#noah x toast

[darkenokami]

art dump time!!

[lovisyandereblog]

Eyes on Me

Yandere Submissive Stalker X GN Reader

Part 3! Probably last part….maybe

Part 1 and 2 here. Also guys Im so sorry for my mistakes in my last post! I accidentally used she/her pronouns in my writing, I genuinely didn’t even realise it. Im so sorry guys!!

7 weeks. It had been 7 long fucking weeks and you were still stuck here.

Noah had kept you captive for nearly two months now, but he never let you feel like you were one.

He would gift you things you wanted nearly everyday, Noah would cook your favourite dishes for you, he would shower you with love and affection, always making sure your every want and need was met.

All he asked for in return was your love…thats all he wanted.

And it seemed like you were slowly giving in.

What else could you do?! He was so adorable, so cute, so kind, so sweet…you were slowly becoming more lenient towards him.

For example, you weren’t kicking, hitting or screaming anymore. You were eating your food rather than throwing it away and yelling. And you were a bit more welcoming to his kisses, his soft and loving kisses.

Noah was also letting you roam free in his large house. You had an idea of who he was now. Noah was a very famous doctor, and was very wealthy. He was a psychiatrist who always treated his patients with care and love, never making them feel like they were a burden.

But although he let you roam the house freely, he never let you outside.

Creak…

The door opened and you stared at it, the same sweet smile you saw everyday greeting you.

“Good morning my love~!! Have you had a nice nights sleep?” Noah came closer to you, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead. You were so used to it at this point that you didn’t even bat your eye at his affection.

“ `Morning…” You mumbled as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, sitting up slowly.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the mornings~?” Noah said in a sing-song voice, twirling a piece of your y/c hair with his finger.

You tried to hide your blush as you turned your head away, “W-whatever…”

Noah chuckled and kissed your cheek again, “Come! Go get freshened up and lets have breakfast! I’ve asked the cook to make you your favourite french toast!”

He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to praise him. He practically lived for your praise and attention, but you would rarely give it to him.

“Oh..thank you Noah..Ill go get ready…” You murmured as you rushed to the toilet. Noah watched you go, hearts practically engrained in his eyes. For you. Just for you~

At the breakfast table, Noah was staring at you lovingly as he fed you the toast.

“I can feed myself…” You tried to protest, but he whined.

“P-please! Please let me Y/N…Im begging you~” His eyes were so cute, you just couldn’t help but give into his pleads.

“Fine..just stop looking at me like that…” You replied hastily, and he immediately brightened up and went straight back to feeding you.

After your 5th or 6th bite, you started feeling quite full, putting your hand up to stop the bite in Noah’s hand to come near your mouth. He nodded and ate the bite himself, smiling at you with such a lovesick grin.

You swallow nervously, looking at him. You had to ask him a question really badly, it was really important, “Noah?”

“Yes my angel, my love, my darling~?” Noah answered, hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. You had to keep yourself from smiling at his cheesy terms of endearment.

“Can you please let me go outside? I haven’t seen the outside world in like 2 months…” You complained, making him frown immediately and look away.

“Y-Y/N, you know how sorry I am…I feel so guilty baby…” Tears already filled his eyes as he spoke, making you sigh as you always gave into his tears.

“But…but I can’t let you go…Im scared you’re going to leave me. I can’t live without you my love…I’ll die!” Noah started to cry, holding your hands and bringing it to his heart. On the inside, he knew he was manipulating you but what else could he do?! He genuinely did love you so so much.

He loved you to the point of obsession.

You thought to yourself as you just stared at him, he sniffed and gave you puppy eyes. You knew you had to do something in order to get out of this place, otherwise he’d just keep you locked up forever. You wanted your life back and you knew just how to do it.

It involved giving into Noah’s love in order to regain your freedom. There was no other way. You had tried to escape in the past but he always…always found you.

“Noah…if I become your..partner..will you let me have more freedom?” You asked, and he immediately jumped up, looking at you hopefully.

“Y-Y/N?! Are….are you being serious?!” Noah couldn’t believe it, all his hard work finally paid off. You would finally be all his.

“Yes Noah, I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to start a relationship with you, but you have to promise you’ll let me go-” You had barely finished your sentence when he suddenly fainted, making you let out a loud scream.

You immediately went on your knees, cradling him in your lap as you tried to nudge him awake.

‘What the fuck??’ You thought to yourself as you check his pulse and sighed in relief when it’s normal.

“Now what am I to do with you…” You mumble to yourself before a plan comes to mind.

Paybacks a bitch…

Noah woke up with a groan, his eyes slowly opening yet his sight was still hazy.

‘What happened…?’ He thought to himself as he tried to sit up, but his eyes widened when he couldn’t move. He looked up and saw his wrists were tied together and attached to the headboard of the bed. To add to this, his ankles were tied to the bottom poles of the bed. He looked down and noticed he was now wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt.

He thrashed around, trying to get out of his restraints to no avail. This couldn’t be happening. Where the hell were you?!

Noah began to sob and panic as millions of thoughts raced through his poor little head. He started to think of how you had left him and he’d never see you again.

“Y/N!! P-PLE-HIC-PLEASEE I’M S-SORRY…DON’T L-LEAVE ME…I’LL DIE W-HIC-WITHOUT YOU!!!” He was genuinely going crazy without you, where did you go?? Why would you leave him? Was he not good enough?! He’d change for you—he will; just give him a chance!!

“Y/N!! C-COME BA—” His words were cut off by you suddenly placing a hand over his mouth, “Shut the fuck up,” You seethed, glaring at him as he looked up at you with teary blue eyes.

Where you came from, he didn’t know but he was just happy that you were here. Although he was genuinely scared from how angry you looked, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that you hadn’t left. He was so delusional that he thought you had came back for him❤️❤️❤️ (A/N he’s so weird I love him)

But he also had a little problem because of you on top of him; all of his fantasies were coming true. Oh god just ruin him already!!

He whined against your hand and tried to buck his hips up, making you grip onto his mouth even harder, “I said shut up you fucking brat, can’t listen to simple instructions?”

The mix of your strong body on top of him and your cruel words made the poor boy’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his back arched; pathetic moans leaving him.

No way….did he just….?

You look down and saw a wet patch forming on his crotch, you internally smirked at how much of an effect you had on him but you had to keep up your strict persona, “Did you just fucking cum, you slut?”

Noah panicked, his pretty eyes filling with even more tears as he shakes his head “no,” worried that you’d be disgusted with him. (He secretly wanted you to treat him like trash)

But could you blame him for cumming?? You were literally on top of him looking as beautiful as ever, whispering demeaning words at him and you expected him not to cum?

“Mmm…n-not a s-slut…” He tried to mumble against your hand, looking at you with such love in his eyes. You nearly felt bad for him.

You suddenly slap him on the face, making him whine out in pain and pleasure as he breathed heavily from the release of his mouth from your hand. You took a second to admire the sight below you:

His blonde locks were messy, bangs sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were all rosy and wet with tears as was his mouth which was covered in his drool. Noah’s big blue eyes were looking to the side, embarrassed to face you as he bit his pretty pink lips.

You gripped his hair roughly, making him whine out, “Did I say you could talk back? Did I say you could fucking look away?”

He shook his head frantically, mentally face palming himself for disobeying you, “N-no! No…‘mm sorry!! S-sorry…please…”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it pretty boy…I think I need to teach you a lesson hmm? For all the bad things you did…” You leaned in close to his ear and he could feel his dick harden again from your proximity, “….for kidnapping me, keeping me locked up here…you’ve been a bad boy haven’t you~?”

Noah had started to sob, tears cascading down his adorable pink cheeks; he didn’t want to be a bad boy!! He wanted to be good, so good, for you!

“N-no! Mm so-sorry!! I’m n-not a bad boy! I-I’m a g-good boy…your good boy!!” He desperately begged, looking up at you in hopes you’d believe him. He knew what he had done was wrong but his intentions were never bad, he promises!!

You couldn’t help the heat pooling in your lower stomach from the way he was begging, god his desperation was so hot. So what if he was a deranged, psychotic, obsessive lunatic? He was cute!!

“But you haven’t proven to me you’re a good boy…so a punishment is really needed~” You said with a devilish smirk forming on your face, making both his heartbeats race (if you get what I mean💀💀)

You lean over and open one of the drawers, an assortment of items you had bought while he had been unconscious. His eyes widened in fear and excitement as he saw you bring a ball gag to his mouth, “Mmnnoo!! Y-Y/N!!” He tried to beg but you had already sealed his mouth shut.

Then you proceeded to pick up a remote like device you bought, Noah looked at it in confusion while tilting his head. You smirked at how adorable he looked, he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.

With the click of a button, Noah’s back arched as he felt pleasure coursing through his body. He hadn’t even realised that a vibrator was lodged inside him! You must have put it in while he was unconscious.

“MMMNNGGH~!” He moaned against the gag, his body twisting and shaking, poor little baby was so sensitive!

You turned the vibrator off and he slumped down, his chest heaving, “Now for your punishment, I’m going to leave you here with that vibrator on and you’re going to cum over and over again until I’m satisfied, do you understand?”

Noah’s eyes widened and he shook his head profusely. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to feel you, to touch you, to have you make him feel good; not this stupid toy!

He also didn’t want to be alone, he felt like he’d die if you weren’t near him so he began to cry, “N-noooo!! Mmm stayy!” His voice came out muffle which only made you smirk even more.

It was evident you were a sadist; seeing him whine and beg like that really turned you on. However you were doing this also to make sure it was engrained in his head who was in charge: you. It was to make sure he’d never pull a stunt like this again and would also prove his obedience to you.

“You said you wanted to be my good boy didn’t you Noah~? So be a good boy and take it.” You said sternly, turning the vibrator on once more before walking out of the room, leaving the door open a little bit so you’d hear him.

His moans and cries followed you as he begged for you to come back, but with the gag in his mouth he could only do so much.

Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came again with a cry, his boxers were now dirty with his jizz. He sobbed as the vibrations bullied his poor prostrate, he wanted you to make it feel better, please come back!

And then he came for the third time, and the fourth and then the fifth. It felt like hours had gone by (it had only been 30 minutes) since you left him in this state; his whole body was shaking as his hips bucked to try and get away from the vibrations but to no avail.

“Nnnngghh~!! ‘S t-too m-much…too much!” He whined, mainly to himself but it came out as mixed garbles.

You finally graced him with your presence and entered the room, your own arousal building up at the sight of him. But you also felt pity on him, it was clear that he had never felt the touch of anyone his entire life—let alone come numerous amounts of times!

He hadn’t noticed you came in yet, his mind was all foggy and hazy; the only thing he could focus on was the vibrations in his ass.

You say next to him and his head immediately darted towards you, tears pooled his eyes and he begged you to make it stop, “P-pleasshh~” He tried to say but the gag and the tormenting toy stopped him from being able to vocalise himself.

You cooed at him and turned the vibrations to the lowest level, yet not quite turning it off yet, “Have you learnt your lesson~?” You ask, and he nods eagerly and tries to get closer to you: to feel your comfort, your warmth, your affection, your love~

You take mercy on him and take out the gag since it was clearly hurting his jaw, he lets out a moan of relief as incoherent ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ leave his mouth.

“Shhh…it’s okay, I’ve got you~” You whisper in his ear, you gently take his underwear off and take the vibrator out, making him whine, “Mmmh…s-sensitive..ahhnngh~”

He gave you such adorable eyes, pleading for you to make him feel better so you cupped his face, “Don’t worry, I’ll take all the pain away, I promise…you’re my good boy right~?”

As soon as he heard the words, “Good boy,” he immediately nodded like a mad-man, “Mmm your good boy! P-please…please…y-yours…”

You could tell he was extremely exhausted from the torment you put him through, so you untied his wrists and ankles which made him cling onto you like a spider monkey; you let out a soft chuckle, “Noah…you have to let me go…I need to clean you up…”

“N-no! D-don’t go…please…” Tears pooled his eyes yet again, making you coo at him which he melted to.

“Shhh…alright, we can cuddle for a bit but then I have to clean you okay~?” You wrapped your arms around his waist aswell, being careful not to touch his very sensitive lower body.

Noah could still feel the tingles and electricity coursing through his body, but once you held him in your arms—he felt all that pain go away. He snuggled further into you, his face buried in your neck.

“I love you so much…I love you Y/N..” He mumbled against your skin, kissing it softly.

And you found yourself saying something you’d never imagine saying the first day you met him;

“I love you too Noah~”

Ahhhh! Finally finished this!!

—>my masterlist <3

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[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: You are always cold and blunt, but when Noah needs you, you show him a side of you that’s unexpectedly tender.

Tw: just fluff and taking care of a sick noah

You had been working with Bad Omens for a while now. It started as a way to get your foot in the door of the music industry, but quickly turned into a full-time thing. Touring, managing logistics, keeping the band in line, and occasionally making sure they didn't break anything or burn down a hotel room.

When you first started living with them, it didn’t take long for them to figure out that you were a sharp mix of sarcasm, gruffness, and blunt honesty. You didn’t sugarcoat things. If they looked ridiculous, you told them. If they were being annoying, you let them know. But despite your icy, sometimes cold demeanor, the band still loved you. You weren’t a big talker about your emotions, but they all knew you cared, in your own way.

Noah, though? He was different. He didn’t just take your sarcasm; he leaned into it, shyly flirting with you whenever he could.

Like that time in the kitchen when he walked in wearing a pair of jeans that were, unsurprisingly, too short to reach his ankles. He rifled through the cabinets for cereal, oblivious to the way you were staring at him over your coffee.

“You know,” you said, setting your mug down, “one day, you’re going to buy pants that actually fit, and it’s going to change your life.”

Noah froze mid-reach, turning to look at you with a confused expression. “What’s wrong with my pants?”

“They don’t cover your ankles, for starters.” You gestured toward his legs with a mocking smile. “Is it a fashion statement, or are you just bad at shopping?”

“I’m tall,” he protested, as if that explained everything.

“You’re not that tall.”

“I’m six three!” he said, indignant.

“Congratulations, Noah,” you deadpanned. “You’re the same height as many other tall guys in the world. Buy bigger pants.”

The rest of the band, who had wandered in during this exchange, immediately lost it. Folio was laughing so hard he had to lean against the counter, and Jolly just shook his head with a grin.

“You’re so mean,” Noah muttered, grabbing his cereal and retreating to the couch, his ears turning pink as the guys teased him relentlessly.

“Someone’s gotta tell you the truth,” you called after him. “Clearly, your friends aren’t doing it.”

But you knew Noah didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it in his own awkward way, even if the guys never let him live it down.

And then there was that other time in the living room. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Noah plopped down next to you. He shifted to face you, his signature hesitant smile already in place.

“So,” he began, leaning in slightly, “if I asked you to go out with me, what are the chances you’d say yes?”

You didn’t even look up. “Zero.”

“Not even one percent?”

“Not even half a percent,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Why? You planning to impress me with your ability to burn toast again?”

The band, as always, burst into laughter. Noah groaned, running a hand through his hair, but you caught the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was used to this by now.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You’re predictable,” you shot back, setting your phone down. “Every time you try to flirt, it ends up in a disaster."

He laughed despite himself, his cheeks flushing pink. “Maybe one day I’ll surprise you.”

“Doubt it,” you said with a smirk, though you couldn’t deny the warmth in his voice made your chest tighten just a little.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. Another time, the two of you had been sitting on the porch late at night, the house unusually quiet for once. Noah was writing something in a notebook, probably working on some ideas for a new song, his brows furrowed in concentration, while you sipped on a drink.

After a while, Noah looked up, noticing you looking like you were lost in thought. “What’s going on? You seem quiet tonight.”

You shrugged. “I was thinking about picking up some of those cupcakes from that new bakery in town. Some of you guys mentioned you wanted to try them, so I might as well bring some back for everyone.”

Noah grinned. “Wait, you’re actually going to do something nice like that?”

You shot him a playful glare. “What, you think I’m incapable of being nice?”

"No, it's just..." He hesitated, looking at you for a moment, "nevermind. I think they would appreciate that."

You raised an eyebrow. “What about you, though? What’s your favorite flavor?”

Noah hesitated again, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “If I tell you, you’ll just pick all of them except that one.”

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. Just tell me, for fuck’s sake. I’m not going to sabotage the cupcake choices.”

He chuckled. “Fine. The one with the white sparkles on top. Now I’m sure this is the only one I won’t even see in the box.”

You smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll get one just for you.”

He shyly looked away but you were sure he didn't really believe you.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice soft, “you can be really sweet when you’re not roasting me in front of everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, yeah? And when exactly am I not roasting you?”

“Right now,” he said, looking up at you with a shy smile.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he said, his grin growing wider. “I’ll take what I can get.”

That night, you sat on the porch with him until it got too cold.

A couple of days later, you came home with a big box of cupcakes, the band cheered just at the sight of it. Folio kissed you on the cheek, surprising you as everyone gathered around the box like kids.

"Seriously man?" You looked at Folio.

"Ops."

Noah, leaning against the counter, had no expectation of seeing the cupcake with the white sparkles, thinking you probably even forgot that coversation. He watched as you opened the box, and there it was, right in the middle. You handed it to him, and his eyes softened in surprise.

He took the cupcake from your hand, a small smile spreading across his face. “Thank you.”

"I promised. Didn't I?" You just said.

And then, of course, there was that night in the living room when the guys called you out. The TV was on in the background, but no one was really watching it. Nick leaned back in his chair, smirking as he watched Noah sit next to you on the couch.

“You two ever gonna stop this weird flirting slash bullying thing and just kiss already?” Nick asked.

Noah nearly choked on his drink, and you shot him a withering glare. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not really,” he said, unfazed. “But seriously, Noah’s been crushing on you for months, and you just keep shutting him down. Give the poor guy a break.”

Noah groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can you not?”

“You’re all delusional,” you said flatly, crossing your arms. “This isn’t flirting. This is me tolerating him.”

“Sure it is,” Nick said, grinning. “That’s why you always smile whenever you roast him.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t bother denying it. Noah peeked at you from between his fingers, his cheeks still flushed, and you sighed.

“You’re all idiots,” you muttered, grabbing your phone and walking out of the room.

But as you left, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Because despite your sharp tongue and cold comments, you knew that you cared about him. You cared about all of them but with Noah it had always been different.

And then, there was the time Noah got sick.

It had been a long day. You’d been out since the morning with a friend, running errands, getting things done, and by the time you finally made it home, it was late afternoon. You kicked off your shoes and threw your bag on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief as you sank into the cushions.

It was quieter than usual. You glanced around, expecting to see Noah lurking somewhere nearby, like he always did—sitting on the counter, hanging out in the living room, always popping up like a cat in need of attention. But today, there was no sign of him.

You raised an eyebrow, a little puzzled. It was weird that he wasn’t around. It had been hours, and you figured he’d at least come say hi. He was always around. He was probably just in his room working on some new music, you thought.

“Hey, Nick,” you called out, when he enetered the living room. “Have you seen Noah?”

Nicholas glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Oh, uh, this morning he wasn’t feeling great. Said he had a bit of a fever and just kind of stayed in his room after that. He’s probably asleep.”

You froze for a second, immediately feeling a knot form in your stomach. Noah never liked to admit when he was sick, but you couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually stayed in his room like this.

“Okay,” you said, but your voice felt off, the concern creeping into your words. “Thanks.”

You didn’t hesitate. Your feet carried you quickly down the hallway to Noah’s door, and your hand was already on the knob before you realized it. You knocked, but when there was no response, you opened the door quietly, peering inside. The blinds were drawn, and the room was dimly lit, but Noah was laying on his bed, curled up under blankets.

The sight of him immediately set off alarm bells in your head. He looked... pale, almost ghostly, and he was barely moving. His breathing was shallow, and his hair stuck to his forehead. The moment he noticed you standing there, his eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, as if trying to focus.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse and weak, barely above a whisper.

You walked over slowly, concern heavy in your chest. “I’m just checking on you,” you said softly, walking closer to his bed.

You crouched down beside him, reaching out to touch his forehead. The heat radiating off his skin made your heart drop. He was burning up. The soft shiver of his body confirmed the fever.

“You’re hot,” you said, your voice betraying the concern you didn’t bother to hide.

"Finally you admit it." He murmured.

You rolled your eyes. “No, you’re burning up,” you said, your hand gently brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Did you take anything for it?”

He shook his head weakly, looking almost embarrassed. “No, I... I didn’t think it was that bad.”

You let out a breath. “Noah, you’ve probably had a fever for hours. You’re not okay.” Without waiting for him to protest, you stood up, “I’m going to make you take some paracetamol, alright?”

He didn't respond, and you weren't even sure if he registered what you said. When you returned with a glass of water where you had dissolved the medicine, Noah looked up at you with droopy eyes. His pale face looked even more fragile in the dim light, and you could see how exhausted he was, barely able to keep his eyes open.

He tried to sit up, but his arms trembled, unable to sustain him. He swore under his breath, wincing as the strain pulled at his muscles, too weak to follow through on the effort.

"It's okay. Here." You quickly moved to his side, one hand gently supporting his back while you propped him up. His head rested heavily against your shoulder, and you felt a tightness in your chest as you steadied him.

His brown eyes fluttered, looking at you through half-lidded, his expression soft with confusion and exhaustion.

You moved slowly, carefully, making sure he was comfortable before grabbing the glass of water from the nightstand. You held it up, making sure to keep it steady as you brought it closer to him.

His gaze met yours for a brief moment. It was almost as if he didn’t expect you to be so gentle with him, yet here you were, taking care of him without hesitation.

You placed the glass against his lips, guiding it toward his mouth. “Come on, Noah, you need to drink this,” you said, your voice soft but firm. His lips parted weakly as he took a small sip, the medicine sliding down his throat, though he barely seemed able to swallow.

His hands trembled as he gripped the glass, trying to help, but it was clear how difficult it was for him.

You supported the glass, steadying it in his hands, urging him gently, as your other hand still rested on his back, softly caressing it in slow, reassuring motions.

“Just a little more,” you coaxed, watching as he weakly took another sip, his body shuddering slightly from the effort. When he pulled away, you pulled the glass back, but your eyes never left him.

He gave you a tired, almost apologetic glance as he let his head rest back against the pillow, his body sinking deeper into the blankets.

His lips parted in a soft sigh, and you smiled faintly, brushing his hair from his forehead again, your thumb gently rubbing his temple for a moment. It was a quiet gesture, one that said more than words could express, as you continued to sit beside him.

A few minutes passed, and then, in a voice barely audible, he murmured, “I knew you were sweet.”

You smiled softly, a warmth spreading through you at the simple, quiet words. You leaned down, letting your hand go through his hair, murmuring, “I knew you knew.”

He let out a soft sigh, his breathing finally evening out as he fell deeper into sleep.

You stayed there with him for hours, the quiet of the room broken only by the soft hum of the house around you. You let your hand gently run through his hair, the touch almost rhythmic as you tried to soothe him.

Every so often, you’d press your hand to his forehead, checking if the fever had gone down at all, the heat still radiating off his skin, but a little less intense.

Every time his body shifted or he made a faint sound, probably from some fever-induced dream, you softly spoke his name or whispered a quiet, reassuring phrase, just trying to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

"You're okay," you murmured gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead when his brow furrowed slightly. "Just rest, Noah. You’re gonna be fine."

There was something incredibly tender about the way his breath would catch, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids, almost as though he could hear your voice even in his sleep. It made your chest ache in a way you didn’t know how to explain.

Noah shifted in his sleep, his body instinctively leaning closer until his face pressed gently against your side. The soft, unconscious gesture made your chest tighten, but you didn’t move. Instead, you noticed the blanket had slipped from his shoulder, leaving him partially uncovered. With careful hands, you pulled it back up, tucking it around him securely. Your fingers brushed lightly against his hairline as you settled back, letting him stay close.

As the evening drew on and his breathing steadied, the fever seemed to break a little. You let your fingers linger over his temple, softly caressing his arm when you noticed the tremble in his hand. It felt like such an intimate moment, one where all the usual sarcasm, sharp words, and teasing were left behind, replaced by something quiet, simple, and real.

Your fingers traced over his knuckles as you kept his tattoed hand in yours before you gently leaned down, brushing your lips against his forehead. You pulled away just as quickly, unsure of what had made you do it—maybe it was the tenderness of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet realization that despite all the banter, despite everything you’d told him, you cared about him more than you ever showed.

Wild for the girl who acted like a bitch all the time, right?

But in that moment, with Noah asleep and calmer than he’d been all day, you couldn’t care less about how it seemed or your usual weird ways of protecting your feelings. You just wanted him to feel better, to know that, despite all your sharp words and sarcastic remarks, there was no place you’d rather be than right there beside him, making sure he was okay.

And for once, you let yourself believe that maybe he knew exactly what you meant when you said, "I'm here, Noah. I'm not gonna leave."

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 11

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2904 Click here for Part 10

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The day of Lando and Y/N’s wedding was everything they had hoped for: simple, intimate and filled with the people they loved most. The ceremony took place at a picturesque estate surrounded by gardens with a gentle breeze.

Lando stood at the altar, his best man, Max, stood beside him, a wide grin on his face as he gave Lando an encouraging pat on the back. The McLaren team was there, along with many of the F1 drivers, all gathered to celebrate this special day with their friend.

Y/N walked down the aisle and Lando’s breath caught in his throat. She looked breathtaking in her simple, elegant gown, her eyes locked on his as she made her way toward him. Noah was the ring bearer and he walked proudly ahead of her, holding the pillow with the rings carefully in his small hands.

The ceremony was beautiful, filled with heartfelt vows and promises of love and support. When they exchanged rings there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Noah stood close by, beaming with pride at his parents.

As dinner came to an end Max stood up to give his toast. He spoke about how he had seen Lando grow, both as a person and a driver and how meeting Y/N had only made him better. He joked about how he never thought he’d see the day when Lando would settle down but that Y/N had changed everything. When it was Y/N’s turn she stood with a glass in her hand. The room grew quiet as everyone waited for her to speak.

“I want to thank you all for being here with us today,” she began, her voice filled with emotion. “It means the world to us to have our family and friends here to celebrate our love. Lando and I have been on an incredible journey together and today is just the beginning of a new chapter.”

She paused, looking at Lando with a loving smile. “And as some of you might have noticed, I’m not drinking champagne tonight. That’s because…” She looked at Lando, her eyes shining with excitement.

Lando grinned, unable to hold back. “That’s because we’re expecting,” he announced, his voice full of pride and happiness.

There was a moment of stunned silence before the room erupted into cheers and applause. The drivers let out a few loud whoops and the McLaren team exchanged excited looks and pats on the back. Max stared at Lando and Y/N in shock before his face broke into a huge grin.

“I knew you two were up to something,” Max laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Congratulations, mate! That’s amazing news!”

Noah, who had been sitting at the table with his grandparents, beamed excitedly. He had known about the baby for a while and was thrilled that everyone else finally knew too. He jumped up from his seat and ran over to Lando and Y/N, hugging them tightly.

“I’m going to love the baby so much,” Noah declared proudly, looking up at his parents with bright eyes.

Y/N knelt down to hug him back, tears of joy in her eyes. “We know you will, Noah. You’re going to be an amazing big brother.”

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, congratulations and well wishes. The drivers joked about what the baby’s first words would be - something car-related, they all agreed - and the McLaren team started placing bets on when Lando would have the little one behind the wheel of a go-kart.

Lando and Y/N took to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. They swayed to the music, holding each other close, their hearts full of love and anticipation for the future. Their family was growing and so was their happiness. It was the perfect beginning to their new life together.

When the applause and cheers subsided Y/N and Lando were surrounded by friends and family eager to offer their congratulations. Max was the first to reach them, his face still lit up with shock and excitement.

“Lando, mate, you’ve been holding out on me,” Max exclaimed, pulling Lando into a tight hug. “I knew something was different, but this… this is incredible!” He pulled back, looking between Lando and Y/N with a grin. “So, when did you guys find out? You’ve been keeping this secret for how long?”

“We found out a few weeks ago,” Lando laughed, a little sheepishly, “but we wanted to wait for the right moment to tell everyone and today seemed like the perfect time.”

Max shook his head in amazement. “Well, you definitely know how to drop a bombshell! I’m just glad I didn’t say anything too wild in my speech.” He turned to Y/N, his tone softening. “Seriously, congratulations, Y/N. You’ve made this guy the happiest I’ve ever seen him. And now, with a baby on the way… it’s just perfect.”

Y/N smiled warmly, hugging Max. “Thank you, Max. We’re so happy you’re here to share this with us.”

As Max stepped aside, Cisca and Adam Norris approached, their faces glowing with pride and joy. Cisca was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.

“Oh, this is such wonderful news,” Cisca said, embracing Y/N tightly. “I’m so happy for both of you. Another grandchild! And on your wedding day, what a perfect gift.”

Adam nodded, a proud smile on his face as he pulled Lando into a hug. “You’ve done well, son. You’ve found yourself a wonderful partner and now you’re starting a family. We couldn’t be more thrilled for you both.”

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mum. It means a lot to have your support.”

Cisca turned to Noah, who had been standing proudly beside his parents. She crouched down to his level, her eyes sparkling. “And you, Noah! You’re going to be a big brother! How do you feel about that?”

Noah grinned from ear to ear. “I’m so excited, Grandma! I’m going to teach the baby everything I know.”

“I’m sure you will, darling. You’re going to be a wonderful big brother,” Cisca laughed, pulling Noah into a warm hug. 

Adam ruffled Noah’s hair softly and grinned. “You’ll have to show them how to drive, too. Maybe we’ll have another racing prodigy in the family!”

As the family shared in the moment, Oscar made his way over, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a look of genuine excitement. “Wow, Lando, Y/N, congratulations! This is amazing news,” Oscar said, shaking Lando’s hand and then giving Y/N a gentle hug. “I had no idea you guys were expecting. You really kept this one under wraps!”

Y/N laughed. “It wasn’t easy, especially with all the race weekends and the cameras everywhere but we managed!”

“Well, I’m really happy for you both. And Noah, you’re going to be the coolest big brother ever.”

Noah puffed out his chest with pride. “I know, right?”

The group shared a laugh before Oscar continued, “You know, Lando, you’re going to have to start thinking about baby names now. And don’t even think about naming them after a racing circuit.”

Lando chuckled, exchanging a playful look with Y/N. “No Zandvoort or Monaco, then? What about Imola?”

“Absolutely not!” Y/N almost shouted but smirking. “We’ll pick something a little more traditional, I think.”

_______

Lando, Y/N, and Noah were sitting together in their living room, the excitement of the baby’s impending arrival filling the air. Max was with them, sensing something special was about to happen but not entirely sure what.

“Max,” Lando started, “we’ve been meaning to talk to you about something really important.”

Noah, nearly bursting with excitement, handed Max a small, wrapped box. “Here, Uncle Max! Open it!”

Max, curious and motivated by Noah’s enthusiasm, took the box and carefully unwrapped it. Inside, he found a small, elegant frame with an ultrasound photo. Written underneath the photo were the words, “My name is Maebry. Will you be my godfather?”

Max’s expression softened immediately. He read the words, his eyes lingering on the name, and then he looked up at Lando and Y/N, visibly moved. “Maebry… That’s such a beautiful name,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you want me to be her godfather?”

“We can’t think of anyone better, Max. You’ve always been there for us and we know you’ll be there for her too.”

“You’re family to us, Max,” Lando, feeling the weight of the moment, added. “We know you’ll be an amazing godfather, someone Maebry can look up to and rely on. It would mean the world to us.”

Max swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears. He looked down at the frame again, his fingers tracing the words. “I… I don’t even know what to say. I’m so honored that you’d ask me. Maebry’s not even here yet and I already feel like she’s going to change my life.”

Noah, sensing Max’s emotion, quickly climbed up onto the couch next to him and let his tiny arms wrap themselves around his neck. “We love you, Uncle Max. Maebry’s going to love you too.”

“I love you guys too. And I promise, I’ll be the best godfather I can be. I’ll always be there for her, for all of you.”

Lando, also feeling emotional, reached over and placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Thank you, mate. This means so much to us.”

Max finally let the tears fall. He had never felt so overwhelmed but happy before. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I can’t wait to meet Maebry and be a part of her life.”

______

The day had finally arrived and the anticipation was palpable. Y/N had been feeling contractions throughout the night but as dawn broke they became more intense and frequent. Lando was at her side, doing his best to remain calm but his nerves were getting the better of him. His fingers fidgeted, his foot tapped anxiously and every time Y/N winced, he felt a surge of worry.

“You’re doing great, love,” Lando whispered, though his voice betrayed his own anxiety. He brushed a stray hair from her face and squeezed her hand, trying to be her rock even as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

Y/N smiled weakly, sensing his nerves. “We’ve got this, Lando. Everything’s going to be fine.”

He nodded, but the knot in his stomach didn’t ease. Lando had been through countless high-pressure situations on the track but this was different. This was their child, their family and the weight of that responsibility was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Meanwhile, Noah was back at home with his grandparents, Cisca and Adam. They were doing their best to keep him entertained but nothing could fully distract him from the excitement bubbling up inside him. He had been talking about becoming a big brother for months and now that the moment was here, he could hardly sit still.

“Is she here yet? Is Maebry here?” Noah asked for the umpteenth time, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Cisca said gently, ruffling his hair. “But it won’t be long now. How about we draw a picture for her while we wait?”

Noah nodded eagerly, grabbing his crayons and paper. As he worked on his drawing his mind raced with thoughts of what it would be like to have a little sister. He imagined all the things he would teach her, all the games they would play and how he would protect her no matter what.

Back at the hospital, the hours seemed to stretch on endlessly. Lando did his best to keep Y/N comfortable, fetching ice chips, adjusting pillows, and holding her hand through every contraction. But beneath it all, he was a bundle of nerves, worried about everything going perfectly.

As Y/N’s contractions grew closer together the medical team prepared for delivery. Lando stood by her side, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the strain on her face and it made him feel helpless. He wanted to take her pain away, to make it easier for her but all he could do was be there.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the first cries of their newborn daughter, Maebry.

“She’s here,” Lando choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. The nurse placed Maebry on Y/N’s chest and Lando leaned down to kiss her forehead, overwhelmed with love and relief.

Y/N’s face softened as she looked down at Maebry, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She’s perfect,” she whispered, brushing her finger along Maebry’s tiny hand.

Lando nodded, unable to find his voice. He simply watched in awe as Y/N held their daughter, the magnitude of the moment hitting him like a tidal wave. This was his family, his life and it was more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Y/N gently handed Maebry over to Lando. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding.

Lando looked down at Maebry, who was nestled snugly in the soft hospital blanket. Her tiny face, with its delicate features, was now in his arms. His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted his hold, ensuring she was secure and comfortable. The weight of her small, fragile body was so different from the confident, adventurous Noah he had met when he was already four years old. The experience of holding his own child was new, a feeling he hadn’t fully anticipated.

He studied her intently, his eyes tracing the curve of her tiny nose and the delicate flutter of her lashes. She had the same dark hair as him and could see soft, tiny curls already forming on her head. Maebry’s warmth seeped into him, a sensation so intimate and different from anything he had ever felt before. The love he felt for her was immediate and overwhelming, an intense bond that seemed to envelop him.

Lando glanced over at Y/N, who watched with a soft smile, her eyes filled with pride and happiness. “She’s so tiny,” he whispered, almost as if speaking to himself. “I never imagined it would feel like this.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

Lando’s gaze returned to Maebry, his heart swelling with emotion. “Yeah, she is.”

As he gently rocked her in his arms he thought back to when he first met Noah. He remembered the excitement and uncertainty of becoming a father figure for the first time. Holding Noah and being there for him had been a life-changing experience but this was different. This was his daughter, a new chapter in their lives. The love he felt for Maebry was profound but it didn’t diminish the love he had for Noah. In fact, it only added to it.

Meanwhile, Cisca and Adam were preparing to bring Noah to the hospital. When they finally told him the news his eyes lit up with pure excitement. “Is she really here? Can I meet her now?”

“Yes, she’s here,” Adam said with a smile, taking Noah’s hand. “And she’s waiting to meet her big brother.”

When they arrived at the hospital Noah practically buzzed, his little feet moving quickly as he walked with his grandparents. He couldn’t wait to see his baby sister, to hold her and tell her all the things he had been saving up to share.

When they reached Y/N’s room, Lando looked up and smiled, his face still flushed with emotion. “Hey, buddy,” he said, waving Noah over. “Come meet your little sister.”

Noah’s breath caught as he approached the bed. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of Maebry nestled in Y/N’s arms. For a moment, he simply stood there, his mouth slightly open in awe.

“She’s so tiny,” Noah finally exclaimed, inching closer to get a better look.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling as she watched the wonder in Noah’s eyes. “She is. And she’s so lucky to have you as her big brother.”

Cisca and Adam watched from the doorway, pride evident on their faces as they witnessed the first moments between their grandchildren. Lando gently lifted Noah onto the bed so he could get a better view of the baby.

“Hi, Maebry,” Noah whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I’m your big brother. I’m going to take care of you, okay?” 

He reached out cautiously, his little hand gently brushing against Maebry’s tiny fingers. She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment.

“She’s looking at me,” Noah gasped, his excitement bubbling over.

Y/N smiled, feeling tears of joy prick her eyes. “She knows who you are, Noah. She knows you’re her big brother.”

In that moment, Lando felt his nerves finally settle, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace. Their family was complete and the love that filled the room was more than he could have ever hoped for.

When they all gathered around Maebry, Lando looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with nothing but devotion. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice choking with emotion.

Y/N nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. “We did and it’s perfect.”

Noah leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving his sister. “Welcome to the family, Maebry,” he whispered, his voice full of love.

______

Stay tuned for the last one, Part 12!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch @cherry-piee @wisestarfishbouquet

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 2).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies ->playlist, part 1, part 2, part 3

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 3.2k

Dividers: Silent-stories.

It's a Friday night, in Vegas no less, and instead of being out on the strip, Sloan has dragged you to the hotel bar.

"Is there a reason for why we're in here and not out on the strip right now?"

"Because, the night is young and there are plenty of hot people here for you to mingle with." She says, nudging your hip. You look out at the sea of people and make a face, using your glass to hide it from Sloan's view while taking a sip of your drink, as you make your way through them from the bar to a booth. 

You hadn't come here seeking a hookup, instead, you wanted a chance to clear your head. However, that had become impossible since the reason for your mental turmoil was now occupying the room next door.

You fall into the booth with a huff, moving over for Sloan to scoot in beside you as she leans in closer to speak to you over the music.

"You know what they say, to get over someone you need to—"

"Don't you dare say get under somebody else."

"Guy or girl, either will do." Sloan shrugs.

Sadly your experiences with women ended just as tragically as they did with men.

"Have you ever noticed how hot Jolly is?"

Sloan's unsolicited comment about Noah's bandmate and friend draws your attention as you follow her gaze and witness five familiar faces entering the bar. It doesn't surprise you and yet now you wish that you were anywhere but here.

"No, I can't say that I have." You're hopeful she catches the disinterest in your tone.

"Oh come on, look at him. Those tattoos, that long hair, the accent! God he's dreamy." She says, bringing her straw to her lips, taking a sip of her drink. "I bet he's a charmer too, a real gentleman."

"Are you really gushing over him right now?"

"A girl can look, can't she?" She briefly glances at you before returning her gaze to Jolly, who stands at the bar with his friends. "Besides, there's something about his age that really ignites my daddy issues."

"Okay, I think you've had enough of this." You reach for her glass, pulling the mixed cocktail away from her.

"I wonder if he likes to be called daddy."

"Please don't." You grimace at the thought.

Your mind had been plagued by what ifs when it came to Noah and his ex. The last thing you needed was to imagine any scenario involving his bandmate and his preferences in the bedroom.

"I'm going to ask him." She declares, shuffling herself to the edge of the booth.

"Sloan!"

"What? I told you, you need to go find someone to help you get over Noah and I need someone to just get my leg over." She laughs and you roll your eyes.

She's like a cat in heat when she finds someone she's interested in. You just wish it weren't someone so closely connected to Noah, and that she wouldn't abandon you right now to pursue them.

You watch her approach Jolly from across the bar, following her usual routine of leaning against him, brushing herself closer, and whispering something in his ear. Almost like clockwork, he finishes his glass of brown liquor and slips off with her.

She's too predictable.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet Noah's as you scan the bar. He notices your gaze and raises his glass in a toast. You decide to ignore it, downing your drink and the remaining contents of Sloan's before slipping out of the booth to head to your room for the night, maybe you'll even order room service.

Hopefully tomorrow will have a better start to it.

"He has got to be fucking kidding me." You grumble under your breath, huffing as you roll over and pull your pillow over your head to muffle out the sound currently coming through the wall you share with Noah.

Between the rhythmic banging against the wall and the high-pitched moans you keep hearing, it's safe to assume he isn't alone in there. If his intention had been to annoy you, unfortunately, it was working. You assume it's just another one of his many tactics to get under your skin.

So far, this weekend has been anything but peaceful, and you're starting to regret coming.

Even the tv does little to drown out the noise that is coming through the wall your bed is against.

Eventually, the noise all becomes too much and you find yourself throwing the covers off, drag yourself out of bed with a hefty sigh, deciding to confront the matter at hand and potentially tell him to shut the fuck up.

Rapidly knocking on Noah's hotel room door, you huff and the moment he opens it, you're met with him shirtless, wearing only his boxers. His chest glistens with what could easily be sweat or maybe water. From the sounds you'd heard coming through the wall from his room, you guess it to be the first, especially when you hear the heaviness in his breath.

"Oh hey, we're not being too loud are we?"

Your eyes narrow on him. You hadn't even spoken a word for why you were here, but he had already apparently figured out your reasoning.

"If you're entertaining guests, do you mind keeping it down?" You attempt to peer behind him and into the room, Noah purposely moving his larger frame to block you.

"Sorry. Had no idea we were being that loud." There's a smug grin on his face and what you wouldn't give to slap it off him.

It's two in the morning and perhaps for Vegas that is still early, but for you it's the middle of the night.

"Of course not. So, what unfortunate girl did you manage to convince to come home with you this time, huh?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise an eyebrow.

You have no genuine reason or explanation for asking him this, as if you genuinely care to know. Besides, the room has now fallen silent, compared to the incessant noise you were hearing through the wall just moments ago.

"Well…" Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, a sheepish expression crosses his face, which causes your own brow to furrow.

Then his words are cut off by the sound of a familiar giggle, your eyes widening as you hear the stretched out sound of his name from a voice which turns your blood cold. "Noooowah."

"No, wait! I can explain!" Noah reaches for you as you quickly turn back in the direction of your room, almost catching his fingers in the door when it slams shut behind you.

You spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, the sound of Noah's ex's voice playing on repeat in your head after hearing it come from his room. You more so hate the fact that you're allowing it to bother you at all, but the look on his face had almost screamed guilt to you.

What you hate even more is indulging in a Google search, which inevitably leads you down a rabbit hole, revealing that his ex-girlfriend will indeed be present at the festival they're scheduled to perform at on Sunday.

By morning, you're grumpy and sleep-deprived, but the thought of staying in the room next to them for any longer becomes increasingly irritating. With a heavy sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, quickly showering and changing. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you decide to explore the hotel and send Sloan a text, informing her of your plans.

"Excuse me?" You look up, only to find yourself once again face to face with the same asshole front man you've been trying to avoid.

It's been an hour of peace this morning and somehow, even in a busy hotel, he still manages to cross paths with you.

"What?" You say through gritted teeth, before you realize that the voice hasn't come from him.

It had been feminine and soft, coming from a young girl who stood nearby, with two of her friends.

"I'm sorry. I was wondering if you would mind taking a photo for us? We're such huge fans of him and..."

You don't need to hear the same old drivel. 

Huge fans, their first time meeting him, would love a group photo, yada yada yada. It wasn't your first time standing on the sidelines and becoming an unofficial photographer for him and the fans who spotted him while he was out.

Catching sight of Noah's face, you see him raising his brows as if to express his silent shame regarding your rudeness directed at the young girl.

"Of course she wouldn't mind." He quickly interjects before you have a moment to register and refuse, forcing a smile as you take her phone from her.

"I'd be delighted." It was a lie, but you could hardly say no now. You'd already been an asshole once.

Lifting the phone, you glance at them through the screen before calling out. "Say cheese." They all comply in unison, the girls striking poses and huddling close to their idol, while Noah raises his signature peace sign.

As soon as you return the phone, Noah has already slipped away and headed back towards his group bandmates, who are eagerly waiting for him.

"Asshole." you mutter to yourself, only to overhear the girls as they begin examining their photo and giggling among themselves.

"Do you think he's single?" One asks.

"I hope so. I might try and shoot my shot with him if he is." Another responds, and you roll your eyes before casting a quick glance behind them, back in Noah's direction as you speak, making sure your voice is loud enough for him to potentially hear.

"I heard he ghosts girls once he gets bored of them." You look back towards the group of girls after catching Noah's head turning slightly in your direction.

"Then I'd just have to make sure he didn't get bored of me." The first girl responds.

"Good luck with that." You throw out a fake smile, catching Noah and his group of friends walking back in your direction. "Just make sure to get yourself tested if you're stupid enough to become one of his groupies." 

As Noah passes by, you turn your full attention to him, speaking more to him than to the girls you're warning. "You never know where he's been."

"There you are!" You hear Sloan before she slips her arm around yours, dragging you away. Leaning in closer, she briefly glances back to the group of girls you had been standing near before asking. "Who are they?"

"Some of Noah's groupies." You make no effort to hide the annoyance in your tone, Sloan catching on and nodding.

"Right. Well, forget about them and Noah."

That had been the plan, you think, but you bite your tongue instead of letting the retort slip, following her lead through the hotel until you reach one of the restaurants serving breakfast.

"I've heard this place is great." She declares, slipping into a booth as you shuffle in on the same side next to her.

"Well after last night I could really do with a sugar rush right now." You reach for the menu, looking over the pancake options.

You pay no mind to the sudden influx of noise behind you, until you hear Sloan's voice. "Hi Jolly."

You whip your head around, almost giving yourself whiplash in the process, and see the table behind you is now occupied with the familiar sight of the Omens, Noah sitting himself on the booth which backs right onto your own.

"Oh, didn't see you there."

"Funny that." You force a grin and turn your attention back onto the menu before hearing him chime up once more.

"What are you thinking of getting? I heard the pancakes are great."

You know the question is directed to you. You can sense his presence, the heat of his gaze hovering just inches away from your shoulder as he scans the menu in your hands. In a sudden burst of energy, you slam it down onto the table, turning your head just enough to be face-to-face with him.

"Do you really have to sit here? A whole restaurant and you choose here."

"It's got the best view." A smug grin breaks out across his face.

"What?" Your voice inches a couple of octaves higher as though ready to scream at him before he draws your attention to a nearby window.

"Of the strip."

As quickly as your blood pressure has risen, it lowers again and you almost feel dizzy from it. 

"I think I'm going to be sick." You mumble, turning yourself back around and leaning forward against the table, holding your head in your hands.

"Late night or something?"

He just doesn't know when to stop. Even worse is his friends don't even make an attempt to stop him or advise him to shut the fuck up.

"Not as late as you." You throw back, lifting your head and briefly glancing over your shoulder. "Besides, it's kind of hard to sleep when your neighbor is making a ruckus all night. What time did your guest slip out last night, hm? You didn't want to invite her for breakfast?"

"Guest?" Folio asks. "We didn't have anyone in our—ow!" He cuts off as you catch Noah jabbing him in the side, furrowing your brow at them.

"What can I say? She's not as high maintenance as most girls."

"By that you mean she's easy."

"Easy to please, easy to leave."

Right at that moment, a server approaches your table, completely disregarding yours and Sloan's, as she attends to the group of guys at the table next to you. 

This makes you what you think is irrationally angry, until you hear Sloan mutter under her breath. "Bitch." 

You have to press your lips together to prevent your laughter from escaping, and then, from behind you, you hear Noah's voice.

"They're with us too." A glance behind reveals him pointing a thumb in your direction.

Once the server has taken your orders, you hear Nicholas speak up, looking over into your booth as he asks. "We were planning on going to a laser tag place this afternoon if you want to come?" 

"No."

"Yes!"

You and Sloan respond in unison, turning to look at one another as you respond with the same answers again.

Forcing a smile, you lean in as you speak under your breath to her so as not to allow any of the guys, particularly Noah who is sitting in the booth which backs against your own, to hear. "I thought this was a girls weekend."

"Are you really going to pass up an opportunity to shoot the man who broke your heart in the chest? Even if it is fake?" She argues and you contemplate it.

You can't deny the idea isn't promising, perhaps even therapeutic.

"Good point." You nod and pull back, turning your head to look over at Nicholas. "Okay, we're in."

Though you don't look, you swear from the corner of your eye, you catch a grin forming on Noah's face.

"I can't believe that you've convinced me to do this." Looking over to Sloan, you shake your head, pulling on the vest for your laser tag session before stepping up to her for help tightening it where needed. 

"Would you rather be back at the hotel in the spa?" She gives you a look and you quickly cave, mumbling a 'no' under your breath.

Unlike Sloan, a spa day was hardly something you found enjoyable. You were more of an active person, and a game of laser tag, where you could potentially shoot your ex multiple times without feeling guilty or causing any harm, provided you with a much-needed form of therapy. 

"Then it's settled. You're all ready." She declares and gives herself a spin for you to admire her new combat laser tag look. "How do I look? Do you think Jolly would like it?"

"I think you could wear a black bag and still pull it off." You laugh, slipping out from the changing area and back into the waiting area. "Did you really hook up with Jolly last night?"

"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." Sloan raises a hand to flip her hair back over her shoulder.

"Please, you've told me, in excruciating detail, might I add, the things that have happened pre first date between you and someone else."

"I don't know what you mean. Some of us are a little more classy than those who will give their ex-boyfriends a quick jerk off in the tour bus bunk."

You scoff, your mouth dropping open. "Jolly told you about that?!"

Stepping up to the counter, you both receive your laser guns and hold yours up in aid of your threat that follows. "He'll be the first on my hit list."

The upside to running around in the dark with only LED lights lighting the way is you have yet to actually run into your ex. The room is big enough to spread out and hide, as well as avoid crossing his path. You almost start to wonder if he's here at all until you literally run into him.

The first thing you do is raise your laser gun to him and shoot before he bursts into laughter. "We're on the same team, you goof."

You look at the target lights on his vest and then the ones on your own, seeing they're in fact both red. "Fuck you." You grumble and attempt to shoot him again, though it causes no damage.

"You really want to shoot me that badly, huh?"

'Oh, you have no idea." Even in the dark your eyes lock dead onto his, feeling nothing but pure anger towards him.

Between his smug attitude this morning and the events you witnessed last night after banging on his door, you were more than prepared to take him down if necessary.

"Listen, about last night." 

You're both standing in the open, exposed to anyone who might still be in the game. Instead of suggesting that you move, you give him the chance to explain himself, especially since you notice movement behind him when you glance over his shoulder. 

"It's not what you think."

"Like I haven't heard that one before, Noah." You scoff, your gaze shifting back to him.

"I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are but unfortunately for you, I don't care." You take a step closer to him, your gun pointed at his chest once more.

"Have you not learnt that you can't do anything with that, yet?" He chortles and you gaze up at him,  a wicked grin crossing your lips. 

"I can't, but he can." You gesture behind his shoulder with a nod, and just as you do, Folio sneaks up behind him, firing his laser and causing him to be ejected from the game.

"How does it feel to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought you could trust?"

You're aware that he understands the metaphor here, that Folio's actions represent his own, and leaving him with a final smug grin, you dash to one of the dimly lit corners of the spacious room to complete the remainder of the round with the few of you who remain.

Although your team technically loses, it feels like a victory for you because it means Noah has lost. Considering his reputation as a sore loser, you find amusement in watching him sulk as you finally exit the laser tag arena.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @blade-dressed-in-red @deathblacksmoke @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @geminigirlfromfinland  @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @Chey-h @halfalgorithmhafdeity @annthepenguin @samanthasgone

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤

a/n: not too happy with how the beginning turned out, but the second half of this has to be one of my favorite things i’ve ever written

summary: natasha romanoff x female!reader. based on the movie “the notebook”; you’re allie, nat’s noah. fluff + angst

warnings: car crash, trauma, blood, memory loss

word count: 8.8k

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

The consequences of your actions couldn't have been sweeter.

Your parents don't end up approving of Natasha, but maybe that's okay. Even two years later, they refuse to talk to her. You don't talk to them, either.

You don't tell them the big news.

They don't get an invite.

They also don't see you in your wedding dress.

Your father doesn't walk you down the aisle. Instead, Peter takes over that job for him.

It took Natasha three months to figure out what to wear. To you, it never mattered — she would've look gorgeous in anything. But, when you see her waiting for you in her white suit, you're very happy about her choice.

It's a small wedding, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Just the closest friends, and a few distant relatives who were kind enough to show up — not many of those, obviously. But you'd always suspected your aunt Vivian would support your little act of rebellion.

She sits in the second row, beaming just like Peter. When she hugs you after the ceremony, she whispers: "Your mom will come around eventually. If she doesn't, then she's missing out."

You're not sure about the first part, but the second? That, you know is true.

Natasha doesn't let go of your hand the entire night. During the vows, the toast, your first dance as wives. Her eyes are on you, as well. You're not doing anything extraordinary, other than wear a wedding dress, but she's looking at you like you hung the moon.

Your honeymoon is just as special. After a few weeks in Italy, you make your way back to where you're happiest. Back to the place that keeps pulling you in like a magnet, back to your world of coffees and canoes and mornings in the lake.

You'll always return to this house, that much is clear. You remember what Natasha said when she first brought you here — for someday. Away from everything. Away with someone.

That someone somehow turned out to be you. As you watch her reach for the key and unlock the door, you couldn't be more thankful for that fact.

"We need a bed", you mumble. You still haven't upgraded from the mattress you've been using for years now.

She glances at you, the soft sunlight catching her hair. "I like the mattress. Very grounding."

"Haha." You smirk and grab her hand, letting her lead you inside. The smell of pine and dust is comforting. It feels like a home, even more so than the apartment you bought in New York City together.

The floorboards creak underfoot. You look around, taking the familiar space in. It's old and worn, the kind of place that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Natasha drops your bags by the floor, then stretches her arms above her head with a satisfied sound.

The surface of the lake outside shimmers. You step out onto the porch and grab the broom to remove all the old leaves and dirt that have accumulated during your absence. Inside the kitchen, Natasha starts cleaning the kitchen so she can get started on dinner.

"Feels good to be back", you call, wiping the chairs and table down with a rag.

"Feels like we never left", she replies, her voice distant from the kitchen. You hum to yourself and wring the rag through your hands. Natasha's right — it really does feel like slipping into a life that was already waiting for you. But getting here wasn't easy at all.

You straighten up and make your way to the small garden just in front of the porch. Potted plants are lined up on one side of the stairs, so you crouch down and check on them. It rains often enough out here, but they look a little dry — understandably so, since it's July — so you grab a watering can.

Being back here brings back memories. You still remember that day, that conversation with Simon that started with a simple "I think we need to talk."

The heavy silence that followed, his breathing quiet and suddenly uneven. His question whether there's someone else. Your admittance that, yes, there always had been.

Your carefully composed world crumbled within hours.

It's a blur now. Your parents' fury, their desperate attempts to reel you back in, your mother's sharp warnings that you'd regret this. Beneath her mask of composure was an insecurity, stemming from being defied by her own child for the first time in her life.

You were told you'd regret this. But you got on the jet with Natasha, your hand in hers, and you didn't regret a thing.

Two years later, you're still waiting for said regret to set in. You don't see it happening, though. Not now, not ever.

A clatter from the kitchen pulls you back into the present. You pull out a few weeds and toss them into the compost, then you make your way back inside. Natasha's boiling water for the pasta now, so you wash your hands and grab a few cans of tomatoes. Right as you put them into a pot, you feel the familiar weight of her arms around your waist. Her lips meet your neck, soft and unhurried.

"Quiet here", she murmurs, pressing another kiss to your jaw. You turn your head and she kisses your nose.

"It's always been like that."

"I like it." She pauses, her hands running up and down your sides. "It feels a little empty, though."

You open your eyes and look at her, eyebrows raised. Natasha smiles faintly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It is empty", she mumbles, her nose nuzzling your cheek. "We should find a way to change that."

"Fill the house with pasta?"

"Maybe." Her hand slides to your stomach and slips under your shirt. Her palm is warm, but the wedding band feels cold against your skin. "Maybe not."

Whatever that's supposed to mean — you already know you'll need more room.

. . .

The drive from the airport feels longer this time. The once familiar road seems new, the trees look bigger. Inside the car it's quiet, save for the soft breathing coming from the backseat that has replaced the sound of the radio.

A turn, then another. Finally, you pull up in front of the space that, no matter what, is always one you can retreat to.

Natasha moves her hand from your thigh to undo her seatbelt, then she slides out of the car. She opens the door and gently scoops the little bundle out of her car seat. To your surprise, Masha stays asleep, even as Natasha adjusts her position in the crook of her arm. Her red wisps of hair stick out in all directions.

"She's getting heavy", Natasha mumbles, following you to the house.

"Well, she's not a tiny little newborn anymore. She's growing."

Your wife frowns at your words, despite knowing they're true. Maggie started crawling last week — she's anything but a newborn at this point.

"Still a baby", she mutters, glancing at your daughter. Her pacifier moves a bit as she sucks on it.

"Yes, still a baby." You drop your suitcases next to the bed — or rather, mattress. "Dammit, Nat. We really need to get a bed."

"Why?" Natasha bends down to place the baby on the middle of the mattress, lightly rubbing her tummy when she squirms in her sleep. "This is safer. For her."

You huff and kick off your shoes. "So what, we're just never upgrading? We'll just sleep on this thing forever?"

"You didn't mind back then", she mumbles, sitting down next to Masha. Her fingers brush over the baby's tiny sock-covered feet. "Besides, she can't roll off if there's nothing to roll off of."

"Can't argue with that." You join them right as Masha stirs again. Her eyes blink open, her pacifier falling out as she yawns and stretches. You smile and brush some hair out of her face. "Hey, honey."

Masha blinks up at you, fists clenching and unclenching, still caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Natasha scoops her up and holds her against her chest.

"Yeah, that was a nice nap", she says, kissing the baby's cheek. "You're all warm, Masha."

"Looks like someone is ready for a swim", you comment, already getting up to grab your swimsuits. Natasha looks at you and you pause. "What?"

"I think we should wait with that."

"What, why?" You pout and open the duffel bag anyway. Inside, you store your swimsuits and towels. "It's sweltering."

"I don't know how clean the lake is", she argues. Masha coos and Natasha gives her a quick smile. "She's too young."

"Oh, please." You slip your shirt off and momentarily leave Natasha speechless. But then she remembers that you aren't exactly alone, and that you also probably wouldn't take kindly to being ogled in front of your daughter, so she averts her eyes. "We went skinny dipping, like, dozens of times."

"Yes, but we're not 9 months old", she says, focusing on Masha again.

"You're sure?" You smirk as you catch the way her ears turn pink. "You get just as fussy when you're tired."

"I do not", she scoffs. But Masha, letting out a sleepy whimper and rubbing her face against Natasha's shoulder, proves your point. You raise an eyebrow.

"See? Identical."

"Oh, enough." She gets up, balancing the baby in her arms. "You're serious about swimming?"

"Very much so." You manage to close the clasp of the bikini top you're wearing and put your hair up into a bun. "Come on, we'll be quick."

Natasha narrows her eyes but doesn't argue, instead rocking Masha and rubbing her back. "We can take her down to the dock, let her dip her feet in. But that's it."

The sun is beaming down at you, but the trees surrounding the lake provide some shade. Natasha watches you as you jump into the water, then she sits on the dock. She keeps Masha cradled to her chest protectively, so you tread back to the dock and raise your eyebrows.

Your wife shoots you the most unimpressed look known to man.

"You promised", you remind her, splashing some water on her legs. The baby giggles, her arms flailing.

"What if I drop her?"

"You won't." You reach out and touch Masha's bare foot. "Just a quick dip."

She hesitates for another moment, but then sighs and adjusts her hold on the baby. Slowly, she lowers her from the dock until her toes touch the water. Masha's eyes widen, her entire body going stiff — but then she lets out a surprised little squeal.

"Oh", Natasha mumbles, watching the baby's mouth form an o-shape. She starts kicking her feet and gurgling in delight. "She likes it."

"Of course." You smile and lean back in the water. "I knew she would."

"Yeah, yeah." She scoops the baby back up and kisses her cheek, expertly ignoring her wails of protest. "That's enough for now."

"Oh, come on. What are you scared of?" You reach out and gently grab Masha's foot. "That the fishes are going to nibble at her little toes?"

"Hilarious."

The baby reaches out toward the water again, her hands grasping at the air. Her feet keep kicking, but Natasha doesn't budge. She's read too many horror stories about recreational water illnesses. Sure, Maggie is over the recommended 6 months old now, but your wife likes to be safe.

"It's time for lunch, anyway", Natasha adds, using the hem of her shirt to dry Masha's feet. "I bet she's hungry."

"Probably", you agree half heartedly. You sigh and get out onto the dock again, water dripping from your body. Natasha stands up as well and wraps one arm around your waist. She pulls you closer and gives you a kiss.

"We'll go swimming later", she mumbles, her hand drifting to your front. Her fingertips gently skim over the stretch marks there. "When the little fishie is asleep."

It's not the breeze that makes you shiver. You lean into the touch and press your lips against the corner of her mouth. "You better keep that promise."

"I always do", she teases. She grabs your hand and raises her eyebrows, a playful smile on her face as she starts leading you back to the house. "Come on. Milk for the fishie, and steak for us."

Later that night, when Masha's asleep, you take her outside in her stroller and leave it close enough so you're able to see and hear her. Then you pull Natasha to the dock, kissing and tugging each other's clothes off, giggling like teenagers whenever you need to part for a moment.

Your shirt ends up god knows where — in a bush, maybe, or in the old canoe. You don't really pay it any attention. You're far too focused on getting into the water again.

The lake is still warm enough from the sun that'd been shining all day, but now that it's windy and dark out, it almost feels cold against your skin. You gasp at the feeling, and Natasha quickly wraps her arms around your waist.

"It's freezing", she whispers sweetly, trailing kisses along your jaw. "I bet it'll take you less than twenty minutes to want to go back inside."

"A bet, huh?" You smile, but a shiver runs through you and the accompanying clattering of your teeth interrupts you. "If I win, you're on diaper duty for the rest of the week."

"Deal." She kisses your lips, her own plush and warm. "If I win, you're singing me a lullaby every night. The entire week."

"Oh god." You grimace, but Natasha kisses it off your face. Her hands run to your back and she tugs at the clasp of your bra. You quickly squirm away from her wandering hands. "Hey! Behave."

"No fun in that", she replies, her hands splaying out on your back. Then, without a hint of a warning, she pulls you under the water with her.

You gasp and close your eyes on instinct, your arms clinging to her. The water soaks into your hair and fully envelops you from head to toe, and when you surface again, laughter bubbles between you. It's a silent night, save for the sound of your giggles and the distant hum of cicadas.

You lift your hands to wipe the water off Natasha's face and she pauses. Her fingers tuck a wet strand of hair behind your ear as she studies you with that look you by now know intimately.

The lake around you ripples, but neither of you move. Then you hear Masha fuss in her stroller, and you both smile knowingly.

You lean in and press your wet lips to hers, the lake water as sweet as the day you first tasted it on her tongue.

. . .

"No!"

Your voice cuts through the silent summer air, loud and sharp in a way your kids aren't used to. Archer looks up, his eyes wide and his arms stretched out to the sides.

"Don't even think about it", you say, quickly walking down to the dock. Masha grins up at you from the water and waves innocently. You grab your son's shoulder and point a finger at your daughter. "You too. You're right in front of the dock, it's dangerous."

"I'm not that close", she protests, and Archer nods enthusiastically.

"I'm careful, mama."

"I wouldn't listen to them", Natasha calls. You turn to see her on the porch, carrying Lilia in her arms. She's wrapped up in a towel, her face sticky with strawberry ice cream. "Remember the tree incident last year?"

"How could I forget?", you grumble. "I can still hear your cries, Archie."

He pouts, his shoulders slumping. "That was different."

"You fell into a bush", your wife says, walking up to the dock. "Headfirst."

"You were stuck for, like, five minutes", Maggie adds, a grin on her face. She swims backwards to give Archer more space. "It was so funny."

"It was not funny. Your brother could've gotten hurt."

"Listen to your mother, bud", Natasha says. She adjusts Lilia on her hip and brushes her hand over his damp curls. "We don't need an emergency room visit this summer."

He groans and drags his foot over the wooden dock. For a moment, you think he's accepted defeat — but then he suddenly sprints forward and leaps into the air, yelling a triumphant "ha!" Water splashes everywhere, even managing to get into your eyes.

"Archer Romanoff!", you scold as you wipe your face. Your voice gets lost between Masha's and Lilia's laughter. "Alright, that's it. Do I really need to take away your ice cream-privileges?"

He surfaces again, water dripping down his face. "No fair! Lilia ate all my ice cream!"

"Kid's got a point", your wife mumbles, glancing at your youngest. She just looks up at her with wide, innocent eyes, her cheeks covered in the ice cream she's eating. "Great, it dripped on the towel."

"We'll wash it. What we can't fix as easily, however, is a broken skull. So no more jumping when someone else is that close to the dock!"

"Fine", Archer relents. He splashes some water at his older sister, who grimaces and slaps the back of his head. "Ow!"

"No fighting", you remind them and glance at Natasha. Your wife is busy cooing at Lilia, who's having the time of her life being coddled. "Seriously? Why do I always have to be the bad cop here?"

"Because you're good at it." Natasha kisses Lilia's nose and smiles, moving the child onto her shoulders. "Besides, they're just playing."

"He splashed water at her."

"And she retaliated", she argues. "No harm done."

You sigh and glance at the kids again, who seem more peaceful now. Or, as peaceful as a five- and ten-year-old can be. Archer's spinning in circles, while Masha has plopped into the inflatable donut you brought.

"Want ice cream", Lilia suddenly declares.

You want to argue, but then press your lips into a thin line and give Natasha a pointed look — your turn. First she hesitates, but then lets out a sigh and slowly shakes her head.

"No more today, bub. Too much sugar."

"But it's summer!", Masha protests. Ankles crossed and arms behind her head, she looks like the human form of relaxation. "Also, I only had two today."

"Two's enough", you say before you can stop yourself. "We're having dinner in about an hour, anyway. Any special requests?"

"Can we have pizza?", Archer requests.

"You sure can", Natasha says, "but you're making it yourself."

"What? On my own?" He gapes at her.

"Exactly", she confirms. "Come on. I'll even help you with the dough."

The kids scramble out of the water and start running toward the house. Lilia, clearly wanting to join in on the fun, squirms until Natasha puts her on the ground. She runs after them as fast as her short legs allow her to.

For a moment, it's just you and Natasha again. Hands intertwined, the setting sun warm on your skin, the familiar little house in front of you full of life now.

. . .

Sometimes, life isn't fair.

You can talk about karma all you want, believe in fate, hope for justice. Trust that, somewhere out there, there's a referee who'll make sure everyone gets what's fair to them.

Oftentimes, that's not the case. You can close your eyes and pretend the truth doesn't exist, but it will hit you straight in the face anyway.

You're distracted when you get into the car. A sleepless night due to your son who started yelling at his computer at 3am, eight hours of work in an overfilled office, a fight with your wife that you caused — now you're exhausted, irritated, and understandably so.

You step out of the building and toss your purse into the passenger seat before getting in the car. You check your hair in the rear view mirror, quickly spotting the dark circles under your eyes and the wrinkles forming around them.

Whether you believe it or not: you're getting old.

With a sigh, you fire up the engine and roll out onto the road. From that moment on, it's like you're moving through a fog.

The world is distant, your thoughts jumbled. You turn corners, the streets blurring in front of your eyes. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel restlessly. All you want is to go home — little do you know that you wouldn't be able to do that for a while.

You're not thinking about the road.

In hindsight, you'd like to say that all it took were a few seconds of carelessness. But no. It was more, way more. That one specific second, however, where your focus wavers entirely, is what changes everything.

A sudden swerve from the car in front of you. You hit the brakes too late. Then, your world shifts into chaos.

The screech of tires. Your body thrown against the seatbelt. A flash of metal. The sickening crunch of impact. Blood on your tongue, a ringing noise in your ears. Your own heartbeat, and the deafening silence that follows.

. . .

The harsh light is what you notice first. Bright, blinding you, making your head pound even as you squint. You try to lift your hand to block it out, but your limbs feel too heavy.

Then the smell. Sterile, clinical, unfamiliar. A soft beeping sound in the distance, rhythmic and insistent.

You blink rapidly, trying to shake the fog from your mind, but nothing clears. You try to swallow, but your throat is as dry as sandpaper. It feels like you haven't used your voice in days. Instead, you attempt to sit up, but your body protests with a dull ache. You somehow manage to turn your head.

Next to you, a silhouette jumps up from a chair. Her face is familiar and unfamiliar at once, but she looks worried — so worried.

"Hey, hey", she says, first reaching out but then pulling back her hand. "You're okay."

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out at first. In that moment, you don't know much — but you do know that speaking shouldn't be this difficult.

"...Where?", you eventually manage to get out.

"Hospital. You were in a car crash."

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, trying to remember, remember anything, connect some dots, fill the overwhelmingly large gaps.

You draw a blank.

"Who are you?", you ask, voice weak. The woman stiffens, then slowly moves to sit down next to you on the bed. Grey hoodie, dark circles under her eyes, unwashed hair. Clearly exhausted, probably hasn't slept properly in a while.

You search her face, and even if your heart beats faster at the sight — you don't recognize her. Not like you should.

"Natasha", she mumbles. "Your wife."

You nod again. "I...I don't...remember."

The words hang in the air between you. Natasha — your wife — hesitates before touching the back of your hand. Her touch is warm, comforting. Your brain may not recognize it, but your heart does.

"We have kids", she begins, quietly. "Masha. She's 17 now. Won a soccer tournament last month. Archer, he...he games a little too much. But he's a good kid. And Lilia is so smart. She's like you, you know."

You don't react. You try to assign faces to the names, but you can't. All you can imagine are three kids, faceless, practically strangers.

A mother, you wonder. I'm a mother.

You give her another pleading, disconcerted look. Everything about this is weighing heavily on your dazed mind. Why can't you remember who you are? Why can't you recognize the woman you supposedly married?

Natasha's fingertips trace the back of your hand as she starts to explain. A car crash, where the driver in front of you lost control of their vehicle. A traumatic brain injury. Retrograde and anterograde amnesia. Gaps in your memory, which are temporary (according to the doctors), but unsettlingly large.

"I know it's confusing", Natasha continues, her voice breaking. "But it's okay. It's normal. I mean, you were in a car crash. You need to recover, and you're getting better already."

"I don't feel better", you mumble. Someone knocks on the door and you look up. "What...?"

"The kids", she says, already on her way. "I asked Peter to watch them."

"Peter."

It's a statement, but it sounds like a question. Funny enough, you do remember that name. Your brain manages to flash you a picture of a teenager in an oversized shirt and Hello Kitty sweatpants, but then it's gone. You wonder whether it's a memory.

"I'll explain later", she says softly. She turns, her hand on the doorknob and her expression tentative. "Do you want to see them?"

Do you want to see them? No. Not in this state. Not knowing that you forgot your own children. The kids you carried, birthed, loved.

But you need to see them. Because you did carry, birth, love them. Because you owe it to them, in a way.

"Yeah", you murmur. Natasha nods and opens the door. One after the other, three kids enter the room. The oldest girl looks a lot like you, but her hair is entirely Natasha's. Then a boy — a middle schooler — with unruly hair and an expression torn between deep worry and mild boredom. The last one is a girl, only ten years old, who clings to Natasha's side.

They all stand there, staring at you, and you look at the woman who's supposed to be your wife. A silent call for help.

She quickly turns and nods at the kids. "Go on, say hi."

They hesitate, but then Masha steps forward. Being the oldest, she understands this situation the most — but even for her, processing this is difficult.

You can't blame her. You're an adult, and you can't quite process it either.

"Hey, mom", she mumbles. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine", you say, blinking a few times. You reach out and touch her hand, and while your brain may not recognize the girl in front of you, your body still does. "I'm sorry, I..."

"You really don't remember?", the little girl — Lilia, you remind yourself — asks. She's still half-hidden behind Natasha, who looks like she wants to jump in and shield you from all of this. But she can't. This is your moment, your choice.

You don't say anything for a long moment. You could either lie ("Of course I remember you, don't be silly sweetheart") but you know that Masha and Archer are both old enough to see through that. You shake your head.

"I'm sorry", you say, then add: "honey."

"It's okay", Natasha says again, almost as if trying to convince herself by repeating those two words over and over again. "Mom just needs some rest, yeah?"

"Sure", Archer mumbles. He gives you one last cautious look, then shuffles out of the room with his hands buried in the pockets of his cargos. Outside the room, a man — dark hair, friendly face that's lost its usual happiness — ushers them back into the waiting room. He glances at you and smiles weakly before turning and leaving.

Natasha closes the door and sits down next to you again. She pulls out a ring and places it in your palm. It's identical to the one she's wearing.

"You don't have to put it on", she says right as you're slipping it onto your finger. She swallows at the sight, her facade cracking. "Oh."

"Look", you murmur, cheeks red with a shame that's completely out of place in this situation, "I don't remember much about you. Or the kids. And I'm sorry for that. But you said you're my wife, and if you are, I'm probably really lucky because my heart keeps doing this weird thing when I look at you."

Natasha nods and exhales shakily. Her fingers touch yours, brushing against the wedding ring, and you stay completely still. You turn your hand so it's palm up and gently grab her hand.

"I am your wife", she says, voice breaking as she holds back tears. "You have no idea how lucky I am."

You close your eyes and squeeze her fingers. "For now, I'd like to be able to know who I am first."

She laughs and nods, tears making her vision blurry. "We'll get there."

. . .

The memories creep back in an agonizingly slow fashion.

Being back home does help, even if you struggle to associate anything major to the house you're in. Natasha told you that you bought this house right after you got pregnant with Archer, but you don't remember that. But, when you step through the front door for the first time after the accident, your brain provides you with the feeling of carrying your newborn over the same threshold years ago.

It's just a fragment of the memory, but it lays the groundwork for everything to come.

Recovery is frustrating and confusing and painful. You're physically stable, but mentally, you're in a fog.

Doing mundane, everyday tasks isn't an issue anymore. You make coffee in the mornings (even if your hands sometimes still feel like they don't belong to you; you've shattered more cups within a week than you have in your entire life), you shower, you even do Lilia's hair and make sure she gets into the school bus.

What else do you remember? Truthfully, not much. It's mostly fragments at this point, emotional recognition and muscle memory. One evening, when you're on the couch, you remember your first day of school. But looking at Natasha, not much comes to mind. All you know is that she's safe.

With the kids, it's similar. You don't remember anything, basically, but you can feel they're yours and you can feel you love them.

Masha is the most mature, being 17 years old already. She hides her pain well and, instead of wallowing, tries to bond with you — she knows how to make you feel included. She tells you about what happened at school, plays songs she claims are your favorites (sometimes, you do recognize the melodies), watches tv with you.

Archer is distant. He spends most of his time either playing video games or doing homework. His interactions with you are limited, but you'll catch him looking at you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. He's waiting for you to be his mom again, to be that woman who ruffles his hair and makes him eat his vegetables, who plays Mario Kart and goes to the LEGO store with him.

Lilia is too young to fully understand, too small, too hopeful. She curls up beside you without hesitation and hands you books you very well know she could read on her own. You still flip them open and read the stories to her, quietly hoping that it'll help. Sometimes, it does, and you suddenly see a much smaller version of her in that same spot next to you.

One day, you catch Natasha in her office. She's been spending more and more time in there, mostly when you're busy around the house. When you walk in, she closes the notebook on her desk and turns to look at you. Her eyes soften and she smiles and, oh, you forget about the weight in your chest. You feel the love between you, decades old and steadier than anything, and in that moment, it's enough.

You smile back and pause in the doorway. You still feel like you don't belong into this house, like you're an intruder. You know that's not the case, but your mind is as much of a traitor as it is a stranger.

"What are you doing?", you ask, head leaning against the doorframe.

"Writing", she replies and turns around in her desk chair. "You okay?"

There's that question again. You force another smile.

"I'm okay."

"Hungry?"

You should be. It's almost dinner time. You shake your head — you're rarely hungry these days.

"No."

Natasha nods, then gestures at you to come closer. You hesitate before approaching her.

Her eyes study you in a way that makes your skin tingle. The silence in the room is only adding to this strange, but not unwelcome, feeling. You avert your eyes before everything can become too much.

When Natasha speaks up again, she sounds choked up. "Come here."

You look at her.

"Please", she adds, almost pleading.

Another step. You sit down on her lap and glance at her. Her arms wrap around you, safe and solid. Something flashes in your mind, something warm and familiar, and you freeze to make it last.

"You know what this feels like?", you mumble when you're certain the feeling won't slip from your grasp again.

Natasha raises her eyebrows. Her hand gently runs up and down your back. "What?"

You rest your head against her shoulder. You know her scent, that much you're sure of. "A house."

"Mhm?"

"With a lake", you continue, struggling to explain. "I remember a mattress.”

She closes her eyes and turns her head, her nose nuzzling your hair. Tears aren't something to be ashamed of, but she won't let you catch her crying again. All of this hasn't been easy for her, either.

"Anything else, love?"

"A mattress on the floor", you mumble. "God, my back hurt."

"Yeah." She laughs, but it's a broken sound, muffled by your hair. "Mine did, too."

"Why'd we sleep on the floor?", you ask, still confused.

"Don't ask me", she murmurs and kisses the top of your head. It's an absentminded gesture, but her heart feels lighter when you lean into the touch. "We just forgot to buy a bed, I guess. We got used to the mattress."

"I think I liked it."

"You did?" Natasha smiles, her lips pressing against your cheek. "So did I."

. . .

A few weeks pass. The fog starts to lift, the haze thins. Things become easier, memories clearer.

Masha, still pink and squishy, wrapped into a towel. Nurses and bright lights. Salty tears on your cheeks, Natasha's hand on your head.

A canoe, old and shabby but staying afloat. Summer air on sunburnt skin. Aloe gel on shoulders and a wooden dock beneath your feet. Sweet kisses, slow and unhurried.

Seeing yourself in a wedding dress for the first time. Trying it on three kids later, with a body that's changed. Natasha standing behind you, closing the zipper. Fabric that feels much more snug. Her lips brush against your shoulder.

"You got even more beautiful. Must be magic at play here."

An elementary school. You can't tell whether it's yours or one of your kids's, but the fading chalk drawings are pastel and the air is musky after it rained.

A drive-in. A diner. A jet, with an odd symbol everywhere. Emergency room visits and first words, lullabies and a tattoo shop, stars and wilted flowers. Natasha and you in a dark hallway, Natasha and you bathing Archer for the first time.

Memories that come back gradually only to disappear again. They're not permanently gone — but sometimes, keeping them alive is hard. It hurts to look at your daughter's face and briefly forget her name, it hurts that you can't make pancakes the way you used to, it hurts you don't know your son's favorite movie or the name of the football club your daughter plays in.

Your photo album, some pictures faded, some corners creased from years of handling, helps. You sit on the couch, legs crossed and fingers tracing the images in front of you.

A picture of Natasha, her arms wrapped around a younger version of yourself. Trees in the background, and a blanket with a baby sleeping on it — Lilia, maybe half a year old. You squint, trying to remember that day.

A tap against the doorframe makes you look up. Masha stands there, arms folded, watching you.

"Hey", she says. "You okay?"

"I'm alright", you quickly say, blinking the sudden moisture away from your eyes. "What about you, honey?"

"Fine. Finished one of the books on my summer reading list." She moves to sit down next to you and peeks at the pictures. She taps the one you were looking at. "That's a good one", she says, smiling.

"I don't remember much", you admit.

"Yeah? Well, we decided to go on a picnic." Masha points at the trees. "A bird managed to crap on Lil's stroller."

"Language", you say without really having to think about it. Masha's smile widens. You can see something of Natasha's in her eyes.

"That was very you, mom", she says, nudging your shoulder with hers. "Come on, you gotta know what I'm talking about. Archer got chased by a dog. Mama had to grab that beast's collar. The owner threatened to sue her."

"Yeah", you say slowly. You glance at her and smile tentatively. "I think Archer climbed a fence."

Her eyes light up. "He did, yes. And mama dragged the dog back to its owner and absolutely bawled him out."

You nod, the weight on your shoulders having lessened. You remembered something else — not much, but it's a little step in the right direction anyway.

Maggie flips to another page and points at a picture. "Here. Try."

You study the image carefully. It's another one of you and Natasha, but this time, you're on a dock. You can barely see your faces, since they're turned towards one another — her nose brushing against yours, your smile wide, tiny wrinkles around your squinting eyes. A lake stretching out behind you, with a kid's head poking out in the distance.

"Oh", you mumble. You hesitate, but the warmth in your chest tells you to keep going. "It was summer. There was this- this house...and a lake. We spent our summer there."

"We spend every summer there", your daughter reveals. "Except for the one where you had Lilia."

"Right", you mumble. "Was there a storm that night?"

"Yes!" She nods, her red ponytail bobbing up and down. "The power went out. And-"

"And the kids were scared, so we lit candles", Natasha finishes the thought from across the room. You turn around, spotting your wife in the doorway to the living room. In her hand, the notebook. She tilts her head and smiles, something thoughtful glistening in her eyes as she watches you chase your own memories. "We told ghost stories."

"Archer couldn't sleep", you whisper.

"He slept in our bed", Natasha confirms. "He stayed there the entire summer, even if he kicked me all the time."

"Yeah", you mumble, looking back at the picture. Suddenly, it's all so vivid in your mind. You can pierce together fragments until they form something akin to a full memory.

When you meet Natasha's eyes again, something in them has changed. She looks resolute as she steps up to the couch, the notebook still in her grasp.

"There's something I want to read to you", she says, sitting down next to you. Masha gives her a curious look.

"Oh, really?"

"You're going to bed", she tells your daughter. "This is something I want to discuss with my wife, not your mom."

Masha looks like she's about to protest, but then her shoulders slump in defeat. She understands what Natasha means. She gets up, kisses you both on the cheeks and then heads upstairs. Once her bedroom door has closed, Natasha opens the notebook.

"I wrote this", she says, briefly glancing at the pages. "It's pretty long, if I'm being honest."

"What is it?", you ask, doing your best not to peek.

"Uhm..." She hesitates. "Our story. Beginning to end. The entire thing."

You stare at her, baffled. Your wife is telling you that, somehow, she managed to squeeze 23 years of history into one single notebook. Highs and lows, tears and laughter, everything you went through together to get here.

Then, you tear up. You remember pieces of those more than two decades. Natasha remembers enough to write a book about them.

"Okay", you mumble, sinking into the couch. Natasha squeezes your knee, looking like she's close to tears herself. She clears her throat and open the first page, skimming it.

"'We met at a fun fair'", she begins. "'You wore a dress. I hope you won't be too mad about me saying this, but you had zero aim."

You smile and shake your head, your hands covering your face. She keeps going.

"'I tried to ask you out. You resisted, obviously. You were stubborn, and so was I. There was a risk to going out with a complete stranger, but I loved taking that risk.'"

"Ferris wheel", you whisper, voice muffled.

"Yeah." She nods. "'You left again, with your friend. I felt like the most unlucky idiot in the whole world. But then I saw you again, on the ferris wheel, and I decided that it was now or never. I got up-'"

"And climbed." You brush the tears away. "Could've fallen and broken your neck."

"I didn't", she argues softly. "I made it over to you."

"You smelled like sugar", you add. "Like...beer and sugar. It was so odd."

Natasha lets out a quiet laugh, but it's a pleasantly surprised one. She looks up from the pages, her eyes searching your face. "You never told me that."

"I didn't?" You glance at her, eyebrows furrowed. You can still smell her scent from that moment, how sugary and bitter it was at the same time. "Huh.”

"That's good", she says, encouraging you. Reading about your memories seems to coax more of them out of you. "Want me to keep going?"

"Yes", you immediately say.

And so she does.

Your first date, in a diner. The first kiss afterwards. Nights of sneaking out, staying with her.

The house by the lake. The mattress. The three years of separation in between, and your engagement to Simon.

Peter telling her about everything. Meeting again, kissing, sleeping with each other.

Breaking off the engagement. Leaving town, heading to New York. Staying with SHIELD for a while. The weeks that followed.

Memory after memory. Some feel like echoes, others like dreams. Some pop between your fingers like bubbles, others seep into your bones, like they've been waiting for you to find them again.

You don't remember all of it. You've blocked many things out completely — like the fact that Natasha had dinner with your family once —, which leaves you feeling unsettled.

Some of it seems too meaningful to forget. But then again, you couldn't remember Natasha was your wife when you first woke up after the accident. Now, you can at least recall saying 'yes' in front of the altar, and how you danced afterwards, and how your lipstick had stained the corner of her mouth.

Eventually, she closes the notebook. She's only gotten through less than twenty pages.

"There's more", she says, looking at you. "A lot more."

You nod, rubbing your face. "I feel like I won't be able to remember half of it."

"You don't have to remember it now", she says gently, her hand reaching out. You grab it and keep it in your lap, playing with her fingers like you used to.

Like you used to — there. Another memory.

"It's hard", you admit. "It's like I'm chasing ghosts. Like...like I can't catch them before they disappear."

Natasha hums, staring at the wall for a moment. Covered in family pictures, many of them taken in that one beloved place. The one place you've visited almost every summer, where you've gone through so much, experienced so much. A place you've returned to at various stages of your life. A place that, without any doubt, will always be there.

"You know what might help?", she says absentmindedly.

"What?"

Your wife looks at you and squeezes your hand. "Being there", she says, her smile tentative but knowing. "The house. The lake. The dock."

You swallow, looking past her at the pictures. At this point, you feel like your brain is teasing you. You can feel the thick summer heat, hear the sound of cicadas and the water lapping against the shore. But the memories actually associated to those distant sensations? You can't grasp them.

"It'll help?"

"It might."

You hesitate, but something inside you pulls towards the idea. To the familiarity of it, even if the familiarity feels foreign right now.

"It can't hurt", you admit. "I mean, it's summer anyway."

"The kids don't have school", Natasha adds. She leans in and kisses you way too briefly. You've grown more used to physical affection again, but she's still scared of making you uncomfortable. Her hands feel warm and solid on your sides. "I'll pack, we're leaving in the morning."

. . .

It's you who points at that one roadside diner you've been going to for the past ten years.

The looks you get from your family make you pause. Nobody speaks, they all just stare. Finally, Natasha squeezes your thigh.

"Bet I can guess your order."

"No way", you tease, simultaneously trying to remember your usual. Cheeseburger? Maybe fries? Definitely no pickles.

But Natasha, knowing you better than the back of her hand, rattles down your order without having to think about it. The word 'milkshake' triggers something, and you smile softly as you lean back and gaze at her.

"You'll share your whipped cream?", you ask.

"Wouldn't be a proper date if I didn't", she mumbles, grabbing your hand.

Normally, a flirty little comment like this would be enough to earn gagging noises from the kids in the backseat. But they know that everything is still fragile, so they stay quiet.

Arriving in front of the house makes you close your eyes. The sight is painful, but it sparks so many memories that it's almost overwhelming. The porch, the wooden steps, the trees surrounding the house.

"We're here", Archer says, turning off his Nintendo.

"Yeah", Masha mumbles, looking at the house with a thoughtful look on her face. "Still the same."

The kids unbuckle and get out of the car. They're all eager to return to this place, this house that feels more like home than anything else ever could.

You look at your wife and open your mouth, but for a moment, no sound escapes from your parted lips. Her face blurs, and so does her name. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut again, your hands trembling.

"Natasha", you manage a few seconds later. You forgot her name. Even if only for a few seconds, you forgot her name. She swallows and nods. She noticed — of course she did. She's been hyper aware of everything surrounding you since you got into that accident. "Oh god, I..."

"Hey", she says, leaning over to pull you into a hug. You bury your face in her neck and fight the rising panic. "You're just nervous. It's okay, I promise."

"It's so foggy", you mumble, breathing her in. "I thought this was supposed to help."

"We're not even inside yet, love." She pulls back and kisses you on the cheek. Outside, you hear your children's voices as they run around the front yard. Masha stops on the stairs and turns to look at you, the breeze tousling her red hair. Worry fills her eyes when she realizes you're still in the car.

"What if I don't remember?", you ask, your eyes meeting Natasha's again. "What if the memories stay gone? What if..."

She brushes some hair out of your face and smiles softly. The sadness in her eyes is unmistakable, but so is the steady love there.

"Then we'll make new memories. Come on."

She leads you out of the car and wraps her arm around your shoulders. The kids chatter excitedly as she unlocks the door to the house and lets them all storm in. Again, it's a small space — two bedrooms, one of which you added when you got pregnant with Lilia, as the space had started to feel a little too snug.

It's cozy, lived-in...and even familiar. The feeling of stepping into this space never changed.

It feels like a memory — that was your first impression you ever had of this house. Turns out you still remember that.

Your eyes sweep across the room. The kitchen you renovated, the little living room, the windows that provide a view of the lake. The dock. Even the hammock is still intact, though the pattern of the fabric has faded over the years.

"Where's the canoe?", you mumble. Before Natasha can answer, you speak up again. "It fell apart, didn't it?"

"It rotted", she says, nodding. "It was fine the summer before."

"Shame."

"I agree."

"Mom?"

You turn and look at Masha, who's holding a mug in her hand. A chipped mug.

"Yes?", Natasha says, rubbing your arm.

"Can I make coffee? I'm kinda tired."

"One cup", you murmur, resting your weight against your wife's side. She leans in and kisses your temple. Then she walks you outside, to the dock and the lake. She shows you the letters you carved into one of the wooden boards, which are the initials of all your names. She makes you sit down and dip your feet in the water, causing a memory of Masha doing the same thing — only as an infant — to light up in your mind.

You watch Archer sit in the hammock and stare up at the sky. Lilia joins him, and they squabble over who gets to sit in it. A cat appears from the bushes that are on the other side of the lake, and they both get up to try and lure it with 'pspsps'-noises and a bag of pretzels.

You go back inside and make dinner. You recall the first fight you had, which makes Natasha laugh and pull you into a kiss. You curl up on the couch, with Lilia in your lap and your head on Natasha's chest, and watch the same black and white movie you watched in the drive-in way back.

"Still old", she mumbles into your ear. You smile and tilt your head up. Her lips press against your forehead.

Once the kids are in their pajamas, you all gather in the main bedroom. Archer drags his mattress into the room, so Masha and Lilia follow in suit, and now you're all cuddled up. Your oldest daughter brought your beloved mug along, this time filled with milk instead of coffee.

Your voices are soft, the words hushed. The kids have started chattering quietly — well, Lilia not really; she's out cold.

You look at Natasha again. Her eyes meet yours, and you recognize everything your brain can't remember.

Can't remember yet, you remind yourself. You've gotten this far, and you'll get further.

"I love you", you mumble. "I know that much."

"I love you too", she whispers, her lips pressing against yours in a brief kiss. You close your eyes and sink into this feeling. It's a feeling you may not always remember, but will always recognize. "You don't need to know me for me to love you."

Masha and Archer both cuddle up at Natasha's side. Your daughter reaches for your hand and you squeeze it. When Natasha starts humming the tune of a Russian lullaby she used to sing to the kids when they were still little, you close your eyes and quietly hum along. The melody returns easily, and the memory comes to life again, vibrant and warm.

A nursery, a swaddled baby, a nightlight in the shape of a sailboat. Drops of warm milk on wrists, feverishly reddened cheeks, the uncertainty that comes with being a new parent.

Outside, the water laps at the shore. The moon bathes the room in a milky light. No light pollution out here, thankfully.

The kids go quiet. Natasha pulls out the notebook and opens it, finding the page where you left off during the car ride. You glance at it, then lean up to kiss her cheek. Her voice is a quiet murmur when she begins telling the story of your first months of marriage. Not all of the memories return as readily, but that's okay. Listening to her retell them may be enough for now.

You turn your head and bury your face in her chest. Her heartbeat is a rhythm you'd recognize in a thousand lifetimes.

You thought it all started at the fun fair, where you met. But lying here, with the lake outside and the mattress on the floor, with the chipped mug in your sleepy daughter's hand, you realize that this is where it began.

The walls hold secrets that never touched the notebook. 

It all started in a small house by a lake, and it ends there as well.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

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

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

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

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

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

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[castiwls]

first dates club .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; you both finally take the next step

Notes; writers block is a bitch

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“You’ve not been on a date in how long.” Patrick grinned his eyes almost lighting up at the information. 

The last time you’d been on an actual date had to have been before Noah had been born. Your ex had pretty much lived at work after his birth and only three years later you’d been divorced and trying to juggle motherhood and a job.

You shook your head placing your bag down on the couch. “Nine years almost.” Patrick hummed leaning against the door as you fixed your hair for what must have been the hundredth time in the last few hours. When you’d agreed to this date the thought of being nervous hadn’t even crossed your mind but you’d had a pit in your stomach ever since you’d dropped Noah to your parents.

You knew it was just Patrick. The same Patrick who you’d watched burn toast more then once and yet you still felt a need to impress him. You wanted this to go well and so did he.

“So I guess even if I fuck this up you won't know.” He teased stepping over to stop your fiddling. “Stop messing with your hair.” He squeezed your hand once before gently moving it down to your side. “You already look amazing.” 

Perfect even. He could practically see the tension radiating off you in waves as you took a breath. 

You could do this.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“I actually think I fell asleep.” 

“You were snoring Patrick the whole cinema could hear you.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” He huffed taking another fry from the basket. He held your gaze for a moment before you both broke into a quiet chorus of laughter at the memory. In all fairness the movie was bad - some sort of war thing you’d picked on a whim before going for dinner. 

“I'm pretty sure I saw some drool.” You grinned taking a sip of your drink. “Hey-” You yelped as his foot hit against yours. “I don’t drool.” He frowned reaching across to take a chip from you. “It’s cute.” 

Patrick rolled his eyes leaning forward on his arms. “Whatever you say.” He reached for another chip before you hit his hand away. He gasped feigning hurt as he fell back into the booth. “You wound me! My own date hitting me after i paid for her food! The cheek.” You huffed a laugh watching him with a fond look as he pretsned to look his hand over.

“Remind me never to piss you off again damn.” 

“You're such a child.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

The world was quiet almost as you both left the diner, his hand in yours. “£5 for a coke.” He grumbled pulling you towards the car. “We had like 3 each that's why it cost so much.”

“Still!” He paused turning to face you. “Daylight robbery. Your lucky i like you so much.” He grinned stepping closer his chest almost touching yours as he looked over your shoulder for a moment. His hand curled over your shoulder a small smile pulling at his lips as he leant closer to your ear “She’s still watching us.” 

You hummed turning back to look at the old woman who’d been staring at you both all evening ever since Patrick had loudly announced his favourite sex position for £10 from you. “No wonder.” You laughed. “I think you might have scared the poor woman for life when you basically yelled it down her ear.”

He shrugged looking back to you. “Maybe she needs some excitement.” He teased before getting a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Like someone else i know.”

A frown pulled at your lips as you pulled back ever so slightly to properly look at him. “And what exactly does that mean?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Are you calling me boring?” He grinned shrugging. “You haven’t been on a date in nearly a decade and all you do besides talk to me and Noah is work. Your the definition of boring.” 

Your heartbeat seemed to pick up as he leaned down, his breath ghosting your lips as that damn grin only seemed to widen. It was almost as if he held a switch of sorts and the moment he flicked it any and all confidence and snarky comments seemed to die on your tounge and you felt like a teenager again.

His eyes glanced over your face as your cheeks redened, your lips parting as you took a breath. “All you do is play tennis.” Your mouth finally seemed to work but your tone had little to none of the bite you would have liked. 

Patrick hummed - he loved this. He loved watching you get flustered, the way you’d never admit it out loud but you could only hold your own for so long before falling right into his hands.

He loved the you which would call him every name under the sun and also the you who would sit closer then needed during movies on your couch. 

“Well…thats more interesting then whatever it is you do all day hm?” He murmured pushing a strand of hair back from your face before brushing his thumb over your cheek. 

Neither of you would deny that you were closer then you should be. Any sort of professionalism had been thrown out the moment he’d started staying round and you’d began spending your nights curled up on the couch and adding an extra place to your dinner table.

You were all but dating except in title and more intimate actions.

“I don’t think it is actually. You hit a ball with a racket.”

“I have many…more talents then just hitting a ball with a racket.” He paused almost debating his next words before a playful glint shined in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure i proved that first night.”

Your eyes widened before you shot a look around you before hitting him on the arm a bashful smile pulling at your lips as your cheeks reddened. “Patrick…don’t say that in public.” You chastised as he laughed pulling you back when you stepped away.

“You love it.” 

He wrapped a hand over your waist smiling. “C’mon I can’t tease the woman i’ve slept with about what i know she liked.” 

Patrick pouted his words hesitant almost as he spoke. In all honesty he wasn’t really sure what you were anymore. In his head he’d started referring to you as an unofficial girlfriend but he knew damn well he could ruin this all by saying that out loud.

You’d never given any hints you saw him in that way. Sure you liked him but whenever you spoke about dating you’d seemed hesitant - your ex had fucked up bad and now it seemed he was paying the price.

“Woman you slept with huh? Is that all i am?” You asked your eyes narrowing almost in challenge much to his surprise. “We practically live together. Roommate is more fitting.” You said but the glint in your eye said different. You were still teasing him. Waiting to see what he would say.

Waiting to see if he would take the next step.

He nodded pretending to think it over for a moment. “Is there a more fitting title.” You hummed at his question your fingers drumming over his shoulder. Your head tilted as you watched him almost expectantly.

“That depends. What do you want me - us to be?” 

Patrick paused his eyes lighting up almost. This was his chance. You were giving him an opening.

“What about…” He trailed off his hand on your waist rubbing circles as he ducked his head down, his nose brushing against yours. “Girlfriend maybe?”

A warmth spread through your chest, your eyes lighting up as waited anxiously almost for your next words.

“I like that more.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

tag list: @popcorntales @shecriestotheclickingoftime @antobeee @awhore4moree @yoitsme-04 @stankface

[concreteangel92]

Hey! I have a request for you :3

I love your writings so much and I thought you'd be the perfect writer for this. I need a wedding fic with Noah so bad!!😭 I've seen so many Dad! Noah but not a single wedding fanfic. And I desperately need a romantic, emotinal one.

(ofc it can end with smut too eheheheh)

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings, just descriptions of spicy polaroid pictures

I do have a couple weddings fics already actually which I will link here and here ☺️

I had a sudden idea for this which is more on the funny/fluffy side of things as one of my wedding works is an emotional one so I thought this would be a nice route to go down so I hope you enjoy, but obviously let me know if you want something different and thank you for the trust in my work haha 🖤

Also if I ever get married, I fully intend on doing this ahaha 🤣

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Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

Today was your wedding day to your best friend and soul mate.

Noah had made sure that you had everything you wanted, the perfect dress, your favourite flowers, favourite cake, the most beautiful venue. Nothing was too much for your big day.

So you decided to give him a special wedding present as a personal thank you.

You had gone out and brought a brand new black and red lace lingerie set, one you knew that would have his jaw on the floor and you had modelled them with a polaroid camera and had planned with your best and oldest girl friend, who was your maid of honour, to give them to him randomly throughout the day on the quiet.

The photos started out fairly tame. The first was a full body shot showing the set off in all its glory with you smiling at the camera.

The first picture that your friend gave to him you didn’t see as it was before the ceremony, but you’re friend had recorded his reaction however and it was priceless

••••••

Your best friend walked up to Noah as he was stood with Nicholas and the guys as they waited for you to arrive.

She went up and gestured for Noah to come to the side, he had a look of confusion on his face as she handed him a small envelope and said from behind the camera “for you from y/n”

Noah opened the envelope and pulled out the photo, his eyes going slightly wide as a smirk appeared on his face.

“For fucks sake”

He giggled while shaking his head and put the photo in the inside pocket of his jacket, not before having one more glance at it.

“Tell her thank you”

••••••

The ceremony itself was absolutely perfect. You and Noah couldn’t stop smiling at each other and you even caught him wiping away some stray tears as you walked down the aisle.

You had finally married the man you loved surrounded by all your friends and family.

The rest of the day was spent giving Noah the rest of his presents.

The next photo was a particular favourite of yours, you were bent over on the bed, ass high in the air, one of his favourite positions.

You were both sat at the table for the wedding dinner and drinks and you watched as your friend tapped him on the shoulder and his eye brows raised slightly as he took the envelope.

Noah glanced at you as he opened it, once the photo was in his hands, he quickly put it against his chest so no one else could catch a glimpse of it.

“Dear god….you’re killing me here babe”

You giggled and acted like it was the most innocent thing ever.

“I have no idea what you mean baby”

Noah shot you a look before putting that photo in the inside pocket to join the other one.

“You know exactly what you filthy minx”

You smirked and sipped on your drink as you then turned your attention back to the toasts.

Everyone sat at their tables and ate the amazing food that you’d had brought in for the wedding dinner, you watched as people chatted and laughed together with a smile, feeling Noah’s fingers laced with yours.

You gave your friend a wink when you caught her eye to signal the next photo.

By now Noah had fully clocked on that if he saw her coming over then a photo was on its way and you watched as he was chatting to Nicholas and he laughed quietly to himself as another envelope was passed over.

“What’s that dude?”

Noah sat back in his chair with a smile and kept the envelope turned away from Nick.

“Never you mind”

Noah took a breath and pulled out the next polaroid.

He let out another shaky breath as he took in the image of you biting your lip as your hand was pulling the bra down but your nipple was still hidden in a teasing manner.

Noah stared at the photo longer than the others before that too joined the collection.

“How many of these are there?”

You gave him a wink and carried on eating.

The night continued onto your reception where you’d just had your first dance as a married couple.

It had been the most magical moment, you both felt like you were the only two people on earth as you swayed in each other’s arms to your song.

Noah had almost forgotten about the pictures. Until your friend walked up yet again with another envelope and a cheeky laugh as his flushed cheeks.

You couldn’t hold back the giggle as you watched him open this one.

This particular photo saw you now topless and sitting, legs spread wide on the mattress in your shared bedroom.

You heard a low groan coming from Noah’s throat as he stared wide eyed.

“Fuck me…we’re going to have to wrap this up soon”

You could see the hungry look in his eyes as he glance over at you.

“Not long to go baby”

There was only one more photo. The rest of the evening you spent dancing and drinking and loving every second of the night with Noah and your loved ones. As the night started to come to an end, you watched as your friend gave Noah the last envelope.

Noah looked at you and shook his head as he opened it.

This time Noah didn’t even try to hide the low guttural growl that emitted deep from within his chest.

The last and final polaroid showed you completely naked kneeling on the bed with the lace thong stretched out playfully between your fingers as you smiled cheekily.

“That’s it, the wedding is over, we have to leave now”

Noah playfully picked you up, ignoring your scream as he carried you out of the venue.

“Noah we have guests”

You couldn’t stop the laughter as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

“And I really couldn’t give a fuck, I intend to properly make you my wife all night and that set better be ready when we get home”

[enemiestolovershoe]

Warmth and Care

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah takes care of reader while she‘s on her period

Words: 885

Warnings: Period and Cramps

A/N: Another version of this was requested but I felt like writing a second version just with Noah and Reader. But click here to read the other Version.

The soft glow of the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. Normally, you loved mornings like this—warm, serene, and quiet. But today was different. You lay curled up on your side, buried beneath a pile of blankets, clutching your stomach as a familiar, dull ache radiated from your abdomen. You groaned softly, shifting to try and find a position that didn’t make you want to cry.

You heard the faint rustling of movement outside the bedroom door, followed by the quiet click of it opening. “Babe?” Noah’s voice, warm and slightly raspy from sleep, reached you. You didn’t look up, too focused on managing the pain in your belly.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremor in your voice gave you away.

Noah crossed the room quickly, his bare feet silent on the carpet. He perched on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes filled with concern as they scanned your face. “What’s going on?” he asked softly, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Cramps,” you admitted weakly, closing your eyes. “It’s no big deal.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You look miserable,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “What can I do? Do you need medicine? A heating pad? Food?”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight of him. His hair was a mess of soft waves, his hoodie slightly rumpled, and his brow furrowed in concern. “I just need to rest,” you murmured. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to fuss over me.”

Noah didn’t move, his hand still gently stroking your hair. “Fussing is kind of my thing, you know,” he said with a small smile. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you could protest, he was up and out of the room. You heard the faint sounds of him moving around in the kitchen—cabinet doors opening and closing, the clink of mugs, the hum of the microwave. Curiosity tugged at you, but the effort to move felt like too much.

A few minutes later, Noah returned, balancing a tray in his hands. “Room service,” he announced softly, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“What’s all this?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Tea,” he said, handing you a steaming mug of chamomile. “I added honey because I think that’s supposed to help with cramps or something. And I brought you some toast in case you’re hungry.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, taking a careful sip of the tea.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply. “If you’re hurting, I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing.”

As you sipped your tea, Noah held up a heating pad he’d unearthed from the bathroom. “Want me to heat this up for you?”

“Yes, please,” you said gratefully.

While he handled the heating pad, he kept glancing back at you. “Do you want to watch something? I can set up Netflix. Or we could do one of those mindless true crime shows you like.”

You chuckled, touched by his willingness to cater to your every whim. “I’m good with whatever,” you said, your voice still soft but more relaxed now.

When he returned, the heating pad was warm and ready. Noah carefully tucked it under the blanket, adjusting it until it was snug against your stomach. “Better?” he asked, sitting beside you.

“Much better,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and grabbed the remote. “Okay, rom-com or murder mystery?”

“Rom-com,” you said with a grin. “But you hate those.”

“I’ll survive,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Besides, I’m here to make you feel better, not myself.”

The next hour passed in cozy bliss. Noah sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, occasionally making sarcastic comments about the movie’s cheesy plotline. You laughed weakly at his remarks, grateful for the distraction from the lingering cramps.

At some point, Noah got up and returned with more snacks and a bottle of water. He handed them to you without a word, sitting back down and pulling you close again. His hand found its way to your back, rubbing soothing circles as the movie played on.

When the credits finally rolled, you turned to him, your heart full. “Thank you,” you murmured, looking up at him.

“For what?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“For taking care of me. For making me laugh. For being the best boyfriend ever,” you said, your voice warm with sincerity.

Noah smiled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Always,” he said softly. “You’d do the same for me.”

He stretched out beside you, pulling you into his arms so you were nestled against his chest. His steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body eased the tension that had been gripping you all morning. As his fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, you felt the pain and discomfort melting away, replaced by the overwhelming comfort of being loved.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think that no matter how bad the cramps got, you’d always have Noah to make it better.

Taglist: @courta13

[thisisntablogspost]

Say You’re Mine - Miniseries

READ PART ONE HERE

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warning: MDNI! This miniseries contains triggers that may cause a negative effect to the consumer. This includes cheating, forced proximity, toxic dom/sub dynamics, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, coercion, manipulation, unprotected piv (don’t do this). The reader is consenting and allows these things to happen to them.

Authors note: Thank you so much for the positive feedback! I hope you enjoy part two as much as I did writing it! If this isn’t something you don’t want to read please avoid and I’ll catch you on the next one! If I missed any other triggers please dm me so I can add them. I want you all to be safe when reading my fanfics. Your mental health matters. 🖤

Part Two.

It’s only been a week since you last saw Noah. You’ve been on edge ever since your last “endeavor” with him. Ryan hasn’t noticed anything different, of course he hasn’t. You feel bad that you allowed Noah to manipulate you so easily. It’s what he does best.

A group chat message is sent out about a get together today around noon. Your stomach drops when you see that Ryan replied that you two would be attending.

“I don’t want to go, Ryan” you say immediately when he walks out of the bathroom. He looks at you with a confused expression on his face.

“Why? You had fun last week at the Halloween party, right? I was bummed I couldn’t go” he sighed, sitting down on the couch as you stood in the kitchen making breakfast for the two of you.

You look up to meet his gaze, you offer a smile.

“I did…but it wasn’t the same without you.” You grab the spatula mixing the eggs together, making sure they cook through completely. The buzzer on the toaster goes off signaling the toast is done. He watches you gather everything together for you both, he comes to the table and helps you set up the table.

“Come on, y/n. It’ll be fun. Besides, your plus one will be with you. Please, baby” he gives you that damn pouty lip and puppy dog eyes. You laugh. You step up on your toes to give him a kiss. His green eyes staring into yours with so much love. It made you queasy that you messed around with Noah. The guilt is eating you up inside, yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth of what happened.

“You’re annoying, haha, okay fine. We can go.” He fist bumps the air, you laugh again as you bring over the rest of the dishes for breakfast. He lets you set down everything and wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a passionate kiss.

—

You and Ryan arrived at the house. Ryan shuts off the car, taking out the keys, and gets out making his way to your side to open the door. You thank him, your heart is pounding, your palms are sweaty. You truly don’t want to be here. You don’t want to be put in the same situation again. You don’t want that temptation to be presented to you. Ryan walks in front of you to knock on the door, jolly answers with a hello and smile. Jolly steps aside to let you and Ryan in. Your eyes darted around the room to look for Noah. You’re taken away from your thoughts. You smile, hugging jolly and the rest of the guys. Ryan went off with the guys and you are alone. You walk over to the kitchen, spotting the cooler, and opening it to get out a cold bottle of water. You twist the lid, drinking a large gulp. You look over to see Noah looking at you. You freeze in place, like a deer caught in headlights.

Noah smirks, pocketing his phone. He crosses his arms and sinks into the couch. He’s watching you like a predator watching his prey. You could tell by his widening smile that he loved the effect he had on you. He loved how nervous you would get in his presence. He had you right where he wanted. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes trailed along every inch of you. You are exactly how he wanted you tonight. Uneasy and on edge. He is loving every second of it. You find the courage to follow Ryan, and the guys. You didn’t want to give Noah an opportunity to mess with you, because by the looks of it. He is enjoying this twisted game.

As the night went on, you kept close to Ryan. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His gentle caresses up and down your arm. He places a kiss on your cheek. In the midst of the chatting, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Ryan lets go of you and goes back to the conversation. You look over to see Noah isn’t anywhere in sight. You breathe a sigh of relief as you walk down the hallway to the bathroom.

You close the bathroom door behind you. You turn to the mirror. You look a mess. You run your fingers through your hair to fix what you could. Why did he have such an effect on you like this? You close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling. He must’ve left. You haven’t noticed him for a while. You hear footsteps, your eyes moving towards the door. You realize you didn’t lock it. You rush to the door. Noah pushes the door open, quickly pinning you to the wall as he shuts the door locking it. You yelp, everything is happening so quickly. You look up and whimper. His hand instantly finds your jaw, holding you still as his hand tilts your head to look up at him, his face close to yours.

"Look at you…all fidgety, nervous…and I’ve barely done anything"

“Noah…you need to leave” His hand cups your jaw, his hold is firm. His voice is low as his thumb softly rubs your chin.

"You know I’m not going anywhere, right?"

“My boyfriend is here.” You move away from him. You turn your body around to face the counter, and bathroom mirror.

"I know you can't help how you get all worked up for me.” He gets close and presses his chest against your back. You look up at his reflection in the mirror. It’s all too much. This close proximity of him. You try to turn, he holds you in place. He bends forward resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Please..” You don’t know what you’re begging for.

"Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“I’m going to leave this bathroom, and you are not going to follow me.” You glare at him in the mirror. That smug look is a permanent expression on his face as he listens to you.

"You know you don't mean that. You know you need me to touch you again. I own this body, and you know it.” He purrs, his hand trails along your side. Once again, you are at his mercy. You grip the counter. His hands trailing down your back. He pulls your hips against him.

"There it is. Poor thing, look at you. You’re already reacting to me, and I’ve barely done anything.” He says, rubbing his hand along your lower back. You look at his expression. His eyes are trailing over your body as you’re pressed up against him. You whine at his touch, his arousal right up against you. He smirks, biting his lip, meeting your gaze in the mirror. His hand slowly dancing along your waist, and over your hip bone.

"You know what’s funny? You keep acting like you don’t want this, like you don’t want me. Here you are, pinned against the counter, my hands roaming over your body. You haven’t told me to stop. I think you’re lying to yourself.” He snickers, his fingertips caressing your inner thigh.

"I know you need me. You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

“Noah…I…I” You look away from his gaze. He’s quick to turn your head to look up at him.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice is low and husky. His eyes search yours, waiting for your response. You nod your head yes.

"You want me to stop touching you? You want me not to take control, is that right?" A wicked grin spreads across his face. He pulls away slightly, only to settle next to your ear. You return your gaze to the mirror. You lock eyes with him. Did you want him to stop? His smirk grows, knowing he's got you right where he wants you.

“I…” You hear the knock on the door. Noah smirks, the asshole.

“Yes? Occupied.”

“Y/n? You okay in there?” Your eyes widened. Fuck. It’s Ryan. You struggle to find the right words. Noah’s eyes wandering over your body, the door knob is jiggling.

“I…my stomach hurts…I think it was the food we ate earlier” you say calmly, if he only knew your heart was racing. Noah chuckles darkly in your ear.

“You want me to take you home? Or you want to lay down?” Your heart aches hearing his concerned voice. He truly cares about you. You sigh, looking up at Noah’s reflection in the mirror. You should be telling Noah to fuck off, but you can’t. His hand rubbed your inner thigh softly, seeing how this was such a perfect opportunity. He could do whatever he wanted. Even when your boyfriend is at the door. You are his, and he knew you are weak beneath him. You couldn’t deny him. You grip the counter tighter, trying to not moan or make a sound as he ran a hand over your pussy.

“N-no…I’ll..I’ll lay down after I’m done in here” You try smacking Noah’s hand away, he grabs your wrists, holding them behind your back.

“Okay, babe. Let me know if you need anything.” You hear him walk away.

“So what are you going to do, huh? Get me all riled up again then stop? That’s your plan, right?” His grip on your wrists loosen, letting your hands free. They go back to the counter to steady yourself. His fingers slowly dance along your inner thighs, trailing over your clit. You whine, you look up at him. You feel your arousal soaking your underwear.

"Your boyfriend is outside right now, you know? I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be with him, yet you're right here in your ex's arms. You’re whimpering and wanting me instead.”

“Fuck off, Noah” He chuckles, his hands trailing up your spine. He pushes you down firmly against the counter. You cry out, his hand covers your mouth. He leans over you, his breath fanning over your neck.

"Look at you being so defiant when I know how badly you want me. You can't help that your body yearns for me, even just the sound of my voice makes you weak. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” You struggle underneath him, but it’s no use. He keeps you in place. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me? It rings loudly in your head. You shiver, the state of submission coming over you.

“Nnn..yes”

"Then say it. Admit you want me, beg me the way you used to…" His voice is low against your ear.

“I..I want you…”

"Good girl. Now admit you need me, tell me how bad you missed me, and my touch”

“I crave it. It’s all I can think about. It..it scares me how bad I want you” Your pleading expression meets his gaze. His fingers gently scratch your inner thighs as he purrs in your ear.

"That's a good girl. You’re so honest, so weak for me. Look at you trembling underneath my touch, my words. You missed this, didn't you? You missed belonging to me. Oh, but you’re forgetting something, sweet girl” He expression darkens. You know what he’s talking about. You calling him his title, the one he burned into your memory, and my god if you forget it.

“Y-yes, sir..”

His growl sends chills down your spine. You look up at him, he is quick to turn your face back to the mirror.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Please…”

"I need words, use your words. Are you going to be a good girl and tell me what you want?” He chuckles darkly as his fingertips brush over your pussy again, barely touching you. He bends close to your ear to whisper.

“I need you. Please…please…touch me” He smacks your ass hard. Your breath hitches. You jolt forward at the sudden impact from his hand. Noah chuckles darkly. He smacks your ass again. He soothes the sting causing you to squirm as he kneads your red bottom.

"Be a good girl for me, and ask me properly..."

“Please, touch me, sir”

"Good girl, where do you want me to touch you?” He smirks, loving how you beg. His roughness is all telling how badly he needed you.

“Please, touch my pussy, sir. Please.” You moan, feeling his fingers trail all the way, slowly, barely touching you. He was enjoying this, loving how a single touch from him can make you lose control.

"Right here?” You whine, a feather like touch. One to make your body tingle.

“Y-yes, sir” Your breath hitches, your head dropping low.

“Do you need me as badly as I need you?” His breath hot against your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin as he moves your underwear to the side.

“Mmm..yes, sir”

"You're being so good, behaving, begging for it. Only I can make you weak like this, right?" He chuckles darkly, and purrs in your ear.

Yes, sir. Only you make me feel like this.” He pulls his hand away. You whine as he grips your throat making you look at him in the mirror.

“You don’t act like it” He teases. He’s toying with you, breaking you down slowly to succumb to his madness. You can only whimper in response, which makes him laugh.

"Look at how you react to my voice. You’re a pathetic, whimpering mess for me.”

“Y-yes, sir”

"Good girl” He whispers. His hand moves to the middle of your back, holding you in place. He knows how badly you need him. He taps your cunt lightly, it makes your toes curl.

“F-Fuck..” The sensation alone makes your head spin. You need more.

"I won't give you what you want till you beg properly, you know that…"

“I..mmmph..” you huff. You do know that. He pulls his fingers away, you whine in protest. You look at him in the mirror.

" Ah, Ah, Ah. Use your words, and I just might continue. How badly do you need me right now?”

“Please, sir. I need you so bad. Please touch me…I’ll be good, and tell you what I want”

"Go on, be a good girl or you don't get what you want” He grins, watching you slowly turn to shambles.

“Fuck me, go down on me, finger me…please do something, sir.” You hate how desperate you sound for him. You can’t help it, he brings out this side of you.

“Good girl”

"Say it one more time for me. Tell me how badly you need me to take control. How you need me to make you feel good.”

“Please…I need you…please touch me, please take control.” You push back into him, your body is on fire. You need some kind of friction to take the ache away. He tuts at you, holding your hips in place, against him.

*He brings his hand down over your pelvis, barely touching, his fingers brushing against you.

"Tell me you belong to me…" A hushed whisper against your neck.

“I belong to you, sir. Only you.” He’s repeating the same thing he did before. No, not this game. Another part of the game is to make you fall apart, and submit to him completely, continuously tearing down your walls. He leans close and presses his chest against your back.

"Good girl, only I can make you this needy. Only I can make you mine. You missed this, didn't you?" He’s so manipulative. So persuasive with his words.

“Even when I’m with him. I think of you.” He grins. His fingers continue to tease.

"Say who owns you, pretty girl”

“You, sir”

“Only me?” He nips your shoulder. You nod your head yes.

“Say you need me. All of me” You feel his hand gliding up your back, into your hair, grabbing a handful, and tugging her hair back to look at him.

“I need all of you, sir” You wince. He smiles darkly at you in the mirror.

"I'm so close to giving you that. Can you promise you'll behave? Can you be good for me?"

“I’ll be a good girl for you, sir”

"Good…"

He rubs your thighs.

"Then beg…" He growls into your ear. Your eyes widened, you just begged him. You practically gave your vulnerable self to him. This is what he does. You have to remember that. He will keep going until there’s not a thought left in your mind, only him and his words.

“P-Please, sir. Touch me..”

"Say it…like you're desperate…" he laughs, barely touching you. It’s slowly driving you insane. He grips your hips, then wraps his hand around your throat*

“It’s all I can think about, please, sir. Please” His hand tightens around your neck, his lips brushing against your cheek.

"Good girl, tell me how bad you miss me..."

“I…I miss you so much”

"Show me how bad you need this…"

“I want you to fuck me, sir. Please, please, please!” You cringe internally, you sound so…weak. He’s right, you are so weak for him.

"Is that all you can come up with?" He grins. He nips your neck. You can hear him almost snicker at your desperation. His voice gravelly, husky as he whispers in your ear.

"Tell me how badly you need me to make you mine…"

“Noah, please. I’ve been on edge for the past week, because of you working me up, and denying me. Please, I don’t want to be toyed with anymore..”

He bites your earlobe. His voice is low and dangerous.

"And what if I continue to deny you?"

“I think I’ll go insane” He chuckles darkly, loving that you’re so needy for him, just aching for him.

"You'll do as I say, won't you? You wouldn't disobey me…"

“No, sir. I wouldn’t, please.”

"Say you belong to me.." He traces his fingers along your inner thighs.

“I belong to you, sir”

"Say it again for me.” He whispers low and dark, loving how hard it is for you to control yourself.

“I..I belong to you, sir.”

He smirks. He caresses along her body and inner thighs. It's so hard for you to not just grab his hand, and make him give you what you need.

"Say you're mine…" Your gaze returns to the mirror, his eyes locked on yours. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you’re gripping the counter. His warm hands running along your body, your pussy, your inner thighs.

“I’m yours..” a breathless response comes from you.

"You're mine to take control over, and you know how good I'm going to make you feel. How weak you're going to be for me..."

“Please…please touch me, sir. I can’t take it anymore” These mind games of his are starting to take their toll on you.

"You're so desperate…so needy for me…" He purrs in your ear as his fingers circle around your covered pussy. You buck into his hand.

"Say you need me so badly that you can't take any more teasing, and denial…" He nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin. He dips his head placing a kiss on your collarbone. Your breath hitches, your eyes return to his in the mirror. Your lips part to protest, but it’s nothing more than a whine of need and desire. You let your head fall back against his chest. He holds you tightly against him. A somewhat peaceful moment between such a chaotic scene.

“I don’t want to admit how much I miss you. You’re so bad for me. I can’t help myself around you.” You feel him smirks against your skin. You feel your body melt underneath him. Your hands releasing the counter, your body weak.

"I'm so bad for you, and yet you can't resist me. How unfortunate.” He says against her neck as his hands dance over your pussy. He’s still not giving you what you want. His hands move along your thighs, he brings one up to your stomach, it trails up between the valley of your breasts, up to your neck. He ever so delicately places his hand around your throat. You look up at him, he’s already looking down at you. His hand tightens around your throat.

"Do you want me to take control over you, to own your body, and make you mine?”

“Please”

“Please what, use your words. You’re so quick to forget.” His hand tightening around your throat. His voice low and dark in your ear.

“Ahhh…y-yes, sir.” You reach up to hold his arm. His grip tightens making your head spin, and your body betray you.

"You can't help but give in to me, can you? You want to be mine, to belong to me, to submit, and give in, don't you?" He nibbles along your neck. His grip tightening around your neck, watching your body shudder.

“Yes, sir”

"I know how badly you want it. You're being such a good girl, look how weak you are, look how needy you are. You're trembling in my arms…" He says in a condescending tone in your ear.

"But you're not begging for it, are you? You need to beg me for it, be my good girl.”

“Yes…yes I’ll be good please, sir” He touches your pussy once more, you arch against him. Your body is on edge, the slightest touch from him is causing your brain to short circuit. He tugs down your leggings, tossing them somewhere. His hands roam over your ass. You look back at him, he suddenly stops. He smirks at you, waiting to see if you would beg. He knew you needed it badly, so bad you’d beg for him.

“Take them off, please, sir.”

“There we go. Look at you, being a good girl.” He slowly pulls your underwear down, finally giving you what she want. The cool air makes you shiver, yet, your body is scorching hot. He kicks your feet apart. Your body lowers onto the marble counter.

"Mm…you look so good like this. So vulnerable, and all mine.” He groans, needing you so badly. You see him drop to his knees behind you.

"I know what you need, what you crave. There’s a dark little side of you that’s enjoying this.” He runs his tongue up the back of your thigh. You moan, the feeling of his tongue and hands is otherworldly. You could feel him smirking against you. He knew how bad you needed this. He begins to lick and suck at the flesh around your pussy, but never going where you need him most. His fingers tease around your entrance, through your folds, around the entirety of your pussy.

“So wet. All for me?” You pant, whimpering as his finger is inserted into your core. He slowly moves his finger in and out of you. He places kisses along your inner thighs, working back up to your clit.

“My god, Noah…fuck…please” He stops which causes you to whine and push your hips back. You see him move back slightly.

"Please what…"

“You want me to stop? Hmm? Your soaking cunt is telling me otherwise, you greedy little girl”

“I need more, sir. Please”

"Beg one more time for me”

“Mmph…please, sir.” His hands run up your thighs lightly, the feather like touches tickling you.

"You're such a good girl begging for me.” You enjoyed his praises. He leans in closer to your core, his hot breath fanning over you. It sends shiver throughout your body. He places a kiss on your clit, running his tongue up through your folds. Your breath hitches when he does that, he does it again. He starts sucking your clit into his mouth. You groan, pushing into him. You feel your body shaking.

“You taste so fucking good.” He swirls his tongue around your clit, then over your entrance. You are crumbling fast. You craved this, loved it when he ate you out. He moves his hands to your waist to keep you steady as he worships you. You feel the band in your belly winding up tight, your breath hitches as you feel your release building.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” You grind against his face, he smirks against you. You know he’s loving how you give into him so easily.

"You're mine, only mine…" He said it in between kisses and licks. You feel your knees buckling. He adds a finger, then another. You arch your back, it feels so good. He huffs, you’re so worked up and wet. There’s no resistance as his fingers sink deep in you. He starts with that agonizing slow pace again. He turns and curves his digits coaxing you, working you as the need for your release grows stronger and stronger.

“Atta girl, so good for me. I need you to beg me to make you mine.”

“Please, make me yours, sir. Please.”

"Good girl, say you belong to me.” His fingers curl up, he knew you so well. He knows exactly what you needed.

“Ohhh fuck…right there…I belong to you, sir!” Your whimpers get louder, he keeps his pace. Simultaneously fingering and swirling tight circle around your clit. You’re so close.

"Say it again…"

“I..I belong to you, sir” You whimper, you are right there on the edge. You wouldn’t dare cum without his permission.

"Again…" He smiles, whispering against you as he nuzzles his nose against your clit.

“I belong to you, sir.” He moved his fingers with such precision, coaxing you to go over the edge. It was so bad and so good at the same time. Your mind wanders back to Ryan. Poor Ryan. He didn’t deserve this…or you. He smacks your ass, a warning. He’s always watching your every move. He must’ve noticed the change in your body language. He stops and stands up, his arms caging you in, his hands next to yours on the counter.

“Don’t think about him, turn it off. You’re only thinking of me. Do you understand? I will leave you with fucking nothing. Only the mess I made of you to clean up. Got it?” You cry out as he smacks your ass much harder this time.

“I said, do you understand me, y/n? Answer me.” He is leaning over you, grabbing a handful of hair, yanking it tightly as his lips brush against your ear.

“Y-yes, sir. I understand.” His eyes watch yours in the mirror. He looks over you in your current state. A disheveled mess just for him. He growls, his nostrils flare. He shoves your head forwards, sinking back down behind you. He goes right back to fingering you, like nothing happened. Your mind is fuzzy, you try to focus on the sensations he’s bringing you. He hits the spots within you and your eyes rolls back. His tongue finds your clit again, sucking harder this time. You squeal, he growls, doing it again. You are panting, hating that he’s coaxing you to your release again within seconds.

“Who. Do. You. Belong. To? Hmm? Whose pussy is this?” He picks up his pace, hitting that spot over and over again.

“Yours. It’s all yours, sir. I belong to you.” You whine and moan. Your knees are buckling. It’s right there.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He pulls away from your clit to bite your thighs, you whine. He soothes the sting running his tongue along his bite marks. He returns to your clit, swirling those tantalizing tight circles, sucking your bud into his mouth.

“I’m..gonna…cum.” He doesn’t say anything, he keeps going. It’s all too much, the band in your belly is about to snap.

“Please, sir. May I cum, please?” Noah could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. You are so close, why isn’t he answering. You look at him, you can see his hooded eyes as he comes up from eating you. He makes eyes contact with you.

"No…" He smiles at that, and stops. Your knees buckle, you drop to the floor. You couldn’t believe he’d deny you again. You look up at him, tears in your eyes.

“Why? I…I…” You watch him towering above you, his mouth wrapped around his fingers, tasting you. He licks them clean, wiping them on a towel. He crouches down on his knees and strokes your cheek. His thumb gently wipes away your tears.

"Good things don't come easy, now do they?” You pull away from his touch. You look away as he stands up, chuckling to himself as he makes his way to the door.

"I'll see you around, y/n. I'll let you go back to your boyfriend now. I want you to remember how weak you are to me.” He closes the door behind him, the tears roll down your cheeks. You wipe them, then look up to see the door is unlocked. You quickly get up to lock the door. You didn’t need anyone to see you in your current state. You gather your underwear and leggings, pulling them back up onto your body. You ached, you are pissed off, and frustrated.

After a few minutes to collect yourself, you exit the bathroom. You walk down the hallway, no one is in the house. You hear voices outside. Ryan is helping Folio cook the burgers and hotdogs. You walk outside and Ryan sees you instantly. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You okay?” You nod, the ache in your heart is to strong.

“I’m going to go lay down. Let me know when food is ready.” He kisses you, then lets you go find a room to get away from everyone for a while.

(Don’t hate me. To be continued 🖤)

[darkenokami]

reference sheet time!

First we have redesigns of Noah and Toast, who is also known as Mateo (for my “Search For Sanctum” story)!

Second we have a redesign of Arkosios, my fursona!

Lastly, we have a uh….ship child I suppose? for Noah and Toast (Nicolai will also be featured in my story as well but when Noah and Toast are older).

[happiest-hotch]

Deserving

Summary: Aaron has a rough day being a dad, and you reassure him that he is very deserving of your family

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Word Count: 2.3k

Life with three children is not always easy. It's crazy to think it's been over a year since you and Aaron went from having two kids- Jack and your daughter, Eden- to three, adding sweet baby Noah to the family.

Mornings, although they've become a well-oiled routine, are always a challenge, but they're a satisfying one to complete.

Today, Aaron's slightly changed the patterns. Without an early morning budget meeting, mountains of paperwork, or active case, he's home until a 10 am call time for a case briefing at the BAU, which is very rare for a weekday.

So, instead of breakfast duty, you're taking the first shower while he handles getting everyone fed. 

You don't doubt his abilities, but your morning showers are always quick and effective, as opposed to your relaxing nighttime ones, which, when you're lucky, take place with Aaron, so you're dressed and ready for the day quickly. However, the glorious difference of having someone else there is that you don't get interrupted once. 

The chaos quickly catches up when you walk downstairs and hear your sweet baby boy crying loudly, very unhappy.

Aaron's frantically trying to calm the tear, offering him different types of cereal as a substitute for his toast and every juice in the fridge as he deduces the cause of an early morning crying fit. Jack looks done with his younger brother, sitting at the kitchen island with his hands over his ears, which makes it difficult for him to eat. He'd love a momentary reprieve of being able to travel two years back in time. He adores his younger brother, but you're not totally sure he wouldn't send him back for some momentary peace. As for Eden, she's nowhere to be found.

You spot the problem in a second, walking over and kissing the top of Jack's head before ruffling his hair affectionately. "Can you stop him now?" He implores.

Aaron looks at you with similarly pleading eyes, ready to admit defeat. 

You take the plate from in front of the toddler, open the cupboard and take a different one out before you switch the food over and slide the new plate across the countertop.

In a second, his tears stop, and he digs into his toast like nothing has happened. The tears on his red hot cheeks dry as he eats happily. With a look of thanks, Jack digs into his breakfast.

"He doesn't like the blue plate." You explain to Aaron.

Your husband frowns, as confused as you were when you first noticed the quirk. "He eats off it every night." You've even learned to bring it to Rossi's for your fussy baby. 

"Only at night and occasionally afternoon snack." You report to him.

Aaron's heart sinks, and the fact he doesn't know that about his own child hits him deep down. It's no secret that he's not always there, physically much less than most dads, and it weighs heavily on him.

"Oh." He lets out, trying to mask the disappointment he feels with himself. He turns around, grabbing your favorite mug. "Coffee, baby."

You smile, kissing his lips before gratefully taking the mug. "Thank you." You glance around the room again, not seeing a four-year-old coming running into the room. "Where's E?"

Aaron quickly puts down his mug. "Shit." 

Jack chuckles at his dad's unusual swear before looking down at his oatmeal when Aaron glowers at him. 

"It's okay." You place a gentle hand on his chest. "I'll sort her." With a quick kiss on Noah's forehead, you leave before Aaron can stop you. 

Her great drama of the morning is an easy fix when you brush through her hair with the detangler meant for dry hair, not wet. She didn't inherit straight hair like her older brother and dad, and she wants to keep her hair long, which means it gets knotted overnight. You don't blame Aaron for the hiccup. He can't have known when you're the one who usually brushes his hair- his specialty being braiding- and the bottles look identical aside from the tiny writing, which you know he can't see because, although you wouldn't tell him, he probably should be wearing reading glasses. 

"What's wrong?" Aaron asks, his voice laced with panic when his head peaks around her door. 

"You're done, baby." You tell her, letting her climb off the chair and go to brush her teeth. You walk over to Aaron, hoping to provide some relief that nothing is wrong and that his children are just as dramatic as he is. "She only uses the one in the bathroom if her hair is wet. When it's dry, it's the one at her dressing table." You love your boys, biologically related to you or not, so much, but you love having a girly girl. Aaron's out of his depth. Even learning to braid took effort and nights of practicing on your hair, but he succeeded. As ill-prepared as he feels for the future, you know he'll always try for his baby girl. It's something you adore about him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes sheepishly, looking down at the carpet.

You wrap your arm around his waist, and his arms hold you tightly, both of you appreciating a quick hug in the hallway. "You can't expect yourself to be perfect."

But you are. Aaron doesn't say it, but it's on the tip of his tongue. 

"Go get ready." You instruct him. "I'll hold down the fort." 

You're always holding down the fort. "Okay." He agrees, only leaving your side after taking a long kiss that he feels undeserving of. 

Aaron's packed Eden and Jack's lunchboxes, which you're sure he's added loving notes to.

You get Noah changed for daycare, making sure he's got an extra change of clothing in his bag since he got paint all over his spare shirt.

Then you place him in front of the TV to watch cartoons with his siblings. Jack's too old for them, but he's such a good big brother that he never complains.

Your next task is packing lunch for the person who overlooked packing it for himself, writing him a note that you hope makes him smile. 

He's also effective at getting himself ready, often having to do it quickly and in the middle of the night without enough sleep, and he's finished quicker than you were. 

Aaron surveys the scene in the living room when he comes downstairs to find it quiet, much different from how you had. "How are they all ready to go?" He asks, and you see confusion where he's plagued with self-doubt.

"You did a lot of it." You assure him, aware your role this morning was fixing mistakes. "Are you taking Jack, and I'll take the other two?"

He's quiet for a second, brain buzzing away inside his head. "Yes. Yeah, that works." He agrees. 

You notice those little details, but it's easy to assume it's about the incoming stress of his workday. "Okay, well, I love you."

That gets a quicker reaction. "I love you, too." He says, cupping your cheeks to kiss you sweetly. 

"Team Hotchner?" You offer out a fist bump. 

Aaron takes it with a chuckle that momentarily halts his frown. "Team Hotchner." He turns to the living room. "Jack, you ready?"

He nods, high-fiving his sibling before tossing his backpack over his shoulder and walking to the door.

"Love you, and have a good day." You tell him, pulling him into a side hug. 

He hugs you properly. "Love you too."

Then two of your favorite people are out the door to continue their days, and you turn back to the other two. "Alright, babies, let's go."

~

Jack fills Aaron in on what's going on at school, or- as Aaron profiles it- everything minus the social aspects. 

They pull up to the drop-off zone, and Aaron stops, knowing Jack has grown past wanting his dad to walk him into class. "Have a good day, bud." He says. 

"Uh, Dad?" Jack starts awkwardly. "Did you bring lunch money for me?" Nope. Aaron didn't even know Jack's been buying his lunch. "It's just Y/n always-"

Aaron nods, fishing out his wallet from his pocket. "Y-yeah, of course." He answers. 

Due to how infrequently he pays in cash, the only notes he has are $50s, probably- and hopefully- not what you give Jack each day. 

He hands it over, and Jack scrunches his nose. "This is way too much." He states. 

Thankfully, Aaron thinks quickly on his feet. "Treat your friends." He offers.

Jack grins, knowing he has permission to carry such a large sum of money to a 13-year-old. "Awesome. Thanks, Dad." 

Then he's gone, and once he's out of eyesight, Aaron throws his head back against the headrest, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. 

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling utterly useless and like he doesn't have enough of a purpose in the family you've built together. Although you've always treated Jack like your own, you know his son better than he does, and that's a warning sign that he can't ignore. It doesn't feel like it was together when he thinks about it. He was just there while you effortlessly did it all.

It's a bad day at work. It starts before he gets there, and it doesn't get better. The silver lining is there's no case that the team can't consult on from Quantico. Still, he can't bring himself to return home when he should. It gets later and later, and his thoughts spiral as he looks out across the dark bullpen and feels like he's 12 years in the past when he was losing Haley because he couldn't be a dad or a husband. He's trying to be different, better, learn from his mistakes because he doesn't get another shot, and he can't stand the thought of letting you down. He's surprised he even got a second chance.

By the time he gets home, the kids are in bed. Jack's light is still on, but the house is silent. The TV's on low, but you're paying more attention to your phone than it. 

"Hey, baby, long day at work?" You wonder, not at all sounding mad about it. 

Aaron feels like he needs to be punished, yelled at, and made to sleep on the couch, but he's met with understanding. 

"Mhm." He answers, dropping his briefcase in his office and his keys on the side table.

"There's dinner in the microwave." You continue talking in your lighthearted tone. 

It's wrong to be short with you, and he hates himself for it. "Thanks." 

It's a pretty obvious sign.

You know something's wrong. 

He thinks he's good at hiding it, but he's not when your focus is solely on him. 

You're patient, letting him take your time as you put your phone down and wait until he's sitting next to you on the couch after eating. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

Aaron can sense your watchful stare and acts like he's focused on the TV. "Nothing." 

"Aaron Hotchner." You warn. "I would appreciate your honesty. Whenever you're ready." 

God, he loves you. There's nothing he's done in his life to deserve someone as understanding as you. "You're the definition of a supermom." He tells you. "I'm not jealous. You keep everything running smoothly here, and any stumbles you react to with so much grace. But I'm failing." You hate that he thinks that of himself. He's not perfect, but neither are you or anyone. One thing Aaron isn't doing is failing. "I barely know anything about our kids, stuff I should know, and I would know if I were a good dad. The thing is, I'm never here." Before you can dispute the claim, he continues. "I'm not, Y/n. If it's not casework, it's paperwork, but I'm never here as much as I should be. I don't deserve any of this."

You hate seeing him like this, having talked himself into his feelings all day. "Aaron." You coo, cupping his cheeks and trying to wipe up his tears. "Baby, you're allowed to make mistakes. Our kids love you and think you're the best dad in the world." You assure him. "Jack has looked at you like you're a superhero since I met him, and E and Noah do too. Every time you're away, they know you're out there saving people."

"You really think so?" He asks. "All of that?"

You nod, brushing your nose against his gently. "100%. There's never been a doubt in my mind that you deserve this family. You've got to believe me." 

A flicker of a smile lights up his face. "I do." He decides. 

"Did you eat your lunch?" You wonder. 

Aaron's unsure where it came from, but he sheepishly looks away from you. "I didn't."

You hit him lightly on the chest, scolding him for not eating. "Then you didn't see the note I added." 

"What did it say?" He asks, more excited knowing he's not in trouble.

You debate making him wait until tomorrow, but he needs to know. "Thank you for being the best dad ever to our kids. I love you." You recite.

It seems too convenient, and he frowns. "Really?"

"I think it's a soulmate thing." It's the only explanation you can come up with, having not known this morning that his stress was because he was worried about not being a good enough dad.

"I love you." He says, closing the small gap between you to kiss you.

You go in for another kiss once he pulls back. "I love you, too." You remind him. "Bedtime?" You ask when he yawns. "Then you can have another shot at perfecting the morning routine." 

He nods, grateful for everything. "Let's do it."

[erraomens]

CHAPTER 3 . Tethered by a Falling String

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Eden Blackwood Word Count: 3,160 Summary: Eden wakes from a dream she’d rather forget—one where Noah’s touch still lingers on her skin, blurring the lines between memory and desire. Shaken, she tries to push the past back where it belongs, but her subconscious refuses to let go. A morning filled with teasing from Lia only adds fuel to the fire, forcing Eden to confront the reality she’s been avoiding. Meanwhile, Noah struggles with his own turmoil, toeing the line between reaching out and staying silent. Just when distance seems like the safest option, an unexpected phone call throws everything off course. And thanks to Lia’s meddling, Eden is about to find out. -- Consider this the slow-burn emotional destruction chapter before everything explodes. Warning/tags. Explicit Dream Sequences, Mild Language, Past Betrayal & Trust Issues , Best Friends Being Absolute Menaces™ , Toast Used as a Weapon (Food Aggression / Playful Violence), Will-They-Won’t-They Slow Burn . taglist . @fadingangelwisp . @chey-h You can read the first two chapters here. chapter 1 . chapter 2 .

The bathroom was dimly lit, a red glow casting a halo around them, steam mixed with fog from the machines out in the main area filling the room. It left Eden in a haze. Her head rested against the mirror behind her, the sink’s porcelain cold against her thighs. 

It felt like a fever dream, the feel of teeth dragging along her inner thigh, fingers curled tightly in dark locks, causing whimpers to mix in with the loud thumping of the outside world. Or maybe it was her heart thumping loudly in her chest, breathing ragged, uneven as she pulled him in closer to her. His lips were hot, insistent– trailing fire along the skin of her inner thigh, leaving a path of sensation that made her desperate for more.

"I should stop– tell me to stop–" he breathes against her skin,  fingers moving to tease along the thin fabric of her panties, mocha hues finding her gaze.

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

Noah’s hands, rough and reverent, moved to grip her hips, thumbs tracing slow, teasing circles against her skin. The heat between them was unbearable, consuming, as her body arched into his touch as though drawn by some invisible force. His breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she swore she could feel the way his lips hovered—

"Eden– "

Her name fell from his lips like a prayer, reverent, aching. It was everything she needed from him–

And then she was awake.

Her eyes flew open, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like sweat on her skin. Her breath came in shallow gasps, heart hammering against her ribcage. The sheets were twisted around her legs, her body still pulsing with the heat of something that she had tried everything in her power to forget.

Eden had tried to convince herself that it was just a dream, that it wasn’t something that had crept back to the surface even after she had spent so long tucking it back into the depths of her mind.

She had rolled to her stomach, burying her face in the pillow, groaning softly as the cold hard reality came crashing in, leaving her in a state of recognition. That bathroom, that night– his words. The moment that she had told herself was the last time she was going to trust him, was no longer able to be locked away. 

Seeing him again, the way he looked at her, the overwhelming ache she felt in her soul while around him had—resurrected a memory in the most visceral way possible, haunting her in the dark.

Eden swallowed hard, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of her bed, skin still tingling, aching, desperate for his touch. A cruel, lingering reminder that no matter how much she tried to shove it down, pretend it didn’t matter, pretend he didn’t matter—

Because deep down, she already knew the truth.

She just refused to admit it.

Eden shuffled into the kitchen, still irritated, her body far too warm despite the cool air of the apartment, wondering if the feeling would dissipate soon. Or if she was to be tormented all day. The lingering remnants of her dream clung to her skin, refusing to let her go even as she tried to shake it off. She needed coffee—needed something to snap her back into reality and to erase the feel of his lips against her thighs, something she could still feel in that moment.

Lia was already there, sitting at the counter, scrolling through her phone, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. She barely spared Eden a glance, noticing her discomfort before smirking against the rim of her mug.

"You either had a really bad dream or a really good one," Lia mused, setting her phone down, leaning back in the chair as both hands cupped the mug now. She studied Eden for half a second, contemplating her next words and if she should be coy, but deciding to go for it, "But based on that look on your face? I’m guessing option two."

Eden sighed loudly, eyes rolling as she turned to look at her friend over her shoulder, muttering something about needing caffeine first. As she reached for the mug to pour herself coffee, she noticed that her hands were still shaky, the heat of the dream still plaguing her, coursing through her veins. She flexed her fingers, shaking out her hands to attempt to get them to behave for her, but she still felt exposed. She willed herself to shake it off, to act normal and to not let it affect her this much.

Lia watched her, sipping at her coffee, her smirk only growing. "Or maybe," she drawled, "you just need to get laid. I don’t think you’ve gotten any since you moved here."

Eden choked on her coffee, looking at her incredulously, as if she was hearing something absolutely insane, but only after almost choking on the liquid. Her cheeks flushed a dark shade of crimson, her own body betraying her as she told it to calm down. “I’ve gotten laid, I've gotten laid so much!” She's trying to overcompensate, to try and convince Lia that she was wrong, even though both of them knew that it was true. 

Eden never found someone she wanted to be intimate with since moving to LA.

Lia raised a brow, clearly enjoying this far too much, but she waited a beat– giving Eden a moment to finish her next sip of coffee before firing out– . “Although, I don’t think anyone could do it quite like Noah was last night in your dream, hmm?”

It was like the room around them froze, the two of them stuck in slow motion as Eden tried to find a way to get out of this, but a flash of the haze came over her and she had to shake away the moment once more.

Her head snapped toward Lia, pulling her from her own thoughts, her eyes going wide, shock and horror evident on her features.

“Ashliana Mercer, you take that back !”

Lia grinned, leaning back in her chair, clearly pleased with herself as she watched her best friend spiral in front of her. "I mean, that’s the real issue here, isn’t it? No one else can—"

Eden didn’t think, only found herself reacting to the sound of the toaster popping. She looked over, took the toasted piece of bread, ignoring how it burned her fingertips and threw it at Lia.

Lia yelped, dodging just in time, the piece of toast hitting the counter instead. "Oh my God, assault by carbs— Eden !"

"You’re a menace!" Eden hissed, face burning hotter, groaning loudly as she sat down next to her friend and hiding her face in her arms.

Lia, now laughing, moved to rub Edens back to soothe her. "Hey, don’t get mad at me just because your subconscious is trying to tell you something."

Eden groaned loudly, sitting up and pressing her fingers to her temples. 

“I think the vibrator might be necessary.”

“I’ll rush to order you one. I wonder if they have a brand named ‘Noah’, or ‘Bad Omens’.” Eden rolled her eyes as she flicked Lia in the nose.

“Not those, they seem to disappoint me anyways.”

It had taken Eden a little longer that morning to get herself together, to push off the thoughts of the night, but when she had finally gotten to the studio she had settled in her usual spot. 

She adjusted the mic in front of her and scrolled through her notes on her laptop, the glow of the ON AIR sign bathed the room in soft red, a silent cue for her to push everything else aside and focus.

Be present. Be professional.

Her guest today was Mason Calloway, a rising alt-rock artist whose latest single had become a viral sensation. His music had a raw, unpolished honesty—something she respected, but it also hit her so intimately.

"Alright, Mason. First things first—" she leaned forward, voice smooth, calculated, reassuring. "Your new single is blowing up. Everyone’s calling it the heartbreak anthem of the year. So… who broke your heart so bad that it inspired this song?"

Mason laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back, crossing his leg over the other and getting comfortable. "Damn, straight to it, huh?"

"That’s what we do here, why play it safe? Why ask unplugged questions when we can Amplify them?" She smirked, keeping it light. Keeping it distant, but still personable.

But his answer seemed to hit her, caused her stomach to drop as she became entirely too familiar with the words that he had been saying to her.

"You know, it's funny. Heartbreak is weird, right? Sometimes it’s not even about the person, or how they hurt you– at least not completely. It’s about the moment—how you thought something was going to last forever, and then one day, it just… doesn’t. Sometimes you can’t move on, even though you know you should–"

Eden stilled, throat tightening up as she was brought back to a moment, there was no warning or time to shove the memory away before it had crashed through her like a wave, swallowing everything.

She was seventeen, sprawled across the hood of Noah’s car, staring up at the night sky, pointing out different constellations. The sounds of the city around them were nothing to her, background noise– nothing ever mattered when she was with him. All she could feel was the warm summer air, and his heart thudding softly beneath her ear while her head lay on his chest. "If you could do anything, go anywhere—what would you do?" she had asked, tilting her head to look at him, eyes wide and hopeful. He had been quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "This." His voice had been soft, certain. "This?" she echoed, brows furrowing. Noah turned his head to look at her, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. "Yeah. Just this. Us. We would move away, I'd make it big and you’d be right beside me. You and Me." And she had believed him when he said he would never leave her, believing that it was the two of them against all odds. But when you are young, and in love, it is easier to be a foolish believer. Reality set in, and it happened. He left without her.

And suddenly, sitting in the studio years later, Eden realized she had never really stopped waiting for him to come back, never stopped hoping that he would choose her.

"Have you ever had a moment like that?" Mason’s voice pulled her back into the present. She hesitated for half a second too long, fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

"I think that’s a universal experience," she said finally, forcing a small laugh. "We’ve all had those moments."

"Yeah, but did you ever have a song written for you? About you?"

The question hit harder than it should have, but she didn’t flinch. She was sure that some of the lyrics that have been written and performed were definitely written for her. About her.

"We’re here to talk about your heartbreak, Mason.” A slight smirk playing on her lips. Plus, I don’t date musicians, so I can’t say that I have." she deflected smoothly.

Mason chuckled, but there was something knowing in his gaze, like he had caught the hesitation and filed it away for later.

The rest of the interview flowed seamlessly after that, but the damage was done.

And suddenly, sitting in the studio years later, Eden was thinking about the version of Noah who loved her, realizing the truth—

She had never really stopped waiting for him to come back.

Never stopped hoping he would choose her. Never stopped being the girl who believed him.

Noah's POV

The house was surprisingly quiet for once. Most of the time, it was filled with the banter of his roommates, but now everything seemed to stand still. It felt like the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for some inevitable moment of realization.

He was settled in the studio, eyes fixed on his setup while his fingers plucked at guitar strings, wondering what would happen if he started streaming again—just to keep his mind off things. But he ultimately decided against it. Maybe one day.

"If you think any harder about her, your head’s gonna pop off."

Folio’s voice cut through the silence. He was still scrolling through his phone, lips curved into a smirk, knowing exactly what he was doing. “I wasn’t thinking about her.” Not in that second, he wasn’t. But Folio didn’t need to know that. Noah paused, fingers stilling on the strings as he spun in his chair, sighing. “You’re close with her—”

“Oh no. Don’t get me involved.”

Folio cut him off quickly, already shutting it down—even though he had been meddling without Noah’s knowledge. “I already know you’re gonna be weird in the interview. I want no part of it.” He held his hands up in mock surrender, as if to say, Don’t ask me. I don’t know anything.

“It’s not going to be weird. I’m not going to be weird,” Noah retorted, brows furrowing, the lines of his forehead deepening. “It’s just an interview.”

Folio wagged a finger at him. “Says the guy who just said, ‘You’re close with her—’ which means you definitely want to know something.” He stood up, already moving toward the door to escape before Noah could drag him into it.

Noah let out a frustrated sound, setting the guitar down and leaning back in the chair. But just as he thought Folio was gone, his friend popped his head back into the room, taking one last look at Noah—pathetic and lost in his own head.

“Dude, just talk to her. And if you can’t do that…” His voice softened. “Let her go.”

And with that, he was gone.

Noah exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. His fingers tapped absently against his arm. His phone was still in his pocket, but it felt like it was burning through the fabric. A weight. A challenge.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled it out, thumb hovering over her name in his contacts. Muscle memory had him pressing the call button—only for panic to hit him a second too late. He fumbled to click end and dropped the phone onto the desk.

“Shit.”

Rolling his eyes at himself, he let the moment settle before picking it back up. His gaze flickered over the contact photo—the two of them together. The way they used to be. He could text her. Something easy. Encouraging. Maybe even promise that he’d be good. That the interview would be smooth.

Noah: Hey …No, too simple. He deleted it.

Noah: How’s it going? He stared at the words, finger twitching over the send button. It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t them. It felt forced.

With a quiet scoff at himself, he erased the message, locked his phone, and tossed it onto the desk. His head fell back against the chair with a sigh.

Maybe Folio was right. Maybe he had to talk to her.

Maybe she’d even pick up the phone.But what really stopped him wasn’t the fear that she’d hang up. It was the fear that she wouldn’t.

That she’d answer. That she’d listen.

And that it wouldn’t be enough.

Lias POV You can be all i’ve got what the diff– The familiar song brought Eden's phone to life, one of the band's own songs playing, a signal that Noah had been calling her. But before she could get to it, before Eden could hear it playing from the bathroom, it had suddenly stopped. The water from the shower could be heard still, a telltale sign that she was still in the shower, but there was panic within the blonde. Why was Noah calling her? Of course she wanted them to talk, this was something that her and Folio had been trying to get to happen since Eden had moved to LA, but this was not expected. A million thoughts swirled around her mind as her fingers flexed, tightening around her friend's phone, wondering if she should get rid of the notification of his call, not wanting a conversation that might not end well and ruin the podcast. Phone still in her hand she calls the drummer from her own phone, holding it up to her ear, yelling at him in a whisper. “Hey dummy–” “Hey bab–” “No, don’t baby me– why didn’t you tell me that Noah was going to call her?” She is holding onto Eden's phone so tightly that Siri springs to life, causing her to panic and try to click it off, accidentally calling Noah back.

Shit! Shit ! She fumbles to try to hang up, but before she could, a familiar voice heard from the other line, almost uncertain. Folio was nothing but white noise now. She had to handle this immediately. “Hey—uh, babe—” she blurted, using the pet name for cover as she scrambled for a way out. “I’ll call you back.”

She hung up on Folio without another thought and hesitantly put Eden’s phone to her ear.

“Heeeeeey, Noah.” Her voice was sheepish. “So—” “Lia?” His tone sharpened, laced with concern. “Is Eden okay? What happened?” Oh, shit. He sounded worried. “I was being nosey, she’s in the shower.” “Are you lying to me? Is she okay?”

She groaned. “Jeez, Noah. She’s in the shower. What, you want a picture?”

Silence. A full beat too long. Then— a sharp inhale, a throat clear, a poorly disguised attempt to act unaffected. “That won’t be necessary.” His voice came out too even. Too controlled. Lia grinned. Got him.

She twirled a loose thread on her sleeve. “I was being nosey. Heard that song about Hennessy—” A beat. “Go on.” Her smirk widened. Oh, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Why did you call?” she pressed. “I meant to text.” “I don’t see a text.” “I changed my mind.” Lia hummed. “Coward?” The word slipped out, soft but pointed. Like she was challenging him to prove her wrong. There was another pause, one that had felt heavier than she was expecting, then finally– “It’s not that simple, I–” The bathroom door creaked open, causing Lia to jump as her thumb hit the end button, hanging up on Noah. Eden stood in the doorway, towel wrapped around her, hair dripping, brow furrowed in confusion. Her gaze moves from her friend's guilt stricken face, down to her phone. “Why do you have my phone?” She lifted the phone halfheartedly, as if that would somehow make it seem less suspicious. Her lips parted—then shut—then parted again. Fuck. “Lover boy called, and I might’ve accidentally hung up on him.”

[albertasunrise]

Hope - Hope I See You Again

Masterlist

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So a longer chapter...Another angst fest but I hope you enjoy. Had most of this written out already hence posting it so quickly after chapter 4, can't wait to heart what y'all think ♥️)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

10 years later...

"Sarah!" Joel calls up the stairs as he munches on his toast "Hunny you're going to be late." 

"COMING!" She replied as thumping steps erupted on the landing. 

Joel chuckled as he listened to his daughter clamber down the stairs, smiling when she planted a kiss on his cheek and skipped to the plate of toast he left on the side for her. 

"You're a good father." She said as she ravaged the breakfast he made her. 

"I try to be." 

"You make some for Uncle Tommy?" She asked as her ears perked up at the sound of his truck parking on the drive. 

"Yeah, yeah..." Joel waved her off "Although he's gonna eat me outa house n' home at this rate." 

"Who is?" Tommy asked as he walked into the kitchen, giving his brother a friendly slap on the arm as he passed. 

"You asshole." Joel grumbled, eliciting a snigger from Sarah. 

"Sarah baby... you're gonna miss the bus if you don't leave." Joel said as he eyed the clock. 

"Ah... crap... Okay, gotta go. See ya later Uncle Tommy." She said sweetly as she kissed his cheek before skipping to her father to do the same thing "Still on for tacos tonight?" 

"Wouldn't be Tuesday without them." Joel winked before waving at his daughter as she sprinted out the door. 

"Ready?" Tommy asked as he unceremoniously shoved the last of his toast into his mouth. 

"One of these days, you're gonna choke." He snorted as he pushed himself to his feet "I'm driving today." He said as he snatched up the keys and headed to the garage. 

...

Joel was just finishing up laying the table when Sarah came screaming in. He couldn't understand how she had so much energy despite being at school all day and then soccer practice afterwards. 

"HEY!" She shouted, practically skipping into the kitchen. 

"Hey baby girl, how was your day?" He asked as he grabbed and placed the serving spoon into the bowl of chorizo and potatoes that he'd just finished frying off. 

"Great, do you mind if a friend joins us?" She asked sheepishly, smiling sweetly at him as he turned to see a tall boy beside her. 

He seemed familiar. His dark hair and piercing blue eyes reminded him of someone he used to know. 

"Dad this is Noah." She said sweetly "He's new and his mum wasn't able to get him from school so I said he could come here for dinner and then you could drop him home later?" 

The boy's name made Joel's stomach twist. There was no way this was the boy that had been practically glued to Sarah's side as a toddler. There are plenty of kids with that name. 

"Baby I-" 

"I know I should have asked first but Dad... you always make extra so there will be plenty for all of us." She pleaded with her big brown eyes, knowing that it would win him over. 

"I don't wanna impose Mr Miller, sir." Noah said, his head dropping "I can probably walk home from here." 

"Sit down." Joel grumbled as he motioned to the table with his head, smiling when Sarah kissed his cheek and whispered thanks in his ear. 

He watched as Sarah eagerly dug into the food on the table before noting Noah's hesitance. 

"Dig in son." Joel encouraged and Noah gave him a nervous nod before doing as he was bid. 

Dinner then passed fairly easily. Sarah talked about school and practice as Noah smiled at her enthusiasm. 

"So where are you from Noah?" Joel asked as he wiped his hands on his napkin and grabbed his beer to take a swig. 

"I was actually born here." Noah confessed and Joel's heart sped up a little "My parents moved when I was little. Dad wasn't well and so we moved closer to my grandma." 

"You don't say." Joel replied, his heart in his throat as Noah continued. 

"We moved back here 'cus mum got a job in Austin. Thought it would be good to get a new start after dad..." He trailed off, his eyes growing sad. 

"Perhaps next taco Tuesday you can bring Ali?" Sarah suggested as she gave Noah's arm a friendly squeeze. 

"Ali?" Joel asked and Noah smiled sweetly "Ali's my little sister. Short for Alison." He replied sweetly "Well little ish... She's a few years younger than me." 

"Joel thought he was going to be sick. There was no way this wasn't the Noah he knew as a boy." 

"Dad..." Sarah called but Joel felt like he was drowning, her calls for him muffled like his head was underwater. 

"DAD!" She shouted and he leapt from his skin as he returned his attention to both of them "You okay?" 

"What?" Joel asked as his eyes flitted between the two kids "Oh... Yeah, sorry just uh... Just a long day." 

Noah's cell phone ringing filled the awkward silence that had blanketed the room and when he pulled it out to see who it was, he excused himself to take it. 

"You sure you're okay dad?" Sarah asked as she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"Yeah, baby." He replied sweetly, trying his hardest to be convincing "I'm fine." 

10 years earlier...

"Joel, you need to take it easy man." Tommy pleaded as he pushed his brother back onto the bed "They cut into your fucking skull man." 

"What I need... is to get out of here." Joel grumbled as he let out a frustrated huff. 

"Sarah and I nearly lost you." Tommy choked, his eyes growing glossy as he remembered the last few weeks "We've watched you crash twice... Been told to prepare for the worst more times than I wanna remember... So please, just rest." 

"How are they?" He asked and Tommy sighed "They're doing as well as can be expected." Tommy sighed and Joel nodded "I think the kids have been a great distraction though." 

Joel smiled at that.

"When do you ship out?" Joel asked, changing the subject and Tommy signed "Sunday. Now you're not knocking on death's door, they've decided it's time for me to leave." 

"I'll be okay." Joel promised but Tommy didn't look convinced "I promise."

...

2 weeks later...

Joel watched as you puttered around the house, looking anything but relaxed as you finished clearing up after lunch. He gingerly pushed himself to his feet, wincing when his stitches pulled. 

"Need some help?" He asked as he limped into the kitchen. 

"No." You replied plainly and Joel sighed.

"Please, let me help." Joel pleaded and you growled in frustration. 

"You can help me by sitting the fuck down so you don't pull a stitch." You growled and Joel shrunk back. 

You'd been cold towards him since he got out and Joel couldn't say he blamed you. You were now stuck babysitting him as he recovered from three major surgeries on top of his daughter whom you'd been caring for for almost a month. 

"Please... I just... I want to help." 

"You've done enough Joel." That statement had him shrinking away from you as he nodded. 

"I'm going to check on Sarah." He said quietly as he limped from the kitchen.

"She's sleeping."

Joel didn't reply. Just left you to finish your frantic cleaning as he limped away with his tail between his legs.

Present day...

"Sorry." Noah said as he stepped back into the room "Was my mum." 

"Everything okay? Sarah asked and Noah nodded. 

"Yeah, just a broken arm." 

"What happened?" Joel asked, his confusion obvious from his expression. 

"Oh, my sister hurt herself during gym." Noah replied "Why mum couldn't grab me... Was up the hospital with her." 

"What about you dad?" Joel asked and Noah grew quiet again. 

"Noah's dad died a few months ago." Sarah pipped up and Joel's eyes almost bugged out of his skull.

"Shit... I'm... Shit I'm so sorry son I-"

"It's fine." Noah assured him as he gave Joel a weak smile "Not like you knew." 

"Do you need me to drop you home?" Joel asked and Noah nodded. 

"If you don't mind." 

Joel gave him a friendly smile before grabbing his truck keys off the side. 

"Come on." 

...

Sarah sat in the back as Noah directed Joel home. He couldn't help but think about the little boy he'd known a decade ago and how he'd grown into this polite young man. Part of him wanted to confess that he and Sarah had been inseparable as kids but until he was sure that he was who he thought he was, Joel needed to keep that information to himself. 

"This is me." Piped up Noah as he pointed at a house with a Large Volvo parked in the drive. 

It was nice. Exactly the sort of house he'd pictured you living in. Pulling up, the porch light flicked on and the door opened, revealing a face that Joel had thought he'd never see again. Time had been kind to you. Your hard was cut to just below the shoulders and wavy and your features had matured but it was unmistakeably you. 

"Thanks, Mr Miller, sir." Noah said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his pack "Thanks for letting me crash Taco Tuesday." 

"Call me Joel, please." 

Noah gave the older man a shy smile before turning to say goodbye to Sarah. Hopping out the truck, Joel watched as Noah jogged up to you and he smiled as he watched to greet the boy with a hug. He'd known you'd be a natural mum. 

You glanced up at him and his heart stopped. Your eyes locked and he wondered if you'd recognise him too but when you squinted before raising your hand in thanks, Joel realised it was too dark in the cab for you to see him. 

Sarah clambering from the back to the front pulled Joel's attention away from the spot you'd been standing and he chuckled at the inelegant way the 12-year-old dumped herself in the passenger seat. 

"So what do you think of Noah?" She asked as she tried to act casual and Joel snorted. 

"He's a good kid." Joel replied as he pulled away from the curb "How did you guys meet anyway?" 

"He had to redo a year." Sarah replied "Not his fault. His dad was in and out of hospital so he missed a lot of school. When they moved here the school suggested that it would be good for him to redo 5th grade." 

"Do you know what happened to his dad?" Joel asked, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible. 

"Apparently his dad was in an accident when he was little. Complications from that had him in and out of hospital but a year ago he got real sick and his immune system just couldn't cope." 

Joel once again felt like he was going to be sick. 

He'd had suffered a few long things from the crash. Back pain and headaches being the key ones but nothing following the surgery he'd had. So to learn that Alec had continued to suffer in the 10 years that followed the accident had him wanting to pull over and vomit up the tacos they'd eaten for dinner. 

You must hate him. 

...

"How was your evening hunny?" You asked as you finished unstacking the dishwasher. 

"Was great." He replied with a smile "Made a friend. Sarah Miller." He continued as he placed the plate you handed him in the cupboard "She invited me to join her and her dad Joel for taco Tuesday." 

"Joel Miller?" You asked, your heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes widened. 

"Yeah... You know him?" Noah asked as he turned to face you "Mum?..." 

"Um... Uh, yeah I..." 

Noah's eye caught a glimpse of a photo on the wall that until now he'd never looked at twice. It was of you and his dad with two guys you'd told him were friends from when you'd lived here. He looked more closely and noted how he was gripping the jeans of a man who looked a lot like Joel and then his eyes flitted to the little girl in the man's arms. His eyes widened as he studied her face. 

"This is them... isn't it?" Noah asked as he turned to look at you, pointing at the photo he'd been studying just a moment ago. 

"I was best friends with Joel's late wife." You answered as you sat down at the kitchen table "You and Sarah were inseparable as kids." You chuckled as you remembered how fond of Sarah Noah had been. 

"Why have you never mentioned them before?" 

"Because we fell out of touch." You confessed, "After your dad's accident, things got tense between us." 

"Tense?" Noah pushed "How?" 

"Joel was driving the car that night." You told him "He almost died but when he left the hospital, I blamed him for your dad's condition and so our friendship kinda fell apart." 

"But Dad's car was t-bone by a drunk truck driver." Noah pushed and you sighed.

"I know."

"So it wasn't Joel's fault." 

"No." You choked as you remembered how bad things had gotten "But I blamed him anyway.

10 years earlier... 

Joel's head was pounding. 

Headaches had been a constant complication from the surgery on his head. Limping into the kitchen, he found you leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee as you started out the window across from you. 

If you heard him enter you didn't show it. It had been a week since you'd snapped at him and Joel had done his best to give you space. Even if that meant suffering his increasingly painful headaches but this one was unbearable. 

"Have you seen my pain pills?" He asked as he limped towards you and you shook your head.

"No." 

"Any idea where they could be?" He asked as he tried to rummage through the cupboard for them. 

"No." 

"Please... my head is pounding." He pleaded and that seemed to snap you out of your trance. 

"Oh... You have a headache do you?" You growled condescendingly "Poor Joel's head hurts." 

"Please." Joel pleaded but you were having none of it. 

"Alec is paralysed from the waist down and you want me to keep track of where you put year headache tablets?" You growled and Joel immediately stopped searching. 

"I-"

"The man I love... the father of my unborn child is never going to walk again." You snarled as you slammed down your mug, making Joel flinch from the sound "He's never going to walk again... meanwhile, you get to walk away with no long-term consequences. How is that fair?" 

"I'm so sorry." 

"I don't want your apologies, Joel." You growled, "I just want you out of my life." 

Joel didn't care that you could see his tears. He stood there openly sobbing as you scoffed and turned your back from him.

"I think it's time you left." You said as your hand closed around something in front of you, turning to toss his pain pills at him. 

Joel didn't reply he just nodded. Limping from the kitchen to pack his things. 

He left an hour later. 

Present day...

Noah had been off with you since the evening he'd learned his history with Sarah and Joel. You felt guilty about how you'd treated Joel all those years ago but you'd been pregnant and lost. You'd hated the fact that your husband had been crippled for life and needed someone to blame. 

You'd blamed Joel. 

You were standing in line waiting for your morning coffee when a familiar voice caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder you saw an older Tommy Miller walking towards the bar. 

He ordered his coffee, paid then walked towards you. Only to stop in his tracks when he spotted you and his smile disappeared. 

"Long time no see." You said when he took a few more tentative steps towards you. 

"Yeah. Been a while." He replied plainly and you flinched at his tone. 

"How have you been?" You asked and he shrugged.

"Left the army. Working for Joel now." He replied and you nodded. 

"How is Joel?" You asked as you accepted your coffee from the barista and thanked them. 

"Do you care?" He growled and your brows pulled together. 

"Oh course... I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." 

"He's fine." Tommy grumbled as he poured a few sugars into his coffee before turning to you "He wasn't the night you kicked him out." 

"Tommy I-" 

"He collapsed after getting out of the taxi that had taken him and Sarah home." He interrupted, his tone ice cold as he turned to face you and leaned in closer "He'd developed another brain bleed and almost died. Ali's parents had to fly out from Canada to take care of Sarah whilst Joel fought for his life for a second time." 

"I didn't know." You choked as your hand flew up to your mouth.

"No..." Tommy trailed off as he scoffed at you "You were just too caught up in your own problems to notice how he'd started to go downhill." 

You didn't get a chance to reply. 

Tommy was out of the door before you could utter a syllable. He just left you standing there feeling terrible about the fact that you had neglected him. You had blamed him for your misfortune and you had pushed him away when he needed you. 

You had to fix this. 

Next

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[lolitasangel]

Maid! Reader x Ceo! Noah part 2

Tw-none, just fluff

hc 1, pt 1

Summary- You meet Jolly for the first, get a little back story behind Noah, and you slowly start to build new friendships. It's basically a back story filled, fluff

Word count-3,697

Divider by🫶🏼 @anitalenia

AN- I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog, my ask box is always open for ideas and HC's or if you just wanna talk <3 (I will be fixing a masterlist soon so my page will be easier to navigate) have a good morning, evening, and night!!

Noah did not like taking home anything related to work. He was very strict with himself when he first started Bad Omens Corp., he was going to keep work and home, separate. Unfortunately, due to circumstances he was always bringing it home or always on phone calls so he decided to just make an at home office to try and limit the back and forth between each place. 

You were still getting used to your schedule, wake up early, cook some breakfast, clean the kitchen, start the clothes, mop,etc. you enjoyed cleaning. Growing up with your parents and brothers you didn’t like it obviously but as you got older you liked that it cleared your head, you could just focus on the task at hand. Cleaning.  

Noah never expects you to make breakfast for him or to even wake up as early as him to make him breakfast. He really appreciates coming down stairs and there’s a warm plate of eggs, toast, bacon. Noah normally skipped breakfast especially office days on Monday, the phone calls and email were the worst. Noah would have to deal with over the weekend mess ups and complaints but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. 

It’s been a couple of days since you first moved in. Noah was very sweet to you, always acknowledging your presence and treating you kindly. The first time you walked up to the door you were a little unsure if he was going to be an asshole or not. It was nice though to hear a “thank you” and a “I really appreciate it” from someone.  

You mostly would see Noah in the morning, about to leave for work before eating, and coming home from work to eat dinner. You would see him here and there when he would stay home and be in the office. The weather had started to warm up which was nice after a long freezing winter. The first time you saw Noah’s tattoos you felt your brain freeze. It just stopped. They looked beautiful and intricately done, you wondered how long it took and if there were anymore. He had come down wearing sweatpants and a short-sleeved shirt.  

You wanted to ask but you weren’t sure if you should. You would like to know the back stories behind them but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you just never mentioned it. They every once in a while, slip back into your mind and questions start to wander around your head.  

Every few days your mother and friends would call you and see how you were doing. You would catch up and tell them about it as you would be dusting some picture frames or fixing the couch pillows and blankets. Your friends were very supportive and very suggestive “is he cute?” Rolling your eyes at the question that you knew you couldn’t avoid “Oh yea, definitely”  

“Really!” You knew they would not drop this until you gave them what they wanted. “Yea, I’ll see if I can send you a picture later” you would say back to a friend of yours “really!” Making you drop the rag “no, he’s my boss and that’s weird” causing your friend to groan in dismay.  

You loved that your friends were involved in your life and wanted know the ins and outs of being a maid to a CEO but it wasn’t anything to crazy. Yes, Noah was a CEO but he acted like any other person. Just trying to make a living and have a good time.  

After you would get done with talking to your friends you would finish putting the sheets away, “alright, what else to do” you would mumble under your breath. Taking a step back from the hallway cupboard you make your way into the guest rooms. You knew that you had just cleaned them but you wanted to be sure you didn’t forget anything. You liked to be sure you were done with a job before trying to relax.  

As you took a look inside each room, kitchen, laundry, bathroom you noticed they were all done. You had nothing left to do, walking down into the living room you reach for the remote and turn it on.  

You flipped through the channels for about 5 minutes before giving up and settling on some random cartoon. Using this time to relax and decompress for a little bit. You liked that Noah didn’t make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with and always gave you an option for things.  

“If you aren’t comfortable putting my clothes away that’s fine, you can just leave them in the basket” or “If you can’t reach certain places for dusting or whipping don’t worry about it, no one will really notice” he was realistic with what he wanted which was nice. 

You wondered what kind of work he did. Was he liking any other company or was this different? Why did he start his company? Does he have any friends? Does he even go out? 

The more these questions pondered in your head you couldn’t help but think back to the times he was home. You normally saw him leave in his suit and he never really went out, he had a driver go and pick his things up for him. And he never had mentioned any friends or anything like that. Maybe tonight for dinner you could try to talk to him a little bit more. Over the few weeks you had been living with him you could tell he was trying to open up a little bit more but would struggle to find the words.  

You would never say this but he was a little dorky. Sometimes on your days off you would hear him in the kitchen stumbling around “no, that’s pepper, where’s the salt…. salt….salt…oh that’s where the sugar is…. salt…salt” it was kind of cute. 

You knew that Noah could cook, amazing in fact but sometimes he would get jumbled up and you would quietly pop up to help him. You would in silence together, the occasional “how was your day” and “it was exhausting” you never pressed him though.  

Noah wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how to start exactly. Everything he knew about you was from your mother, but he wanted to hear you say your story. Noah knew that each person's story was different, he wondered what yours was. He wanted to come home and chat and laugh with you but he didn’t know how to initiate it. 

By the third day had been living with Noah and still getting used to the feeling of being a maid for someone, you learned Noah had a specific routine.  

6am to 10pm- Wake up, get ready, eat, leave, work, home, eat, sleep.  

It was like he was constantly on some sort of ‘auto-pilot’ mode. You had not been living together much but it didn't take a genius to figure out he needed to take a break. You felt bad that he couldn’t, even on the days he said he would be home, he would be at the office. You decided to wait a few days before trying to suggest anything. You knew by his dedication that he was serious about his work. You didn’t want to upset him or push him to do anything he wasn't comfortable with. You knew though he needed a break. Lying awake at night thinking about him and living with him you realized you didn't know him like that. You didn’t speak much of each other’s interest, just what you did today and what he did at the office. You did want to at least be somewhat close so you didn’t feel so awkward with him. Despite him being your boss and living with him there wasn’t much you knew about him. 

Owner- Bad Omens Corp. Keeping track of-  

Facts- Workaholic, tall, tattooed, cute  

A few weeks pass from that night and the pattern still continued. The final straw was when he came home. You had finished cooking dinner, it was roughly 7:30pm  

You had been cleaning the kitchen pantry out getting rid of any expired things. You figured since Noah was always busy, he may not have noticed what he ran out of or what's expired. “This is good, good, good” you were mumbling to yourself, the counter was covered in spices. You started to put the good ones back in order and toss the old ones. Closing the cupboard, you reach over, pulling a note pad and pen out from a drawer. You start to write a list all of all the groceries and necessities needed. You open the fridge and take note of what you need, check the laundry, etc. After you are done you head upstairs to your room, you decided to go for some sweatpants and tee-shirt. You didn’t feel like dressing up today. Noah usually left his card with you in case you needed it. 

You grabbed your things and made your way downstairs. Noah normally sent one of the drivers to pick up the groceries. You decided to go and try to find one of them and maybe you could get a back story on Noah. You weren't sure of where they may be, you knew they had their own lives and figured they may be at their own house. You hated the thought of disturbing Noah at work but you needed groceries.  

Reaching into your pocket, fishing your phone out. Scrolling through your contacts you locate Noah’s, finger hovering over the ‘call’ button. You really didn’t want to disturb so you decided to make it quick.  

Pressing the call button and holding your phone up to your ear, listening for the ringing. After the first two rings he picked up.  

“Hello? Is everything okay, Y/N?” you relieved he didn’t sound annoyed by the phone call. “Yes, I need to pick up groceries but I don’t have a car and I don’t know where the drivers are” you replied, rubbing your forehead with your other hand from nerves. “Tell me what you need and I’ll pick them up” Noah replied, before you could continue you could hear Noah on the other side of the phone.  

“How do you lose an entire file.”  

You didn’t know much about his job but you knew that whoever lost said ‘file’ was indeed in trouble. “No, it’s okay Noah, I can get them, I just need to know who to call” You rushed out, you really hated this phone call. “Alright, Jolly will be over soon, he will pull around up front” Noah states, “Is there anything else you need? Are you alright? You have my card, right?”  You were a little caught off guard by the questions but you felt touched that he made sure you were okay.  

“Yes, Noah, I’m okay, I still have the card, I’m going to use it for groceries. I will let you know when home” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. “Okay, sounds good, be safe” “You too” after you gung up the phone you go back to the living room to wait for ‘Jolly’.  

While you sat on the couch waiting for Jolly to come by you, you ran through your list making sure you wrote down everything you needed. About 15 minutes went by before a doorbell rang. Perking up from your spot you hurry to the door. Unlocking the front door, you open it to another tall tattooed man. “Hi! I’m Jolly” and he is Swedish, cool. “Hi, I'm Y/N, I’m Noah’s new maid” you say shaking his hand. “Yes, Noah has told me about you, how are you liking it” as you and Jolly walked to the car you started to get to know each other. “I like it a lot, Noah’s really nice, I don’t feel off or uncomfortable like the last job.”  

Jolly asked different questions, where you were from, where you grew up, and vice versa, and you learned something’s about Noah as well. He loved music, he played different instruments, he kept track of different sales of music for different artists and then later became the owner. Jolly and him had been friends for a while, taking in the same interests, him being from Sweden and what it was like for him when he first visited. 

“My mom actually told me about it, she said something a friend of a friend needing a maid and I really needed to leave my old job, I also trusted her when she said it wouldn't be bad” you joked. You really were nervous that he might be an asshole just cause. Noah proved you wrong though. He was very kind, he helped do dishes with you, sweep, cook, even when he didn’t have to. “Well, I’m glad you are liking it so far.” 

As you and Jolly strolled the isles you asked Jolly if there was any deserts or snacks Noah liked, and deciding to pick some up for him. By what you could hear on the phone you knew his day just got longer and harder to do. You knew you didn’t need to rush to shop since Noah might come home late.  

After you and Jolly finish up and make it back home Jolly volunteers to help put the stuff away. Bringing in all the bags and start putting things away. “Thank you, Jolly, I appreciate it” you smile up at him, he was very nice and you liked his accent. “It’s no problem, I’m going to head out now, make sure Noah actually gets some sleep please” Jolly joked out. You laugh and agree that you will try. Walking him over to the door and bidding farewell. You make your way back into the kitchen checking the time. It was only 1pm and Noah wouldn’t be back for a while. You decided to clean and put a show on the tv to listen to.  Quietly humming to yourself, tv mindlessly going playing in the back, you didn’t hear or notice the front door opening and closing from your back. You were currently vacuuming the rug in the living room, in your own world. 

Noah was standing in front of the door. He was too exhausted to move any further. Taking his coat off and tossing it on the couch and kicking his shoes off. He couldn’t comprehend how someone loses not one, not two, but three files in 2 hours. He had just printed them out too, and finished going over it with his team. He didn’t even want to think of what he would have to deal with tomorrow. He knew it was rough just for now since he was still getting the hang of new things happening. He was proud of himself though, owning a company, making money so he could take care of his loved ones. There was always a sense of relief though. He had his boys with him helping him along the way. Staying by his side the whole time and never letting him give up. Noah hoped he could be the same for them.  

Turning off the vacuum you notice Noah flopped over the couch. Lying on his stomach arms crossed under a pillow to support his head. Despite most of his face being covered you could see the circles under his eyes. Debating on what you should do, put the vacuum away and make dinner and wake him up for it, or make him get up, shower, eat and then rest. Deciding on the later you decide to put the vacuum away back in its spot and make your way back to the living room.  

As you walked back into the living you noticed Noah was gone, peaking over you noticed him in the kitchen taking things out for dinner. Rushing over you stop him “no, you need to go shower and relax, I cook” you say firmly taking the pan and plates out of his hands. “I’m okay to help cook, Y/N” Noah says, looking back up from the recipe book you had, the dark circles were way more visible than before. “Noah, you worked all day, and I’m your maid, it’s part of the job” you say placing the plates and pan down. Reaching over to the fridge you start to pull out stuff to make dinner. “I know but I can still help” Noah replies, you knew he needed rest from the way his eyes were drifting off.  

You knew Noah was stubborn but you didn’t think he would be this stubborn. You stood in your spot staring at him, you didn’t want to force him to do something he didn’t want to but he needed to sleep. “Noah, if you don’t go upstairs, shower, and lay down, I am calling Jolly to do it” you threaten.  

Jolly had explained to in the car that he was pretty protective of Noah, he was a very sweet kid when they first met, when Jolly felt out of place Noah was always there next to him. When he first moved from Sweden Noah helped him move and get his visa. He also mentioned their other friends, it was nice to know Noah had good people by his side.  

Hearing upon Jolly being called over to take him to bed like a child he begrudgingly made his way to his room to shower and lay down. You noticed the small sheepish smile painted on Noah's lips.  

Noah appreciated that you cared enough to ‘threaten’ him with Jolly. He was also glad you made a friend; he was worried that maybe you felt isolated or lonely sometimes. He was aware of him being kind of distant and quiet. Noah did try speaking up when you two were together but always felt stuck. Nick licked to tease him about it. “Aww does she fluster you” he teased making kissy faces, shoving him Noah told him to “shut it” causing Nick to let out a yelped laugh. Ignoring Folio laughing in the back Noah let out a groan. 

Noah made his way into his bed room, grabbing some clothes and his phone to drown out his day with music. Turning the shower to as hot as he could take it. Slowly stripping off his clothes from the day. Feeling his back and shoulders tense from the motion. Groaning and he put pressure on the sore parts of his body. While the shower heated up, he went through his playlists on his phone of what he should listen to.  

It had been a while since Noah had taken the time to actually relax. He knew he needed it but he couldn’t help but feel restless when there were things to be finished and submitted. Turning up his phone, and hopping into the shower, washing away the rest of his problems for the night. As he continued with his shower his mind wandered back to you, did you like it here, do you hate being a maid, what made you decide to do it? 

After finishing his shower and getting ready for the night, Noah headed downstairs where you were cooking. As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he saw you filling two plates up with spaghetti for him and some garlic bread. He took a seat across the island sitting in the center. You place the plate in front of Noah and round the table to take a seat in front of him.  

As you both begin to eat Noah speaks up breaking the silence “thank you, for everything, I know it can be hard keeping cleaning all day and cooking” he said glancing back down at his plate taking another bite. A smile appears on your face, you appreciated that he was thankful “you don’t have to thank me, Noah. Was work okay, other than the fiasco?” You asked, you wanted to try to keep the conversation going. You were living with the guy; you deserve to get to know him a little. “It was alright, I’m sure we will find what we need and figure it out. We are all still getting used to everything but, we can do it” Noah says with a smile. 

“That’s good, I think you need a break though. You aren’t going to get any better if you don’t actually sleep or relax.” You say, you prayed that it didn’t come off as disrespectful. Noah knew you were right about him needing rest. The boy’s said something along those lines as well. “If I don’t are you going to call Jolly?” he asked, you give him a stern look resulting in a wide smile from him. “Yea, perhaps I will” you say grabbing your plates and heading into the kitchen. “Perhaps?” Noah shouted from behind you, you could hear the teasing tone peak through his words. “Yes, perhaps” you say, turning your attention to the plates and sink, rinsing the plates and deciding to do them in the morning. “Come on, we need sleep” you say. As you both made you way upstairs and parted ways, bidding a goodnight, you smiled, widely. You got ready for bed, plugging your phone into the charger and curling up in the sheets. Today was good, you felt bad that Noah couldn’t say the same but hopefully tomorrow will be better for him.  

While you drifted off to sleep, Noah was lying in bed, thinking about the dinner you both had together. He really enjoyed spending the rest of his evening with you. He took notice on his way to his room he took notice of how clean everything was. You kept track of things needed around the house, you put his clothes away, the dishes were always done. Noah truly did appreciate you. The more he thought about you the more he thought about beautiful he found you. Noah tried not think about it often since he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or ruin your hopefully soon friendship. Noah turned over in his bed, trying to shut his brain off for the night, and getting some sleep.  

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