writingsongsinsteadofletters

[writingsongsinsteadofletters]

His Backpack

Pairing: Nick Folio x Reader

CW: none!

A/N: a tiny little self indulgent drabble about being folio's backpack bc i love him and i wanna be someone's backpack SO BAD.

The first sign of warm weather sneaks its way in, spring rapidly approaching. Nick takes advantage of it, walking back into your living room and throwing your helmet at you.

"We're going for a drive, babydoll. It's gorgeous out."

You'd never deny a ride on his Harley, climbing on behind him once you both step outside. There's a light breeze, but the air overall is warm, the sun shining.

As he drives, your arms wrapped around his waist. The wind hits you, rushing over your helmets with an echo. On occasion you give him a soft squeeze, a small reminder of your love.

Each squeeze makes him smile, and when he can, he places his hand on yours, squeezing it back.

The drive has no destination, no set ending. You two drive for hours, letting go of everything for a little while. Just you, Nick, and the open road.

There’s something so cathartic about it all, the drives. They’re peaceful, calming.

The sun begins setting; you and Nick are on some backroad somewhere, surrounded by nature. He stops his bike for a moment, slipping his helmet off. You slip off his Harley, waiting for him to do the same as you slip your helmet off as well.

“Thank you for this, Nicky. Honestly I needed this,” you smile at him.

“So did I, baby. It’s good to be back out.” He wraps an arm around you as he speaks.

The two of you watch the sunset together, a comfortable silence between you, before he drives you home, under the stars with his love.

[writingsongsinsteadofletters]

Always a Winner

Pairing: Boss!Noah Sebastian x reader

CW: Mentions of violence, language

Noah leans over a pool table, lining the cue ball up meticulously with the striped ball he’s aiming at. One of his men stands on the other side of the table. It’s one you don’t recognize, but he looks like all the other guys: tall, tattoos, intimidating.

You sit behind Noah on the couch, legs crossed in your black dress as you sip a glass of wine. You watch him play, but it’s secretly a business meeting, like all his other games. Typically your husband doesn’t keep you this close to his business. He keeps you updated, makes sure you know what you need to, but you don’t usually sit in on these games.

“So, you took care of the guy, as promised?” Noah asks the man after he finally hits the ball, glaring at the slightly shorter man. The ball rolls into the pocket, leaving him with only one left before the 8-ball.

“Of course I did. There's no way that hint wasn't received,” the man lines up the cue ball, missing his next solid ball, not even an inch from the pocket.

Right. The Sixth King syndicate had been after Noah and his syndicate, Bad Omens, for years, since you abandoned your engagement to their boss years ago. Nothing had escalated for a long time, just threats and targeting, until a week ago. A couple of the cronies from Sixth King hunted down one of his close confidants, killing him. The next step from them would be you, and Noah would never let that happen.

You adjust on the couch, leaning back a little as you finish your glass of wine. Noah hits the last of his striped balls in, calling his pocket. You watch him intently.

“You're telling me you based this on assumption? You didn't confirm? That's part of the job... Goddammit,” he speaks directly to the man without ever actually looking at him, hitting the ball directly into the pocket he called. Noah never loses a game. “You’re lucky this game doesn’t determine your fate. You better go get this confirmed, and report back immediately. You’re dismissed.”

The man is a bit taken aback, but nods and leaves the room. Noah sits down next to you, placing his arm behind you on the couch as he sighs. He places a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That went quite well… if i say so,” you finally say after a moment. There was no violence, no fight.

“Yeah… kid’s a little stupid. He does his best though, damn loyal.”

"Is he newer? I've never seen him before."

"Ruffilo picked him up about a year ago. He's been doing a damn good job, making his way up. Thought I'd give him a chance. Hopefully he doesn't fuck it up."

Soon, you'd find out just how much that kid would fuck up.

A/N: hey guys !! this is kinda a starting piece to a mob boss noah au i wanna start. i know it doesn't really go anywhere, but it's a starter and basically just a prologue. i'm gonna write random stories here and there within the universe.

[writingsongsinsteadofletters]

Hips like Jagger and Two Left Feet

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: None, fluff, tiny itty bitty mention of overworking

I was imagining The Only Exception by Paramore, but you are welcome to choose any song! Title comes from Finally / Beautiful Stranger by Halsey!

A faint song began playing from the living room, summoning you out of the office, finally away from your work.

"Noah?" you ask, trying to find him.

As you head into the living room, you find him standing there, setting a camera up. The floor is empty, the lights dimmed. There's a few candles lit, giving the room a romantic atmosphere.

"Care to dance, love?" he asks, placing his hand out for you to grab. "Thought you might want a break."

"Noah... you didn't have to. I was okay," you take your hand in his as you speak. Noah pulls you in close, his other hand on your waist. He begins to guide you around the living room.

"I did. I had to get you outta there one way or another, since you wouldn't take a break. I don't want you to get burnt out."

"Ah, you're sneaky," you sigh, resting your head on his chest. "I was fine, honey."

"Yeah, well, now you're taking a break. You're dancing with me, baby. Then we're gonna get dinner. It's in the oven right now, actually."

You sigh again, dancing with him. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Y/N."

As the song continues, you dance around the living room. He spins you in his arms, twirling you around, before pulling you in for a hug at the end. You two stand there quietly for a few moments, just enjoying the company, before the oven's timer goes off.

"Dinner's ready, baby," he whispers, pulling away. He turns the camera off, smiling at you. "For us in the future, when we're old and grey."

[writingsongsinsteadofletters]

Welcome!

Hello! My name is Lizzie. I'm 19, and I'm from the US. I use either they/them or she/her pronouns!

This blog is my secondary fanfiction blog. As of now, I will primarily be writing about Bad Omens, but my interests tend to cycle, and vary, so I may also write about other things.

I'm a college student (music major!), so I may not be quick or regular when it comes to writing, but I will try my best! This will be updated as need be!

~ Masterlist ~ Primary ~