Masterlist

𐙚 Genre: Erotic Romance Power Dynamics

𐙚 Warnings: This story is 18+ it contains Explicit sexual content, Dom/Sub themes, Mature language, SMUT !!

𐙚 wc: 1.9k

𐙚 Paring: Jungkook x wife Reader

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Marriage didn’t soften Jungkook.

If anything, it sharpened him.

You learned that in the quiet moments—when the penthouse was dim, city lights bleeding through the windows, and he watched you the way he did when he was already three steps ahead of you. Jacket off. Sleeves rolled. Tattoos visible. Wedding ring catching the light as his hand rested against the counter.

“You’re restless,” he said calmly.

You shrugged, pretending you weren’t pacing. “Long day.”

He hummed, unconvinced. Jungkook never missed details. Not the way your fingers kept flexing. Not the way you avoided his eyes like you were afraid he’d read you too easily.

“Come here.”

Two words. Low. Certain.

You didn’t move right away.

Anyone else might’ve thought you were challenging him. And maybe you were—just a little. You’d always been strong-willed, sharp-tongued, dominant in your own way. He married you knowing that.

But Jungkook didn’t repeat himself.

He simply waited.

The silence stretched, thick and deliberate, until your body betrayed you. Your feet moved before your mind finished arguing. When you stopped in front of him, he reached out, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up.

“There you are,” he murmured.

Your breath stuttered. Every time. Married or not, he still did this to you.

His thumb brushed your jaw—not tender, not rough. Possessive. Familiar. He studied your face like it belonged to him.

Because it did.

And you loved that it did.

“You’ve been pushing all day,” he continued. “Running things. Handling people.”

His thumb paused just under your lip. “You don’t have to do that with me.”

Your pulse jumped. “I know.”

“Do you?” His eyes darkened, just a shade. “Because right now, you look like you’re holding yourself together when you don’t need to.”

You swallowed.

This was how he undid you. Not with force—but with understanding.

He stepped closer, crowding your space without touching you again. You could feel his heat, his presence—solid, unmovable.

“Tell me,” he said softly. “Do you want control… or do you want to give it up?”

The answer sat heavy on your tongue.

You lifted your eyes to his, defiant spark still there, but your voice came out quieter than you intended.

“I want you.”

That was all it took.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, like he’d been waiting for permission he already knew he had. His hand slid to your lower back, guiding—not forcing—you closer until your chest brushed his.

“Good,” he said. Not praise. Not yet. More like a promise.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, voice dropping.

“Then let me take care of you tonight.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

You nodded—because words were useless now. Because with him, submission wasn’t weakness. It was trust. It was choosing him again and again.

He smiled, just barely.

“That’s my good girl.”

And the night hadn’t even started.

_

He didn’t give you time to think.

One second you were nodding, the next his hand was at your neck—not tight, not careless—just enough to remind you exactly who was in control. His mouth crashed into yours, deep and demanding, stealing your breath like it belonged to him.

You gasped into him, fingers fisting his shirt.

“Jungkook—”

He lifted you without effort, like you weighed nothing. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking behind him, your body molding to his. The growl that slipped from his chest was low. Dangerous.

“Hold on,” he muttered, already moving.

Your back barely touched the bar before he set you down, careful despite the fire in his eyes. His hands stayed on your thighs, spreading them just enough to cage you in—to make it impossible to forget you were his.

He leaned in again, slower this time. Deliberate.

His lips traced your jaw, down your neck, lingering where your pulse betrayed you. One kiss. Then another. Until you were breathing harder than you wanted to be.

“You always react right here,” he murmured against your skin.

Your head tipped back without permission, offering more. He noticed—of course he did.

“That’s it,” he said softly. “Let go.”

His hand tightened slightly at your neck—not to hurt, never to hurt—just enough to ground you, to anchor you to him. You shivered, confidence melting into something warmer. Deeper.

Something only he got to see.

Your fingers curled into his hair as his mouth returned to your lips—slow, possessive kisses, like he was claiming what was already his all over again.

The city hummed outside.

The bar was cold beneath your hands.

And Jungkook was everywhere.

He pulled back just enough to look at you—really look at you.

Eyes dark. Voice steady.

“Tell me when to stop.”

You didn’t.

You never did.

His eyes searched your face like he was memorizing the moment.

When you didn’t answer—didn’t resist—his jaw tightened, not with anger, but restraint. The kind that took effort.

“Look at me,” he said.

Quiet. Deadly calm.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his. His thumb pressed beneath your chin, tilting your face so you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“You tell me when it’s too much,” he said.

You nodded.

His hand left your neck slowly, deliberately—like he knew you’d miss it the second it was gone.

And you did.

Your body leaned forward without permission, chasing the contact.

___

Jungkook noticed.

A sharp exhale left him. “Don’t.”

One word. Firm.

You froze instantly.

Satisfaction flickered in his gaze—quick, dangerous. He stepped in again, crowding your space until your back arched against the bar, until the only thing grounding you was the steady pressure of his body between your knees.

His lips ghosted your skin—not kissing, not yet—close enough that every nerve lit up. He dragged his mouth up your throat, stopping just under your ear.

“I need you to stay right here,” he whispered. “Still. Waiting.”

Your breath shook. “Jungkook…”

“Patience,” he warned softly. “Or I stop.”

That did it.

You nodded immediately, swallowing hard. Obedient. Open. All that strength you carried every day laid willingly at his feet.

A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth.

He leaned back, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt slowly—like he knew exactly what it was doing to you.

Until all you saw was his bare chest and sleeve

Your legs were already spread for him.

He gripped your thighs and leaned in again, mouth finally claiming yours—slower than before. Deeper. No rush. No mercy.

Just control, heat, and the promise that he was nowhere near done with you.

And you knew it.

You felt it.

Because Jungkook always took his time before he broke you.

_

While kissing you, Jungkook’s fingers slowly traced the loose shirt draped over your body, lifting it inch by inch. Your plump breasts and lacy red underwear were revealed.

“Red…” he muttered, teasing the thin band of your underwear. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled them down, letting them fall to the floor.

His gaze locked with yours, intense and unyielding, as he reached to unbuckle his pants. He laid the belt on the counter, then carefully slid the zipper down.

You couldn’t help but notice the hard bulge that had formed, and it made you ache even more.

He pulled his pants down all the way, then his underwear, his cock springing up immediately.

Jungkook rubbed his fingers against your wetness, coating them effortlessly. Without hesitation, he slipped his fingers into your core, drawing a soft whimper from your lips as he brushed his mouth against your neck.

His fingers moved swiftly, thrusting inside you, making your toes curl in pleasure. He then sank his lips into a patch of your neck, eliciting a low moan that left a pinkish-purple mark when he pulled away, clearly satisfied.

When he withdrew his fingers, you whimpered, craving more. Jungkook didn’t hesitate—he pulled you off the counter and down onto your knees.

“Suck,” he commanded.

You licked your lips and pumped him a few times before taking his tip into your mouth, softly sucking and teasing.

“Don’t tease, baby,” Jungkook growled, locking eyes with you.

You took him fully, bobbing your head up and down, making him let out a low moan. His hands guided your head, helping you take him deeper, while your hand teased his balls, drawing another groan from him.

“Just like that, baby,” Yes… just like that,” he breathed.

You harshly sucked him before deepthroating once more, gagging slightly but holding eye contact. Jungkook’s lower lip was caught between his teeth, watching how eagerly you were taking him.

But his patience was wearing thin. Pulling you off, he whispered in your ear, “I need you.” He guided you back onto the kitchen counter, rubbing his hard cock against your folds before thrusting inside.

You threw your head back, reveling in the way he filled you. He pulled out only to slam back in, making a wet, intoxicating sound.

“All wet for me?” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours, hands gripping your waist. His lips hovered near yours, his hot breath fanning over them, making it impossible not to want him.

Jungkook pounded into you with force, his hand gripping your neck while you clutched the counter tightly, lost in the heat of it.

He pulled you closer, slipping his sly tongue into your mouth. Jungkook’s hips slammed into you, each thrust making wet noises and the sound of skin slapping echo through the room.

Effortlessly, he lifted you, holding your legs as he continued to drive into you, the city lights casting a glow over your entwined bodies.

You dug your nails into his back, feeling your orgasm building rapidly. “J-Jungkook!” you screamed, your body shuddering as pleasure washed over you, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Jungkook groaned at the sudden tightness but didn’t slow, pushing deeper as your juices dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck! You feel so good,” he growled, his thrusts becoming harder and more desperate.

A few more hard pumps, and he released, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. Slowly, he pulled out, watching the last of it drip onto the floor.

He set you back on your feet, his arm secure around your waist so you wouldn’t stumble, both of you still trembling from the intensity of it all.

You looked up at him, breathless, dazed—and smiling.

Jungkook chuckled quietly, that low, fond sound reserved only for you, before leaning down to press one last kiss to your lips. It wasn’t demanding this time. Just sweet. Lingering.

“Your beautiful ,” he murmured, brushing his thumb under your eye.

he scooped you up effortlessly, bridal-style. You let out a small laugh, instinctively curling into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Jungkook,” you sighed, half amused, half melted.

“I’ve got you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He carried you toward the bathroom, lights dim, the city glowing behind you. Warm water, clean towels, his quiet humming filling the space as he took care of you like it was second nature.

Later, wrapped in fresh sheets, your head rested against his chest, his arm draped lazily around you. He pressed a kiss to your hair, fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles along your back.

You smiled, eyes heavy. “I love you.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“I know,” he murmured—then softer, just for you, “I love you too.”

And like that, the night settled—gentle, safe, and full of the kind of love that only grew stronger when the world finally went quiet.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ── ⋆

Thankyou for reading <33

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls- (NEW SERIES) Joe Jonas Chapter One: Off Limits

Follow me on Wattpad @Cup-of-Jonas

✨Masterlist✨

The hallway outside the stage wings glowed with a low strip of bulbs along the baseboards. Sound swelled and fell through the concrete, a living tide from the bowl of Madison Square Garden that pressed against the walls with every chant. Radios crackled. A cart of waters rattled by. Claire kept her pace steady, clipboard tucked under her arm, Joe's spare mic pack warm in her hand.

"Five minutes to lineup," the stage voice from the stage manager called from the tunnel.

She rounded the corner.

A warm hand caught her wrist. The door with his name on it swung open. She was pulled inside before she could say a word. The heavy door thudded shut and the world outside dropped to a muffled roar.

The dressing room was small and private. A vanity framed in bulbs. A narrow sofa with a folded jacket tossed across the arm. A rack of shirts that still held the clean heat of steam. The air smelled like his cologne, cedar and skin and the faint ghost of stage smoke.

"Mmmm Joe," she started, breath catching.

He crossed the space and met her like a spark finding tinder. Her back touched the wall and his chest pressed to hers. One palm braced beside her head. The other found her waist and held, firm and sure, like gravity worked between them.

He kissed her.

It landed hot and certain, hunger wrapped in relief. Her clipboard slid onto the chair. The mic pack spun on the counter. She curled her fingers in his shirt and pulled him closer when she should have told him to go. Mint and heat. The rasp of his stubble at her cheek. His thumb tilting her chin so he could taste her deeper.

"You are supposed to be on stage," she whispered, smiling against his mouth because the warning had no teeth.

"I will be," he murmured. "In a minute."

The crowd throbbed through the walls. In here it was only breath and pulse and the slow pull of his mouth on hers. His hand slid to the small of her back and stayed, anchoring her. The other threaded into her hair, a gentle drag that tugged a soft sound from her throat. He swallowed it with a broken little laugh that sounded like victory.

"You are going to get us caught," she said, though she did not move away.

"They are all busy," he said, lips traveling along her jaw. "No one is looking for us right now."

"Liar," she breathed, shivering when he found the warm place below her ear. "Everyone is looking for you."

"They can wait," he said, smiling against her skin.

She pulled him back to her mouth. The kiss slowed and deepened. He kissed her like he was learning the shape of a secret. Like he wanted to remember the taste for later when the lights swallowed him. His heart kicked against her palm. Hers matched it. The mirror lights haloed them in soft gold.

"I missed you today," he said, voice low and warm.

"How? You saw me all day," she teased.

"Not like this," he said, and the words landed in her chest like heat.

Footsteps ran past the door. A radio barked a code. Claire felt the tremor in her shoes and did not care. He lifted her an inch on his thigh without thinking and she rose to meet him, mouth opening, breath leaving her in a soft, helpless sound. He answered with a rough noise that lived somewhere deeper than his throat.

"It's so hard to see you all day and pretend I don't want this," he murmured against her lips, each word breaking between kisses.

"You are insane," she said, laughing into the kiss wrapping her leg around his.

"And you love it," he said, and kissed her again this time placing a hand on her thigh.

He grazed her thing gently teasing her and making her melt softly. Dipping his hand under her skirt slightly to feel more of her upper thigh. She moaned softly but grabbed his hand.

"Off limits,Jonas. You are going to be late!" She said breaking the kiss.

The stage manager shouted from the hall. "Two minutes, where is Joe Jonas?"

Joe groaned. He dragged the pad of his thumb along the curve of her mouth, then pressed a slow kiss to it like an apology. He did not step back. His eyes were bright and wicked and soft all at once.

"After," he said.

"After," she promised, the word warm against his lips.

He tried to go. He straightened her shirt with careful fingers that lingered. He fixed his jacket. He ran a hand through his curls and made them worse. He looked at her in the mirror and forgot how to breathe for a second.

"Go," she said, smiling in spite of the ache. "Find me in the crowd."

He kissed her once more like he could not help it. Then he opened the door and slipped into the thunder.

Silence hummed in his wake. Claire pressed her fingertips to her lips. Her mouth felt kissed. Her ribs felt tight. The room held the glow of his cologne and the heat of him, like a secret that would not go out. She scooped her clipboard, looped her camera strap across her body, and reached for the handle.

Joe didn't leave. The latch clicked behind him. The door shut again.

He had turned back. He crossed the floor in three strides, laughter in his breath, relief in his eyes, and kissed her like he had remembered something vital and come back for it.

"What happened to being on time?" she asked, laughing as he crowded her against the wall again.

"I don't want to leave you," he said, kissing the smile from her mouth.

"You are the worst, and not making this easier" she said, kissing him back, deeper.

"I am your worst," he said into her lips, and the truth of it made her knees threaten to give.

His hands moved like he had a map that only he could read. Over her ribs. Down her sides. Back to the small of her back where his palm fit too perfectly. She arched and he made a low sound that felt like yes. He tasted like adrenaline and mint. She tasted like yes right back.

"You are shaking," he said softly.

"Well you did that," she said, and kissed him to prove it.

Another sprint of footsteps passed outside. Voices lifted, paused, moved on. He drew back by an inch, breathing hard. His forehead rested against hers. He smelled like cedar and sweat and the last chord of the set that had not even started yet.

"Promise you will meet me after?" he said intertwining their fingers. No demand. No pleading. Just warm certainty, like sunrise.

"Try and miss me," she said, eyes bright. "I dare you."

He laughed, low and ruined. "I always miss you and it makes me want you even more."he said closing the space, her back still against the cold cement wall.

"Go," she said, even as her hands framed his face like she could keep him here with touch alone. "Before we have to test the lock."

"We would fail that test," he said, mouth curving.

"We absolutely would," she said, and the laugh turned into a soft sound when he kissed her again, slow and deep and grateful.

Another knock sounded somewhere down the hall. He breathed out like it hurt. He set one last kiss on her mouth, then another, then forced himself to step back an inch. Only an inch.

"You are fire," he said, eyes warm, gentle smile.

"You are the gasoline," she said.

"Terrible combination." He smirked and then laughed.

"The very best, you need to run now." she said.

He opened the door. He looked back once, the Leo flash of a grin, bright and reckless, the kind that makes a person say yes to trouble. "After?" He kissed her hand.

"After," she echoed, and it felt like a secret handshake.

He was gone.

Claire stood very still for three heartbeats. The dressing room held the echo of his laugh and the heat of his hands and the taste of mint on her tongue. She smiled without meaning to, gathered her things, and stepped back into the storm, the whole stadium roaring and her pulse roaring right back.

Behind her, the room kept their secret. Ahead of her, eighty thousand people waited. Somewhere between the two, a man she was not supposed to love turned a corner and ran for the light.

Joe's stride ate the hallway, adrenaline still buzzing in his veins. The crowd's roar was louder here, a living wave waiting to break. He rounded the corner toward lineup and nearly collided with Nick and Kevin.

Both of them froze.

Nick's brows lifted just enough to say what the hell was that. Kevin's head tilted, eyes narrowing in the way an older brother doesn't even have to speak to be understood.

Joe ran a hand through his hair like it might erase the flush in his cheeks. "Sorry I'm late," he said, breath still uneven.

Nick's mouth curved slow, sharp. "Yeah, you look real sorry."

Kevin didn't even blink. "Stage is that way," he said, tipping his chin toward the tunnel.

Joe smirked, a little too quickly, because he was still carrying the taste of her and didn't care if they knew. "I'm going."

They stepped aside, letting him pass, but Nick's quiet laugh followed him down the hall.

Joe didn't turn around. He couldn't. If he did, the grin on his face would give him away completely. Instead, he jogged into the floodlights, letting the crowd swallow him whole while the secret in his chest burned brighter than the stage itself.

[supersquirrel1996]

I just saw them!!!

Such a good story

[vinyljonas]

torture

you surprise joe a few nights earlier than he expects, and he makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates it

Rating: NSFW, 18+ minors dni. Includes smut

Word Count: 5.8k

—————————————————————

For a man with so much to do, Joe was always on his phone. And damn did it make it hard to pull off a surprise.

But not impossible.

It just took some planning, and a fair share of white lies. Most the time, you and Joe could see each other every few days, though it always involved a flight for one of you. Your job was flexible, Joe’s bank account was plentiful, and of course the two of you were eager to spend any time you could together.

But when you’d compared your calendars at the beginning of November, between a busy work week for you and movie promo and shows for him, it was a stretch of 15 days with no possibility of even one night together.

And that, in the book of Joe Jonas, was torture.

Which was evidenced by the fourth screenshot you got on Saturday of a flight to the next city he would be in, captioned with a “👀”

You laughed to yourself, stifling it down quickly as to not disturb anyone else as you sat in the airport, 4 days ahead of schedule. By some miracle you’d been able to move your work up to earlier in the week, and then all you had to do was throw him off.

You’d had to find a way to turn your location off, even put a placeholder on your shared calendar for a fake dinner with your friends to make it realistic. After a fake pout on FaceTime just to make you smile, Joe had told you how excited he was you were getting some girl time and that he couldn’t wait to hear about it after his show.

You waited until you got on the plane to respond to the screenshot.

I’d do anything to be on a plane rn haha, only 4 more days!

He hearted the message.

miss you so much. too many days :(

you’re so busy you won’t even notice, you teased.

His text bubble popped up immediately.

bullshit, I’m always thinking about you. Literally couldn’t sleep last night without you there

I'm sorry baby. But really, the next few days will fly by

but I'll be so lonely, all by myself, in my sad cold hotel bed without my hot, lovely girlfriend to snuggle with

You felt yourself roll your eyes, knowing the exact tone he would have said it in if you'd been there next to him. But it still made you blush before you responded.

there's always Nick

you're literally the worst

you love me anywayssss

true. about to head into sound, I'll call you tonight when I get back if its not too late, text me when you're done with dinner so I don't interrupt! and tell everyone I said hey

You hearted the last message, settling back into your seat and closing your eyes as the plan unfolded.

----------------------------------------------------------

The flight drug on so long that you felt like you'd never make it to the car. The anticipation was killing you, and you had to keep yourself from jogging to get to the exit doors.

You'd looped Nick in on your plan a few days before, to which he had thanked you profusely for coming so Joe would finally 'stop whining'. And he'd also made sure to send someone from their team to pick you up and bring you to the arena, which was something Joe always arranged. Safety wasn't something he played about, and you knew he'd be upset if you didn't ensure you were with people he trusted.

It made the transition at the venue much easier. You went through the bus entrance, careful to not be seen the closer you were to true backstage. The show had already begun by the time you got there, Jesse coming off stage shortly after you found a good hiding spot.

Or so you thought.

"Y/N? The fuck?"

You whirled, startled. Sure enough, the youngest Jonas had spotted you down the hall.

"Frankie? Shhh! I'm surprising Joe, no one was supposed to see me!"

"Oh thank god. He's been moping all week, it's miserable," he grinned, pulling you into a hug as if it was the most casual thing he could hear you say. "And don't worry, they won't be back here. I forgot my shirt for the finale on the bus, that's the only reason I'm here, backstage is way up there."

"Okay good, I really thought I was in the clear, you scared the shit out of me!"

"My bad, my bad," he chuckled. "What's your plan?"

"Honestly? I don't have one. Didn't think that far ahead," you admitted. "I need somewhere to freshen up though."

"How'd you get a driver? Does anyone else know you're here?"

"Nick knows."

"Oh, well then I'm sure you can use his room, I used it earlier. Malti and Pri are here anyways so he’s with them somewhere.”

"Perfect. Can you sneak me in there?"

"Scouts honor," he grinned, leading the way. You stayed mostly tucked behind him, shooting Nick a text to fill him in. The coast was clear with the door in sight when you heard him.

"Kev, did you take my last throat saver?"

You froze at the sound of Joe's voice, but only for a moment. Then instinct took over and you folded back around the corner you'd just passed, holding your breath.

"I took it!" Frankie squawked, trying to distract him before he got suspicious.

"Bro why? I literally bought you a pack in bulk like last week, no way you already used them all." His voice sounded gruff, as if he really hadn't slept well in his cold lonely hotel bed.

The ache you had to turn the corner and see him startled you in its intensity. Of course, you'd missed him terribly since you'd kissed him goodbye and sent him out the doors of your apartment so many days ago, but it hit you like a train to have him so close.

"I put it in your usual spot behind the pillars on my way off stage. Sorry bro," Frankie countered.

"Oh. Yeah that's fine, just next time use your own," Joe grumbled. You heard him walk away, a door closing behind him. You let out a breath when Frankie came back around.

"That was close."

"You think! Are you sure he isn't gonna come back out?"

"Nah, he already found a shower to sing in. He'll stay in there until he goes to stage in a bit. You're golden. C'mon."

He ushered you past Joe's door quietly, opening the door to Nick's dressing room and following you in.

"When are you gonna surprise him?" He kept his voice low - the walls were so thin you could hear Joe doing his vocal warm ups beside you.

"No idea. Maybe when you all come off stage?"

"No, you know what you should do? You should be backstage during Nick's set, like behind the pillars."

"People will see me back there from the obstructed seats though."

"So? The paps have already taken a million pictures of you all, who cares."

"Joe cares," you reminded him. It wasn't that he minded for you to be seen - it just hurt him any time someone said something negative about you, to the point where you avoided trying to give people the opportunity.

"Okay, then be at the bottom of the steps. I'll get his attention in his in ears."

"That could actually work," you mused.

"I know, that's why I said it," he grinned. "I'm good at scheming you know. Anyways, I'll see you later. Just be there after cake by the ocean and I'll send him."

And with that, Frankie was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in Nick's room. You could tell Malti had been there by the few toys that were strewn around on the floor, and it made you smile to know that he was probably running around chasing her somewhere.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you picked it up expecting a text from Nick.

Instead, it was Joe.

about to head to stage. miss you so much and really really really wish you were here

You looked around the room, expecting a camera, or even for him to have snuck in somehow. Had he seen you earlier? Another text buzzed through.

we are never spending this long apart again. seriously. I hate it.

One more buzzed in.

Can we FT tonight if you aren’t too tired after dinner? Need to see your face

It took everything in you not to run to his door and throw it open. But you knew the pay off would be so worth it, and that he would hate having to go on stage right after seeing you if you went now. So you bit your tongue and instead typed back.

have the best show baby, I can't wait to see you. love you more than you know! And of course we can, I miss you sm

You heard his door open and you held your breath so you could hear him walk past Nick's door towards stage.

When you knew the coast was fully clear, you got to work freshening up, grabbing the few things from your purse and praising yourself for your proactive packing. You'd worn a cuter outfit than you'd usually sport for a plane, one that hugged your figure in a way that you knew Joe would love.

You'd had to spend the last week watching thirst traps of him pop up on your tik tok, and you wanted to remind him that two could play that game.

Soon after you'd finished, you heard the roar of the crowd start, signaling that the boys had made their way on. So you snaked your way through backstage, following the noise until you found a hidden spot where you could hear.

You found yourself smiling the whole first half of the show, in awe of hearing all of them sing so effortlessly. Somehow it flew by despite your anticipation growing, and before you knew it the lighting changed and cake by the ocean began to play.

The screams got louder and louder as Joe put on his performance - you knew he was eating it up at the end of the catwalk, living his rockstar dream. You could picture it in your mind, and your heart took off in a flutter as the song wound down.

You came out of the shadows and to the bottom of the stairs, fingers crossed that Frankie could pull it off. It only took a moment for you to realize that he had - Joe came into view, a black, bedazzled cowboy hat perched on top of his head.

But even that wasn't enough to distract from his expression when he saw you. He froze, blinking hard at first, and then his feet couldn't take him fast enough.

He skipped the last two, almost falling towards you as he wrapped you up in the tightest hug you'd ever gotten, bare arms glistening with sweat as he coiled them around you.

"What the fuck! How the fuck, what are you doing here?"

He was yelling between the roar of the crowd and his in-ears. You reached up to pluck one out of his ear so he could hear you.

"Somebody said something about a lonely hotel bed," you grinned as you spoke into his ear.

He shook his head in disbelief, and a bit in awe it seemed. You watched as he scanned over your head, then checked over his shoulder to see if anyone could see the two of you.

Even though it seemed clear to you, he pulled you to the side, tucked a bit more behind the stairs before he cupped your face in both his hands and kissed you, hard. The brim of his hat pushed against your forehead and you flicked it off of him, fingers immediately going into his curls. You knew you shouldn't mess up his stage hair, but you just couldn't find the brain capacity to care when he kissed you like he'd never get the chance to do it again.

His hand slipped down, spreading along your lower back and pushing you up against him, so close you could feel the rhinestones from his jeans pressing against your waist. You couldn't get enough, arms wrapping around his neck in a bid to get closer to him - you moaned when his other hand came around to wrap up in your hair.

There was no way you were going to be able to stop. It felt too good, and you hadn't realized how much you missed this until you didn't have it. But god damn was it worth waiting for.

You felt Joe hiss in a breath through his teeth, and only then did you really come back into your body and remember where you were. You didn't have to ask, you knew someone had cued him from his remaining in-ear. Jealous was almost over, and he had to go.

"You’re fucking killing me," he groaned, kissing you again before forcing himself to pull away.

"I'll be here when you're done," you reminded him. "Waiting for you."

"Torture," he countered. You laughed, reaching up to wipe the lipstick you'd left off of his lips, praying you weren’t just smearing it in the darkness.

"Hurry back then."

He saluted you jokingly, kissing your forehead before reaching down and grabbing his discarded cowboy hat, perching it on your head. He turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs without another word, but you caught his last glimpse back to you before he disappeared.

You were flushed, cheeks hot as you came down from the rush. Adrenaline still pumping, you caught sight of a mirror off to the side and walked to it, giggling at your wild hair and smeared make up.

And then Joe was back, and he was running.

“Babe?”

“Forgot my fuckin quick change!” He yelled, and then he was throwing his belt off without a care and ripping his shirt over his head, stripping down to his underwear in record time.

You were laughing as he looked at you, a mixture of panic and incredulity mixed together in his eyes.

“This is the best strip tease I’ve ever had,” you teased, making his ears blush red in the dim light. He threw on his burning up tank, then his cover shirt and jacket, yanking his pants up quickly.

“Here!” You scurried over, helping tuck his shirt in in the back to speed up the process. It was somehow harder to do than any task you’d done all day, and the two of you were cackling through your struggle.

“Love you, have fun!” You called, smacking his ass on the way to the stairs.

“Come watch,” he said, leaning down one more time to kiss you before he took off at a run, jumping back into the show without missing a beat.

You stood there, breathless all over again as you tried to come down, skin on fire.

Come watch. Did he really mean that? You had obviously been to many of his shows in the six months you'd been together, but always backstage or hidden in a suite somewhere. But you knew that Priyanka was out there somewhere, and it emboldened you to move before you could talk yourself out of it.

One of the boys security escorted you past the venue workers until you made it to the family and friends VIP corral. You were relieved to see Pri, whose face lit up. The screaming had reached another level as you moved through the gate, laughing as she pulled you into a tight hug.

"Nice hat!" She called out over the crowd and you froze. You'd totally forgotten you still had it on.

So much for keeping a low profile.

You went to pull it off but Pri stopped you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Too late now! Just have fun!"

And you did. You ignored the phones you knew were zooming in on you and instead you danced and jumped and screamed with her all night. It wasn't lost on you that Joe noticed you, the widest grin spreading across his face. He even threw you an 'i love you' sign that made you blush. You were having so much fun that you were startled when the lights cut.

"C'mon, let's go," she ushered you through as if she'd done it a million times before, leading with confidence until you were backstage again just as the boys ascended the stairs, the screams reached their loudest of the night, begging for an encore.

Pri squeezed your hand as you all tucked in by the stairs.

"I'm going to go make sure Malti went down okay, it was so good to see you!"

You hugged her tight before she left, watching until she made it out of sight before scoping out a spot. There was an equipment box nearby that you were able to climb onto, sitting patiently and kicking your feet along to the beat as you waited for Joe to return.

It felt like it took ages for them to all reappear, arms slung over each other's shoulders until they reached the stairs.

Nick was first down - he gave you a quick wave and then headed straight off. Kevin was next, who you gave a high five on his way past. Frankie followed, offering you a fist bump and a wink. You'd have to thank him properly later for helping you out.

Then it was Joe.

And damn did he look good. The mesh of his tank top clung to his damp skin, chest rising and falling as he came down from the high. His curls were deliciously messy, and you reached up to pluck a stray piece of confetti from it as he got within reach.

But that was all you had time to do - because then you were squealing as Joe grabbed your hips, throwing you over his shoulder as if it was nothing, right hand coming up to grasp the top of your jeans and keep you steady.

"Joe!"

"Yes ma'am?" His tone was laced with innocence and you couldn't help but laugh. He walked down the hallway as if he owned the place, as he often did and you just prayed no one would see your ass in the air.

He finally let you down when you got back to the dressing room, gently lowering you onto the couch, making sure your head landed on the pillow instead of the frame.

Immediately he was above you, placing a knee between your thighs so he could lean over you, hovering just above your lips.

"So. You wanna tell me how you got here?" His voice was deeper than you expected, and it pulsed right through you.

"I pulled some strings. Figured you might like the surprise," you replied innocently, fighting every urge to lean up and catch his kiss. The tension was electric, almost unbearable.

"Might?" He crooned, leaning forward until his thigh connected with you, the friction making you hiss. You were almost embarrassed of how hard you were breathing, hanging on the edge, waiting for him to move. “You fly across the country to see me, tease me mid show, and then you go out there, dancing around in my hat for the whole world to see, when I can’t even put my hands on you.”

“You told me to,” you reminded him, but there wasn’t even a hint of bite in your tone.

“Torture,” he whispered, running one finger down your jawline, making your whole body shiver in response.

You weren’t sure if that was what broke him, or if it was affecting him as much as it was you, but finally, finally he kissed you, swooping down to catch your lips.

You groaned, pulling him closer to you any way that you could, desperate for anything he could give you. When his lips moved to your neck, scruff scratching at your flushed skin, you thought you’d die right there.

His hips found a rhythm against yours in a way that had you panting in moments, hand in his hair trying to look for any purchase to keep you down on earth.

And neither of you had even shed a layer.

“Joe,” you breathed. He didn’t respond, just nipped at your earlobe and tugged at your waist to bring you closer.

“Baby,” you tried. That got a moan out of him, which wasn’t helping your resolve.

“We should wait. Until we get to a bed.” You almost couldn’t believe you were saying it. Your body was saying otherwise, but you knew in the back of your mind that you needed to go.

“You overestimate my self control,” Joe said gruffly, kissing you again. You matched him, unable to resist as you opened up for him again and again. “Been too long since I’ve had you.”

“What’s another ten minutes,” you teased, and the smile against his lips was just enough to pull him out of the intensity of it.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, dropping his face into your chest for a moment before sighing and standing up.

He was hard in his dress pants, and you couldn’t help but beam a bit in pride.

“Glad you’re proud of your work,” he grinned, offering you a hand to pull you up. As soon as you were on your feet you went directly back into his arms, already missing the heat.

He kissed you without hesitation, but pulled back far too soon for your liking.

“If we’re gonna make it back to the hotel you’re gonna have to behave.” His tone made you squeeze your thighs together, which didn’t go unnoticed. He smirked at you, and you knew the game was on.

He didn’t say a word as he moved to his clothing rack, back turned to you for a moment as he untucked his shirt, pulling it painfully slow over his head and tossing it in the bag of clothes from the rest of the show.

You watched the muscles in his back ripple as he pulled out an oversized graphic tee, taking his sweet time putting it on.

Next was the belt and pants, which were replaced by athletic shorts that showed off his thighs. You could tell he was adjusting to try to hide his dick, which did make you laugh.

“Is your stuff here?” He mused, tone almost too casual. Trying to keep control.

“Just my tote bag. The rest is already in your room.”

“Perfect.”

You grabbed the bag, eager to get moving but Joe slid the straps out of your hand, carrying it for you as he took your hand and casually led you down the hallway.

He knew exactly what he was doing - payback, if you had to name it.

But you didn’t give in. No, you kept it together all the way to the SUV, pretending you didn’t notice the way his hand lingered on your leg as he helped you up into the passenger seat.

You caught your breath as he came around to the drivers side, and you took the chance to scoot as close as you could, hand finding his thigh as he started the car.

You heard him hiss a breath in through his teeth, even felt the muscles in his thigh twitch, but he kept his eyes forward as he began the drive, following security in the SUV in front. You kept your touch as light as you could, tracing tiny shapes and words with your nail against his soft skin.

It only lasted a minute before he couldn’t take it any more. He snatched your hand quickly, but the kiss he delivered to the back of it was gentle.

“I’m begging you. Behave, please, so I don’t crash this car,” he growled.

You flushed at his words, shifting in your seat.

“Sorry baby,” you murmured, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead softly, and you sat in the electric hum that filled the car until you finally made it to the underground private garage for the hotel.

Joe wasted no time once you were parked. He came around to your door, helping you down and then placing his hand dangerously low on your back to guide you to the doors.

He handled getting the key card from security, and once he confirmed his wake up time for the morning, he lead you to the elevators.

You felt like your whole body was vibrating on the ascent, the tension so strong you weren’t sure you’d make it to the 20th floor without jumping his bones.

Somehow, you did. He laced his fingers through yours as you made it to your room. He held the door open for you, following you in and kicking off his shoes casually, placing your bag down gently on the floor. You took your shoes off with a bit less grace, tossing them to the side and waiting.

He took one look at you, and it was over.

He was on you before you could even move, your back immediately pressed against the wall, though his hand cupping your face kept you from hitting your head.

He parted your lips with expertise precision, tongue gliding in a way that had you immediately melting into his touch.

You didn’t care about messing up his hair now. It felt like home in your hands to run through his curls, to the nape of his neck. When he stopped to breathe you took your chance, ducking down to his neck and kissing right under his jaw.

His legs buckled under him, and you grinned against his skin, nipping just barely but that was all it took.

With one swift grab you were in his arms, legs going up around his hips automatically as he carried you over to the bed, laying you out without breaking the contact once.

The friction of him over your aching core was enough to have you pulling at his clothes, begging for more skin to access.

He stood up fully, eyes hooded as he looked down at you laid out before him. It was so intense you almost looked away, but the promise of him lifting his shirt was enough to keep you focused on him.

His fingers were on your waistband in the next moment, undoing the button with ease and tugging your jeans and underwear off in one.

You could barely breath as he dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, hands wrapping around your thighs to pull you to the edge.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, already flushed.

“I was thinking about this the whole time I was on stage,” he said casually, and then he went to work.

The combination of his tongue, his fingers and his stubble was lethal. You were hypersensitive everywhere, blissful and yet wanting to crawl out of your skin at the intensity.

“Jesus, fuck,” you squeaked after only moments, fingers gripping his hair as he worked you over, fast flicks and a wicked grin to match.

“Let it go baby,” he hummed, rubbing his thumb in a quick circle that sent you straight over the edge, back arching so hard he had to hold you steady by your thigh so you didn’t slide off the bed.

He kissed your inner thigh before easing up to his feet, sliding down his shorts and boxers and kicking them off.

Still panting slightly you sat up, tossing your shirt and bra off to the side, moving to drop down to your knees and return the favor.

To your surprise, Joe caught you before you lowered, kissing you hard.

“Need to be inside you. Now.”

You couldn’t remember a time - ever - that Joe had turned down a blowjob. But when you kissed him again you felt just how hard he was between you and you didn’t question it. Instead, you walked him backwards, turning him until his legs hit the bed.

He got the hint and laid out quickly, cock twitching as you made your way to straddle him. He put one hand behind his head, bicep flexing in a way that made your breath hitch. God, how was he even real? His perfect curls were a mess on top of his head, lips swollen and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and you still had never seen anyone more beautiful in your life.

He was being very patient, but you could almost feel how painful it was for him to wait while you ogled at him. So you moved, kissing him softly as you lined yourself up and sank down.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, head falling back as his hands immediately found your waist. “You feel so fucking good.”

You moved to take him quickly but hissed in a breath at the stretch, pausing for just a moment.

“You okay baby?” The intensity was immediately replaced by concern in his voice as he gazed up at you.

“I’m fine. Just been too long since we’ve done this,” you explained, hands splaying on his chest as you eased yourself the rest of the way down, grinning as his eyes literally rolled back at the feeling.

“Damn right it was too long, fuck,” he echoed, hands squeezing tightly.

You folded down to kiss his neck, sucking gently as you started to rock ever so slightly, feeling him move so deeply that you could barely breathe. It was euphoric, skin on skin and tiny whimpers he tried to hide as you worked him up until he couldn’t take your pace any longer.

He wrapped his arms fully around your back, lifting up to meet your hips with each move, finding a blissful rhythm that had you both almost speechless.

“So good,” Joe managed to groan, lips on your shoulder as he snapped his hips in a way that had you suddenly seeing stars.

You pushed yourself up, fingernails digging into his chest as you found the perfect angle, bouncing and grinding until you saw his eyes fully squeeze shut and felt his back arch just barely - his tell.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.” His words jumbled together, hands wandering up your body in an almost frantic way, trying to find some way to stabilize as he tipped over the edge.

His hips stuttered and you couldn’t help but follow, another wave washing over you, the room spinning a bit as you came back down.

When you returned to your body, you were still breathing heavy, propped up on Joe’s chest as he looked up at you with a lazy, almost cocky grin.

The sex was always good, but something about that had made you almost want to hide your face.

“That was incredible,” he murmured, almost echoing your thoughts. “C’mere.”

You let him guide you down for another kiss, let him catch the breath you let out when he slid out, immediately shifting you, pulling you just as close with your legs straddling one thigh instead.

He kissed you slow this time, taking care to explore every part of your lips, your mouth, your cheeks and jawline and ear. It was blissful, and you would have been happy to stay in his arms like that forever; so it was no surprise that when he went to move, your automatic response was to cling to him.

“I’m just gonna get us a washcloth and some fresh clothes, I’ll be right back,” he reassured you, kissing you again before easing you off him and heading to the bathroom.

You watched him move around the room, bare ass on full display as he got up and headed to the bathroom. God. You would never get over how beautiful he truly was, you were sure.

It didn’t change when he came back to bed in his boxer briefs, a warm washcloth and a pair of panties for you from your suitcase in his hand.

“I wasn’t sure what shirt you wanted, I didn’t see any of your usuals in your bag.”

“I need to pee anyways,” you smiled, taking his offering and climbing out of bed.

Your knees wobbled, which wasn’t lost on Joe. You saw his satisfied grin when you looked back, and you blushed crimson as you headed to the bathroom.

You made quick work of cleaning up and brushing your teeth, opting for just the panties when you returned to bed.

“No shirt?” Joe mused as you climbed in next to him, curling up.

“Nah. Do you want me to wear one?”

He leaned back so you could see the absolute offense on his face.

“I just don’t want you to get cold, believe me this is much preferred,” he grinned, pulling you against his chest as if to prove his point. You knew you would be fine if you stayed on him all night, which was your plan.

You adjusted so you could see his face, smiling up at him. He traced lightly with his fingers over your back, cursive and shapes.

“I still can’t believe you’re here right now,” he mused.

“I heard you were cranky all week without me,” you teased.

“Damn straight. Turns out I can’t sleep anymore when you aren’t here.”

“I’m sorry baby,” you frowned. Of course you would spend as many nights as you could with him, but there were always nights you would be apart.

“Don’t be. Everything just feels better when you’re here. Seeing you when I came off stage, I felt like everything in me lit up and relaxed at the same time, it was crazy.”

“It took everything in me not to tell you. Especially when you text me before the show, I just wanted to run right to you.”

“Were you already there?” His eyebrows furrowed in the most adorable way, and you couldn’t help but kiss him quickly.

“I was next door in Nick’s dressing room,” you admitted, giggling at his look of betrayal.

“You little shit! Frankie helped you, didn’t he?!”

“Maybe. What did he say in your in ears anyways? To get you off stage?”

“He told me Malti was asking for me.”

“Well sorry to disappoint.” You grinned when he rolled his eyes, kissing your forehead. He tightened his grip on you, peppering more to your hair.

“Thank you, for coming out here early. It means the world to me.”

“Thank you for being worth coming out here for. 10 days was way too fucking long,” you yawned, the day catching up with you quickly as you settled in.

“Way too long,” he agreed. “Get some sleep my love. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you hummed. “Kiss me again.”

“What?” He chuckled, looking down at you. He was blurry as sleep tried to pull you under.

“Kissmeagain,” you slurred. “Justonemore.”

You weren’t even sure why you asked, but of course he obliged you, warm lips meeting yours before you drifted off in his arms, finally content.

—————————————————————————

damn this took me forever haha sorry I got carried away, pls let me know what you think (feedback is a writers fuel yah know) and feel free to request anything you wanna read!!

[supersquirrel1996]

I see them in a few days. Time for some delulu daydreams lol.

I could picture Joe being like this in real life. Such good writing. I like how you are able to paint the scene without being vulgar about it.

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter twenty-one | wc: 3k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia get caught having sex and Jolly suggests they find a place of their own

Reading time: 12mins aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: swearing, sexual content, p in v (unprotected), choking, praising, getting caught while at it, masturbation, use of a shower head for pleasure, sex jokes, lia being over protective of house plants, one mention of lia being neglected by her mom as a child

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

His fingers tightened around her throat. 

He thrust. Once. Twice. Watching her expression of pure bliss with rapt focus as she moved on top of him, head thrown back, lips parted, hair a mess. 

They were in Noah’s house, in the living room. Naked on the couch. Lia riding him. 

They’d had a quiet lunch alone because the boys had gone out. Noah and Lia had spent quality time together trying to cook chicken curry. After their cooking success, they had watched a movie, and as the hours passed, she’d found her way on top of Noah’s lap, her hand between their bodies pumping him until neither of them could hold back any longer. 

Now, she was close. He could feel it in the way her body trembled and how desperately she was clinging to him.

“Don’t stop. Ah! Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” he growled through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on her and one hand on her hip to help her up and down.  “I want to see you fall apart on my cock. Come on, Lia.”

Her orgasm hit. A scream built in her throat—

—and was cut off by the sound of the front door swinging open.

What happened in the next five seconds was chaos.

Four figures stumbled into the living room, laughter trailing, until all four sets of eyes locked on Lia, sat on top of Noah, and him, his hand around Lia's neck, both naked, on the sofa. 

Lia’s orgasm died mid-wave.  Her legs, once tight around Noah’s waist in ecstasy, locked even harder, now in panic. Her hands flew from Noah’s thighs to his shoulders, then to the back of his head in a split second, frantically pressing his face to her chest to cover her breasts, her chin on top of his head. Noah reacted just as fast—sitting upright, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pressing her to him.

“Oh, my—”

“For fuck’s sake! Cover yourselves, dammit!”

“Sorry, guys,” said Matt, taking his fist to his mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“Jesus Christ.”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Noah yelled. “You said you wouldn’t be back ‘til evening!”

“Plans changed, man!” Jolly shouted from the doorway. He was already spinning around, hands raised, gesturing for Nicholas to shut the door. The rest of the guys turned too, Matt and Bryan clearly finding the situation amusing. Both Lia and Noah’s face were turning red at the speed of light.

“How was I supposed to know you were planning to bang Lia on the couch?! If I had, I’d have done another lap around the block.” 

“Very funny,” Lia muttered, still clinging to Noah, her voice shaking with mortification. Still trying to shrink into him to disappear.  

Noah reached for a blanket at the end of the sofa and pulled it around her shoulders. She sat up, breaking the physical connection, his erection gone. He whispered for her to head to the bedroom, and she did, clutching the blanket tightly as she darted away, almost running.

 “Just my damn luck…” Noah sighed, grabbing a throw pillow to cover himself.

“I did not want to see that,” Nicholas said, eyes firmly on the wall.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t supposed to.”

“Knew you were into some kinky shit,” Bryan said with a smirk, peeking over his shoulder just long enough to mimic Noah’s earlier grip on Lia by gesturing to his own neck.

Noah glared and pointed at him. “Shut up,” he looked around for his clothes but he couldn’t find them. He gave up and headed for the bedroom to get dressed.  “Give us a minute.”

Matt called after him as he walked away, “A minute? Damn, dude. Give her more than that!”

“Fuck off, Matt!” Noah grumbled. He disappeared into the quiet hallway and slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Frustration followed him into the room, where Lia stood in the center wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, tugging at the hem. Her hair fell beautifully around her face and front. She was shifting on the balls of her feet.

“That was the most embarrassing moment of my life,” she mumbled.

“You don’t say,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He ran a hand through his hair, dropped the pillow, and took Lia’s hand as he passed her, dragging her with him toward the shower. 

He switched on the water and didn’t wait for Lia to undress again. 

Noah let the water sluice over him, his sudden tension loosening under the heat. The moment Lia stepped in beside him, she got his attention again. 

After months of waking up beside her, after nights where he’d memorized every sigh and gasp she made under his hands, there were still random, out-of-nowhere moments like this. Moments where it hit him all over again; that she was his. 

Lia stayed silent, her fingers trailing absently over her arms as she washed, her brows slightly pinched. He could read the tension in her shoulders. She was probably not upset about their interrupted moment on the couch. She was mortified that they’d been caught. 

Noah exhaled through his nose, watching as she tilted her head back, letting the water slick her hair away from her face. She still hadn’t noticed his stare.

He nudged her under the spray. She blinked up at him, and he took the opportunity to step aside, swapping places so the water rained over her instead.

“That wasn’t your most embarrassing moment.”

Lia’s hands stilled on her stomach. “Huh?”

Noah reached past her, unhooking the shower head from its mount. He twisted the dial, cycling through the spray settings: a gentle mist, then a pulsing massage, then a sharp jet. He tested each one with his hand. 

“For my thirteenth birthday,” he began, voice low with amusement, still half-focused on the water in his palm, “you came out from the bathroom during the party Grandma organized in the garden, and you didn’t realize you had toilet paper stuck in your shorts.”

Lia’s eyes widened.

“You were swirling around with a flower crown, saying you were a fairy.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “And the toilet paper waved behind you like some kind of sad flag. Everybody started laughing, and you just grinned, thinking they were happy to see you so full of joy.”

“Oh my God.” Lia’s hands flew to her face, but he could see the smile fighting through her fingers. “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

Noah used his free hand to push her wet hair back, off her shoulders, his fingers lingering at the nape of her neck. He casually crowded her against the tiles.

“Grandma had to pull you aside to tell you,” he continued, grinning now. “And then you bolted—back to the bathroom, then straight to my room. You hid under my comforter.”

Lia groaned, but her laughter bubbled up anyway. “And you came to convince me to go back down, but I refused. I missed you blowing out your candles.”

Noah’s thumb brushed her jaw. “I blew them again later. When we were alone. With that piece of cake I saved for you.”

The memory was so sweet and familiar. He hadn’t cared much for the party, in all honesty. He’d never liked the spectacle of birthdays. But he’d loved the quiet afterward with Lia, in his room. 

“I need to write that down in a noteboo—” Noah’s knee nudged between hers, forcing her legs apart. The shower head in his hand had been set to the sharp, concentrated spray. When the jet touched her thigh, it made Lia flinch. “What are you doing?”

Noah’s smirk was all sin. “Finishing you off.”

The spray traced a slow, searing path up her inner thigh, the pressure just shy of too much.

Until it was exactly where she needed it.

She gasped. Her hands flew to his biceps for support as her pulse leapt to her throat. 

The sensation was so sudden and electric that her back arched off the tiles, another gasp tumbling from her pink lips. 

Noah watched as her body reacted: the way her toes curled against the shower floor, the way her nails bit into his arms, the way her hips tilted, chasing the sensation, silently asking for more… 

“That’s my girl…” he whispered, praising her as she liked it. “Feels good?" he murmured, though he already knew the answer.

Lia’s head fell back against the wall, her breath coming in shallow hitches as she nodded. The water pulsed over her, relentless, and Noah adjusted the angle just slightly, just enough to make her moan louder. 

“Perfect,” he growled.

His free hand wrapped around himself, stroking in time with the rhythm of the shower’s assault on her. 

Watching her come undone was its own kind of pleasure. 

Thirty minutes later, Lia and Noah emerged from the bedroom, sated, composed, and clothed. Lia had put on a light green dress that fit her in a way Noah very much approved of. She looked cute, considering she’d been getting railed on the sofa and then in the shower mere minutes ago. The thought made him smile to himself as they crossed the hallway to the living room. 

They stepped into the living room and every head swiveled toward them. 

Bryan and Matt were on the couch, sat on the same spot where Lia had been riding Noah. They were grinning like idiots, making Noah roll his eyes.

Vultures.

Jolly and Nicholas were leaning against the kitchen counter, snacks in hand, their expressions caught between amusement and secondhand embarrassment. 

“Look at her,” Bryan drawled, diverting his eyes from the TV to look at Lia, “All dressed up and lovely.”

Matt snorted into the popcorn he was eating. Lia faked a smile and flipped them off. 

“C’mon, Lia. Give us the deets. Did he give you more than a minute?” Matt inquired. 

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Noah cut in, dropping onto the couch beside Matt with a glare. “Shut up and eat your popcorn. Pass the controller.”

Matt clutched his chest. “Harsh, man. Why so? What, she didn’t use that pretty mouth to—”

Noah stiffened. His eyes locked on him.

“Matt,” he said with a voice low and even, “you’re crossing a line now. Don’t piss me off.”

From the open kitchen, Lia exhaled, thanking him in silence. The guys could get carried away with their sex jokes, and while she was usually quick with a comeback, she wasn’t really feeling it now, after being caught in that vulnerable, intimate moment with Noah. It was nothing short of a miracle that she’d managed to orgasm in the shower, knowing they were just feet away in the living room, probably fully aware of what she and Noah were doing.

Her shoulders eased, and her features softened as she noticed Nicholas and Jolly weren’t piling on either. That small grace settled something in her. 

The next hour passed in a blur of tea sips, controller clicks, trash talk, and the occasional popcorn throw when Matt accused Bryan of cheating. Lia busied herself in the kitchen ostensibly helping Nick and Jolly reorganize the spice cabinet, listening to Jolly say: “It won’t take long. It’s mostly organized in alphabetical order,” only to prompt her to say: “In alphabetical order? That’s a myth in this house.” She shoved a jar of cumin behind the oregano as Nick agreed with her and laughed. 

By the time Jesse returned to the house in time for dinner, Bryan, Matt and Nick had already left. Noah was stretching on the sofa when Jesse dropped his keys on the counter, and Jolly was elbow-deep in the fridge, pulling out vegetables and ricotta cheese for dinner. 

“Hey, guys.”

“Right on time,” Jolly said, grabbing a beer can from the fridge and tossing it to him. Jesse caught it mid-air. “You’re the extra set of hands we needed to make dinner.”

“Oh, shit,” Jesse pulled a face of regret. “I should’ve walked in thirty minutes later.”

“No turning back now,” Jolly handed him an onion next. “Start chopping. Noah, you’re on sauté duty.” 

Without complaint, Noah got up and marched to the kitchen, only to have Lia walk past him in the opposite direction, clearly not thinking about cooking. He watched her go, glacing over his shoulder as she moved. 

“And where are you escaping to?”

“I’m just going to check the plants,” she replied. “I’ve already prepared the tray and set the first layer of noodles.”

“Valid.”

So, the three men got started on their respective duties. Jesse chopped the onion while Noah heated the oil in the pan. A couple of minutes later, while Noah was stirring the onion and the garlic, Jolly announced casually that Emery had gotten a promotion at work. 

“Yeah, Lia told me,” Noah said. “Congrats to her.”

“Thanks. Thing is…” Jolly hesitated. “We’ve been talking. Might be time to, y’know, move in together.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow as he rinsed the chopping board in the sink. “You? Domestic?”

Jolly tossed a kitchen rag at him. “Shut up. It’s not like it’s a surprise. It was going to happen eventually. And I was thinking, maybe might be a good idea for you and Lia, too. To find your own place. Just a thought.” After what just happened today. 

Noah’s eyes flickered to where Lia was, by the garden windows, crouched as she checked the soil of a fern next to the TV. The last light of the day caught the curve of her neck and the way her dress dipped slightly at the shoulder. He still had the sounds she’d made in the shower echoing in his mind.

He turned back to Jolly, stirring the onion and garlic continuously, and eyed him suspiciously. 

“I’m starting to think you’re onto something with this late adult-life advice.”

“Maybe he should start by sorting out his room,” Jesse added. 

“Says the one who washes his clothes once every month.”

“We’ve got time,” Noah interjected, steering the conversation away and trying not to give it too much thought. He still thought about putting a ring on Lia’s finger since Jolly had brought it up. Maybe Jolly should’ve started by suggesting that instead of marriage… because now Noah’d be caught up in the moving in and the proposing. “Besides, the studio is here.”

“And?” Jolly put a hand on his hip. He didn’t wait for Noah’s reply. “What’s the difference between living somewhere else and the time you spend at Lia’s? That’s not a problem. It’d be exactly the same. We also have a studio downtown. I know this house is practical, but did you expect to live here all your life? The three of us together?”

Noah reached for the bottle of oil to add a few more drops in the pan, his thoughts swirling.

“Well…”

“We could think about it,” Lia’s voice cut in. 

They turned to her, still crouched by the TV, now with dirt smudged on her fingers. Her expression was thoughtful but unguarded. Noah’s chest tightened at the ease in her tone. There was no panic whatsoever at the idea of leaving her apartment and finding a place to call their own. Something warm bloomed inside of him.

The hum of the refrigerator filled the silence that followed while Jesse looked for a specific sauce.

“Found it,” he shook the bottle to himself, closing the fridge door. “It’d make sense,” he added, to Lia and Noah. “You’re basically living together already, just split between the house and Lia’s apartment.”

Noah rubbed the back of his neck. 

Seeing the flicker of reluctance on his face and knowing it didn’t have anything to do with living with her permanently and more with the logistics and details that weighed on someone as organized as him, she reassured him.

“We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

“Of course not,” Jolly agreed. “Lia has her first exhibition coming up, right?

Lia’s eyes lit up at the mention. She rose to her feet. “Yeah.”

“That’s priority right now,” Jolly said, “but see, it’s just an example that things are moving, man. No more of the uncertainty and worries we had before.”

True. They had tons of work, good money coming in, they were happy, in better mental spaces… Not just him and Lia, but all of them.

“Why do you always sound like a self-help book lately?” Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, Noah turned to Jesse. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If we were to move out, could you manage this house on your own?”

“Hell no. I could probably find a small place nearby. Cheaper.”

Jesse caught in the way Lia and Jolly were also looking at him. 

“What? Are you worried about me? I’ll be fine. I’m used to being alone lately. You’re at Lia’s half the time,” he pointed at Noah then turned to Jolly, “and you’re always at Emery’s. I get more peace and quiet than I know what to do with.”

There was genuine lack of resentment in his expression as Noah studied him. Jesse had always been so self-sufficient. 

Lia, however, had doubts about it. Her eyes snapped to the wilted philodendron in the corner. Her eyes narrowed.

“Speaking of which. If you’ve had so much peace and quiet, would it have hurt to water the plants once in a while, Jesse?”

She moved over to examine the sad-looking plant in one of the shelves above the TV, its leaves curling at the edges.

“In my defense—”

“No defense,” Lia poked a finger into bone-dry soil. “With all that time alone, and you couldn’t remember them. Jesus, Jesse. Poor babies. You had one job.”

Noah bit back a laugh as Jesse squirmed under Lia’s glare. It was the same one she gave him whenever he accidentally left coffee rings on her working desk. 

Lia began an emergency plant triage, muttering something about ‘plant homicide’ under her breath as Noah’s attention returned to the pan and spatula in his hands. A moment later, his eyes locked on her again as she passed him with a handful of dehydrated greenery. Something sweet settled in his chest. This, her caring for the things that’d been neglected, was what she’d always done, but it was a constant reminder of the way she had fought to free herself from her mom’s claws—from the neglect she had suffered as a child. 

She wouldn’t let anyone else, not even a plant, feel like that. Ever. 

— previous chapter | chapter twenty-two

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I love this story!

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zutto — chapter twenty | wc: 5.2k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia try new things in the bedroom to help ease Lia's overthinking.

Reading time: 20mins aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: anxiety, insecurities, overthinking, slight mention of Lia's traumas and past, sexual content including getting a safe word, dirty talk (Noah's such a tease in this one), mentions of Lia's virginity, "good girl", bondage, blindfolding, dom/sub dynamics (implied switching), lots of kisses and soft touches, fingering, oral sex (Lia receiving), p in v (unprotected), recurrent mentions of fluids, Noah being super caring, lots of communication and consent. Let me know if I missed sth.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

It was the third time Noah had seen Lia pacing the entirety of her apartment since he’d made his afternoon coffee thirty minutes earlier. He watched her, his left eyebrow slightly raised. He was standing behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. He’d been checking what was in the fridge, thinking about what they could cook for dinner, until Lia’s pacing pulled his attention. 

He could feel the energy radiating from her, and it wasn’t good.

“Want to go out for a walk?”

She stopped abruptly in the doorway between the living room and the hallway that led to her room and the studio, turning her head toward him. She had her phone clutched in her hand. 

“What?”

“You’ve been pacing the apartment for the last thirty minutes, doing nothing but locking and unlocking your phone every ten seconds. I can feel your anxiety from a mile away.”

“They said they would call this morning,” she replied, her voice tinged with worry. It reminded Noah of the same voice and tone she would use as a kid, whenever she would fret over the flowers in the garden wilting. “To confirm if they want to exhibit my work in the gallery. It’s already past 4pm.”

She’d spent the entire week going from gallery to gallery, showing her artwork to strangers and asking if they’d consider giving it a chance, or at least letting her rent the space for a few weeks, maybe a month. Every gallery was booked until next year. Only one had shown some interest, saying they’d get back to her by Friday morning. They mentioned a small room they had reserved for independent artists. It would be available for booking in two months. But her art had to go through a review and had to be approved by a board. 

That was the call she was waiting for. 

Ever since she and Noah had talked about the idea of exhibiting her work, she’d thought the hardest part would be making the decision of sharing something more personal and intimate than the illustrations she did for Bad Omens to the public. Now she was realizing that the hardest part might be simply getting noticed and being valued. 

“Maybe they just got caught up with something and are late on schedule,” Noah said, finishing the last sip of his coffee and setting the mug down, pushing it to let it slide away on the counter. “You know how these things go.”

“I have a feeling they didn’t like them.” Her paintings. Her artwork. Her style. 

“That’s just your head talking.”

“Sometimes my head is right.”

And sometimes you are impossibly stubborn, Noah wanted to say.

He let out a breath and fixed his eyes on her, shoulders sinking, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. He reached for one of the tricks he knew would help to shut off her mind and silence the voices, if only for a little while. 

“Wanna have sex?”

Lia blinked, frowning. Her hand still gripped her phone tightly. She began to raise her arms and open her mouth, but Noah beat her to it. 

“To take the edge off,” he clarified. “No ulterior motives. I’m thinking about you, and I figure that might work better than going for a walk.”

“What if they call while we’re in the middle of it?”

Noah stood silently for a moment, eyebrows raised as he studied his girl. Then burst out laughing.  

Shaking his head, he rounded the bar island and took her hand, tugging her toward the hallway. 

“I’m serious, Noah,” she exclaimed, struggling to keep up with his long strides. 

“I’ll stop touching you and you can answer the call, if you’re that worried,” he replied casually.

Lia was stunned by his response and by how nonchalant he was being. And yet, as always, he got to her. Got under her skin. Made her smile despite herself. 

“Okay.”

“Good,” he concluded as they entered the bedroom. He released her hand, taking her iPhone from the other to leave it on the nightstand and motioning for her to sit on the bed. When she did, he stood before her, tall and steady. His hands cradled her cheeks and he tucked some hair behind her ears. “Breathe with me.”

She did. She matched her breath to his, pushing aside the thoughts doing her more harm than good. He closed his eyes and she followed, focusing on the rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his hands against her skin. 

Minutes passed, and by simply being with him like that, with all his attention on her, she started to feel the tension easing. She acknowledged her worries, where they came from. The anxiety that always painted a failing future… 

When she felt herself slipping again, she reached up and wrapped her fingers around Noah’s wrist. 

“Sex, please,” she murmured, eyes still closed. 

Noah let go of her face and stepped back. When their eyes met, his gaze was flicking between lust, concern, and something more. Insecurity?

“I was thinking if you’d be up to me tying you up while we do it. And blindfolding you. That way, your senses—your brain—,” he tapped his left temple, “would only focus on my touch and voice. Nothing else.”

A sharp inhale from her. After a moment, she exhaled, her shoulders falling. It took her a few seconds to answer. 

“Okay…”

But Noah wasn’t convinced. 

“You’re not sure,” he said softly, answering for her. 

“I am,” she replied quickly, her hands pressing into the mattress. She was only wearing cotton shorts and an oversized cozy sweater. “It’s just…”

“If you’re not ready, you can just say no. You know that.”

He would keep reminding her of that every single time, and she felt guilty that he had to. She wondered if Noah’s patience with her had a limit. She didn’t want to know.

“I’m ready,” she resolved, chin up.

But still, he wasn’t convinced by her tone. His thoughts were also piecing themselves together, and he tried to read her as he often did. Maybe now, he thought, she wasn’t worried about the gallery exhibit anymore.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Lia,” he stated, starting to shake his head. “Ever.”

“I know that,” it was her turn to reassure him. “And that’s not what I’m thinking.” Just like he could sometimes read her mind, she could sense what was going on in his. “It’s about… I need to know what’s going to happen.”

Oh. Noah frowned for a second, then understood what she meant, why she needed—or thought she needed—that control. But his plans for this moment were precisely to show her she didn’t need it. 

“No,” he said, “you don’t. Not with me.” 

He moved closer to her again and crouched down, taking her hands in his. His thumbs stroked the backs of them, slow. She was wearing the ring he’d taken from her vanity a few days ago when he went to Tiffany’s with Jolly. She hadn’t even noticed it was missing for hours. 

“Listen,” he began, hoping he could make her understand. “I know you need to have control over everything around you. I know why. And I’d never take that right away from you.”

As a child, she’d lived at the mercy of a woman who didn’t care about her. She’d been forced to stay on alert, to survive. That need for control—to be prepared for anything—had grown with her, sometimes weighing her down and making it hard to step beyond her comfort zone. Then Mitch had come and proven to her that she needed that control, that she needed to stay alert at all times because anything—anyone could hurt her.

“But when we’re in the bedroom,” Noah continued, “it’s just you and me, Lia. You trust me, right?”

Her nod was immediate. “More than anyone.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“That’s what this is about,” he went on. “I want you to let go of that control for a little while. I want you to relax and allow yourself to feel whatever I give you. You know it’s only going to be pleasure. I swear.” 

It wasn’t difficult to believe his words. There wasn’t a single part of her that doubted him. Still, she bit her lip, watching the way his tattooed thumb moved across the delicate skin of her hand.

“What if…” she raised her free hand to gesture at her head. “Something snaps?”

“Then we’ll stop. We’ll talk. I’ll comfort you.” His answer was quick. “It might take time for you to get used to all the new things we’re trying. And that’s okay. I’m learning too, baby. I just… I need to share this part of me with you. This dominant side. It’s part of who I am. And I hope you can accept it—I need you to.” He paused, took a breath. “That doesn’t mean I’ve got it all figured it out. I’m not saying I’ll lose control—never. That’s not what I mean.” The way he was shaking his head and the way his eyes worked to carry the weight of his words, was more than enough to make her understand. Lia was slowly starting to smile as he tried to explain himself. He was cute, even when talking about dominance. “I’m just making it clear that we’ve got time. All the time in the world. I’ll wait as long as you need. But I need to give you this part of me, and I need you to give me that part of yourself, too. You can’t keep controlling everything, Lia. And I’m only asking you to let go when you’re with me, here, where it’s safe.”

It made sense. Deep down, Lia knew he was right. She didn’t need any more reminders that nothing bad would happen to her with Noah by her side. They’d already come so far. 

She nodded, letting her free hand drift up to run her fingers through his hair.  

“Maybe we can just start with the blindfold,” he offered, relishing in the feel of her fingers scratching his scalp lovingly. “Leave the ropes for another time. Whenever you don’t feel comfortable, you can just take it off. What do you say?” 

Lia puffed out a breath, glancing around as if weighing invisible scales.  

“We can try both,” she said, surprising him. “I’m ready.”

“Yeah? You’re not saying that because you feel pressured by what I just said?”

“I’d tell you if I was. I know how to get my way around you if I need to, no matter how bossy you are.” 

Noah’s eyebrows shot up at her sudden boldness. 

“Okay then,” Noah stood up quickly. Lia’s hand slipped from his hair. “I’m getting the ropes, absolutely,” he added, mock-stern, as though ready to punish her for calling him bossy. 

His reaction made her laugh. 

He didn’t leave right away. Instead, he stood in front of her with his hands on his hips, then, because he couldn’t help it, he smoothed her hair with both palms before leaning down to kiss the crown of her head. 

“I want to please you,” she whispered. 

Noah stilled.

“I know If I focus on that,” Lia continued, “it’ll help me too.”

She got it. That it wasn’t just about bodies. It was about their trust, their wellbeing, their care for each other that would benefit both of them. 

“I promise you’re not going to regret this,” he moved toward the last drawer in the dressed by the window. He opened it and pulled out the blindfold and the ropes. “Would it help,” he asked, glancing back at her, “if we had a safe word?”

“Sure.”

“Think of anything.”

“Hmm…”

Lia sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, lips pursed. Her eyes drifted to the window, where the last streaks of afternoon light stretched across the floor, through the grey, thin curtains. She thought of anything that made her feel grounded, things that comforted her. Something that meant strength, not weakness. Reassuring. Something beautiful, something that didn’t mean ‘I can’t do this’, but ‘I just need to take a breath’.

“Ume.”

Noah looked over his shoulder. “Ume? Is that English?”

Lia snorted. “It means plum blossom in Japanese.”

“Oh, here comes my flower specialist,” he teased, walking back to her. He laid the silk blindfold and the ropes on the mattress next to her. “What’s up with plum blossoms?”

“They bloom in late winter, when it’s still cold and snowy, that’s why they are a symbol of quiet strength. They also mean grace and hope.” 

Noah’s smile softened as he understood why she chose that word—because in case she needed to use it, it wouldn’t mean failure, or that she was hurt, or a coward. It would mean that she was still being strong while acknowledging that she needed a stop, a break. 

“You’re adorable, you know that?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to be a little adorable before you get me naked and start whispering nasty things in my ear.”

Noah bit his lower lip, momentarily at a loss for what to do with this wonderful girl. 

He cupped her chin and brushed his mouth against hers. 

“I love you in a way that’s insane, Lia Parker.”

“Show me,” she replied, cheeky and sure. She pulled off her sweater. No bra underneath. 

Noah’s tongue flicked out against his lower lip as he caught sight of her breasts—that glint of metal in her nipple. She’d changed the piercing recently, wearing one with a blue flower on each end, each cradling a tiny diamond that caught the light every once in a while. He tried to keep his composure, but blood was already rushing downward. 

“Where do you want to do it?”

“One the bed,” Lia answered, sliding back to stretch herself out. She supported her weight on her forearms, her body relaxed but her eyes sharp. “I’ll feel more comfortable lying down.”

 “Good call. Any preference for how you want to be tied up?”

They’d had a few evenings experimenting with Shibari, both in the bedroom and in the studio floor, going over knots and studying patterns, tying and untying, sometimes in full focus mode, others laughing at how complicated and messy it could get as they sipped on coffee or tea.

She tried to recall the names of some of the designs but she couldn’t remember most of them. 

“I don’t know. I thought that would be up to you if you’re the one in control.”

“Not necessarily,” Noah explained. “Definitely not today. It’s your first time—and mine—, and you need to ease into it.”

“Okay,” Lia murmured, letting her back and head fall onto the pillows. She became more aware of her body, her skin tingling as she looked up toward the bed frame, the cold making the nipples hard, her own hair tickling her shoulders. “What about my hands tied to the headboard?”

“We can do that. It’s not much different from when I fuck you and hold them above your head.”

He was so unapologetic that she felt both stunned and wet. 

“And we can tie your ankles to the bedpost,” he added, too casually. 

Lia held his gaze, then looked away for a second. 

“I’ll be… very exposed,” she admitted, the image of herself naked and spread out flashing through her mind. 

“That’s the point. What worries you?” He asked, stretching the ropes and warming them up in his hands. 

“You will see me and…” she winced, “I might not look pretty opened up like that.”

Noah exaggerated his frown, offended on her behalf. 

“Did you just say you might not look pretty? Tied up? Opened up for me?

“I have insecurities, Noah.”

“So do I. I’m fucking Slenderman,” he said, looping the rope now between his fingers, “and yet, for some reason, you find me attractive.”

“Because you are. You’re hot. Like, really hot.” 

“And so are you. Even more when you’re naked. And tied up. And opened up only for me to see.” He got one knee on the bed, and then the other, positioning himself over her, caging her lower body beneath his. He moved until he was hovering on all fours over hers. “I can see it already… You have no idea how sexy you’re going to look.”

Lia didn’t respond, her mouth gone dry. The way he was looking at her would be enough to disarm anyone. She rubbed her thighs together, her hands gripping the sheets. 

“Give them to me,” he instructed when he noticed the goosebumps on her skin. 

She was good at obeying him. 

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No.”

“Okay.”

He tied her wrists with a smooth, practiced motion, forming soft cuffs before securing them to one of the headboard bars. He tied them low enough that her arms could rest on the pillow, but tight enough that she couldn’t move much. 

“Not too tight?”

“It’s perfect.”

“That one’s easy,” Noah replied. 

He got off the bed and took his t-shirt off, revealing his lean tattooed frame, and picked up the silky red band. Lia’s eyes followed his moves, knowing she would lose her sense of sight in a matter of seconds. 

“Lift your head.”

She did, and he slid the blindfold into place, knotting it gently at the back of her head. Darkness enveloped her, making her more aware of the sounds around her, the softness of the sheets, the warmth emanating from Noah’s body, his cologne, the way her own breath was quickening. 

Noah stood still for a while, just watching her. The way her nipples tightened. The way her feet flexed, toes brushing at the sheets. 

“Noah?”

“I’m here,” he answered, voice low. “Just watching you.” 

The pink in Lia’s cheeks spread down to her neck and chest. 

“Can you talk to me through it?” 

“Of course.” His voice turned gentler. He shifted closer and laid his palm flat on her stomach. “I’m going to take the rest of your clothes off now. Then I’ll tie each ankle to the posts, okay?”

Lia nodded.

“Use your words, Lia.” 

It was a command, she could tell by the tone he’d used, the severity of it. 

“Yes, that’s okay.”

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a shiver through her.

The way he removed her shorts and thong from her body made her skin erupt in goosebumps. He was slow, torturously so—each inch of fabric dragged down unhurriedly, making her hyper-aware of his fingertips brushing her thighs. As the clothes reached her knees, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, and she could swear he blew softly toward the bare skin between her legs. She wished she could see him, because she was sure he had a smirk plastered on his handsome face. 

A moment later, with all her clothes off, he tickled the base of her right foot. Lia wriggled on the bed and told him to stop. Both their laughs filled the room. 

With Lia naked now, Noah wrapped his fingers around her left ankle and lifted it off the bed. He slipped the rope around it. A minute later, it was secured to the bed post. Another minute after, and the other followed. And just like that, Lia was restrained, tied up to the bed, naked, blindfolded, and at his mercy. 

God, she was beautiful.

She was stunning like this. Vulnerable, yes, but also powerful. She had no idea. 

Noah exhaled, then removed his sweatpants, leaving only his boxers. 

“I’m going to start touching you now,” he indicated. “Focus on that. Just my touch.”

“Alright.”

He began with her hair, brushing strands away from her shoulders with soft fingers, careful not to make contact with anything more. Then his lips met the graceful curve of her shoulder, where he peppered kisses right to left and back until he moved to the hollow of her collarbone. Then he kissed her face—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips. She felt him smiling against her mouth and of course, she smiled back. 

It felt so nice. 

Lia wasn’t sure if she’d said the words aloud or only thought them, but Noah seemed to catch them either way. 

When the contact stopped for a moment, her body ached in the absence. 

And then, wet heat. His tongue on her pierced nipple, flicking and swirling. Her breath hitched, back arching off the bed, but she was caught, restrained. He switched to the other breast, then back again, his tongue playful and reverent all at once. 

His fingers slid down, tracing the edge of her hip, then lower, brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She instinctively tried to angle herself closer to him, to guide him where she wanted him, but the ropes reminded her she wasn’t in charge. 

“You know…” Noah began, using his tongue every two words as he moved up to lap or trace a lazy circle around her nipples, “I could spend the entire evening doing this. Touching you. Playing with you. Edging you. I would touch myself while I touch you, and I would come at the sound of you begging me to let you come.” 

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is having to deal with other responsibilities when all I want is to stay here all day with you, making music out of the sounds you make when I touch you.”

Lia was burning. But the smile on her face spread wider than the heat consuming her. Noah saw it, felt it, and prided himself in the fact that his plan was working. 

The mattress dipped as he shifted to get on top of her, keeping his knees at each side of her, then bending down to worship her stomach with his mouth while his hands—his thumbs, brushed her face, her cheeks. His lips mapped the inked patterns on her skin, trailed lower to her navel, then toward the dark, soft curls between her legs. 

“Bet teenage-you never thought we would be doing this, that I’d be going down on you while I had you tied up.”

Lia’s response was a moan. 

“I thought about taking your virginity a few times,” he admitted, licking at the flowers on her thigh, “but I pushed those thoughts aside because you were my best friend, I was supposed to take care of you, and you were still underage. But I should have done it. I should have waited and then do it, take you, make you mine from the very beginning.”

She wanted to tell him that she’d been his from the beginning. Sex had nothing to do with it. She’d belonged to him the moment he offered to let her ride his bicycle, showing her a kind of selfless love and care that she’d never been given before. 

But she was unable to form words at that moment.

“Hmm…” he nibbled at her hipbones making her squirm and moan his name. “Yes, baby? What do you want?” He was teasing her and she knew it.  His voice—the tone he was using, was dangerous and addictive.

“You,” she breathed. 

“Me? Which part of me?” The question reached her as his fingers sketched slow, maddening shapes along her inner thigh, so, so close to her center.  

“My mouth, my fingers, or my cock?” 

As if to emphasize his question, Noah licked her from hipbone to breast at the same time that his thumb brushed over her clit and his cock grinded against her thigh. 

A whimper was her response. Noah had to contain a devilish growl. 

“I fucking love the sounds you make when I touch you.” 

“Fingers,” she said, her chest rising and falling fast, “then mouth, on my clit.” 

Noah raised his eyebrows even though she couldn’t see. He felt amused and turned on.

“A bit demanding, don’t you think?”

She ignored him.

“And when you’re done making me come… your cock.”

He let out a low, appreciative laugh.

“Such a greedy girl,” his fingers dragged up the inside of her thigh, “wanting me to make her come not once, but twice.”

But even then, he wanted nothing more than to please her. Give her everything. And he also had to admit he liked it when she was demanding, like the time she’d been riding him and, when he’d tried to sit up, she’d pushed him down and told him not to move. She’d ridden him so sensually, with such a tilt and wriggle of her hips, her teeth scraping her lower lip and her eyes on him, with that soft hair cascading around her, that even though he’d propped a pillow behind his head to get comfortable and enjoy the show, he came a couple of minutes later.

He pushed two fingers inside of her, stretching her so deliciously. As he started to pump them in and out, curving them just right, and her mouth fell open in a silent moan, he latched his lips around her nipple, and flicked at it with his tongue for a while, working her up cruelly slow, making her arch, gasp and moan while the ropes held her still and every sensation was made sharper and more overwhelming, until he couldn’t hold his own need to taste her anymore and he slid of the bed, getting on his knees and using fingers and mouth on her pussy, eyeing her every chance he got to devour the sight of her bound and trembling. 

His fingers stayed inside her, slow and steady, as his tongue found her clit. The first touch made her hips jerk, a soft cry escaping her lips. He flicked, then flattened his tongue, then circled it around her, learning her all over again. He read every twitch, every sound, and worked to build her toward the edge.

The taste of her, the sound of her falling apart under his mouth…

But it was more than the physicality of it all. It always was more. 

Having her like that, knowing she wanted to be—helpless and surrendered, trusting him entirely—thrilled him. The way she moaned his name, breathless and desperate, asking for more more more; the way her hips arched off the bed and into his face, writhing, almost trying to ride his mouth… It was filthy. 

God, it was perfect. 

His lips and chin were slick with her. Her taste mixed with his saliva as it ran down his jaw and wet her thighs. 

Jesus, he was going to come. 

And then, out of nowhere, he pictured Lia, wide-eyed and teary, looking down at the diamond ring he was offering in his hand, saying yes. 

A wave of pleasure surged through him, too fast to stop. Even though he clenched his jaw and tried to hold back, he felt some of his release, dampening the front of his boxers. 

Fuck. What am I? A teenager?

He pulled away, his breath uneven, slipping his fingers from inside her. Lia’s thighs were trembling. 

He’d been two seconds away from asking her if she would marry him, not as in proposing, but a straight-forward question uttered with his head between his legs because he now realized he wanted her as his wife desperately. And more than that, he wanted to be her husband.  

But that wasn’t the time. He’d brought her to bed to quiet the storm in her head, not restart it with something else; not to send her spiraling back to the anxiety she’d been wrapped in only half an hour ago. 

So, instead, he rose to his feet, ran both hands through his hair to shove it out of his face, and wiped his mouth with the back of one wrist, catching the glimmer of her wetness still on his skin. 

“Why did you stop? I was so close.”

“Give me a sec. Fucking hell. I nearly came in my boxers.”

Lia would’ve laughed hadn’t she been so desperate for an orgasm. She still couldn’t grasp her head around the fact that she did this to Noah, that she turned him into such a mess. 

He stripped his boxers off, finally baring himself. Then crawled back onto the bed, covering her body with his.

“I’m going to fuck you now, baby” he said against her lips, kissing her after, slow and deep and pressing his tongue against hers. 

Lia chased his mouth when he pulled back, desperate for more, more of the taste of herself on his tongue, more of him, of anything she could hold onto. 

“Though I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he confessed, breath catching as his hips pressed closer. “You make me feel like a goddamn fifteen-year-old every time.” 

“I don’t care,” she said, voice sweet despite her need, her hips lifting to meet his. “You always fuck me so good.”

That tone, those words… She was exactly where he wanted her: in that soft, needy, mindless headspace. He grinned, despite the ache pulsing through his cock, the head already rubbing against the inside of her thigh. 

“Is that right?”, he drawled, teasing himself along her slick folds. “I always fuck you good?”

“So good,” she gasped, pulling at the ropes keeping her wrists tied at the headboard. Her hips kept lifting for more friction, trying to pull him in. His chest pressed against her breasts, and he felt the cool kiss of her piercing like a flick of ice.

“Maybe it’s cause you’re such a good girl,” he said, voice a gravelly hum, “and good girls,” he took hold of his cock and got it in position, pushing only one inch in, “deserve to be fucked so, so good.”

As another inch found her, he stilled and lifted one hand to cradle her cheek. His thumb brushed her lips, then slid between them until her teeth caught it gently, the way he liked. 

And then he was fully inside her, his moan of pleasure filling the room. There was a shared breath of bliss. Lia’s hips ached at the stretch of Noah’s body getting comfortable on top of her, and so did her insides. She bit down harder on his thumb as her body shifted under the weight of his. The feel of his full body was nearly as delicious as the feel of his hard cock inside of her. The sensation of being filled and pinned and possessed unrivalled.

He felt so good; so hot, so thick, pulsing deep inside her. She felt claimed in the best possible way. 

Noah missed her touch. Even though he had her underneath—wrapped around him—and she was at his mercy, he had to admit he missed the feel of her arms around him, or the way she would wrap her legs around his waist and dig her heels into his butt whenever they were in missionary position. 

But most of all, he missed looking into her big, beautiful eyes when he was buried inside her.

He pulled out and pushed back in slowly, watching the way a small breath escaped her lips. He slid his thumb from between her teeth and moved his hand upward, pushing the blindfold back onto her forehead. Lia blinked against the light, her eyes finding his a second later.  

“Hi,” he whispered. 

“Hi,” she smiled. 

“I was missing those eyes,” he told her, his movements very, very slow. Barely there. One hand on her hip, the other brushing her cheekbone with his knuckles. “Look at me while I fuck you, yeah?” 

She nodded, and as soon as she did, she corrected herself, whispering a sweet “yes, Noah”. She didn’t want to look anywhere else, because nowhere else—no one else—would ever make her feel so adored and so loved, just by the way they looked at her.

When a minute passed and he was still just looking into the ocean of her eyes barely moving, only pulsing inside of her, Lia was about to start pleading for him to move, to rub her clit, to thrust, to do something—anything. 

A sound shattered the moment. Her phone started ringing and vibrating loudly on the nightstand, pulling both their attention toward it.

— previous chapter | chapter twenty one 🌶️

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred | @tf-is-aesthetic | @pastelsswirlvangogh

[supersquirrel1996]

Of course she gets the call at that moment!

Gosh, I love how connected they are. I love the way they communicate.

I can't wait for him to propose

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter nineteen | wc: 1.6k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah accompanies Jolly to look at engagement rings.

Reading time: 6mins

Tags and trigger warnings:  swearing, slightly jealous noah, light references to noah and lia's childhood and abusive past, no lia in this one

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Earth to Noah. Helloooo!” Folio waved a hand in front of Noah, who was slouched on the studio sofa—legs spread, arms hanging from his thighs, shoulders slumped, his gaze distant.  

“Man, you need coffee. Like, right now.” Matt interjected, shaking his head. 

Noah straightened up and ran a hand down his face. He wasn’t tired, didn’t look exhausted. In fact, he was feeling great. 

He was just... distracted.

“Sorry. My head’s somewhere else,” he admitted. 

Yeah, it was on a certain pretty girl with big brown eyes dressed in a kitty costume, wearing the cutest ears, a choker, and a fluffy tail. 

Folio lifted his brows with weariness, then made his way to the back of the studio where his drum kit was, saying nothing.

“Where, exactly?” Matt asked. “It should be right here. Sumerian gave us a deadline for the new album.”

“Yeah, well aware,” Noah replied, getting back into focus. It’s—” He stretched his eyes and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands raking through his hair. “Lia wore this damn kitty costume the other night, and I can’t get her out of my head since then.”

“The kitty costume? Oh, boy. About damn time!” Matt exclaimed, while the others, previously occupied, now glanced over with curiosity. 

Noah lifted his head, eyebrows raised, his attention sharpening as he frowned at Matt. 

“About damn time?” he repeated. “You knew about it?”

“I told her to get it. Knew she’d look fucking amazing in it.” Matt smirked. “Now it makes sense why you’re zoning o—”

Before he could finish, Noah was on his feet, closing the distance, shoulders square, all six-foot-three of him looming. 

“You better not be picturing her in that. I swear to God, Matt. If you even think about her in any way that’s not—” 

“Okay, dude. Chill.” He held up a placating hand. “I get it. She’s all yours.” He rolled his eyes skyward like Noah’s attitude was beyond him. “Can we focus now?”

“Yeah. We can.” Noah deadpanned, striding toward the sound desk, shoving Lia to the back of his mind—at least until he got home that evening. 

Jolly, busy at the sound desk, had been smirking through the whole exchange. Now, his expression shifted back to work mode. 

“You still on for later?” He muttered to Noah. 

“Sure.”

Two hours later, Jolly and Noah stood inside Tiffany’s, and to say they felt out of place was an understatement. 

The security guard at the entrance had eyed them skeptically as they stepped in, and a few heads turned at the sight of two tall, tattooed men dressed head-to-toe in black entering the shop. 

The inside of Tiffany’s was all gleaming glass and soft lighting. It was the kind of place that made Noah feel utterly incongruous. If Jolly felt the same, he didn’t show it. He strode toward one of the desks at the back and caught the attention of a shopkeeper in her late fifties, dressed in an immaculate, expensive suit with a crisp white button-up underneath. Jolly’s usual bravado had softened into something resembling patience as he explained his plans to propose, gesturing at different rings in the display case. 

Noah lingered at his side for a while, half-listening to Jolly’s demands and the woman’s polite suggestions. Eventually, he drifted away, wandering toward another section to examine other rings and jewelry. He studied them as if they were foreign artifacts. He owned rings, yes—expensive ones, even—but this was different. These pieces, polished and elegant, resting on velvet-lined trays like the most precious things in the world, carried a weight he’d never considered. If he ever bought one, it wouldn’t be for himself. 

It would be for Lia.

The thoughts flooded his mind as his fingers traced the outline of the ring tucked in his pocket. 

Frowning at the endless rows of rings, he tried to picture Lia’s reaction to any of them. She’d probably scoff at anything too flashy or oversized, and she might be disappointed if he chose something simple and traditional. 

What the hell am I even looking for?

But at the same time, the idea of Lia accepting a ring—the ring— and everything it would entail sent a quiet warmth through his chest. 

“May I help you?”

Noah turned to find another saleswoman watching him, this one younger than the one attending to Jolly, her expression professionally polite, though her gaze flicked briefly to the ink peeking out from his sleeves.

For a second, he almost said no. This wasn’t something he’d planned. But then Jolly’s voice carried over from the other side of the shop, low and serious, determined to propose—and to become a husband the moment Emery said yes—and something in Noah’s ribs tightened.

“Um… Yeah, I suppose so,” he said, voice rougher than he’d intended. 

He hesitated, then pulled Lia’s ring from his pocket, a small and slightly tarnished one he had found on her vanity that morning. “This is my girlfriend’s,” he explained, showing the ring to the woman. “Is it possible to get a ring of this same size?”

She looked at him as if the question was absurd. “Yes, of course we can,” she replied. “Do you know what you’re looking for? A gift? An engagement ring?”

Noah swallowed. 

“An engagement one, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I mean—shit,” he cursed under his breath, suddenly overheating. Clearing his throat, he gestured vaguely around the shop. “Just weighing options. But yeah, an engagement ring. Can you customize it?” 

“Yes, we can. We could craft something inspired by this,” she said, nodding at Lia’s ring still pinched between Noah’s thumb and forefinger. “Or design something entirely new based on your ideas. Did you have a specific style in mind? Type of stone?”  

“Not yet,” he admitted. 

“That’s all right,” she said with an understanding smile. “There’s no rush. It’s important to be certain.”

And he was certain, he realized in that moment. He’d marry Lia in a heartbeat. But as the realization settle inside of him, he also came to see that wasn’t the problem. The problem was her. 

Did she want to get married? 

Did she want to marry him?

Of course, the voice in his head scoffed. Noah was sure of Lia’s feelings for him—her love. However, she’d never said anything about marriage. She’d been thrilled when she found out about Jolly’s plans to propose to Emery, but did she want to become a wife? Marriage wasn’t the default anymore. Plenty of couples stayed together, had kids, without legal binds. What if that’s what Lia preferred? What if he proposed… and she said no?

The idea of Lia looking up at him, wide-eyed and startled, and then rejecting marrying him…

The image hit him like a punch. 

Noah’s shoulder slumped under the weight of the thought. He tucked the ring back into his pocket, where it sat like a half-formed promise.  

“Thanks. I need to… think on it.”

The woman nodded, stepping away and leaving him to browse, but Noah wasn’t seeing the rings anymore. He wasn’t even seeing Lia dressed in a kitty costume waiting for him in bed, the image that had been in his mind all day and the day prior. 

To shake himself off the sudden dread, he stalked back to Jolly, ready to drag him out or admit being there was suffocating him. 

In opposition to him, Jolly was fully engrossed, scowling at a glittering array of diamonds under the glass display. He barely glanced up when Noah sidled next to him. 

“Hey,” Jolly muttered, eyes still scanning. “What do you think of these? Too much? Too flashy?”

Noah stared at the sparkling rows and thought, I should’ve brought Lia. She’d know what the hell to say to Jolly’s questions, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this spiral of hypothetical rejections.

“Dunno,” Noah admitted, his hands into his pockets. “You’re the one proposing, not me.”

Jolly lifted his head and shot him a look.

“Thank God I decided to ask you to tag along for help,” he retorted, tone dripping irony.

The shopkeeper offered Noah a sympathetic smile.  

“Sorry,” Noah mumbled. “I’m kinda distracted.”

“Still thinking about Lia?”

“Yeah, but not like that,” he replied, knowing he was referring to the kitty costume. “I’m thinking… if I propose to her and she doesn’t want to get married.” His voice was low and calculated. The woman behind the counter clearly heard him, but she wisely kept her distance.  

“You haven’t talked to her about it yet?”

Noah shook his head. 

“Then maybe you should,” Jolly replied as a matter of fact. “I’m telling you: communication will clear all these doubts, man.” 

“But—” Noah hesitated, almost biting his lip.

Jolly gave him his full attention then.

“What?”

“If I propose, I want it to be a surprise. I don’t want to ask her, ‘Hey, babe, would you like to get married?’ Only for her to spend the following weeks waiting for me to drop to one knee.”

“You’re such a romantic, Jesus Christ,” Jolly shook his head with a smile. “Look, you’re giving it too much thought. You don’t have to sit her down to talk specifically about this. Just slip it into conversation, make it feel casual, random, and you can still make it unexpected and romantic when you decide to get down on one knee. Besides, now you’ve got me and Emery as an excuse to bring up the topic.” He nudged Noah’s shoulder.

Jolly had a point. Hell, he was right. It made sense. Still, there was a feeling of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. Jolly and Emery hadn’t had the kind of journey he and Lia had had—the shared childhood, the rollercoaster of highs and lows, the very real fear of losing each other in more than one way, more than once.

As they exited Tiffany’s that evening—Jolly with a budget, a handful of brochures, and fifty photos of different rings and gems on his phone—, Noah decided that the only way to quiet his unrest was to actually take Jolly’s advice and find out Lia’s thoughts on marriage. 

— prev. chapter | chapter twenty 🌶️

Thank you all for your patience <3 and I'm sorry if the chapter is too short. I'm halfway done drafting the next one, and it will definitely be longer, so perhaps it will be up next week! 🥰

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred | @tf-is-aesthetic | @pastelsswirlvangogh

[supersquirrel1996]

Awe! I'm so happy for Jolly and Emery. They are so cute.

Lia would say yes Noah.

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter eighteen | wc: 5.8k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia finally shows the kitty costume to Noah and something inside him snaps.

Reading time: about 30mins

Tags and trigger warnings:  pure self-indulgent kinky smut, dirty talk, oral sex (lia receiving), fingering, choking, use of a faux-fur tail for sexual purposes, p in v (protected and unprotected), recurrent mentions of fluids, pet names (baby, good girl, kitten).

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Lia had just ended a video call with Folio when she rose from the couch and padded toward the study at the end of her apartment, where Noah had been holed up for hours.

She stepped inside quietly, but she knew he’d already sensed her. With his back still to her, she slid her hands onto his shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze before letting her palms glide down his chest as she leaned in. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she pressed a slow kiss against his neck.

Noah reacted instantly, tilting his head to the side to give her more access.

“Hmm...”

One of his hands reached up, fingers threading through her hair as she trailed soft kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Aren’t you tired from being cooped up in here all day?” she murmured. “You only came out for dinner.”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he admitted.

Lia pulled back just as Noah stretched, arms reaching high. Something cracked, and he let out a deep, satisfied groan. She paid no mind, hesitating for only a second before saying what had been on her mind for hours. 

“I want to thank you for the other night,” she said, her hand settling back on his shoulder.

The other night, when he’d tied her up in such a gentle, tender way, and he had asked her to breath with him, to share his energy, making her feel so cherished, so safe, so loved. 

Noah turned his head slightly, his eyes sharp and attentive.

Lia wet her lips. “Can you come to the bedroom in ten minutes? I have a surprise for you.”

He straightened in his seat, turning the chair completely to face her. “A surprise?”

“Yeah.”

His lips quirked as his mind put the pieces together. “Does this have anything to do with whatever you were hiding in your luggage in Tokyo?”

“Aha,” she confirmed. “And…” she swayed her hips side to side lightly as a smirk appeared on her face, “with that wet dream I had at Grandma’s.” 

Noah’s lips parted. His breath hitched before he quickly grabbed his phone, tapped on the screen, and read the time. 8.50pm. 

“Ten minutes,” he repeated. “I’m counting.”

Lia giggled and practically skipped out of the study. Once inside her room, she grabbed everything she needed before heading straight to the bathroom, closing the door with a quiet click.

She hung the costume bag on the hook behind the door and placed her hands on the cool countertop. One steadying breath. Nerves were thrumming beneath her skin and her cheeks were already flushed.

She exhaled slowly, then tugged her sweater over her head and tossed it onto the closed toilet lid. One by one, she took her clothes off, leaving a small pile behind as she stripped bare.

From the bag, she took out the bodysuit first. The sight of it pulled her back to Japan momentarily. The piece was soft pink and was adorned with delicate floral embroidery that wove across the sheer material. Between the cups, there were three heart-shaped charms that connected the material, catching the light with a sparkle. At the waist, a tiny skirt made of white lace flowed nicely. She’d tried it on before, never quite deciding when the right moment would be to show it to Noah. Every time she slipped it over her body, she felt ethereal, almost otherworldly. Like a fairy. 

Tonight, she was finally decided.

Smiling to herself, she stepped into the bodysuit, adjusting the straps and settling her curves into place. The way it hugged her body made her feel both feminine and powerful, every dip and contour accentuated.

She let down her hair, brushing through the waves until they cascaded perfectly over her chest, framing her collarbones like silk. She applied light dusting of shimmer on her shoulders and décolletage. Then turned to retrieve the rest of items from the bag. 

The choker.

The kitty ears.

And the tail.

She picked up the choker first, the smooth pink leather feeling cool between her fingers. As she fastened it around her neck, something in her prickled at the thought of Noah’s hand there instead, his fingers pressing just enough to make her whimper. She had to shake herself off her thoughts before they consumed her entirely and she had to call Noah to see her right there in the bathroom. 

Next, she picked the ears. They were fluffy, white, and looked perfectly cute perched atop her head. The band disappeared beneath her brown waves. She studied herself in the mirror and smirked at the contrast between innocence and seduction.

Finally, she reached for the tail. She relished in the soft fur for a moment before examining the strap that would secure the piece to the back of the bodysuit. She looped it through a discreet attachment and tightened it just enough to keep it in place. The weight of it was barely there, but it added to the illusion as she gave a playful shake of her hips, and the tail wiggled. She nearly laughed at how ridiculously adorable it was. 

Last came the heels, pastel pink with thin straps that wound around her ankles. She’d spotted them in a shop window days ago and instantly knew they would go with the outfit. She had swiped her card and brought them home, tucking them away at the back of the wardrobe, making sure Noah wouldn’t find them. She stepped into them and secured the straps. When she tested the balance, confidence settled over her like a second skin. 

She took one final look at her in the mirror, biting her lip.

She looked hot as fuck and she knew it. 

With a deep breath, she turned, opened the door, and padded toward the bedroom. 

Exactly ten minutes after he’d told her he started counting, Noah stepped into the bedroom, only to have the air taken from his lungs. 

Lia stood in the middle of the room, bathed in the soft light coming from the lamps on the nightstands, looking like something out of his wildest, most indulgent fantasies. 

She was wearing a pink lace bodysuit which hugged her body in all the right places, the sheer fabric of it teasing at what lay beneath and the delicate floral embroidery that decorated the piece climbing over her curves like a promise. 

But that wasn’t all. Not even by far. 

A skirt of white lace cascaded softly from her waist, flowing just enough to add an angelic contrast to the sensual piece. On her feet, dainty baby pink heels elevated her stance, making her appear both sexy and impossibly adorable.

Then, there were the things that made Noah’s throat go completely dry.

Atop her head were fluffy cat ears, and a matching tail peeked from behind her, swaying slightly with every movement. And, oh God, around her neck there was a choker, snug and delicate, as if it’d been made just for her. 

Fuck. 

Something feral clawed through his chest.

Lia’s expression was a contradiction—sweet, shy, but underneath that, pure seduction. Her lips curled in a smile, as if daring him to step closer, to claim her, to pet his obedient little kitten.

Noah’s fingers tightened around the door handle, knuckles going white. He was in shock, completely frozen. This was a dream. A sinful, delicious, utterly irresistible dream.

The moment he saw her his world had narrowed to one thing.

Her.

He was utterly, hopelessly wrecked.

Noah barely remembered how to breathe, but the way his cock twitched—how fast it hardened that it was almost painful, proved that he was very much alive and feeling every single thing that the tiny provocative costume was expected to make him feel.

He was overtaken by this sudden urge to pin her to the bed and fuck her so good that she’d never forget who she belonged to. Never forget how good he could make her feel. Never forget this night. 

But then he caught the way she was looking at him—her cheeks tinged pink, her eyes full of anticipation, of trust. She had done this for him. She had planned, put in the effort, considered every little detail just to surprise him, to thank him.

So, instead of giving in to the raw hunger pulsing through him, he swallowed it down. He would take his time and he would appreciate her—worship her. He would tease her and savor her. Give her what she wanted. 

“Fuck me,” he uttered when he snapped back, very low, so low she barely heard it as his eyes raked over her, from head to toe. 

Lia extended her hand, inviting him to get closer. He reached for her hand.

“Jesus, Lia.” It seemed he wasn’t able to say much more. He didn’t know where to place his eyes. He didn’t want to miss a thing, a detail. “Turn around?”

She did, moving slowly, deliberately, giving him the full view of her ass hugged perfectly by the sheer bodysuit and… that wagging fluffy tail. 

“You’re kidding me,” he muttered.

Over her shoulder, she shot him a teasing glance. His hands twitched with the need to grab her, but he held himself back, enjoying the sweet torture of watching her move.

A few moments and Lia turned back. Closing the distance, she pressed her chest against his, and tilted her head back to look him in the eye. 

“I’m yours to do as you please,” she whispered.

Noah let out a low, amused hum. “Are you?”

She nodded. He brought his knuckles to her cheek, sliding them down, reveling in her softness.

“I’m the luckiest bastard in the planet, aren’t I?”

And then, because he couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. His lips crashed into hers, and he let himself get lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, the way she melted against him like she had been waiting for this moment just as badly as he had.

Then, with a firm push, he guided her to the bed.

“Sit.”

She obeyed instantly; her eyes locked onto his. He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands moving to her ankles as he removed her heels, one by one. He lifted one foot to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of it, then to the inside of her ankle. He did the same with the other.

Standing back up, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“You don’t need heels,” he said. “I love how small you are.”

“I’m not small. You’re the—”

He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. 

“Mine to do as I please.”

A visible shiver ran down her spine, and Noah swore he could feel the way her stomach fluttered just from his words.

He kissed her again, slower this time, dragging it out, deepening it until he felt her knees tremble. His tongue invaded her mouth and, she let hers play a tango with it. His hand roamed down her body, from her breasts to the dip of her waist, sliding over the curve of her ass before gripping her, pulling her flush against his aching length.

Lia gasped into his mouth, and Noah swallowed the sound and his own moans as Lia felt his cock, palming it and caressing it through the layer of clothing, knowing this was only the beginning.

He was going to take his sweet time with her tonight.

And by the end of it, she’d probably be so spent she wouldn’t even remember her name.

Noah sat on the bed and wasted no time pulling Lia astride his lap. His hands were on her in an instant—one gripping a fistful of her hair (careful with the kitty ears), tilting her face down to his, the other grasping her ass. Her cat tail dangled between his legs as she kissed him back, fingers threading through his soft locks as she played with his tongue.  

It started fast. She knew it would. The effect of her surprise was written all over him.

One moment, Noah’s lips were on her mouth, the next they were all over her face, everywhere. Cheeks, jaw, neck. He kissed her lower, touch trailing down to her clavicle, his breath warm against her skin.

“I can never get tired of how fucking sweet you smell, Lia.” 

His fingers hooked the strap of her bodysuit and pushed it down, baring her breast. The cold air hit her, but it lasted only a second before the heat of his mouth replaced it. He licked, sucked, toyed with her piercing, tugging at it with his teeth. A moan vibrated against her nipple, sending a wave of pleasure. Lia arched into him, her hands cradling his head, begging for more, encouraging him to give her more. Everything. 

He didn’t have enough with one, so he lavished her other breast, too. His shirt was discarded soon, and then, with no warning, he flipped her onto the mattress, pining her down beneath him. 

“Give me your wrists.” 

She obeyed. Her breath caught as he placed them above her head, his grasp a lock. 

“I want to rip this off you,” he admitted, voice dark with need as his sweats rubbed against her bare thighs.  “But I want to fuck you in it, too.” 

His eyes flicked up, locking onto hers for a beat. 

He ran a finger under the band at her throat.

He wanted her in such a way it could kill him.

“There’s no chance those ears and this choker are coming off, though.” 

At those words, Lia’s pulse stuttered, and for a second she was back in Japan.

Only for a second. 

Noah’s hands and lips dragged her back into the present, into the heat. 

“Tell me there’s a way to undo this from the bottom,” he said, referring to the bodysuit.

Instead of answering, Lia arched her hips, parting her legs just enough for him to see. 

He did see, but his attention snagged on something else. 

The tail. 

His gaze was so clouded, so thick with intensity… The way he was looking at every part of her stole the breath from her lungs. 

He let go of her wrists. 

“Can it come off?” his voice was hoarse when he asked about the tail. 

“Yeah.”

He flipped Lia onto her stomach, his fingers working quickly to detach the tail from the bodysuit. Then he guided her back to the previous position, her back against the mattress. 

She couldn’t look away from his hand—the one still holding the tail. She had expected him to toss it aside, but instead, he kept hold of it. His other hand slid to the clasps between her legs and unfastened them. He pushed the bodysuit up, bunching it above her navel, baring her. 

He didn’t pay attention to her pussy, not yet. He climbed up her body first, claiming her mouth in a kiss that stole her breath, her thoughts, her sanity. 

And then—

She felt it. A whisper of sensation.

Soft. Teasing. 

Brushing between her legs. 

Lia moaned. Part surprise, part pleasure. 

She found herself staring into Noah’s smirking face. A smirk that trembled slightly, as if he was enjoying this just as much as he was struggling to control himself. 

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined something like this happening.”

“You have?” She struggled with her own voice, her breath uneven like Noah’s.

“I fantasized about you long before I’d like to admit,” he told her. “I used to imagine you under me, wrapped around me, crying my name as I made you come.” He exhaled, his lips brushing against hers in a ghostly kiss. “And that’s not even the indecent part.”

The tail brushed against her folds, featherlight, wicked. He knew what he was doing. 

“I used to get hard thinking about you on your knees,” he murmured, letting himself get comfortable with the weight of his body resting on his side, on his forearm. His fingers landed on her lips, thumb teasing her bottom one as his other hand continued to tickle her with the fur of the tail. “Sucking me off with so much reverence. Submitting to me in every possible way.”

Another slow stroke of the tail that made her moan and arch, searching for it as he moved his hand away. Damn it.

“Because I fucking knew you would. Because you’ve always been so good to me, so willing to please me. And you would love it. Would love pleasing me.”

His voice dropped lower, rougher. 

“You’d be so good. So sweet. So dirty.” His fingers gripped her jaw, tilting her head back. “I’d get drunk on the sight of you looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes, opening your mouth just for me.”

He never broke eye contact. Never stopped teasing her, keeping it at the low, just enough to build her up, never enough to let her tip over. Every time she arched, chasing the sensation, he pulled the tail away. 

“I used to think about petting you,” his lips brushed her throat. “Like a good little kitten.”

Another slow drag of the tail. Right over her clit. 

“And I knew you’d let me do whatever I wanted because I’ve always taken good care of you and I deserve it.” His mouth hovered now just below her ear. A shiver wrecked through her. Her hands fisted the bedsheets, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. “I deserve you. I deserve to fuck you in a way that shows you exactly how fucking madly in love with you I am.” His words were a promise. “And that’s by taking you from one orgasm to the next until not a single part of you doubts it.”

She was seconds away, another whimper escaping her parted lips, head tilted back on the pillow.

“There’s… nothing in me doubting it,” she barely pulled herself back from the edge to whisper those words. 

His breath fanned against her lips. 

“Let me show you anyway,” he said. 

Lia opened her eyes and lifted her head, catching his bottom lip between her teeth, biting just hard enough to make him groan.        

“I’m yours,” she rasped.

An invitation. A reminder. 

His fingers slid down, firm, possessive.

“I’m going to make you come with my tongue first. And then, I’m going to worship you by fucking you as hard and deep as you can take me.”

“Yes, please.”

With a pleased, wicked smile, Noah got off the bed and onto his knees. 

He left the tail on the mattress, his hands instead finding Lia’s legs, spreading her open for him and only him. 

Under the dim bedroom lights, her pussy glistened, wet and waiting. 

It would be so easy to slide his cock inside her right now. And it would feel like heaven. 

But first, he wanted a taste. 

He pressed a kiss to her navel, then trailed downward until he reached her mound. He blew right on her clit. She gasped.

“Lia?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hold back.”

She nodded, sinking her head into the pillow as Noah’s mouth found her. 

The first flick of his tongue made her thighs tense. He sucked gently, then teased her with soft licks, his hands keeping her spread wide. 

“Tell me how deep I can go,” he murmured, voice rough, right as two fingers slid inside her. 

He watched her from between her legs, reading every reaction as he curled his fingers, pushed deeper. 

Lia held her breath—until she felt him at the very edge of her limits. 

“There,” she gasped, body tensing. “Don’t go deeper.”

Noah barely withdrew an inch. 

“Baby, you can fit my fingers to the knuckles.” 

Her head lifted strenuously from the pillow; cheeks flushed. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope,” his chuckle was dark and seductive. “You just took them.” And as he said that, the tip of his two fingers touched her again; touched her limits. 

She felt dizzy, her head falling onto the pillow. 

Ever since they’d finally gotten together, a quiet uncertainty had lingered in the back of her mind at perhaps not being able to accommodate all of Noah, whether it was his fingers or his cock. 

But she could. And the idea—the stunned realization, nearly made her lose her mind. 

However, Noah knew it wasn’t all about the length. 

He had already learned her body. Knew how she liked it. What she liked and how he should use his fingers to take her to the edge with precise, devastating skill. 

They didn’t exchange any other word.

She floated in a haze of pleasure and shock as he pressed his mouth back against her core, his fingers moving in sync, plunging deep before curling to stroke that devastatingly perfect spot. 

Lia moaned, thighs trembling around his head. Noah, in exchange, groaned against her pussy, wrecked by how wet, warm, and sweet his girl was; by how fucking responsive to his touch. 

His cock throbbed painfully, harder than he’d ever felt before. 

And when she finally broke, when her orgasm hit, sending her arching off the bed, screaming his name as if he was a God, her hands now fisting his hair, thighs clenching against his head—he didn’t even give her a chance to recover. 

The last of his clothes hit the floor. 

The next second, he was on the bed, covering her, his body burning against hers. 

He nudged her legs apart with his knee, gaze fierce as he lined himself up and pushed inside her, burying himself in one deep stroke. 

Lia’s heartbeat spiked as she clenched around him, pulsing from her release. She gripped his biceps as he started to move, her body still sensitive, reeling. 

Noah didn’t fully lay on her. Instead, he held himself up on his forearms, his hips free to move as he dragged himself out and plunged back in, making her feel every thick inch. 

“You’re soaked, baby,” he rasped. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You feel so good,” she breathed, lifting her head to kiss and nibble along his jawline. 

It was true. She had never felt him this rock-hard inside her. 

His eyes flicked down, to the choker around her throat. Then lower. 

The next minutes blurred. 

Noah pulled out and flipped their positions, moving her with an effortless strength that never failed to surprise her. 

Before she could react, she found herself straddling him, her thighs spread wide over his lap, his cock resting against her soaked slit, nearly reaching his navel. She rocked against him, teasing, feeling the heat of him rub against her. Noah uttered a vulgar word as he saw Lia’s folds rubbing so obscenely over his cock, covering him in her slick. 

He reached for the nightstand, where a few scattered condom packages lay from the previous nights. While he ripped one open and rolled it over his cock, Lia removed the bodysuit, throwing it onto the floor. Then his hands were back on her hips, guiding her down.

“Noah,” she gasped, throwing her head back as the stretch sent a delicious shiver through her. 

“Jesus, Lia. The way you stretch around me.”

She looked down, her lips curling into a smirk, her beautiful brown waves framing her face. Noah groaned as she squeezed around him. His fingers tightened on her hips, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he shot her a warning look. 

“Don’t do that again.” He rasped. Lia only smiled and continued moving, rolling her hips, her hands pressing against his toned stomach for balance. “Or I will come.”

She just needed to see herself the way he was seeing her. 

That tattooed body.

That pierced nipple.

Those kitty ears atop her long, tousled waves.  

That damn choker wrapped around her throat. 

She was the single most beautiful, erotic thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

If she could see herself, Noah, thought, she would come from the sight alone and she would understa—

And then, she squeezed around him again. Hard. 

A flicker of darkness crossed Noah’s eyes. 

And suddenly, she was weightless. 

In one movement, he lifted her just enough to hover, taking control.

Then he fucked her, hard and fast, slamming his hips upward, his cock driving into her in a fevered frenzy that had her screaming, crying out his name—once, twice, three times—until her nails raked down his chest, struggling for support. 

Noah growled beneath her, a deep, primal sound. 

His rhythm faltered. A long, guttural groan ripped from his throat, filling every corner of the room as the condom filled with his release. His body tensed. He pulsed inside of her, throbbing, his blood hammering in time with hers. 

They were both panting, bodies slick with sweat, skin buzzing. 

Even as he caught his breath, he rasped, “Did you come?” 

Lia barely managed a breathless “no”, but he caught it. 

In a blur of tangled limbs and crumpled sheets, she found herself on her hands and knees. Noah’s hand pressed between her shoulder blades and pushed her down. 

And then—his messy condom-covered cock was sliding between her legs again as he entered her from behind.  

He fucked her relentlessly, each thrust deep and unyielding, his gritted words lost in the haze of her pleasure. She could barely process what he was saying. She could only grasp the raw, uncontrollable need in every slam of his hips against her, the slap of her butt against his thighs.

His fingers tangled in her hair. 

He yanked her up, causing her just a sting of pain that lasted no more than two seconds. Her sweaty back collided with his sweaty tatted chest, his lips finding her temple, then trailing down to her ear. 

“Look what you did. You made me come and got me hard again in a matter of seconds.” He slammed into her. Over and over and over again. “You’re a goddess, you know that? Prettiest girl in the world. All mine to fuck.” Slam. “And adore.”

“Noah,” she sobbed, finding his thighs to grasp for support. “I’m going to come so hard.”

“Ah yes,” his voice was pure sin. “I want you to come so hard that you pass out in my arms, baby. I wish you could see yourself now. All flushed. All perfect. All submitted to me.”

His hand slid up her throat, just above the choker, and fingers wrapped lightly around her neck, adding just a tinge of pleasure. 

“You like this, Lia? You like it when I love and fuck you like this?”

“Yes.”

He squeezed. Just the right amount of pressure. 

“Did you ever think of us this way? Of me fucking you senseless?”

Her words caught in her throat. Her mind was spinning, barely able to process, barely able to think. 

“Yes,” she finally breathed out. 

“Fuck, Lia. Really?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He tightened his hold, just enough to heighten the pleasure. “I want to hear you. Even if you can barely speak, tell me what you thought about.”

She struggled to find her voice, her throat dry, her mind blurred from the force of his thrusts. 

“I thought…” she swallowed hard. “I thought about how it would feel to have you inside me. To be at your mercy. To let you—to let you play with me.” A shaky breath. “I imagined how it’d be to feel your skin on mine, your breathing on my ear, your hand around my throat…” Her voice wavered. “And… And…”

“And what, Lia?”

“And how you’d tell me what a good girl I am for you.”

Another thrust. She cried out, nails digging into his skin, even though the grip of his hand around her throat alone was what kept her from collapsing face-first onto the mattress. 

“You are. You’re such a good girl for me, Lia, baby.” 

“Noah… Touch me. Touch me now.”

Noah’s other hand slid to between her legs, to her clit. 

“Yes. Yes. Like that, Noah.”

“Who do you belong to, Lia?”

“To you. I belong to you.”

“And who do I belong to?”

“To me.”

“That’s right. I belong to you. Only to you. My sweet and dirty Lia.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you. I love you so much that sometimes I think I should spend every hour of every day fucking you and watching you come over and over just because you deserve it.”

“Noah!” Half a scream, half a sob. “Please, don’t… don’t say those things or I’ll come.”

“That’s what I want. Are you close, baby?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Come. Come, Lia.”

His fingers slid down her stomach until they reached her pussy. He began stroking her with two fingers, and it was a matter of seconds before she exploded, his fingers waltzing a delicious dance over her clit and his words of praise in her ear. She shuddered and went limp in his arms.

He wasn’t far behind. He roared in her ear as he thrust a few more times inside her. He released her neck the moment her body arched against his, thus providing her with a brutal and delicious ecstasy.  

Had it not been for his arms and his cock still inside her, she would have collapsed on the mattress. Noah held them both until even he couldn’t support the weight of his own body. Noah slowly dropped them onto the mattress, releasing Lia to rest his hand on the mattress.

Lia remained on her stomach with Noah’s body covering hers for a while. Despite the weight, she didn’t find it hard to catch her breath.

As they slowly began to come back to, the charged atmosphere in the room became apparent—sweat, the scent of sex, and the smell of their bodies’ fluids. 

After a few minutes, Noah shifted, rolling onto his back and slumping beside her. She turned her head slightly, and he noticed how close she was to falling into Morpheus’ arms. Still wearing her choker and kitten ears, her hair disheveled, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, she looked just like he’d imagined she would look after he fucked her good so many times.

 “That was…” Noah raked a hand through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands back. “Fuck. Lia. You okay?” His chest was still heaving. He could barely even say yes for himself. He was more than fine, but his body felt completely drained. Twice in less than ten minutes, maybe fifteen? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it had been more but who cared. 

“So…fucked.” Lia cracked a grin, her eyes still half-lidded. 

They both laughed softly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. And twice,” Noah muttered, disbelief in his hoarse voice. 

“For a second I thought I was going to pass out,” she confessed. 

“You look like you still could,” he said, his voice softer now. His eyes turned gentle as he watched her.

It was almost surreal. He had just fucked her harder than ever, whispered the filthiest things in her ear, and yet, here he was, looking at her with such tenderness, as though she were an angel on his bed. 

Lia sighed contentedly and nestled her face into the pillow, already slipping closer to sleep. Noah turned his head to stare at the ceiling, focusing on collecting himself when a sudden discomfort between his legs made him shift. 

“Fuck,” he cursed when he noticed the semen from his two orgasms trickling down from the condom. “What a mess.”

Lia glanced at Noah’s softening dick. Oh, what a mess indeed. She couldn’t contain her laughter.

“So, safe to say you liked my surprise?”

Noah turned to look at her, but his expression was somewhat serious. 

He was thinking how it was possible for her to be real. She was definitely not some figment of his fantasies. She was better than anything he could have ever dreamed up. But how could he express that? How could he make her understand? 

“Thank you,” he said simply, because he didn’t know what else to say. 

He moved to find her lips. The kiss started out soft, a gentle way to say thank you, but their passion and constant desire was so enormous it quickly intensified. Before long, Noah was rolling onto his side and… 

“Oh, crap.”

A dribble of cum dripped onto the mattress. 

“Time to change the bedsheets again. Third time in a week.”

Lia let out a grunt, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I can’t move,” she complained. 

“I’ll move you”, Noah replied as he began to sit up, his legs wide on the mattress. He grimaced at the sticky mess coating him, glancing around the room as he wondered how he’d get to the bathroom without spilling the contents of the condom down his thighs and all over the floor. “Ideas?” he asked, looking down at a sleepy Lia.

Her chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. Her eyes fluttered open again. 

“I could lick it all up,” she offered, a cheeky glint in her eyes. 

Another flash of lust shot through him, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy for another round, not with how drained they both were. If he went that hard again, they’d both probably pass out. 

“Aren’t you such a pretty dirty thing, Lia?”

“Just a little,” she replied, pinching her fingers together in a sweet, cheeky gesture. 

Noah’s heart swelled. Jesus, someone should have warned him being in love would be like this—so intense, so explosive. So monumental. He could honestly eat this girl up. 

As he lost himself in his thoughts of her, Lia strained to move, managing to grab one of the pillows and removing the cover. 

“This’ll have to do,” she said, handing it to him to wipe himself off. 

“I’m throwing it out afterward. There’s no point in washing it,” he muttered, starting to clean himself up.

“It’s fine.”

“We can go shopping tomorrow,” he said casually.

“I doubt it,” she replied, her voice drifting lazily. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.”

Noah chuckled.

“I’ll carry you,” he offered, grin plastered on his face. 

“Hmm. I’d rather stay home and have you rail me again.”

Oh.

His dirty Lia. 

He shook his head with a smile, moving to the edge of the bed to stand. Before he left the room, he leaned down and gave her thigh a playful smack.

“Careful what you wish for, kitten. Next time, I might just tie you to the headboard and have my way with you.”

With that, he turned toward the door, unaware of Lia peeking at him through one half-open eye. Her mind was cloudy with exhaustion, but all she could think about was her caring and kinky Noah—and how loved she was by him.

— prev. chapter | chapter nineteen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

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[supersquirrel1996]

They are soo good to each other.

Thank you for the beautiful story! I cant wait to see what comes next!

Smut... was .... amazing!

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter seventeen | wc: 4.8k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah try bondage for the first time.

Reading time: 20mins aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings:  mentions of Lia's past abuse, mental health, shibari (rope bondage), finger sucking, sexual references.

Author's note ✨: I don't know if I'm more emotional than usual, but editing this chapter nearly brought tears to my eyes. I love them and the way they love each other so much it breaks my heart they're both fictional.

Also don't forget how sexy patience and communication can be.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

The pressure of Noah’s fingers on her scalp almost made her moan as he massaged and shampooed her hair. Her eyes were closed, head tilted back. Her chest was nearly brushing against his, her hands gripping his hips to steady herself. 

The shower was the perfect way to wake up after the deep sleep they’d fallen into the night before, exhausted from the long flight from Japan to the States.  

“Jolly’s going to propose to Emery.”

Lia’s eyes snapped open when Noah spoke, his voice casual in the steamy enclosed space the shower was.  

“What?”

“He told me yesterday,” Noah explained. “My reaction wasn’t much different. I had just dropped you off at your apartment, walked into the house, and he dropped the bombshell on me.”

Lia blinked, her fingers unconsciously digging into Noah’s skin.

“But... How—Since when has he been...?” Her hands slid up to his chest, looking for something more solid and hard to lean on. “Are you serious?”

“Serious enough that he asked me to go ring shopping with him,” Noah replied matter-of-factly as he continued to massage Lia’s hair. 

It took her a few seconds to process the news, then a grin spread across her face, and before she could contain herself, she bounced on her tiptoes, letting out a small squeal. “Oh my god! Jolly’s going to propose to Em!” 

Noah smirked, her excitement never failing to spread to him. “Think she’ll say yes?” 

Lia scoffed, as if the question itself was ridiculous.  

Emery was one of her best friends. She’d known her since art school when she had studied graphic design. Lia had even been the first to know about Emery’s crush on Jolly before anyone else.

“Absolutely. She’s been dreaming about Jolly for years. And I’ve never seen her as happy as she’s been with him. I don’t think we’ve ever talked about marriage, but I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes. This is so exciting!” Her excitement bubbled over again and she threw her arms around Noah’s neck, hanging onto him. “Can I come with you and Jolly to pick out the ring?”

Noah’s response was immediate. 

“No.” 

He shot her a look before placing his hands on her shoulders and turning them both so that he was now under the shower spray. As he started rinsing the shampoo from his hair, Lia stared at him, a surprised—and offended—look on her face. 

“Why not?”

“Just because,” Noah replied, ignoring the indignant glare he could feel coming from her. He kept his eyes closed as the water washed through his hair.  

Lia was about to bring her hands to her hips. She huffed. 

 “Just because?” she repeated. “That’s not a reason. I’ve known Emery longer than any of you. I know exactly what kind of ring she’d want. I could help Jolly.”

“No need.”

“But...” She frowned, genuinely not understanding his resistance. “What’s wrong with me tagging along? I’d really like to go.”

“He asked me,” Noah said simply, lowering his head and blinking the water from his lashes. A few strands of hair clung to his temple.

“I’ll ask him if I can join. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

“Lia, I said no,” Noah retaliated, his tone and gaze cutting. 

She blinked at him, taken aback. “Why are you being so… adamant?”

“I’m not being adamant,” he replied, turning to shut off the water. “It’s important to him. If he only asked me, he had a reason. The rest of the guys don’t even know yet, so don’t say anything.” 

Lia rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m not going to say anything. But do you really think Jolly didn’t assume you’d tell me? Come on. He probably took it for granted that we’d go together. You and I always—”

“Lia, what part of ‘he asked me’ is so hard to understand, sweetheart? Just me. Alone. There’s nothing more to talk about. Don’t insist.”

His calm and fraternal tone only made her frustration spike. “Why?” she demanded. “You can be so bossy sometimes, I swear.” She poked a finger into his chest. “You’re so bos—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, his hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes widened in outrage, hands flying up to grab his wrist as she tried to protest behind his large palm, but before she could, he closed the space between them until he pressed her against the cool shower tiles. “Shut up, Lia.”

She waited for her chance to speak the second he let go. But the moment he did, he silenced her by covering her mouth with his.  

Two weeks later

Convincing Noah proved to be an arduous task. Lia kept insisting for days, and every time she did Noah ended up throwing her off, so she finally gave up. Jolly hadn’t said anything to her yet, and Lia guessed Noah was right: Jolly wanted to keep it a surprise until he decided to get down on one knee to propose to Emery. Lia was very excited about what that entailed, but she knew how to behave in front of Emery and keep her mouth shut each of the times they saw each other in those two weeks. 

Those weeks after returning from Japan happened to be quite hectic. Everyone was back to work, focused on new projects, the new album, upcoming tour. Lia, in turn, was working on the possibility of creating a book with some of her sketches and trying her hand at exhibiting some of her canvases. 

Friday afternoon, she was alone in her apartment, sitting on the floor of the small room she called her studio. Noah was in the music studio with the rest of the band. He had been there since morning, and they hadn’t seen each other since he had dropped her off at her apartment hours earlier. 

Next to Lia, on the floor, was an empty coffee cup, the bottom covered with a bit of cinnamon residue. Lia had lost track of time. The quiet of the day and various dreams she’d had that week had her drawing almost frantically. She wasn’t even paying attention to what she was drawing because she was too focused on the small details, the lines, the shadows. 

She didn’t come out of her trance until suddenly her phone pinged three times in a row, indicating three new messages. They were messages from Emery, asking if she would like to have dinner together tomorrow, girls only. And a picture of her cat. Lia replied yes, sent a heart-eyes emoji as a reaction to the cat picture, and put the iPhone down again. 

She picked up the sketchbook, and that’s when she truly saw what she had been drawing. It was as if a blindfold had fallen from her eyes. She had been aware, in some distant way, of the images forming under her hand, but she had never paused to consider what they might mean. With a frown, she flipped back through the pages, finding more of the same.

Girls tied up, flowers curling around their limbs, stars blinking above them.

They were not sexual drawings, not in any explicit sense. Most of the figures were clothed, some in long dresses, others in short sleeves, in underwear… but there was an intimacy woven into the lines, something between the captivity and the care portrayed. Perhaps it lay in the delicacy of the strokes, the rendering of wrists tied with ribbons, the way the flowers seemed to cradle the girls rather than trap them. There was no fear in their faces, only a quiet stillness, a dreamlike serenity. The contrast was unsettling: the restraint of the body, the freedom of the surrounding beauty. It was both innocent and charged, gentle and vaguely transgressive.

With her fingertips, she gently traced the hair of one of the girls in the drawing. It was, in essence, a visual half-story. It was obvious that the girl was lying in bed, or on the floor—it didn’t matter. Her hair took up much of the page, while only half of her face was visible. However, the real focus of attention was not on her face, but on her wrists: tied with a rope knotted in a bow, the ends of which were wrapped around her forearms, almost like a hug.

Lia had outlined only her eyebrows and eyes; the rest of her face remained hidden. And yet, the serenity emanating from the figure was undeniable. A peace that Lia found herself longing for, desiring with an unexpected fervor.

An hour later, tired and somewhat exasperated, she decided to take a shower. The water helped her calm down a bit, though it also brought back memories of the last few times she had showered with Noah. 

When she stepped out, wrapped in a towel with her hair still damp, she looked for her phone. Once she had it in her hands, she hesitated for only a couple of seconds before texting Noah.  

Lia: Hey. Can we stay at my place tonight?

Noah didn’t take more than five minutes to reply.  

Noah: Sure—just tidying up here. You okay? Did something happen?

Lia: Everything’s fine. 

She hesitated again. Then typed:

Lia: “Can you bring the ropes?”

The three dots on the screen lingered longer than she would have liked. She bit her lip, feeling warm again despite just having showered. A minute later, Noah’s response came. 

Noah: Sure. I’ll be there in 30min. Love you x

A duffel bag hung over Noah’s shoulder as he opened the door to Lia’s apartment thirty minutes later. He’d be lying if he said that ever since he’d received Lia’s text, his heart (and something else) hadn’t been beating faster than usual. 

He’d had plenty of time to think about what might happen that night on the way over (he’d stopped at home after leaving the studio to grab some clean clothes and the ropes they had bought in Japan). He was grateful for that because it’d allowed him to gather his thoughts, organize his ideas, and center himself before seeing Lia. 

Whatever happened that night, just seeing her and making her smile would be enough. Everything else would just be a bonus.  

“Lia? I’m home,” he announced, shutting the door behind him. 

Lia appeared down the hallway two seconds later, dressed in gray leggings, a white T-shirt and matching socks. Her hair was down, and Noah could swear that the scent of her shampoo had already caught up to him the moment she stepped into the room. 

“Hey,” she greeted, walking toward him. 

Noah didn’t take his eyes off her as he set the bag down on the kitchen bar and closed the little distance left between them. 

Lia stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he kept watching her with a tiny frown. She was fidgeting—he could tell. 

“I’m a little nervous,” she said, her voice steady but soft. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, through a playful smile danced on her lips. “But if you’re not too tired from work, I was thinking… maybe tonight we could try out those ropes we bought in Tokyo.”

Noah reached out to palm her head and slide his hand down her hair. 

“I’m never too tired for you.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. 

“Are you sure? He echoed, his gaze intent on hers.

Lia gave a small nod. 

“Did you bring them?”

Noah responded with a slight dip of his head, resting a hand on the duffel bag. 

Lia made a satisfied little gesture. She grabbed Noah’s other hand and tugged him toward the bedroom, making him carry the duffel bag clutched in his fist.

Once inside, Noah set the bag down on the white dresser and turned to face Lia.

“Before we start, are you sure you don’t want some dinner first?”

They could order takeout if she wasn’t in the mood to cook, or they could prepare something light, fill their stomach, catch up on their day and then get to ‘work’.

“No.”

Her answer was final. She wanted to do this now because she didn’t know when she’d feel this courage—bravery, or whatever it was—again. 

“Is it because you’re nervous?”

“I guess?”

“We’ll stop as soon as you tell me to stop,” Noah assured her. “Even if I’m the one holding the ropes, you’re in control, okay?”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, thankful for his words. Then, she asked, “how do we do it?” 

Noah made his eyebrows dance. “To be honest, I don’t really know.” He ran his free hand through his hair, pushing it back. 

“Do you want me to... get naked?”

“No,” Noah replied, a wave of heat crossing his eyes. “Stay in your underwear. Is that okay with you?”

Lia nodded.

“I want you to be comfortable,” Noah continued, turning back to pull the ropes from the bag and placing them on top of the dresser. “From now on, I’ll need you to use your words, okay?” He waited for an answer looking at her from over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

She undressed. 

Meanwhile, Noah disappeared for a couple of minutes and returned with a few scented candles in his hands. He placed them around the room and lit them, their glow adding to the coziness of Lia’s bedroom. 

Only in her delicate white cotton underwear set, Lia stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for him, for his instructions. 

Noah took one look at her and then, he pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt, letting both fall to the floor. 

He walked over to Lia, cupped her jaw with his fingers, and kissed her deeply.

“Get on the bed, on your knees.”

Lia obeyed as Noah picked up a black rope, letting it slide through his hands. 

Positioning himself in front of her, he took in the sight—her back straight, hands resting on her knees, hair cascading down her shoulders and chest. She looked beautiful in that submissive posture. Adorable, even. 

And she would look even more stunning once she was tied up.

“I think you should tie your hair up,” he pointed out. 

With the hair tie around her wrist, Lia quickly gathered her hair into a messy low bun. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. She immediately looked back up at Noah, waiting. 

“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted. “I mean, reading instructions in a book isn’t the same as actually doing it on a person. It might not look as… polished as the pictures.”

“We have time to practice,” Lia reassured him.

Her enthusiasm—her trust and hope—made something settle in his chest, pushing him past his lingering hesitation and insecurities. 

“Alright. Let’s do this,” he said, rolling his shoulders. Then, meeting her eyes, his tone grew more serious. “If anything feels too tight, you tell me. If you start feeling uncomfortable or start having second thoughts, you tell me. And if I hurt you—even a little—you tell me immediately. Understand?” 

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Understood, Lia?” He insisted. 

She hesitated just a second, the intensity in his eyes causing something low in her belly to prickle, before flashing him a teasing smile. 

“Understood, Sir.” 

It was clearly an attempt to cut through her nerves—and his. Noah exhaled quietly, some of his tension melting, but he still felt the nerves buzzing under his skin.

“Good girl,” he murmured. 

And he began. 

With the black rope in hand, Noah explained the design he had in mind—a star-shaped pattern across her chest that would also keep her arms bound behind her back. If she wanted to continue, he would move to another design on the lower part of her body later. 

He wasn’t sure how long it would take since this was his first time actually doing this, but Lia didn’t seem to mind. It struck him as absurd that she was the one constantly reassuring him when, logically, it should have been the other way around. 

Without needing further instruction, Lia moved her arms behind her, wrists placed together, side by side. 

Noah measured the length of the rope with quiet focus and got started at her back with a simple double-column tie, his fingers steady despite the small furrow between his brows. As the first loop slid across her skin, Lia’s heart skipped a beat. She was going to be tied up, unable to defend— protect herself if… She closed her eyes and pushed those thoughts away. And soon, that sensation morphed into something warm, something oddly comforting.  

Her eyes shot back open to find Noah watching her as he worked. He was closely watching her reactions. 

Using the long tail of the rope, he moved up along her spine, securing an anchor for the entire harness, just like he had seen in the book. When she instinctively tested her wrists, giving a small tug, Noah stopped. 

“Okay?” he asked, voice careful. 

“Yes,” her reply was soft and simple.

Still, he doubted. His biggest fear was that this would take her back to her time with Mitch. To a place where she had no escape. 

“You can continue,” Lia said when she noticed he wasn’t moving. 

Noah moved around her, getting on and off the bed as needed. He wrapped the rope around her torso, just above her covered breasts, and secured it back to the anchor. Then, he brought it forward again, this time looping it under her bust, forming a second horizontal band. Carefully, he crossed the rope diagonally over her chest, creating an X-shape before threading it through the upper wrap.

Lia hadn’t asked why she needed to wear so little clothing, but she supposed it had something to do with vulnerability, with feeling—how we are at our most exposed when we’re bare. And right now, she did feel vulnerable, but in a way that had her nipples hardening at every innocent brush of Noah’s knuckles against her breasts. She focused on his touch, the sensation of surrendering to him, of what it meant, of why she was doing it, and it all sent an exhilarating shiver down her spine. 

The next part should have been simple. Noah just needed to mirror the pattern on the opposite side to form the star. But with Lia letting out soft, contented breaths and flashing him small, reassuring smiles, Noah found his thoughts clouding over and his dick getting hard. 

He made a mistake. 

Stepping back to check his work, he frowned. Instead of a perfect star, something awkward and symmetrical stared back at him. 

Lia tilted her head, a single strand of hair escaping her bun and falling over her face. “Something wrong?” 

Noah scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, uh… I think I messed up.”

They looked at each other, then burst into quiet laughter. 

After undoing a few steps and correcting his mistake, Noah continued, integrating the ropes with the anchor point and tying them into the structure around her wrists. He tightened the knots carefully, flicking his gaze between them and Lia’s eyes, ensuring she was comfortable. 

“Good? Are you comfortable?”

 “So far, so good, yeah.”

Satisfied, Noah pressed a kiss to her hair, tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear. Reaching for another rope, he explained the next part and got started on it.

“Raise yourself onto your calves.” 

Lia did as instructed. 

“Part your legs a little. That’s it. Perfect.”

Starting at her waist, Noah wrapped the rope around her, securing it at the back with a firm square knot. He took a second—maybe longer than necessary—to admire the curve of her butt, barely covered by the thin fabric of her thong. His hands moved with precision as he created the first thigh wrap, bringing the rope down between her legs and looping it around one thigh. 

As he worked, he pulled the rope diagonally across the front of her thigh, threading it under the waist wrap to begin forming a diamond shape. 

As the rope slid between her legs again, making her acutely aware of every point of contact, of how her mind was reacting, Lia started to feel slightly aroused—and embarrassed. Noah seemed so focused on the task, so intent on just creating the perfect design…

Or so she thought, because the moment she felt herself grow wet, her eyes slid down and it didn’t go unnoticed to her the bulge straining against Noah’s pants.  

He was sculpting her, framing her body in a web of tension and symmetry. She was turning her into something to display, only for his eyes—and the result was obviously having some effect.

He performed the same steps on the opposite thigh, mirroring the shape. He knotted the rope securely, double-checking with her. Each knot cinched the rope tighter against her flesh, and with it, the feeling of being put together only grew. It was… nice. Comforting. It felt as if someone was providing a protective blanket when she was falling apart, piece by piece, to keep her from shattering. 

When the time came for the final knot, Noah’s hands lingered at her hip, his fingers brushing tenderly before securing the rope with a careful pull. Once done, he methodically checked each connection, sliding his fingers between the rope and her body to ensure nothing was too tight. He checked the pressure at her wrists, below her breasts, between her legs and below her butt. Perfect.  

By the time he was done, Lia felt exposed but cocooned. The combination of ties bound her arms behind her while wrapping her body in elegant patterns. Her upper body was restrained and accentuated, while the ties at the bottom decorated her lower half with a beautiful web of black. The contrast between restriction and security was something she hadn’t really expected, she had to admit. She had trusted Noah, but this was unfamiliar territory. Even after reading about the art of Shibari, she wasn’t sure it would feel the same as in the pages. 

Nothing would have prepared her for how it would feel, anyway. 

Every slight movement made her hyper-aware of where the rope pressed and pulled. And with each shift, she was reminded of Noah’s care and attention. He’d tied her because he loved her, and while doing so, he had inhabited the moment with her, watching how the rope transformed her body and how she responded to it. 

And it responded.

Lia knew she was wet between her legs, and she was waiting for Noah to notice so that the flush of shame would take over. 

Instead, before he even stepped back to fully admire his work, he stayed close. He lifted her chin with gentle tattooed fingers, and his thumb traced her bottom lip. 

Daring, Lia opened her mouth, just slightly, before wrapping her lips around the tip of his thumb and sucking softly. 

Noah let out a slow, unsteady exhale. His control faltered for a split second before he lowered his forehead to hers. 

“Breathe with me,” he said.  

Time blurred. Minutes passed. Two. Maybe ten. 

She drifted into the haze of it, the feeling of the ropes hugging her body, the flickering of the candles, the scent of Noah, the steady weight of his hands cradling her face as if she were something delicate, their energies tangled together like the ropes around her. 

When they broke contact, Noah stepped back, studying her with quiet intensity. 

Lia was about to speak when he reached behind her head. His fingers found the elastic that held her bun in place, slipping it free. Her hair spilled over her back and shoulders, cascading over her chest. He took a moment to smooth it down, ensuring not a single strand covered her face. 

She was bound. Beautiful. And entirely his.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Obviously, Lia’s cheeks, already warm, tinted pink. 

“Thank you.” 

His eyes searched hers. “Do you feel okay?”

“Better than I expected,” she answered honestly. 

A flicker of something passed through his expression before he asked, “Can I take a picture of you?”

“Yes.”

Noah moved quickly, snapping a couple of pictures. As soon as he was done, he set his phone aside and turned his full attention back to her. His eyes swept over her again, slower this time. 

Lia fidgeted slightly, the movement making the ropes tighten deliciously around her. But it wasn’t just the sensation of the bindings that made her shift—it was him. The way he was looking at her. The way it was impossible to ignore the hard line pressing against the front of his sweatpants. 

Then his expression changed. 

His eyes zeroed in between her legs. 

In two steps, he closed the distance and without a word, his fingers brushed over her panties, right over the damp patch that had formed there. 

A barely-there touch. The lightest pressure.

Lia held her breath. 

Noah lifted her fingers to her face, just inches from her lips, and rubbed his thumb and index finger together. They were coated in her wetness. 

“Does this turn you on? Being tied up?”

“I didn’t know,” she answered. She swallowed, pulse hammering. “There’s no point in hiding it now, is there?”

“Why would you hide it?” he asked, frowning.

Lia shrugged, the ties pulling at the movement. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he corrected. And without giving her a moment, he took those wet fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. 

Arousal coiled deep in her belly at the sight of it, at the slow, deliberate way he held her eyes as his tongue flicker over his fingers, tasting her.

And suddenly she imagined how it would feel to be laid on the bed, tied while Noah ate her up, without mercy, without stopping, taking her from one orgasm to another until she was begging him to fill her up. 

 She wanted that tongue between her legs right now. She wanted that cock that hid behind those sweat in her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. 

“One of the purposes of this,” Noah said with measured voice, as if he could read her mind, see inside of it, “is exactly that—turning you on.” 

And it had; it had turned her on. Badly. 

Being tied up, completely at his mercy knowing fully well he would never hurt her—only worship and pleasure her, was intoxicating. And she wanted more. 

 She was bracing for him to finally touch her when he let his hand drop to his side and announced, “I’m going to untie you now.”

Lia blinked as confusion settled inside.

“But—aren’t we going to have sex?”

“Not now.”

Her brows pulled together. “Why not?”

“Because that wasn’t the purpose of tonight,” his fingers traced the intricate knots along her body, checking the tension one last time. “This time it was about ensuring that you enjoy this… about showing you that you’re safe with me… And about proving to myself that I have enough restraint to take it slow and easy with you.” 

Realization dawned. He was holding back. For her. 

He was scared; he had to admit it. He was terrified of pushing her too far too soon. He had seen her grow, seen her heal, but he also knew the ghosts of the past weren’t easily exorcized. And if Mitch still haunted her beneath the surface, one wrong move could set her back. 

He refused to let that happen. He didn’t want Lia scared of him.

Lia’s voice was soft when she spoke. 

“You don’t have to take it slow and easy with me, Noah. And I already know I’m safe with you.” 

Yeah, and she had mentioned she loved seeing him go all feral on stage. That didn’t mean he had to rush things when it wasn’t necessary. 

When the time came for her to be tied and fucked, she would be giving all of herself to him, surrendering all control even though he would always stop the moment she said so. 

He needed to make sure she was ready for that when it happened, and he didn’t think the moment was now. 

Maybe she was ready, but patience was easy when it came to her. And for her, he would wait forever. 

Lia’s brown eyes flicked down to his erection, still straining against his sweats. “What about…?” 

Heat surged through him at the way she looked at him. 

“I can take care of that, if you let me,” she said.

He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“We’ll take care of that—and you—later. Now, we untie you and we eat something. Maybe change those panties first.”

She sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, totally understanding. She straightened her back and tilted her chin, offering him her lips. 

Noah kissed her thoughtfully. Adoringly.

When he pulled away, he grinned. “We have all night to get dirty,” he murmured, bending down to start untying her. “Don’t we?”

Yes. Yes, they did. 

The way he looked up at her as he worked the knots off made her melt, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of happiness this man brought to her. 

“Why are you so good, Noah?” 

She didn’t even process the moment the words left her mouth. It didn’t matter; Noah seemed to have an answer ready.

“When you love someone the way I love you, it brings out the best in you.”

For the ones wondering, the Shibari ties and harness that Noah performs on Lia in this chapter are the star-chest harness and the diamond shorts.

— prev. chapter | chapter eighteen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred | @tf-is-aesthetic

[supersquirrel1996]

He takes such good care of her.

I love how you write these moments. Very well thought and respectful. It makes tbe moment so much stronger.

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter sixteen | wc: 2.8k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary:  Lia and Noah return to L.A. and Jolly surprises Noah with big news.

Reading time: 10mins.

Tags and trigger warnings:  mostly fluff, mentions of Lia going back to therapy, 2 spankings.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

The sky was clear when they landed in Los Angeles. Before leaving the airport, they stopped at a Starbucks in the arrivals area for coffee and a quick bite to make up for the cheap food on the plane. Afterward, they took a cab to Lia’s apartment. 

For the time being, they had decided to stay at Noah’s place since he had his studio there and he was meant to start working asap. Lia was already used to living within those walls so it felt like the right thing for now. 

Noah dropped her off at her apartment to unpack and start a load of laundry, agreeing to pick her up later. In the meantime, he would do the same at home. 

When he walked through the door, Jolly greeted him from the kitchen, pausing what he was doing to give him a brotherly hug and a pat on the back. 

Noah had barely set his luggage down when Emery appeared in the hallway, waving at him. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and one of Jolly’s hoodies, looking very much at home. 

“Hi, Noah.”

“Hi, Em.” He gave her a quick hug. 

“Good flight?” she asked, stepping back and noticing the slight dark circles under his eyes. 

“As good as it gets. I think I’m really jet-lagged, though.”

“I’m making coffee,” Jolly announced, busying himself with the machine. “Want some?”

Noah had just had one about thirty minutes ago, but he replied, “Sure. Thanks.”

He removed his backpack and sneakers, sighing as his feet finally found relief. 

“Where’s Lia?” Emery asked, glancing over her shoulder at Noah as she walked into the kitchen to help Jolly. She retrieved three mugs from one of the cabinets. 

“Dropped her at her place,” he explained. They hadn’t been apart for more than fifteen minutes, and yet he was already missing the warmth and peace she brought him just by being around. “I’m picking her up later. She’ll be happy to see you.”

“Em’s been staying here,” Jolly said, stopping the coffee machine and picking up the kettle. 

Noah raised his eyebrows and looked at Emery, who had now made herself comfortable on the couch, waiting for Jolly to bring the coffee. She gave Noah a gentle smile. 

“Nice. How long are you planning to stay?”

“As long as Jolly doesn’t get tired of me,” she replied.  

Jolly pointed at her while passing a coffee mug to Noah across the kitchen isle. “Which is never happening.” 

Emery laughed, her cheeks turning pink. Their comfort with each other was so obvious that Noah felt suddenly stupidly jealous. He was tempted to check the time on his phone. He’d told Lia he’d pick her up whenever she texted him, which he hoped would be soon—just enough time for her to sort her things and take a shower. Had it only been fifteen minutes? Because it felt like she’d been away from his reach much longer.  

Emery’s laughter blended with a sarcastic snort from the hallway. When Noah looked that way, he saw Jesse strolling in.

“I need to fall in love and get out of this house,” Jesse declared, running a hand through his hair. He nodded at Noah. “Welcome back, man.”

“Hey,” Noah said with a nod. 

“Where’s Miss Gremlin?” 

“At her place. She’ll be here later.”

“Great. Well, I’m heading to the gym, so I’ll catch up with you guys later. Oh, and if you are doing laundry, grab my stuff from the basket, yeah?” 

Noah raised his eyebrows, following him with his gaze. Jesse bent down to grab his sneakers from the shoe rack. “I just got back, and you’re already assigning me chores?”

“Consider it a welcome-home gift,” Jesse grinned over his shoulder, tying his laces. “Hope you enjoyed your holiday.”

“I should’ve made it longer,” Noah replied, but there was no malice in his eyes. He picked up his luggage again as Jesse waved goodbye and left. Noah muttered “unbelievable” as he started towards his bedroom. 

“I promise I’m not giving you guys any extra work,” Emery added from the living room, raising a hand. “I do my own laundry.”

“Beware of Jesse,” Jolly warned, dropping onto the couch beside her with the two mugs of coffee. “He’ll rope you in if you’re not careful.”

An hour and a half later—showered, dressed in clean clothes, with the washing machine running and his room semi-organized—Noah returned to the living room. 

He inadvertently interrupted a tender moment in the kitchen, where Emery and Jolly were exchanging whispers between kisses and affectionate touches. Neither of them seemed fazed when Noah walked in; Emery simply gave Jolly a long kiss on the lips, rose on tiptoes, then turned and disappeared into his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Noah raised his eyebrows at Jolly as he crossed to the fridge, intent on finding something to eat.

“Dude, I’m so in love,” Jolly blurted out, leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes frozen on the dark hallway where his girlfriend had just vanished.  

Noah snorted. “I can see that,” he said, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a yogurt.  

“I’m going to marry her.” 

Noah froze, the yogurt halfway out of the fridge. 

He turned slowly. “What?”

Jolly turned to look at him and shrugged. “I’m ready to marry her.”

Noah blinked once. Twice. “But,” he furrowed his brow, closing the fridge and setting the yogurt on the counter. “Wait. Are you serious? You’ve been together for what, a few months? Half a year?”

Jolly crossed his arms, still leaning on the counter. “We’ve known each other for six years. It’s not about the time we’ve been officially dating.”

“Yeah, I get that, but—” Noah blinked again, momentarily lost. He grabbed a spoon from a drawer to buy himself a moment. “I mean… Okay. I do get it, but…” His head was spinning. “I just got back from the other side of the ocean. I expected dirty socks everywhere and an empty fridge—not a bombshell about you wanting to get married. You never said much about it. Doesn’t it feel sudden?”

“Not to me. Not anymore,” Jolly’s voice softened. “She’s the one, Noah.”

“Yeah, Lia’s the one for me, too, and yet—”

“And yet, what are you waiting for?”

“What?”

Jolly shook his head but steered the conversation back to himself. “These past few weeks have been perfect. We work so well together, man. She doesn’t mind my bad habits—I don’t mind hers. We can argue and talk things through. She makes me laugh like nobody else. And waking up and seeing her there beside me is something I can’t even explain. And the sex… Fuck, the sex is good, man.”

Noah looked at him closely, spoon hovering over the open yogurt. “So, you’re totally serious. You’re really thinking about this.”

Jolly spread the back of his hands on the marble, standing to his full height. “Why would I joke about it? I’m telling you because you’re my best friend, and I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I need your thoughts.”

Noah tilted his head slightly, taking a bite of his yogurt as he considered it. “Okay, so… have you talked to her about it? Like, does she even want to get married?” 

“We’ve talked. She does. She even wants kids someday. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Noah shook his head, smiling despite himself. Could he picture Jolly as a husband? A father? No, but only because they’d been so caught up in the band, in working full time, that none of them had stopped for a second to consider wanting something more. Marriage. A family. It made sense, and honestly, Noah was sure Jolly would be great at both.

“Okay,” Noah said, his smile widening. He was suddenly infected by the same thrill coursing through Jolly. “Then it’s a yes from me. Go for it. When are you planning to propose?”

Jolly’s smile turned sheepish. “I don’t know. Haven’t gotten that far yet. We need to find a place first, a nice condo or a house. But I was thinking we could go check out rings next week, to get an idea about prices and stuff, and while we’re at it, maybe you could take a look too.”

Noah raised a slow, suspicious eyebrow at him. 

Where is he going with this?

“Why would I want to take a look at engagement rings?” 

“For whenever you grow a pair and pop the question to Lia.”

Noah stared at him.     

Jolly pointed a finger at him and gave him a sideways look. “Don’t even dare tell me you’re not going to marry her because man, you’ve been breathing her as if she was your oxygen since you were kids. It’s just because you two were stubborn as fuck to admit you loved each other that you’re not married by now.”

“I—” Noah was exhausted, jet-lagged, hungry, and still reeling from Jolly’s sudden news about wanting to get married. And now, thanks to him, he was imagining Lia in a white dress and a flower crown on her head. 

What the fuck. 

“We haven’t talked about this, Lia and I.”

“Maybe it’s time you do. This is the perfect excuse.”

Noah stared at him for a long moment, torn between exasperation and amusement. As thoughts filled his mind, he realized he didn’t even know if Lia wanted to get married. “I came back expecting dirty clothes everywhere and no food in the fridge,” he muttered, “not life advice and a push toward marriage.”

Jolly laughed. “Well, now you’ve got both. Welcome home, man.”

When evening came, Lia and Emery curled up in the corner of the couch after dinner, talking animatedly, each holding a cup of tea, while the boys finished cleaning up the kitchen. 

Somehow, Lia had mustered the energy to prepare one of the dishes Hana had taught her in Japan, and despite his exhaustion, Noah had offered to do the washing up afterward. Before picking her up, Lia had walked to the nearest supermarket to grab the missing ingredients. The moment she arrived at the boys’ house, she started cooking as if she hadn’t just spent the past twenty-four hours crossing the Pacific Ocean and trying to sleep in a cramped, uncomfortable airplane seat. Where she got the energy from, Noah couldn’t tell. 

After the kitchen was cleaned up, the five of them settled on the couch and put on a new Adrien Brody movie. Jesse made popcorn and ended up eating most of it himself, ignoring Jolly and Noah’s comments about all his efforts at the gym going to waste. 

Half an hour into the movie, Noah had already yawned three times. He was stretched out in the corner of the couch, legs extended on the sectional, with Lia nestled against him, his arm draped over her shoulders. Every now and then, she’d ask Jesse to pass the bowl of popcorn.

“I’m dozing off,” Noah murmured to Lia, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shall we go to bed?”

Lia pouted, her eyes wide open. No trace of sleep in her expression, unlike Noah’s.  

“How are you not sleepy?” He asked, frowning as he sat up a bit on the sofa, removing his arm from her shoulders. 

“Hmm…” Lia bit her lip and looked up at him, still nestled at his side with her legs curled under her body. “I may or may not have taken a nap at my place.”

Noah’s eyes widened despite the look of sweet innocence in her face. 

“Without me?” he exclaimed. 

“Dude, shut up,” Jolly told him off without looking away from the screen, where Adrien Brody’s character stood in the pouring rain, his face shadowed under his hat.  

Lia parted her lips to say something in her defense, but she didn’t get the chance. Noah stood up, and towering over her, he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her bridal-style off the couch. 

“Hey!” she protested. “Where are you taking me?”

“Bedroom. To sleep. Good night, guys.”

“Help?” Lia called over Noah’s shoulder, but despite her theatrics, she was smiling, nearly laughing, and she had to admit it felt nice to be carried to the bedroom.

“Sweet dreams, lovebirds!” Jesse said. Next to him, Jolly and Emery laughed, waved their hands and said goodnight.

Once in the bedroom, Noah kicked the door shut behind him. Then, without warning, he threw Lia onto the bed. She landed with a soft thud, her hair fanning out over the gray comforter. 

“That was so romantic,” she deadpanned, stretching before rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She watched Noah with a raised eyebrow as he pulled off his hoodie and tossed it onto the armchair where Lia liked to curl up and read. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, still giving her that mock-offended look she knew was just an act. “Almost as romantic as my girlfriend taking a nap without me.” 

He walked over to close the curtains, then switched on the lamp on his side of the bed. 

“And dramatic,” she added.  

He stopped and gave her a long look. Two seconds later, his open palm landed on her butt with a sharp slap.

Lia gasped, eyes going wide. 

“Did you just spank me?” 

“Should I do it again for clarification?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He grinned, and another smack followed, firm but playful. Even through her cotton leggings, a tingling sensation spread through her. She pressed her legs together, unable to look away from him, her cheeks warming. 

He studied her reaction, enjoying this as much as she seemed to. He arched a brow at the realization. “You likethat, don’t you?”

Lia tilted her head to one side, lifting her feet off the bed and lazily crossing her ankles. “Maybe.”

He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as he reached for one of her wrists, pulling her up. “Come on. Let’s brush our teeth. Then we’re sleeping, because I’m actually dead.”

“Hum,” Lia pouted, but got off the bed and followed him barefoot to the ensuite bathroom. 

The moment they got under the covers, sleep was the last thing on their minds. 

For the next half hour, they talked—about the next day, about Lia’s return to therapy, about how she planned to attend a yoga class beforehand. She had work to catch up on, so she’d spend most of the day at home, while Noah would head to the studio with the guys. 

As they lay tangled up, Lia’s bare foot lazily brushing against his calf, she mentioned she was thinking about taking on more illustration jobs while the band focused on creating new music. It seemed like a good way to stay busy. She could focus on designs for new Bad Omens merch later. 

“That’s a good idea,” Noah murmured, voice thick with exhaustion but still engaged. “You could also think about exhibiting your work.”

“In a gallery?”

“Yeah. Your art is sick. I’ll never get tired of saying it. You should put it out there more. Not just through the band’s merch. I told you before.”

The idea of her illustrations being displayed for people to admire—or worse, to judge—didn’t really sit right with her. 

“I like being behind the work,” she said. “Just making things and putting them out there without having to… explain them. I don’t want to do artist talk or anything.”

Noah turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “Then don’t. You wouldn’t have to. Just exhibit the work and let it speak for itself. People will see what they want to see.”

“Yeah, and what if they see something that isn’t there? I’d want them to see what I see.”

“Art isn’t always about making people see your vision,” Noah said, thoughtful. “It’s about them feeling something. Doesn’t matter what. They don’t have to understand it. And you don’t have to explain it.”

Lia exhaled softly, letting the thought settle in the quiet between them. Maybe.

She rested her head against his shoulder after a while, pensive. Silence stretched between them as she mulled it over. “I don’t know. Maybe someday. I just like things the way they are right now. Making art without the pressure. Just… creating for myself first, you know?”

She paused, waiting for his response.

When she didn’t get one, she lifted her head slightly and looked up.

Noah’s breathing had deepened, his lips slightly parted, the steady rhythm of light snores filling the room.

“Of course you’re asleep,” she muttered. She lifted her head a little, watching him in the dark— the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyelashes fanned against his cheek, the soft exhale of his breath.

Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his in a whisper of a kiss. “I love you,” she murmured before tucking herself back against him, letting sleep finally take her too.

— prev. chapter | chapter seventeen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred | @tf-is-aesthetic

[supersquirrel1996]

Awe Jolly's in love!

I love that Noah is advocating for Lia to put her artwork out there. Especially the ways he's doing it. He's such a supportive boyfriend.

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter fifteen | wc: 3.9k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah-Chan and Lia say goodbye to Hana and travel back to L.A. 

Reading time: 12mins.

Tags and trigger warnings:  mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of medication.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Emi was ironing clothes in the laundry room when Noah walked in. She greeted him with a polite smile and a nod, which he returned as he moved toward the pile of clean, folded laundry on the counter. Just as his hands reached the pile, Emi’s voice rose, startling him. Her words were a flurry of Japanese. Noah turned, eyebrows raised, to see Emi standing right beside him, gesturing to the laundry with quick, determined motions.

“It’s fine. I’m just taking these upstairs,” he said, picking up the clothes. “Lia and I are packing.”

Emi responded with an insistent stream of Japanese, her hands darting forward to grab the clothes. Noah took a step back, shaking his head.

“No, no. I’ve got this. It’s okay,” he said. “I can handle it.”

Emi didn’t back down. She pointed to the laundry, then back at herself, repeating a single word he couldn’t understand. Her face was set with a look of absolute conviction, as if allowing him to carry the clothes upstairs was a personal failure.

“Emi,” Noah said, switching to a slower, exaggerated tone in the hope she might catch the gist of it. “These. Clothes. Upstairs. Me. Okay?”

Still, Emi’s hands darted toward the pile, and her rapid Japanese grew more animated.

Noah sighed, his patience slipping. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but this isn’t necessary. I’m an adult. I can carry my own laundry. Thank you, but no.” He gave her a pointed look, stepping toward the door with the clothes in his arms.

Emi followed him, still speaking quickly. At the foot of the stairs, she blocked his path with a look of utter dismay, as though his refusal to hand over the laundry was an unforgivable act.

“No,” Noah said, leaning forward slightly for emphasis. “It’s. Fine. I don’t need help. Please.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Let me take these up. It’s not a big deal.”

Her expression didn’t shift. For a second, he thought she might physically try to stop him, but when he started up the stairs, she didn’t follow. Her voice, though, continued behind him—a worried string of Japanese he didn’t have the energy to decipher.

By the time he reached the bedroom, Noah let out an exasperated sigh. The cluttered room was a chaotic mix of piles of clothes, shoes, shopping bags, and books. Lia lay sprawled on the bed, her phone balanced above her face.

“You know,” Noah started, dumping the clothes onto a free chair, “we should really start learning some Japanese. Emi’s not picking up English anytime soon, and I’m pretty sure I just told her off in the most awkward way possible.” 

When Lia just hummed in response, he looked pointedly at her. “Weren’t you supposed to be packing?”

Lia whined dramatically, the sound muffled as her phone wobbled precariously in her hands.

“You’re going to drop that on your face,” Noah warned.

“Already happened before you walked in,” she muttered, lowering the phone just enough to smirk at him.

Noah shook his head and walked over to the bed. Without warning, he grabbed her ankle and tugged her toward the edge of the futon. She squealed in protest, but the sound quickly dissolved into laughter as he held her foot up, rolling her leggings to her calf. He pressed a kiss to her ankle. “We need to start packing, or we’re going to be late.”

Lia stretched across the bed like a cat, her arms reaching lazily above her head. “I really don’t want to pack,” she groaned, tilting her head to peek at him.

“You don’t say,” Noah replied dryly, lowering her leg. “Judging by this mess, I couldn’t tell.”

Lia flopped back down, her phone sliding off the bed and onto the floor with a thud. She didn’t even flinch. “It’s just so much work. Can’t we just…stay here forever? Forget the world and live a life of leisure with Emi waiting on us hand and foot?”

Noah snorted. “Pretty sure Emi would quit if she had to deal with us for more than a month.”

“She wouldn’t quit,” Lia argued, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. “She loves us. Deep down, she’s obsessed with the way you command her to do nothing.”

“Ha! She’s obsessed with making sure I don’t do anything myself,” Noah countered, shooting her a look. “Like carry our own laundry upstairs.”

“You’re just mad she won’t let you feel like a functioning adult.”

“Damn right I am,” he muttered, crouching down to gather the scattered shoes around the bed. He tossed a pair of his sneakers into an open bag. “Did you see how she acted when I tried to make us coffee? Like I was committing a federal crime.”

Lia continued to lounge on the bed, her smile smug as Noah sighed and moved back to stand over her. When she showed no sign of moving, he leaned down and tickled her sides. Lia let out a shriek of laughter, twisting and wriggling under his hands, but instead of getting up, she burrowed further among the pillows, looking even more adorable and impossibly cozy.

Noah narrowed his eyes at her, fighting the temptation to give in, lie down beside her, and smother her with kisses. She had that way of making laziness look utterly inviting, but he shook his head firmly.

“Alright,” he said with exaggerated finality, straightening up. “If you’re not going to do it, then I will.”

Before Lia could respond, he marched to her suitcase, the one she’d barely touched since they started packing, and flipped it open. Lia froze, her eyes widening slightly as Noah shot her a smirk and reached into the jumbled mess of clothes inside.

Her reaction was instantaneous. She scrambled off the futon in a rush, darting toward him and planting herself squarely between him and the suitcase. Her arms stretched protectively over the open lid.

“I can do mine myself,” she blurted, her voice hurried but firm.

Noah arched an eyebrow, his hand still hovering above her clothes. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Lia insisted, her voice rising a touch. “You don’t need to do my packing. Thank you very much.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as his expression shifted to one of amused suspicion. “Uh-huh. Why do I feel like there’s something you don’t want me to see?”

“There’s nothing.” Lia said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’m not hiding anything.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed, his smirk widening. “Oh, really? You got awfully fast all of a sudden. And protective. Over a suitcase.”

“It’s my suitcase,” she said, her tone defensive as she adjusted her stance, blocking him entirely. “I should be the one to pack it.”

“Okay, then.” He took a deliberate step to the side, and Lia shifted with him, keeping herself between him and the suitcase like a goalie. Noah tilted his head, his grin practically daring. “But if you’re not hiding anything, then there’s no reason for me not to help, right?”

“Don’t you have your own packing to do?” Lia countered, her voice suddenly sweet.

“If you use that voice, I might end up busying myself with something else other than packing.” 

“Oh, yeah?” If that was a distraction, she would use it to her advantage. “And what is that something else?" 

Noah’s smile grew bigger as he lifted a hand and tucked one of Lia’s hairs behind her ear in such a slow way that something in her stomach started fluttering.  

“You know what that is...” His lips captured hers in a slow, full kiss. 

Lia melted, a hand going to grasp his t-shirt for support. She let her head fall back as he kissed her deeply, his hand caressing the back of her neck. When he pulled away, staying close to her, his breath mingling with hers, Lia remained in the same position with her eyes closed. Noah laughed sweetly at her expression. 

“If you keep kissing me like that out of nowhere,” she said, “I’ll turn into a puddle very soon.” She opened her eyes slowly, her lips still tingling from his kiss. “Doesn’t your neck hurt from having to bend down all the time just to kiss me?” 

Noah chuckled, brushing his thumb across her jawline. “No, it doesn’t.” He paused. “But if it ever does, I can always pick you up and set you somewhere higher. Problem solved.” 

Lia raised an eyebrow. A moment later, he pushed aside a bunch of clothes that were on the desk and hooked an arm around her waist. He lifted her effortlessly off the ground and set her down on the desk. She looked at him with both eyebrows raised, deadpan, ready to snort. 

“It’s the exact same height as me standing on the floor.” 

After two seconds of silence, they both laughed. Noah didn’t waste another second to get between her knees and placing his lips back on hers, stealing any witty comeback she might’ve had. 

The kiss was slower this time, his hand sliding up to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin as though memorizing its softness. He kissed her deeply, his mouth finding hers in a rhythm that made her head spin. A soft hum of approval escaped her lips, and he responded by tilting his head, capturing her lower lip with his, then trailing gentle kisses along her cheek. 

“I love your hair,” she murmured, threading her fingers through it as his lips touched her jaw. 

One of his hands was making its way under her thigh when they heard light footsteps approaching.

Noah pulled away just in time to avoid being caught in a compromising situation as Hana appeared at the doorway, soft wrinkled smile on her face and one of Noah’s hoodies folded neatly in her hands.

“It’s dry. You can pack it now,” she said. The hoodie had been drying outside after a sudden downpour had caught him off guard during his last morning run. 

Noah thanked her, taking the sweatshirt and placing it in his open suitcase on the floor. Lia was still at the desk, her hands gripping the edge as she swung her legs like a little girl pretending to be well-behaved.

Noah became absorbed in reorganizing his luggage, making space for the pile of belongings he had yet to pack, and failed to notice Hana looking around the room—the one that had, over the last few weeks, become her grandchildren’s room—with a wistful smile.

When Noah registered the silence, still crouched by his suitcase, he tilted his head and noticed his grandmother. His heart shrank. 

They spent their last evening with Hana in the cozy warmth of her living room, sipping on tea, flipping through old photo albums, and sharing both laughter and heartfelt anecdotes. 

Lia sat cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, dressed in comfy white joggers, thick socks, and an oversized sweater that hung loosely off one shoulder. Her mug of kukicha tea rested beside her, untouched as her fingers danced across the pages of an album filled with memories. She was eyeing a photo of her and Noah as teenagers, caught mid-laugh during a summer afternoon in the back garden of his grandparents. She was sure the photo had been taken by Nick with Noah’s Grandpa’s camera.

Hana wore a serene smile as she watched Lia flip through the album, adoring how her practically-adopted granddaughter had that pink hue tinting her cheeks again, the same one she’d had as a child. 

Months ago, Lia wouldn’t have recognized the girl in the photos; the one with a carefree smile that radiated happiness as she made unconscious efforts to shut off the pain and hopelessness of home. A year ago she’d felt so far removed from that version of herself, buried under the weight of her own doubts and insecurities, that she had momentarily forgotten the joy she had felt growing up practically under Noah’s grandparents’ roof. 

Now, she saw it clearly—the girl in the picture. She was who she had always been meant to be: she was happy, she was free. And she was full of life.

She’d gotten lost along the way, yes. Growing up hadn’t been easy, and there had been times when she thought she might never find her way back. But this trip to Japan had proven something important: she was still that girl. And now, with Noah by her side, she felt more certain than ever that she could become the woman she was meant to be.

This trip had been their best yet, though maybe that had something to do with what Noah had teasingly said earlier about her taking so long to finally “get in his bed” and always choosing the guest room on previous visits. She’d smacked his chest playfully when he said it in front of Hana, earning an eyeroll from his grandmother, who muttered something about “children” under her breath.

An hour later, as the albums were set aside and their mugs emptied, Lia remembered something. She stood, reaching into the pocket of her joggers, and retrieved the red string she’d kept there an hour ago. 

Crossing the room, she knelt in front of Hana and offered her the open palm of his hand, handing her the delicate thread. 

“I’d like you to keep it, to take care of it as you have done until now,” she said. “I don’t want to risk losing it and have something... bad happen.” 

Hana’s face softened as she took the string in her hands, her eyes glistening with affection. “Dear,” she said, her voice soft, “nothing bad is going to happen.” She paused, holding the string delicately between her fingers. “But I’ll keep it nonetheless, safe in the box where it’s been all these years.”

Hana rose slowly, sending a smile towards Noah, her joints cracking as she got to her feet. Noah moved to help her, but she waved him off, shuffling toward the shelf where the small wooden box had rested for years. With care, she opened it and placed the red string inside.

As she returned to her seat, Noah spoke up. “Why don’t you come back to the States with Lia and I? Just for a while. You could stay with us.”

His words surprised both Lia and Hana with their spontaneity. Lia glanced at Noah, her brow furrowing slightly. “With us” wasn’t entirely clear—they still hadn’t figured out what their living arrangements would look like when they returned. Lia had her apartment, Noah his house with the guys, and both had workspaces they couldn’t part with. But one thing was certain: neither of them could imagine spending nights apart anymore, not after all the time they’d already lost.

Hana’s hands rested on her teacup. “Oh, darling. I’m too old for such long travels. There’s nothing quite like the comfort of my own home.”

“We miss you,” Lia said earnestly, moving to sit on Noah’s knee and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“It’d be so nice to have you around for a while,” Noah added. “Not just seeing you once or twice a year here in Tokyo.”

Hana looked at them both, her heart swelling at the sight of their hopeful eyes and the deep bond they shared, the way Noah held her with a delicate arm around her waist. She could see the love—not just for each other but for her, too. She reached out and touched Noah’s cheek tenderly.

“I’ll think about it, Noah-Chan,” she replied with a warm smile.

It wasn’t a promise, but it was enough.

The next morning, they said goodbye to Hana. Lia promised not to cry in order to make things easier for Hana, but as soon as she broke away their long hug and turned around to get into the cab that was waiting for her and Noah, tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Hana didn’t cry, even as she watched them leave. She knew she would see them again sooner or later and despite her age. However, what encouraged her to stay strong was the knowledge that Noah and Lia had finally found each other, and she wanted to be there to witness their love bloom.

When she entered the house, she found herself alone. There were no boots or sneakers in the entryway, no voices coming from the kitchen to indicate that Lia was trying to learn some Japanese recipe, no tunes running down the stairs because Noah was trying to beat out a new song he’d written. The laughter that used to fill the walls had also faded, along with those moments of silence that Hana recognized so well: the ones that meant Noah had locked himself and Lia in the living room, holding her in his arms and kissing her. The aroma of the coffee they’d had an hour ago still hung in the air, but there was no trace of that ordinariness and those lively moments: Noah’s voice giving orders to someone over the phone, and Lia walking by her and muttering, “He’s so bossy,” followed by Noah’s shout from the other room, “I heard you!”

Hana found herself smiling at what were now memories. 

“There will be more,” she thought. There would be. “I’ll hold out so I can make new memories with them.”

Once at the airport, with their luggage already checked in and only their backpacks to manage, Noah and Lia passed the time until the boarding gate opened, sitting in the uncomfortable waiting chairs.

Noah was engrossed in a book on psychology, while Lia took in the bustling scenery around them. With her AirPods in, she amused herself by watching people moving about the airport, killing time in their own ways. Her gaze eventually fell on an older man sitting in a row of chairs a little farther away, facing her. She watched as he took two pills, presumably for some health-related condition, given his age.

Instead of unease, Lia felt a wave of relief. Ever since Noah had pointed out that she hadn’t taken her medication in several days and that it might be a good thing for her condition, she had stayed off them—over a week now. Seeing someone else medicate didn’t stir fear within her, as she’d anticipated. Instead, it made her proud of her progress. She almost smiled to herself.

Her gaze shifted to Noah. He was completely absorbed in his book, slouched in the chair with his hoodie up.

“I’m going for a walk,” Lia announced, pulling out her AirPods. “Want me to get you anything to eat?”

“No, I’m good,” Noah replied.

Lia nodded and stood, wandering off without straying too far from their gate. The airport was brimming with shops, tempting travelers with souvenirs, snacks, and trinkets. Despite knowing better, she gave in to the lure of distraction and entered a big shop filled with souvenirs, travel essentials, and kitschy charms.

As she browsed the shelves, her eyes landed on something adorable: a plushie bunny holding a miniature katana. Its round, fluffy body was adorned with a tiny warrior’s headband, and its expression somehow managed to look both cute and fierce. Lia picked it up. She turned it over in her hands, feeling the softness of the plush fur and admiring the absurdly cute katana. 

“Noah’s going to love this.”

She brought it to the register and paid for it. Clutching the bag with her newly purchased treasure, she hurried back to Noah.

When she reached him, she stood in front of his chair. “I’ve got something for you, and it’s not a snack bar, I promise.”

Noah looked up, closing his book and giving her his full attention. A big smile spread across his face as he saw the glimmer in her eyes. “What is it?”

With a dramatic flourish, Lia pulled the plushie bunny out of the bag and held it up. “Ta-da!”

Noah examined the stuffed animal for a few seconds before his smile widened even more. He took it in his hands, which seemed almost comically large compared to the tiny plushie, and studied it closely, finding it nearly as adorable as Lia herself. “It’s freaking cute,” he exclaimed.

Lia felt a wave of satisfaction at his reaction. When Noah looked up at her to thank her, he grasped and tugged at her wrist, encouraging her to lean closer. As soon as she did, he kissed her with gratitude.

Two hours later, their flight to Los Angeles was well underway. Lia sat by the window, gazing out occasionally at the endless expanse of clouds, while Noah occupied the aisle seat, preferring the extra space to stretch his long legs. The little tray table in front of Lia was folded down, and she held a pencil between her fingers, her gaze fixed on her open notebook. She had been flipping through its used pages for the past five minutes.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked in a low voice, sensing the whirlwind of ideas running through her mind.

“Something you mentioned one day in my apartment,” she replied, still staring at the notebook.

Noah furrowed his brow, trying to recall, but he’d said so many things in so many different moments. He squinted one eye, miming intense concentration, which made Lia chuckle.

“You said I should make a book,” she reminded him.

Noah’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“I think it might actually be a good idea,” she continued hesitantly. “I could put some of my work together in one collection. My drawings could tell a story, or at least form a concept. I could group them somehow... I’m not sure it would work, but...”

“Of course it would work,” Noah interrupted.

Lia looked up at him, uncertainty clouding her big brown eyes, a faint wrinkle forming between her brows. Noah had always believed in her, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

“And I’d be the first one to buy a copy,” he added.

She rolled her eyes and lightly patted his chest with the back of her hand. “You’d get a free one, silly.”

They both laughed, the tension easing between them.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone softening but still earnest. “It makes me happy to hear you considering it. It’s about time, Lia.”

“Thank you,” she said thoughtfully.  “For pushing me to do things I’m not sure of... Things I’d never do on my own.”

Noah didn’t need her thanks. She was his girl; his responsibility. Since forever. He would always strive to be the best version of himself for her, to help her become the best version of herself.

He reached out and affectionately pinched her cheek with two fingers, earning a playful scrunch of her nose in response. A moment later, Noah bent down to retrieve his backpack from under the seat in front of him and pulled something out. 

“Shrimp chips?” he offered.

The hours in the air drifted by as Noah’s pen scribbled lines that might one day become lyrics for a new album while Lia sketched quietly beside him, humming to herself every once in a while. Eventually, after eating the not-so-delicious food provided by the airline, they both fell asleep, Lia’s head resting on his shoulder, two blankets —courtesy of the airline—draped over them. 

When they woke, the sunlight streaming through the window revealed the sprawling landscape of California. 

— prev. chapter | chapter sixteen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lacy1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae | @todressabladeupinred

[supersquirrel1996]

This is so cute!

[veephoenix]

zutto — chapter fourteen | wc: 3k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia have a delicate conversation about her well-being. 

Reading time: 10mins.

Tags and trigger warnings:  Implied ptsd, lia being on medication, talks/mentions of anxiety, nightmares, mood swings... One mention of lia's wet dream from the prev chapter. Mentions of the Yakuza. The rest is just Noah being the best boyfriend and both being soft and fluffy with each other.

Just to clarify: in the previous chapter, only the part where Lia was sucking Noah off was a dream. Everything else—their day in Tokyo, at the exhibition, returning to Hana's, having tea before going to bed and then sex in the middle of the night—was all true.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Noah watched Lia kneeling in the garden, her hands busy pressing soil around the last of the flowers they’d bought from the town market that morning. 

They’d spent the past two days digging, planting, and building a small pond in Grandma’s front garden. Lia had used the seeds she’d brought from America, and as she and Noah worked together, she quipped something about it probably being illegal, a case of ‘botanical smuggling’ or ‘species trafficking.’ He’d spent five minutes laughing about the comment and the way she’d said it. 

Now, from the kitchen window, Noah observed her again. A cup of coffee warmed his hand as he sat on the counter. Her long braid swinged as she moved, two loose strands of hair framing her face. She wore overalls that were smudged with dirt and a white t-shirt underneath. He was sure she wasn’t wearing a bra. The back of her gloved hand brushed her cheek before she returned to flattening the soil around the red spider lily she’d planted, and Noah caught on the way she bit her lip as she focused on it.

“You watched her just like that when you were kids.”

Noah turned his head, startled by Grandma’s voice as she appeared beside him. She set a tin of freshly baked cookies on the counter and joined him at the window, her old, wise eyes following his.

“She used to spend long hours making flowers crowns, and you were just fascinated by it. She’d keep them long after they’d withered.”

Noah chuckled, his shoulders lifting in an easy rhythm. “Guess some things don’t change.”

“Hmm. You look pensive,” Grandma said, her tone shifting, the way only she could when concern edged into curiosity. She studied him more closely. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Noah said, finally tearing his gaze from the window to look at her. “It’s the opposite.”

Hana’s brow furrowed, but she waited, her silence asking him to elaborate.

He placed his coffee down and put his feet on the ground, straightening up. “Lia hasn’t taken her medication for three days.”

Hana’s expression changed, her features dropping. She didn’t look at Lia, but kept her eyes on Noah, her wrinkles deepening. She was shorter than she’d ever been, but her worries for her grandchildren remained the same as when they were little. “How concerned should we be about that?”

 “I don’t know. I think she’s just forgotten. I’d be worried, but look at her.” He gestured toward the window with his chin. “She’s fine. She’s calm, she’s laughing, she’s getting her hands dirty… Her mood’s been steady this whole time. No episodes. No spirals.” 

Hana stared at Lia, unsure. She did look happy, smiling at her flowers, and she’d been a joy to have at home these past few days, but… 

“These things aren’t always linear.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bit frustrated. “Don’t think I’m not worried. We’re away from home with no worries on our backs. The moment we set foot back in the States there will be work, and stress…”

“Stop.” Grandma said, touching his arm. “One thing is clear and that is that you are no doctor, dear. You need to talk to a professional before making assumptions of any kind.”

Noah sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had settled there. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

They fell into silence, their eyes naturally drifting back to the window. Outside, Lia brushed dirt from her gloves, removed then, and softly caressed the petals of an orchid. 

“She’s come so far,” Grandma said quietly, almost to herself. “From that little girl on a sidewalk to this woman… However, it costs nothing to be cautious and do things right.”

Noah nodded. “I have to do things right. For her. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“And you won’t,” Grandma said, patting his arm. “One step at a time, Noah. One flower at a time.”

Noah stepped outside into the late morning light. The air fragrant with the freshly turned soil. Lia was crouched by the flowerbed. Dirt and leaves dotted her overalls, and her braid, slightly loosened from the morning’s work, was draped over one shoulder.

“Hey,” Noah called, approaching her.

Lia looked up, brushing a loose strand of hair from her flushed face with the back of her hand. Her cheeks were pink from the exertion and the sun, and her bare face, free of makeup, made Noah feel like he was standing in front of the girl he’d known since childhood. 

He was.

“Hey yourself,” she replied with a smile that made Noah’s chest tighten in the best of ways. “What’s up? Garden inspector here to critique my work?”

He chuckled, stopping a few steps away. Without thinking, he extended his coffee cup toward her. “I’ve already been inspecting from the kitchen,” he said, nodding toward the window behind him. “And there’s nothing to critique. You did an amazing job. This looks great.”

Lia narrowed her eyes playfully, taking the cup from his hand and sipping it without breaking eye contact. “You give me too much praise,” she murmured before setting the cup on the grass.

Noah shrugged. He would give her all the praise she wanted—as much as she asked for. All he wanted was to be as good for her as possible. If he wasn’t, he’d spend the rest of his life trying.

Lia rose to her feet, brushing dirt from her knees after handing back the cup. “So, what’s the plan now?”

He hesitated, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “Well, the hard work is done, right?”

“Pretty much. We’ll just need to water everything later,” she replied, casting a satisfied glance at the freshly planted flowerbeds, their colors vibrant under the late morning sun. 

“Good.” Noah said. “Can we talk for a minute?” 

Lia turned to him and blinked, her brows arching in surprise. “We’re talking.”

“Inside,” he clarified, his gaze steady but unreadable. 

Her head tilted, a playful incredulity lighting her face. “You know you can talk to me whenever you want, Noah. You don’t need a formal invitation.” 

“I know.” His lips quirked into a small smile. “Why don’t you go shower first and get cleaned up?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity breaking through her otherwise amused expression. “Okay… give me five minutes.” 

She bent to gather her gloves and trowel, casting a sidelong glance at him as she started toward the house. Her steps slowed, and she stopped just shy of the door, turning back to him. “Is everything okay, though?”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her, stepping closer. His hand reached out, his fingers catching the end of her braid. He twisted it between his fingers.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Twenty minutes later, after drying off, she wrapped a towel around herself, brushed her hair, and moisturized her skin. When she stepped into the bedroom, a wave of cool air brushed against her damp skin. The balcony doors were slightly ajar, and she spotted Noah outside leaning against the railing, his shoulders relaxed, his gaze distant. He looked lost in thought, and she hoped they were good ones.

From the wardrobe, she pulled out a pair of black leggings and an oversized gray sweater that, for once, wasn’t from Noah. Pulling on fluffy socks, she hung her towel to dry and tiptoed toward the balcony, tucking her hands into the long sleeves of her sweater.

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said.

Noah turned, smiling immediately. His eyes roved over her from head to toe. “You look cozy.”

She smiled shyly, stepping closer. Noah extended an arm toward her, beckoning.

“Come here,” he said, his voice strangely quiet. Low. 

Her brow furrowed slightly. “You’re acting weird—quieter than normal. Should I be worried?”

Noah shifted back slightly, as if offended. “I just want to hold you.”

“Alright...” she said, stepping into his arms. She pressed her cheek and damp hair against his chest, and his arms wrapped snugly around her waist. At the press of his body against hers, the cold seemed to magically vanish. 

“Not going to dry your hair?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

Lia tilted her head to look up at him. “So... what did you want to talk about?”

Noah hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the horizon before settling back on her face. 

“I noticed you’ve missed your meds for the last three days.”

Lia stiffened. Then pulled back. Noah loosened his hold, giving her space.

“What?” she stammered. His calm expression confused her and added to her suddenly rising panic. “I—I didn’t realize. I… I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know it wasn’t on purpose, and I’m not telling you this to scold you or anything.”

Her mind raced as she stepped toward the door. But before she could, Noah caught her arm.

“Hey, slow down, cheetah,” he said with a faint grin. “Where are you going?”

“To take my meds. Where else?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I’ve missed three doses in a row, Noah.”

“And?”

“And... that’s bad.”

“Is it?” He stepped closer, his expression soft but intent. “You’ve missed your meds for three days and look at you. You’re fine. No mood swings, nightmares, anxiety—nothing. It’s like your body is... not dependent on them anymore.”

Lia blinked, his words sinking in slowly but still struggling to adhere to her beliefs. “Is that... good?” she asked cautiously, almost afraid of the answer.

Noah started to nod but then stopped. “I think it is. But we should confirm with your doctor before we come to any conclusion. Still, three days without them and feeling as good as you have? That’s a big deal, Lia.”

She stared at him, tears welling in her eyes as the realization hit. 

“Are you going to cry?” He asked. His hands reached to her cheeks. “Baby, there’s no reason to—”

“I think I’m just panicking.”

“Look at me,” he cupped her face in his hands and moved his thumbs in a circular motion on her cheekbones. He closed the distance between them and bent a little to be at her same height. “Breathe with me. In and out. Good. There’s nothing to panic for. You didn’t take your meds for three days and you’re fine. You’re getting better, Lia.” 

She took a deep breath. As he said: in and out. The air felt heavy in her lungs. She focused on the rhythm he set, the way his breathing matched hers, and the warmth of his hands. The tightness in her chest loosened, like a taut string unwinding.

“You think I’m getting better?”

Noah’s thumbs brushed away the single tear that fell. “I don’t just think it—I know it. You’re getting there, baby. We’re getting there.”

“But what if it gets worse again when we’re back home?” she whispered, her voice trembling like a thread threatening to snap. 

“Then we’ll deal with it,” he said firmly. “One step at a time. But for now you’re okay. And that’s what matters.” He smiled, a small encouragement. The corners of her mouth twitched, caught between hesitation and the weight of her emotions. “How do you feel?”

“Umm,” she murmured, dropping her head a little, Noah’s hands still on her face.

“Aside from right now,” he clarified, his tone patient. “How have you felt these past few days?”

She thought back to the past few days, how her mornings felt softer and her days less cloudy. A teary but genuine smile broke through, fragile but real. “Lighter,” she answered. “Good. Happy.” 

And for the first time in a long time, she believed it might stay that way.

“No nightmares?”

“No nightmares.” She confirmed. 

“Just wet dreams?” he asked, his grin sly and unapologetic.

Her smile dissolved into a frown, her cheeks flushing scarlet. At the sight of his grin widening, she smacked his chest.

“I hope you know I won’t forget you owe me an explanation.”

“I know,” she said, embarrassed. Her thoughts were still tangled, the memory of the dream hazy yet vivid enough to send heat rushing to her cheeks despite the other emotions occupying her mind and heart.  

As Noah pulled Lia back into his arms, his giggles softened into a hum, blending with the soft rustling of the breeze. He kissed the crown of her head, letting his lips linger there as if trying to seal this fragile moment of peace into permanence. For a moment, they stood quietly on the balcony, the world reduced to the steady rhythm of their breathing and the comforting press of their bodies against one another.

“Do you want to go for a walk later?” Lia asked, her voice muffled against his hoodie. There was a soft hopefulness in her tone now.

He hummed in thought, swaying them gently. “Maybe. Or we could stay right here and just enjoy the day.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, an impish smile tugging at her lips. “What, you don’t want to scare more town kids into thinking you’re part of the Yakuza?”

Noah groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. 

The day before, they had strolled through town and they had stopped at a small park with wooden benches and cherry blossom trees to enjoy a hot drink and some snacks. Noah had casually rolled up his sleeves at some point. The tattoos winding up his forearms and on his neck gleamed in the light and drew the attention of a group of children playing nearby. For a long, awkward moment, the kids stared at him, wide-eyed, their game forgotten. Then, as though they’d reached a silent consensus, they scampered off, whispering to each other before running to their parents. He could still hear Lia’s barely suppressed laughter.

“You’re never letting that go, are you?” Noah asked, leveling a dry look at her.

“Never,” she teased, her laughter light and melodic. “I can never forget the way they ran off when you rolled up your sleeves and they saw your tattoos.”

He sighed, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. It brought him a unique happiness to see her overcome her fears and step bravely into the light. This was his girl, standing in front of him in his arms, and he was proud as hell of her. 

“They’re kids. They probably watch too many gangster movies,” he said with a shrug. “Just because I have tattoos doesn’t mean I’m a criminal.”

“Well,” Lia continued, her face shifting into something sly, “to be fair, Yakuza tattoos are kind of iconic. Full-body suits, intricate designs... Those men are something else entirely. And you’re tall, broody, mysterious, half Japanese,” she emphasized, raising a finger, “and… you’re fully tatted. You could totally pull it off.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “So, you think I look like I belong in the Japanese mafia? Great. That’s exactly how I planned to win you over.”

She giggled, her cheeks flushing as she leaned into him, her fingers idly playing with the string of his hoodie. “All of that’s just an added bonus,” she murmured, a hint of shyness slipping through her playful demeanor. “But you do know why they associate tattoos with the Yakuza, right?” 

“Do enlighten me,” he encouraged, his lips curving into a smirk as he watched her. 

“Okay, history time,” she began, poking his chest playfully. Noah gave her all his undivided attention. “Long time ago, tattoos in Japan were linked to criminals as a form of punishment. They’d mark convicts to show their crimes. But over time, the Yakuza adopted tattoos as a badge of pride and loyalty. It became a way to show their endurance, since the traditional method was done by hand with a needle. Brutal, huh?”

“Sounds intense,” Noah admitted, glancing down at the ink covering his hands and fingers. “Mine were done with a machine, and that hurt enough. Can’t imagine needles by hand.” He continued to ruminate before he said, “Should I keep them covered next time? To avoid scaring the kids off?”

“Of course not. It’s not your fault. You can’t help being accidentally intimidating. It’s part of your charm.”

“Accidentally intimidating,” he repeated, letting the words roll off his tongue as though he were trying them on for size. “Maybe I should’ve taken a page out of your book.”

“My book?” Lia asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you—”

Before she could finish, his hand slid under the hem of her sweatshirt, his fingers grazing the area of her skin that was covered in ink. “Like you,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, “keeping your tattoos hidden. No one’s running from you. I surely am not.”

Lia gasped, her breath catching as his fingers brushed the curve of her hip where the tail of her dragon tattoo began. “Noah,” she said, her voice wavering between a warning and a laugh as his thumb traced a delicate line along her side.

The sudden ticklish sensation caught her off guard. She squirmed in his arms, letting out a high-pitched yelp that only made him laugh louder. Her laughter joined his, bubbling up uncontrollably, the sound of it pure and unrestrained. She clung to him, her body wriggling, and soon they were both lost in the hilarity of the moment. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes as Noah held her tighter, swaying her against him, their laughter ringing out together.

This, he thought, was everything he had always wanted. Moments like this. With her. His girl.

As the laughter faded and the quiet settled in, Noah gently rubbed his cheek against the softness of her hair. He pressed his lips close to her ear.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he murmured, his words tender. “You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you, baby.”

— prev. chapter | chapter fifteen

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[supersquirrel1996]

Getting back into reading. I missed this one so bad. This was so cute.

[silent-stories]

x

[supersquirrel1996]

Its a dream of mine to see them live