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[trick-r-treat421]

Update

Life has been lifing so I haven’t had much chance to write lately. I promise there’s more coming but it may be a few more weeks. Sorry for the wait but I appreciate your patience!

[trick-r-treat421]

🖤🩵🖤

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for a month lol I'm so sorry.I hope y'all enjoy 🖤 Sexual content.

Early August. Third trimester; 35 weeks. My doctor told me to rest, but it's just not that simple when you own a bakery on Sunset Boulevard in LA, and it's the middle of the summer. Business was booming from summertime festivities, and there were orders that needed to be fulfilled before we closed early for the day—today was my baby shower.

I peered through the entryway from the back of the bakery, stealing a glance out the window. The sun beat down on the stream of passersby, adorned in shorts and sundresses, sunglasses and bright smiles on their faces as they soaked in the sun. I could only imagine how hot it was outside, and it made me oh so very thankful for the tree in our backyard, knowing I'd be spending the majority of the day out there for the shower. At least that way I'd have some shade.

I sighed and made my way back to my station in the back, picking up where I had left off. I twirled the flowering nail between my thumb and index finger, working on putting together yet another rose for a cake that a customer had ordered.

"So, you have any names picked out, Liv?" Juliana sidles up beside me, and I shake my head. "No, but we have a middle name. Nicholas." I tell her, a subtle smile spreading on my lips as I finished the last layer of the flower. I slide the rose onto the cake, adjusting it accordingly before turning my attention towards her cheery face. "That's Noah's best friend." "Aww," she breaks out into a smile that spread from ear to ear. "That's so sweet!" "Yeah," I let out a bashful chuckle, "but not as sweet as this damn cake. Look at how many flowers they want!"

We both glanced down at the dessert in front of me; the entire border was littered with roses, alternating between red, orange, and yellow. It wasn't the kindest on the eyes, but I was doing exactly what the customer had asked for.

"That's a lot of frosting," Jules laughs. I snort. "Tell me about it. It looks like a wall of fire." "Does it?" I nod, knowing she can't see the colors. "Oh! Check out the cake Holly made for your baby shower!" She enthusiastically waves me on towards where Holly was stationed.

I take a peek at what she was working on and grinned—it was beautiful from what I could see. She finishes the last dollop and places the piping bag down beside it, turning towards me with a sheepish grin on her face. "What do you think, Liv?" Holly asks in her timid voice, taking a step away from it for me to take a better look.

It truly was a work of art, and I was more than grateful for her effort. It was a single tiered 8-inch round cake, walled with a baby blue that melted into white all the way around. Intricate flowers skirted the bottom, elegant swirls crawling their way up the sides, meeting with a border of clouds. The cake read 'Oh boy!’ and settled on the top was a pair of blue booties, my heart immediately swelling at the sight of them.

"It's perfect, Holly. Thank you so much!" I threw my arms around her, bringing her in for a tight hug—well, as tight as my belly would allow. "I'm so glad you like it," she tells me quietly, but I can hear the smile laced in her tone. "I was so worried it wouldn't come out the way you envisioned. It's hard guessing what colors are what," she chuckles. "Thankfully I had some assistance with the booties." I pull away, placing my hands on her shoulders with a shake of my head. "It's better than I could've imagined. I almost don't want to eat it later today, but I think he wants it...so we're going to devour it," I laugh. She giggles and thanks me before packaging it up to be taken home.

Noah

"She is going to kill us," I muttered, one arm folded across my chest as I pinched the bridge of my nose with my opposite hand. "Why is the banner pink, and why does it say 'It's a Girl'?" "Well, they didn't have any 'It's a Boy' banners left," Folio shrugs. "But don't worry, we got a plan!" He perks up, a wide smile growing on his face. "Great," I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. I turn when there's a rattle behind me, being met with Nicholas shaking two cans of spray paint, a proud smile on his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna—" "Oh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm gonna do," he smirks, popping the cap off one of them.

With the banner pulled taut, I watched as Nick worked his magic, starting with the lighter shade of powder blue—Liv's mom must've helped pick out the colors. He traced what appeared to be a cloud around the word 'girl', slowly filling the area in and covering the word up completely. It looked a little tacky, but I was trusting the process, knowing how artistic my best friend is, and went back to assist Liv's mom and Victoria with finishing up the backyard.

After another half hour or so, we collectively stood as a group, Vic and I with our arms folded over our chests as we observed the scene before us. "Well? You think she'll like it?" I asked, a bit hesitant with the outcome.

All the streamers and balloons were hung, and all the favors were laid out in their designated areas. We had a table full of refreshments, and underneath our tree we had a large cutout of a hot air balloon—blue and white striped with bundles of white balloons to mimic clouds—acting as the backdrop for Bryan to take photos when Liv was to open her gifts. Nick finished painting the banner, and it seemed to compliment the theme of the party beautifully.

Vic shrugs, bouncing her head side to side as she contemplates. "I think she might throw a bitch fit over the banner, but other than that she'll—" "I love it." I spin around, and there was Olivia waddling her way through the slider door, her dress flowing by her ankles. "Even if the banner is fucked up," she laughs, shaking her head. I puffed out a sigh of relief, returning her smile, and began walking towards her. "Fuck off, Noah. She was mine first!" I'm practically shoved to the side as Vic brushes past me, engulfing Liv in a warm embrace with her mom following suit.

The guys laugh behind me, and all I do is shake my head with a light chuckle as I watched my wife reunite with her mom and best friend. My heart swelled at the sight; with a bright smile, Liv looked as beautiful as ever in her light blue dress, peppered in a floral design, and baby's breath tucked into the neat bun atop her head to match. Tears of joy sprung in their eyes as she cupped a hand under her belly, showing off the size of her bump. Her mom and Vic both gushed and placed a hand on her belly each, surely waiting for him to kick.

I let them have their moment, turning to greet Juliana and Holly as they came in through the gate. They brought in a cake from the bakery, which admittedly looked incredible, and I thanked them before placing it on the table with the rest of the food. After introducing them to the guys, I told them to help themselves to whatever they felt like, hoping to make them feel at home since this was their first time over.

It wasn't a big get-together and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, mingling about as Bryan clicked away on his camera to capture the day. We played games like baby trivia, guessing the baby's measurements, and guess who—which was sort of like this or that, but more so 'would mom or dad do that', and of course everyone was in favor of Liv, but it was all in good fun.

Before I knew it, it was time to open gifts, and with each and every one that was opened, the more this became real. Baby clothes, bottles, diapers, teething rings. A carseat, a tummy-time mat, a breast pump—which I had to snatch from Folio, who pulled it out and held it up against his chest and asked 'How does this work?' Everyone laughed, and I'm sure Bryan got a picture of it, but Christ I swear that man doesn't have a brain.

By the end of it all, my head was spinning. For such a small party, there were so many things gifted to us. Of course I was thankful for everything, and it was obvious the baby was already very much loved, but it just seemed like so much. Is he going to really need all these things? Was everything going to fit in the nursery? The clothes were so tiny, how is it possible for something to be so small?

Oh, God. We're a short five weeks away from Olivia giving birth. We're about to have a tiny human in our home. We still haven't finished painting the nursery or putting together the crib. Are we ready for this? Am I ready for this?

"Noah," I hear Liv call for me, and I shake my head clear before meeting her in our bedroom. "Could you help me take my shoes off?"

She sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back against her hands that were planted on the mattress. Her hair fell around her shoulders in messy waves, and her cheeks were flushed, indicating she had tried her best to take them off on her own, only for her belly to hinder her from doing so. Her dress had been lifted to the middle of her thighs, and I could see that her feet were swollen from where I stood. I knew she was embarrassed by the bashful smile playing on her lips and I crossed the short distance to join her.

"Sure, love." I grinned, cradling the back of her head to lay a kiss to her forehead before crouching down in front of her. I take her right leg in my hands and undo the strap around her ankle, carefully slipping the wedge from her foot. She sighs with relief; there was a deep indentation across the top of her foot and I frowned, knowing how hard I tried to convince her to wear flats instead. Her left foot was the same, if not a little bit more swollen.

I pressed my thumbs into the arch, slowly rolling up towards the ball of her foot, repeating this action a few times. A quiet moan slips out from her and I moved back to her right foot to do the same, her sounds music to my ears. As innocent as this was, it was going straight to my dick—her sounds, the proximity, her dress pulled up just enough for my mind to run rampant.

Slowly, my hands move up to her calf, my fingers kneading into the tense muscle. She sighs again and I bring her leg up to my lips, pressing them gently against her ankle. I inch my mouth further up her leg, my right hand sliding up and over her knee and landing on her inner thigh. "Noah," she giggles, "I only wanted you to take my shoes off." I lay one last kiss against her calf. "I know, sorry," I lower my hand, shaking my head. "I'll stop." Her legs start to separate, and I quirk an eyebrow at her as our eyes meet. She's biting her bottom lip and there's fire burning behind her oceanic eyes. "You don't have to," she tells me, maneuvering so that her leg was now out of my hold and over my shoulder.

She leans back on her elbows, spreading her legs further. Once again, my cock twitches in my pants seeing her on full display. I can't see her face clearly from the way her belly protrudes; I sit up on my knees to look at her and she winks at me. She presses her heel into my upper back, and I let out a breathy chuckle at her eagerness.

She assists in pulling her dress up further, settling it below her breasts. I grin, running my hands over her stomach before pressing a kiss against the bump and sinking back to my original position, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her panties. I begin to shimmy them down her legs, noticing that she's already starting to glisten with arousal. I smirk to myself.

I lay kisses on her legs once more, alternating between both thighs, inching up until I reach her mound and settle there for a moment or two. She's breathing heavier now, and I know she's buzzing from anticipation because of it.

Her hips rut towards me when I flick my tongue against her clit and take a moment to savor the way she tasted, licking a stripe through her folds. I palm her thighs, keeping her legs spread, and she squirms in my hold as I purposely avoid the sensitive bundle of nerves. I was being selfish, but God did she taste heavenly.

I spear her with my tongue, my nose running against her clit and she whines, her hands finding my hair. She knots her fingers at the roots, giving me a light tug, and a low growl slips from my throat from the sensation. She was telling me what she wanted without a single word, and I was going to give it to her.

I replace my tongue with a finger and a second shortly after, curling them leisurely, brushing against her spot ever-so-slightly as I coaxed a quiet moan from her. She begins to whisper my name, begging me for more, only to be cut off with a loud gasp when I brought my attention back to her clit. I massaged her with my tongue, meticulously tracing her in the way I knew that she loved. I thrusted my fingers inside of her, matching the speed of my tongue, and her hips start to lift, pressing herself further against my mouth.

I feel her walls beginning to clench around my fingers, and I groaned against her, wanting her to come undone. I needed her to, I needed to feel her release, taste her as she comes in my hand.

I encase her bud with my lips, lightly scratching my teeth against her before sucking, knowing this drove her nuts from the moan she always let out when I did. She tugs my hair once again, and a chuckle vibrates in my throat—I knew she was close. From her quickened breaths to the way she gyrated her hips against my mouth, it was only a matter of time.

With a final pull against her clit, her walls tighten around my fingers, pulsing as she comes on my hand. I groan, finding pleasure in the way her body quakes against me, savoring every last drop of her as if I were a man starved and this was the last meal on earth.

Her body relaxes, falling limp against the mattress. I pull her dress back down before standing, gazing down at Liv as she recoups. I grin; she was always so beautiful, even with her face flushed and her hair mussed, all the while panting with a satisfied curl tugging on her lips.

"Let's get you comfortable," I tell her after a few minutes, taking her hands in mine to bring her to her feet. "Wait," she giggles, dropping my hands and placing hers on my chest, looking up at me. "You don't want anything in return?" I shake my head 'no', grinning sheepishly. "No, love," I deny, my hands landing on her hips and giving her a firm squeeze. "I just wanted to make you feel good." Her cheeks tinted into a deeper shade of rose as she lets out a soft 'Oh'. I move my hands to her upper arms and give them a reassuring rub, kissing her forehead. "Arms up," I tell her gently.

She rolls her eyes, a playful pout on her face as she does as I instructed. I lift her dress up and over her head, dropping it on the floor before spinning her around to unclasp her bra and slipping it off her shoulders. She turns back towards me with a light smile and I reveled in the sight, from the glimmer in her eyes to the swell of her breasts and down to her belly.

She starts to cover herself with her arms; I knew how uncomfortable she was with her body now that she was eight months pregnant, but it was my goal to remind her just how beautiful she is. I cup her face with both hands, pressing my forehead against hers with a little shake of my head and locked my eyes with her iridescent blues.

"None of that," I whispered. "Stop trying to hide your body. You are still the most gorgeous woman to grace the earth whether you see it or not, okay?" I notice the tears starting to well in her eyes and she tries to blink them away. "I'm sorry," she says, barely audible. "Don't be sorry, love. It's my job to make you feel that you are." I lift my head from hers and brush her bangs back, kissing her forehead. "You. Are. Beautiful." I enunciate by kissing her nose and cheeks between each word. "Okay?" "Okay," she whispers, a strained giggle sounding from her.

I palm her belly, glancing down and admiring how my hand curved against it. She lays her hand atop of mine, and a smile breaks out across my face when I feel him kick. I bring my eyes back to Olivia's, and she had the same smile painted on her face.

"Let's get ready for bed, yeah?" I give her a kiss before retracting my hand and strip to my boxers. She takes my shirt from my hands and slips it on, giggling when it just barely covers her belly—my shirts used to land at the middle of her thighs beforehand. She finds a pair of shorts, lying down shortly after.

I lie down on my back, my right arm extended and patting my chest with my left hand. She wastes no time at all and shuffles closer to me, settling her leg on top of me while she rests her head on my chest. I press a kiss on the top of her head and wrap my arm around her, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

She sighs peacefully, nuzzling her face against me. "Thank you for today. Everything was beautiful." "Don't just thank me. Everyone chipped in," I tell her. "True. I guess if it weren't for Nick, we'd have had a banner that said 'It's a Girl!'," she giggles. "We have Jolly to thank for the food, Bryan for the pictures, Folio for the comedic relief." "Your mom and Vic for all the decorations, Jules and Holly for the cake. I really just made sure things were put in the right place," I shrugged my free shoulder. "Well, you all did great, and it's clear that baby is already so loved. So, thank you; all of you." "Anything for you, love."

In a matter of minutes, she was out cold. I grinned to myself, admiring the way she snoozed on top of me. Her jaw slack, the same strand of her mahogany hair that always got sucked into her mouth as she breathed, the subtle movement of her eyes shifting back and forth as she dreamed. I pressed another kiss on top of her head, sighing as I shut my eyes to try and catch some sleep.

It wasn't easy when your mind was on the fritz, mentally trying to figure out how this would all play out. Worrying if we had everything we needed—even though I'm sure we had more than enough—worrying if the room would be ready in time, worrying if we were both ready for this next step in life. Hell, we didn't even have a name picked out for him.

I don't think I'm getting any sleep tonight.

[trick-r-treat421]

I had the best idea for a Jolly one shot this morning but I haven’t had time to work on The Worst in Me, so I have no idea when I’d be able to work on that. Plus there’s another idea brewing based on my dream from yesterday.

I need a writing partner. We’ll talk through everything and we can take turns writing. 😂

[trick-r-treat421]

Took a nap this morning and had a dream with this era Noah in it. It was freakin adorable and like a forbidden lovers type deal. I was sad when I woke up.

i live here, just saying. as in, i am camped tf out

[trick-r-treat421]

I requested this back before I was convinced to start posting my fanfic. The positive reactions helped encourage me.

Thanks for doing it @madomens!

Sorry I haven’t been writing much lately. Got a lot going on in the real world. I may have the next chapter take place at his shop/garage though. 🤔

[trick-r-treat421]

This chick right here! She is so damn talented and has been my biggest cheerleader in starting my writing journey.

Go give her stories a read! Go… NOW!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 1A | 2A | 3A Crossposted on AO3 and Wattpad I hope you enjoy what you read! Please feel free to share and of course leave comments!!! Thank you to all my readers!

[trick-r-treat421]

I’m really enjoying this one. If you haven’t already go give it a read!

Burning Out Directory

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

MDI, this story is 18+. please read warnings for each chapter in case some things are triggering!

Chapters

Introduction

• Chapter I • Chapter II • Chapter III • Chapter IV

• Chapter V • Chapter VI • Chapter VII

Mood boards / Headcanons

When They Met • Who are you? • The Break In

Growing Up • The Deal • Heist •

Living With the Boys • Running

[trick-r-treat421]

That’s pretty much what I’m doing. It’s just a plus if others like it as well.

Self care is writing fan fiction that you are the sole target audience for.

[trick-r-treat421]

Chapter 4

Riley’s POV:

Over the last few days Noah and I had texted a little more, coming up with a game plan for our date. The closer it got the more butterflies I felt in my stomach. The day had come, and I’d barely been able to eat, I was so nervous.

It has been a long time since I’d let myself date, I’d pushed everyone away after what happened with Tate. I figured it was better to be alone, if you don’t let anyone in you can’t get attached therefore no one can hurt you. However, it does get incredibly lonely when your only companion can’t talk back.

That companion wasn’t very helpful when it came to picking out what to wear either. I’d already gotten a shower and put on a black bralette and matching thong. That’s as far as I had gotten though. I swear it felt like I’ve been standing in this same spot staring at my closet for the good part of an hour at this point, my hair still wrapped up in a towel on top of my head, lost in my anxiety filled thoughts.

Hades had long ago given up on me and lay across the rug, head on his paws, staring up at me with his big golden puppy dog eyes. Looking at the clock I had just over an hour before we were set to meet at the ice cream parlor he’d chosen, and it sent me into a frenzy.

With no rhyme or reason, I started gathering random items of clothing and spreading them out on the bed trying to find something to wear. Occasionally I’d hold something up and look over to Hades who would either huff or tilt his head to one side. He was obviously over my bullshit, but I loved him for always staying close.

Eventually I landed on fishnets under a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a black cropped top, and an oversized black and white flannel shirt hanging loosely overtop. I didn’t want it to look like I was trying too hard you know. I made my way to the bathroom where I pulled my hair up into little space buns, leaving a strand framing both sides of my face, then worked on a simple smokey eyed look and a nude lip. I’ll admit I was a little rusty when it came to doing my makeup, but it came together pretty nicely, and I even walked out of the bathroom with a small smile on my face.

Lastly, I put on my jewelry, a few rings on each hand and a choker, and pulled on a pair of black lace up boots. You know the type with a little platform heel to give me those few inches I apparently needed. Giving myself a good once over in front of my floor length mirror, I decided it was the best I was going to be able to do. “How do I look?” I ask spinning around, striking a pose with one leg kicked out to the side, awaiting Hades’ judgement.

He immediately sat up and gave me a loud bark before sticking his tongue out. It was all the approval I needed. I crouched down ruffling the thick fur around his neck and giving him a quick kiss on his nose, silently thanking him for always being my support system.

I quickly let him out to do his business, checked his food and water bowls, and headed towards the door telling him I’d be back later to share all about my evening. With a deep breath I grabbed my mini backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and stepped out into the late afternoon/early evening sun. I quickly locked the door behind me and set off in the direction of Tony’s Ice Cream.

Noah’s POV:

Riley and I had agreed to meet up at 6:15pm for ice cream. It was now a few minutes past. I was starting to get antsy as I sat on a bench outside the shop waiting. I hadn’t been on a date in a while and apparently, I wasn’t above the first date nerves. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had some hook-ups over the last year, but no one had really caught my eye or stuck out for more than one night of fun. At least not until I met Riley, the girl had some kind of vice grip on my mind.

Pulling my hands from the pockets of the leather jacket I wore over my hoodie I pull my phone from my jeans. Fidgeting with it for a moment I decide to shoot her a text asking if we’re still on, my knee bouncing uncontrollably. I’m about halfway through typing out the text when I catch someone stop in my peripheral.

“You look like you’re about to bolt.”

Looking up I see she’s standing a yard or so away with her fingers looped through the straps of her mini backpack, a nervous smile gracing her full lips.

My eyes roam from her boots up to her face, stopping momentarily on the skin not covered by the crop top. I’m caught off guard with how different she looks today, her hair done up in cute little buns instead of a messy ponytail. Her makeup was done, and her eyes sparkled in the evening sun. I didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful than either time before.

“Woah… you look amazing!” I say standing and pocketing my phone immediately, a goofy smile spreading across my face.

“Thanks, you don’t look to bad yourself.” She says shifting on her feet as a slight blush spread across her cheeks and her gaze lowers to the ground.

I fight the urge to reach out and lift her chin to bring those brilliant eyes back to mine. Instead, I motion towards the doors before asking “Shall we?”

Nodding, she steps up as I pull the door open allowing her to walk in before following. We take a few minutes to scope out the different flavors before ordering. She opts for two scoops of coffee chocolate chunk in a waffle cone while I get a double scoop of vanilla in a waffle cone, adding chopped peanuts, caramel sauce, and cherries on top.

Once we reach the register, she goes to pull out her wallet. I stop her saying it’s my treat. Of course, she tries to argue but I insist and after bickering a moment she finally gives in. With a triumphant smile I pay, thank the server, and we head back outside, holding the door for the both of us again.

Once the door closes behind me, I bump her shoulder just as she takes the first lick of her ice cream. “You know I’ve heard rumor Tony, the owner, has ties to the mafia.”

“Should I be worried you took me here for a first date?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Smirking down at her I shake my head, “No, they have the best ice cream around. Just don’t ask to see their freezer and you’ll be alright.” I pause for effect before teasing her, “I’ve heard the pumpkin spice fall flavor is amazing. I for sure thought you would go for it.”

“How dare you assume I’d be a basic bitch!” she exclaims rolling her eyes and feigning hurt. “You on the other hand…” she says eyeing my vanilla before looking back to me with pursed lips.

Laughing, I hold up my free hand in surrender as I bring the cone up enjoying my simplistic choice. “Hey, you can’t compete with a good vanilla. Though I’m not sure I’ve ever tried coffee flavored ice cream.”

She shrugs, “You did invite me for coffee or ice cream. Why can’t I have both?” She takes another lick as we begin walking down the sidewalk with no destination in mind.  “At least you didn’t get mint chocolate chip! That toothpaste tasting abomination...” She adds wrinkling her nose.

 “That was my second choice.” 

“You would!” She shakes her head in disbelief as a smile spreads across her face showcasing her perfect teeth as she bumps my side, unable to reach my shoulder.

After another few leisurely steps, I pick one of the cherries up by the stem, leaning my head back, placing it between my teeth and sucking in into my mouth before discarding the stem into the closest trashcan. Riley’s eyes following the cherry every step of the way.

“If you’re wondering, yes I can.” I say eyeing her as I chew the cherry.

“You can what?” She asks confused.

“Tie a knot with the cherry stem.” I state, smirking at her before taking another lick of ice cream.

“Oh… your tongue game is the last thing on my mind!” She retorts as her eyes return to the sidewalk, the reddening of her cheeks betraying her. “I just wanted a cherry.”

My smirk only grows as I watch the effect I’m having on her. Silently I pick another from my cone and place it on top of hers, earning a smile.

“Thank you. I almost got some but didn’t think they’d mix well with my choice of ice cream.” She says shyly before using her tongue to maneuver the cherry into her mouth, a small moan of enjoyment escaping as she savors it. Now it’s my turn to look away. Touché Riley, touché.

Eventually we end up at a playground a few blocks down the street. It was now abandoned as the sun sets; families all having returned home for dinner and to escape the autumn chill setting in. Finishing the last of our cones and discarding the napkins in the trash, I follow her as she makes her way to the swing set.

She sets her backpack on the ground before plopping down and grabbing hold of the chains. I post up beside her and we lazily swing with our feet still planted on the ground, talking, getting to know each other, and just overall enjoying the others’ company.

We talk about what we do and where we work. She works in a customer service call center but apparently hates it. I tell her I’m a mechanic and my friends and I own our own garage, Like a Muffler.

It takes a more somber turn when she asks if I’m originally from here. I’m not. I explain that I’d lost both my parents young, lived with my grandparents for a while, then bounced around from friends house to friends house, really anywhere I was provided a couch to crash on. I turned to music as an escape and eventually found my friend group. We formed a band and had some mild success in our hometown but moved here for better opportunities. Unfortunately, we never took off like we’d hoped and turned to our secondary dream of owning our own garage and getting to work on a variety of cars. Thats exactly what I have done for the last few years.

I asked the same question of her. She gives a sad smile and returns my honesty with her own. When she was 15 her parents were killed by a drunk driver. All she had left was her 19-year-old brother, Tate, who she was very close with. He dropped out of college and returned home to help take care of her. He got a full-time job and took night classes at the local community college to finish his degree. She worked after school to help, and they scraped by. Right after she graduated high school, he got a job offer here he couldn’t refuse so they moved leaving behind everything and everyone she’d ever known. She ended up taking some classes at a local community college and had a part-time job she really enjoyed. They were finally doing well and enjoying life again, but it came to a halt when she was 20. Tate was killed in a robbery gone wrong after leaving a bar where he’d met up with some coworker for drinks. The cops showed up to inform her the next morning. The only thing that kept her going was Hades. Tate had given her the puppy as a Christmas present shortly before his passing. She’d talked about wanting a dog for years and that was his final gift to her. After he died, she struggled, dropping out of her courses, and found a full-time job to make it by. Now here she was, just her and Hades.

She grew quiet as I glanced over to see a single tear rolling down her cheek as she gazed up at the stars. She looked angelic under the glow emanating from the distant streetlamps and I wanted more than anything to wipe that tear away. Instead, I reached over taking her hand in mine and we swayed back and forth in a comfortable silence.

She eventually pulls her hand away as a cold chill swept over her. Wrapping the flannel shirt tightly around her small frame she hugged herself for warmth. Without thought I stand, shrugging out of my leather jacket before offering my hand to her.

“Thank you, Noah, but I’m good.” She says looking from my offered hand to the jacket.

Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Riley, if you don’t quit being so hardheaded and take the damn jacket! I know you’re cold and I’ll be fine with just my hoodie.”

She glares at me for a moment before placing her tiny hand in mine and allowing me to pull her into a standing position and turning. I slide the heavy leather up her arms and over her shoulders before she turns back with a small thankful smile.

“See, fits like a glove.” I chuckle seeing how the jacket swallows her, her hands not even peeking through the cuffs.

A giggle sounds as she holds her arms out, looking down at herself, and doing a spin before she returns to the swing, grabbing the chains and swaying back and forth.

Going behind, I slowly begin to push her, her head falling back as she goes higher and higher, her eyes closing and smile spreading across her face. Her innocence and enjoyment in that moment dispersing any of the heaviness left over from the previous conversation.

We spent a little while longer talking about a little of this and that before we agree it’s getting late, and we should probably head back towards the ice cream shop. The conversation never dying out as we return the way we came.

Upon making it back to the empty parking lot I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket as we stand in front of my mustang.

“Is this beauty yours!?” She asks, her eyes roving over my pride and joy, hand extending like she wants to touch it.

Laughing, I nod. “Yep, I restored it myself.”  Glancing around I notice her SUV is no where in sight. “Uh Ry… where’s your vehicle?” I ask, a crease forming on my forehead.

Picking up on my worry another giggle sounds. “I don’t live that far away so I decided to walk.”

I relax immediately but look at my watch. There’s no way I’m letting her walk home alone after dark. “Can I give you a ride home?”

“What’s wrong, you don’t think I can make it home on my own?” she teases quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would, with that all that sass you keep caged in that small frame of yours. However, I was raised to always make sure a lady arrives home safely.” I shrug.

“How do I know you aren’t really a serial killer and going to kidnap me? You did invite me to a mafia ran ice cream shop after all.” She quips, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Damn, you caught me! Fortunately for you, I left my murder van back home and there’s no way I’m risking any damage or getting blood in this.” I slap my hand on the roof of my car.

She dramatically thinks it over, bringing her fingers to her chin. “Well, if you insist… but don’t get any ideas. The only ride I want tonight is in your mustang, not on you.” She eyes me crossing her arms over her chest, but she can’t keep it together and the edges of her lips curve up into a smile.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Scouts honor… or something like that.” I promise, chuckling as I cross my fingers over my chest before holding them up in the air.

Finding my response satisfactory she nods, so I proceed around to the passenger side unlocking and opening the door for her. Closing it gently behind her, I slide into the driver’s seat turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life and I release the e-brake, moving from neutral to first gear as she gives me her address and we pull out of the lot.

It doesn’t take long until we’re pulling into her drive. She goes to open her door and I tut, stopping her. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I rush out and around opening the door like the gentleman I am and extend my hand to help her out as she grabs her backpack from the floorboard.

We come to a stop at the path leading to her front door as she turns to me. “Thanks for the ride. And tonight, it was fun.” She says looking up with those eyes, those beautiful icy blue eyes.

 “I enjoyed it too.” I reply, unable to look away.

We stand there awkwardly for a moment before I pull her into a goodbye hug. Although things went well, I get the feeling a kiss isn’t in the cards tonight and I don’t want to ruin my chance with her.

“So much for keeping your hands to yourself.” She calls me out followed by one of her adorable giggles.

“What can I say, you have such a huggable personality. I couldn’t resist.” I say releasing her and taking a step back. “Goodnight, Ry.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

With that she walks away. I lean against my car, my legs crossed in front of me, watching to make sure she gets in safely. She looks back one final time as the key slides in the lock. I pull a hand from my hoodie pocket and give her a salute as she waves with a smile before slipping inside, still wearing my leather jacket.

I hadn’t forgotten but it seems she had. That just gives me an excuse to see her again, right? I climb back into my mustang, revving the engine before pulling out, cranking the radio, and heading home all the while that goofy smile plastered on my face.

Riley’s POV:

I close and lock the door behind me, setting my backpack on the table and sliding down the door to the floor as Hades comes to greet me.

“Hades!” I greet hugging him. “I had such a good time.”

He licks my nose and nudges me as if telling me to continue.

“We went to the park after getting ice cream.” His ears perked up at the word park and I smile. “We talked for hours, getting to know each other. There were never even any weird uncomfortable moments either.”

I hear Noah’s engine rev and the sound of his car growing distant.

“He was such a gentleman too. Well, most of the time.” I laugh leaning my head back against the door. I really needed this. I couldn’t stop smiling and I can’t remember the last time I’d felt so content.

Hades takes that as his opportunity to sniff me, I look down at him questioningly. That’s when I see him sniffing the black leather. I gasp, having completely forgotten Noah had let me wear his jacket! I must admit it did keep me warm though. Sighing, I pull it tighter around me before bringing my knees to my chest and resting my head on my crossed arms. My nose filled with the scent of leather and him.

This one was a bit longer. Lots more playful/flirty bantering. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it. 🖤

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@lma1986, @badomensls, @dominuslunae

Want to be added? Let me know.

[trick-r-treat421]

[trick-r-treat421]

People used to comment on web comics.

People used to comment on fanfiction.

People used to comment on fanart.

People used to comment on OCs.

I hate "content" culture.

I hate "consuming content" and scrolling immediately to the next thing.

People used to be excited about the art that other people created.

People used to want to share that excitement with creators.

I hate this future.

[trick-r-treat421]

My bestie is such a fantastic writer! If you haven't already check out her work, you won't regret it. 🖤

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @halloweenaesthetic @timid-raccoon

"Come on, put on some fresh clothes." Noah stands from my bed, holding his hands out for me to take and leaving my question floating in the air. I do nothing but blink at him, confused and honestly a little hurt that he left me hanging. He takes my hands in his and pulls me to my feet, and I stagger a bit from the weight on my ankle, not preparing to stand so abruptly. "Noah, what are you doing?" "Just trust me. Put on something you like, and I'll be downstairs when you're ready," he tells me, and he's shutting my door behind him before I have a chance to say anything else.

I'm stunned. One minute I'm crying, the next he's kissing me, and now he just bolted out of my room. I didn't know what to think of it.

I sighed and turned to my closet, flipping through my attire before settling on a light pink cardigan and skinny jeans. I changed and situated my boot, cleaned up the mascara I had running down my face, and met him downstairs like he said.

He flashes me a soft smile, holding up the keys to my car. I quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to stifle my bashful grin. I glance around the room; my parents are in the kitchen with Leora, and Nick's leaning against the back of the couch with his arms folded over his chest, a smug look on his face.

"What is going on here?" I eye my brother with suspicion, and he all but shrugs. "I told you, just trust me. C'mon, we're going out," Noah clarifies, waving me on. I roll my eyes and make my way over to him. "Did I say you can drive my car?" "No, but Nick did," he laughs, opening the front door. I huff, following him outside. "Of course he did."

The car ride to wherever he was taking me wasn't very long, but the air was heavy with things unanswered. All I could think about was the way his hands framed my face and the way his lips felt against mine when he kissed me. I swear I could feel them tingling, the residual spark still lingering on them.

He parks along the side of the street, and I scan the familiar strip of restaurants and shops. My brows furrow when I realize where he's brought me. I turn my head towards him, one eyebrow perked. "Welly's?" His mouth curls into a sheepish grin, and he nods shallowly. "You remember coming here, right?" "Yeah," I confirm, and I feel my cheeks warm at the past memories. Of course I remembered where our very first date was all those years ago. Of course I remembered each and every other time we came here.

We gaze at each other for a beat, and I swear I could see a blush crawl across his face, too. With a clearing of his throat, he exits my car and rounds the front of it, presumably to open my door, but I beat him to it. He makes a face and I snort, thanking him anyways.

We're seated shortly after we enter the restaurant, and flip through the menu, deciding quickly; I hadn't realized how hungry I was until my eyes roamed over the pictures of burgers and pasta dishes. We sat in a not-so-comfortable silence after we placed our order, waiting for one of us to break the ice.

"So," I start, taking a sip of my water. "Why'd you bring me here?" He shrugs, doing the same. "I think we both deserve to get out and enjoy some food after everything that happened." "I guess you're right about that one," I chuckled. "But why Welly's?" "The food's good and it's been years since I've had it," he answers matter-of-factly. I nod slowly, accepting his excuse that I didn't exactly buy. It's been a while since I've eaten here, too, so I guess I couldn't say much. But I know that it was more than that.

It was a place he and I were comfortable in—or had been, anyway. Whenever we were here, it was like the world around us didn't exist. It was just the two of us. We'd zone everyone and everything out and cherish our time spent together, each conversation we had, each laugh we shared. I felt like maybe there was a part of him that wanted that right at this very moment, but it just wasn't the same.

Even after we got our food and ate for a few minutes, he still seemed stiff as a board, but I couldn't handle the tension anymore. I put my fork down and wiped my face with my napkin, staring at him until he noticed.

"What?" he asks, slowly putting his own fork down. "Do I have something on my face?" "No," I laughed lightly and shook my head at him. "Spit it out. Why exactly did you bring me here?" "I already told you," he starts, averting his eyes to his plate, "I like the food here and it's been a long time—" "But you know this is where we had not only our first date together, but many, many more after that. This was our place, Noah." He presses his mouth into a line and nods curtly, still not looking at me. "Why didn't you answer my question earlier?"

I could tell he was nervous, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He's fidgeting with his silverware now, and he tries to avoid the question by shoving another forkful of food in his mouth. I roll my eyes and say his name sternly, trying to bring him back to the conversation.

He finishes his bite of food with a huff, slowly bringing his attention back to me. His dark eyes lock with mine, and I can see the timidness radiating from them. "I don't know," he whispers. "I don't know what we are, Amelia. All I know is that I still care so deeply for you, and it scares me." I shake my head, puzzled. "What do you mean it scares you?" "I fucked up when I left. I never should have, I should have stayed, and because of that we'll never be anything more than people with a troubled past." There's a pang in my chest hearing him say that. "And a child," I remind him. "And a child that I don't want to leave behind."

I'm stunned for a moment hearing those words come out of his mouth. The pang that I had felt was replaced by a warmth that was beginning to blossom in my chest, and I couldn't help the smile spreading on my face. He wanted to be in Leora's life.

"Really?" I asked, barely audible. "Really." I'm filled with relief, and I have to fight back the tears brewing because of it. "So, what are you saying?" "I'm saying that...that I want it to be the three of us. You, me, and Leora. I know it won't be easy and I can't just jump in expecting you and her to accept me, but I've done a lot of thinking." His eyes bounce between mine as he speaks, and I can see the sincerity pouring from them. "It's always been you, but now it's you and her." "What do you mean it's always been me, Noah?" He gives a short chuckle. "I've never wanted to be with anyone else besides you, Amelia. I've never even been with anyone else."

Once again, I'm stunned. Was he telling me that he still loves me after all these years? If that was the case, then why the fuck didn't he ever reach out to me? He never did, not once. No phone calls, no texts, no letters. So I asked him, trying to keep my tone level so that it didn't sound accusing.

"Because when you cut ties, I respected your wishes and did what you asked of me and never spoke to you again."

That's all he said, and I knew that he was right. I had no one to blame but myself; I should have reached out. I should've told him about Leora before she was even born. And as mad as he was when I first told him while trapped in that prison, he didn't seem angry about it now. He was level-headed and genuine. Maybe a little hurt, and I regretted hiding Leora from him because of it.

"I'm sorry that I kept her from you, and that you had to find out the way that you did," I tell him wholeheartedly, a twinge of guilt hitting me. "I shouldn't have done that." "As long as you don't keep her from me now, I guess I could forgive you," he muses, a smirk gracing his lips. I huff a quick laugh. "I won't. She really adores you, you know." "Yeah?" I nod, grinning lightly at him.

But now this brings the next question: do we tell Leora that Noah is her father? And if we do, how do we go about it? I wasn't sure how she would take it, or if she would even understand it. It wasn't every day that a 5-year-old gets told 'Hey, you know this stranger you've known for a few months? Yeah, he's your dad'.

My stomach churns with nerves from the thought of it. I push my plate away slightly before bringing my hands to my lap and wringing them together instead of picking at my nails.

"What's up, Meels?" Noah asks, and I can see the concern on his face from the crease in his brows. "It's just...where do we go from here? Do we tell Leora right away or do we put it off? I don't know how to go about this, Noah, and it makes me anxious just thinking about it." His face softens, a miniscule, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "We take it day by day. You'll know when it's the right time to tell her."

-

My skin prickled from the chilly air inside the building, soft music and the quiet hum of the freezer filling the room. I had Leora propped on my hip as she peered into the glass countertop, watching her smile grow wide from the variety of flavors. "Which flavor do you want? Point to it!" I brushed a strand of her dark hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear as she leaned closer to the display case. "Pink!" she enthusiastically taps on the glass, and it fogs up from the heat of her breath. "Leo, there's three flavors of 'pink'," I laughed. "Do you want strawberry, cotton candy, or bubblegum?" She hums and pokes out her little tongue as she ponders. "Cotton candy!" "Okay, cotton candy it is. What about you, Noah?"

I turned towards Noah; his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie as he shrugs. He was never a big sweets guy, so it didn't exactly matter to him what he got.

"I'll have Leora pick for me." He flashes a toothy grin, ruffling her hair. "Pick a good one." She giggles, batting his hand away from her playfully before turning back to the glass. "That one!" She points to the right side of the case. "M&M? How did you know that I liked M&Ms?" "Everyone likes M&Ms, duh," she sasses, rolling her eyes. "Duh," he mimics, sticking his tongue out at her.

I chuckle and shake my head at them, placing Leora on the floor once she was handed her ice cream. She doesn't waste a second, digging her spoon into her early-summer snack with such force, it nearly toppled out of the cup it sat in. She takes her first bite, her face melting into that of pure delight just as Noah nudges my shoulder. I turned and thanked him when he handed me my ice cream, and we exit the little shop shortly thereafter.

Noah's hand dwarfs Leora's as he takes hold of it, guiding her across the street safely; my heart warms and I smile at the sight, following behind them. She pulls him over to a bench that was settled underneath a decent sized oak tree, the branches swaying gently in the wind and allowing in just the right amount of sunlight to keep you warm in the shade. I joined them, Leora now sandwiched between us.

Noah was right. He said I would know the right time to tell her, and right now seemed to be it as I watched them eat their ice cream, Leora's getting all over her face. He laughed when he noticed the mess, taking a napkin from his pocket to wipe her face. She whines, pushing his hand away, and I allow it to happen with a giggle—there was no use in cleaning her face, it was only going to be covered in a blob of pink within seconds.

"You win this round," he tells her with a huff. He gives up and crumples the napkin to shove it back in his pocket. "I bet you would let Mom clean you up. Isn't that right?" I snort. "Yeah, right. Kid does whatever she wants, even though she should listen to her mom and dad," I tease, tapping the tip of her nose with my spoon. "I don't have a dad," she simply states, ignoring the drop of ice cream I left on her nose, and goes back to shoveling a mouthful of her dessert in her mouth. "Well, actually Leora..."

I trail off and glance over at Noah, my heart suddenly in my throat. His eyes quickly meet mine, silently surveying whether I was going to tell her or not. When I don't say anything right away, he gives a quick nod, urging me on.

I cleared my throat, putting my dish down beside me on the bench before turning myself towards her some. "You do have a dad," I start, running a hand down the length of her hair. "I do?" She looks at me with perplexity while simultaneously taking another bite of her ice cream. I grin lightly from her innocence, now brushing a piece of her hair away from her face. "Everyone has a dad, Leo. You know how Papa is my dad?" She nods with a small 'uh-huh'. "Well, Noah is your dad."

I watched as her brows furrowed with uncertainty, and she looks back and forth between me and Noah. Slowly but surely, her face lights up and she breaks out into a huge smile. "Yes!" She shouts. "I was gonna ask if he could be my daddy!" She turns and wraps her little arms around Noah, never minding her ice cream that I'm sure was now all over the backside of him. He hugs her back with his free arm, a grin painted on his face as she practically squeezes the life out of him.

"That's not quite how that works, but I'm glad you like having me around," Noah laughs, rubbing her upper arm. "I certainly like being around." Leora cranes her neck so that she's looking up at him, still holding him close to her. "Does that mean you'll stay here with us?" "Well, that's up to your mom. I'd like to," he tells her, then turns his attention towards me, his eyes glistening with hope. "I'd like that, too," I simply tell him, a subtle smile gracing my lips. "Yes!" Leora cheers again, letting go of Noah and attaching herself to me in a vice grip. "He's going to be the best daddy, ever."

I certainly hope so.

[trick-r-treat421]

Pretty sure I just came up with the ending for The Worst in Me.

Don't worry there's plenty I have planned between now and then though.

[trick-r-treat421]

Noah Sebastion x OFC

When Riley (a lonesome girl with no one to call a friend) and Noah (a tattooed mechanic who plays music in his free time) have a chance meeting in the park, there's an instant spark. Will he become the one to break down the walls she’s built around herself. Maybe she’ll be the missing piece he didn’t know he needed. Or will it all fall apart before it ever begins…

DISCLAIMER: This is purely a work of fiction! It involves real people in a fictional world. No city has or will be specified, I've left that up to the readers imagination. I want you, the reader, to have the freedom to envision the world you imagine them living in.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Cross posted on Wattpad

The dividers used are by @saradika-graphics

This is my first attempt at a fanfic and the first story I've embarked on writing in a long time. I know I'm not an exceptionally good writer, but I do hope that you'll enjoy their journey.

Thanks for reading! 🖤

[trick-r-treat421]

Chapter 3

Riley’s POV:

It had been a few days since the run in at the grocery store and my mind loved being a cruel bitch, randomly repeating Noah’s last words in my head. “It’d be more than a few inches, darlin.”  My cheeks now sported a slight pinkish hue as I played it over in my mind while I sat in my oversized chair, legs folded underneath me, a book in my hand that I was failing miserably at concentrating on.

The sad truth is it had been way to long and I needed to get laid… or maybe a new toy would suffice. Maybe then my mind wouldn’t be wandering back to his words, his handsome face, or his amazing, tattooed body every chance it got.

Frustrated, I set my book aside and dug the palms of my hands into my eyes. I didn’t like that he had this kind of effect. I didn’t even know him!

 I’ve done well on my own for the last while, avoiding getting involved with anyone. I’m an independent bad bitch who handles her own! So why did I keep thinking about him? Why did I keep wondering if I’d see him again?

As if on cue my phone vibrated beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I reach over to grab it, fully expecting an email notification or something silly along those lines. My breath hitched when my lock screen showed a text message from Noah. I swear he must have a spidey or sixth sense when it came to me or something.

After staring at my screen for a good minute or two I let out a long breath, swiping across the screen and opening his text.

Hey Ry, thanks again for your recommendation the other night. They were a big hit with Folio.

A smile crept across my face as I rolled my eyes and typed back my reply.

Oh, already to the nickname phase, are we? Glad your friend liked them, even if he ruined them with potato chips. 🤮

He responds with a laughing face emoji, and I assume the conversation is over. There’s nothing more to say, right?

I continued my evening with dinner and some Hades cuddles while we lounged on my bed watching reruns on tv. Eventually I was lulled to sleep by Hades’ warmth and the background noise coming from the tv.

The next morning I’m jarred from my sleep by the alarm on my phone blaring through the room. I reach over yanking it from the charger, hitting the stop button, and dropping it in my lap. I yawn as I rub the sleep from my eyes. Groaning, I stretch my arms up towards the ceiling, feeling a little stiff from the position I fell asleep in when my phone lights up alerting me of a notification.

Thinking nothing of it and still in my sleepy state I pick it up, opening the screen to two new texts from Noah.

So… any chance you’d want to meet up this weekend?

 Maybe for coffee or ice cream?

The phone drops from my hands as I read over it a second time. Is he really asking me out? Like on a date!? I look at the time stamps, the first came through a few hours after our brief chat, the second about twenty minutes later.

My anxiety riddled overthinking brain needs clarification. Quickly I grab it up and type out a message.

Like as in a date?

What if he changes his mind now? I took forever to respond after all. Maybe he thinks I’m a bitch and ignored him. What if he lost interest? Wait… am I even interested!?

I’m clutching the phone, my mind racing a mile a minute, when I see the typing bubble pop up.

Well, yeah. Unless you’re already in a relationship or something.

Shit… FUCK! I wasn’t expecting a reply so fast. I’m still staring at the messages when Hades walks in. The traitor must have left me when I started tossing and turning in my ever-restless sleep. His ears perk up and he sets his big ole head on the edge of my bed tilting it to the side, ears perked up, watching as my hands fidget in my lap and I chew on my lip.

“What do I do?” I ask, looking over at my only companion before falling back onto my pillow and staring at the ceiling.

Hades gently nudges my hand with his wet nose, whining. When I don’t move, he jumps up onto the bed laying by my side and resting his head on my chest watching me with his best big puppy dog eyes. I don’t know how he always picks up on it, but he knows I’ve been feeling lonely lately. Looking into those big gold eyes it’s as if he’s pleading for me to give this a chance, pleading for me to just say yes.

I let out a loud sigh as I pull a pillow over my face to let out a muffled scream. At this rate I’m going to be late as hell to work but I can’t bring myself to get up when my thoughts are in such a jumble.

Noah’s POV:

 It’d been a busy few days but thoughts of Riley kept finding their way into my head. The shocked expression at the end of our little encounter at the store. Those piercing eyes against her jet black hair. Everything. After closing shop I decided to shoot Riley a text.

Hey Ry, thanks again for your recommendation the other night. They were a big hit with Folio.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I slide into my ’67 Ford Mustang Fastback.

Oh, already to the nickname phase, are we? Glad your friend liked them, even if he ruined them with potato chips. 🤮

I chuckled at her message, shaking my head and sending back a laughing emoji. I pocketed my phone once again before turning the key in the ignition and having that magnificent V8 roar to life. Peeling out of the garage, I left my friends in the dust racing to see who would arrive home first.

A few hours later and a drink or two deep I had gained some liquid courage and decided to text Riley again. 

So… any chance you’d want to meet up this weekend?

I hit send before I could convince myself otherwise. Staring at my phone, I waited for a reply. As the minutes ticked by, I became increasingly antsy. Finishing off another drink I wondered if I’d freaked her out. Maybe I should send something else.

Maybe for coffee or ice cream?

Hitting the send button again I waited. After what seemed like an eternity, I called it a night. As I lay in bed, I berated myself for how worked up I was allowing myself to get. Why did this girl have such a hold on me. Running a hand down my face I sighed before turning out my lamp and drifting to sleep.

The next morning in a half-awake state I heard the alert notifying me of a new text. Rolling over I glance at it with one eye open. It was Riley, she responded.

Like as in a date?

A goofy grin spreads across my face as I imagine her bewilderment. Then a thought creeps in, what if she’s already with someone else and my smile falters.

Well, yeah. Unless you’re already in a relationship or something.

After shooting her that last text I roll out of bed and begin preparing myself for work. I’m standing in the shared bathroom brushing my teeth when her next text comes through.

Oh, no. I’m not in a relationship. And I do like ice cream.

I type back a response with one hand as I work the toothbrush around my mouth in small circles, got to keep this million-dollar smile looking good.

I know an awesome ice cream shop if that’s a yes.

Before I could set my phone down it vibrated in my hand.

It’s a yes.

A cocky toothy smile forms as the toothbrush hangs from my mouth, some toothpaste dribbling down my chin as I stare at my reflection. I’ve still got it!

Good. 😏 How about Saturday?

Again, not a super long chapter but we're building up to the good stuff. Hope you enjoyed this and thanks for reading! 🖤

Tag List:

@lma1986, @badomensls, @dominuslunae

[trick-r-treat421]

I have some super talented writer friends and you should check my bestie out! 🖤

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon

I've been miserable ever since Noah left for the make-up shows from when they had to cancel due to his illness. Sleeping was hard without him, having been using him as a body pillow—we didn't think to grab an actual body pillow, not realizing how reliant I was of Noah for sleeping purposes.

Which is exactly why I was currently dragging one through the front door of our home all while simultaneously grabbing the mail. And grabbing my phone from my back pocket now that Noah was calling.

"Hey," I huffed into the receiver once through the door and threw the pillow onto the couch. "How are we doing?" he asks, a smile evident in his voice. "Good," I smiled lightly to myself; I loved hearing him say 'we' instead of just 'you', knowing he was not only asking about me, but the baby, too. "Tired, but good." "Still not sleeping well?" "Nope, so I bought a body pillow. Hopefully it helps." "Hopefully. But hopefully not too well that you won't snuggle me anymore," he laughs.

I put my phone on speaker and chuckled, shaking my head as I sat down on the couch with the mail in my hands, and flipped through it. There were mostly pre-approvals for credit cards amongst other junk, but one piece in particular caught my attention. It was addressed to me, the returning address of my childhood home back in Virginia, but the name made my heart skip a beat.

Warren Foster

"What the fuck?" I questioned under my breath, immediately tearing it open to read the letter and coming face-to-face with my name written in an all-too familiar script. The first few lines had tears pooling in my eyes and my hands trembling.

My dearest Heather Olivia,

If you are reading this, then I am no longer on this earth, but I am still watching over you. I had Mom keep this so she could give this to you when you needed it most.

My lips quivered and I squeezed my eyes shut, tears now rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't bear to read the rest of it right now and put it back in its envelope, tossing it on the coffee table. I brought a hand to my mouth and tried to stifle the cry I let out, but it was of no use. I couldn't hold my emotions back.

"Liv, why are you crying?" Noah asks calmly before his panic-stricken voice cuts through my hysterics. "Oh my God—are you in labor?" I shake my head 'No', though he can't see it. "Do I need to book a flight back home?" I choke out a 'No'. "Answer me, please, you're freaking me out." I suck in a choppy breath and let out one last sob before trying to answer him. "I-I got a letter from...from my dad." "What the fuck?" He sounded just as shocked as I was. "But your dad is—" "I know," I cut him off. He didn't need to say it.

Dead. My dad is dead, and I never got to see him before he went. Each time that thought crossed my mind, it was like a sucker punch to my chest. I'm back to hysterics in no time.

"Fuck, Olivia, I'm sorry. What did the letter say?" "I-I couldn't read it," I whimpered. "I read the first two lines and put it down. Said he gave it to Mom for her to give me when I needed it most." In a sense, it was comforting. Dad was thinking of future me before he passed, Mom was thinking of me during my pregnancy. She knows the doubt that I sometimes feel, and I'm assuming there was something in that letter that would be uplifting. But I couldn't read it. Not alone.

"What can I do for you?" Noah's voice is soft. "Bring my dad back, just for a minute," I mumbled, fresh tears welling in my eyes. He sighs deeply. I can picture him combing the front of his hair back with his hand. "You know I can't do that, love. I wish I could." "I know," I whisper dejectedly. "I can't wait for you to come home." "I'll be home to you two in no time, I promise." I sniffle, wiping the back of my hand under my nose. "Okay. I'm gonna try to relax some," I huffed. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asks warily. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I love you." "I love you, too. I'll call you later, alright?"

We hung up and I picked up the letter once more, bringing it and the pillow with me into our bedroom. I shoved the piece of mail into my nightstand so I didn’t have to look at it; it was tempting to read, but I know that I wouldn't be able to contain myself if I read it alone. I couldn't have it tip me over the edge and lead to...that.

I sighed and made my way to my bathroom, deciding to take a quick bath to help calm me some. I ran the water and threw some Epsom salt in, all while making sure the water didn't get too hot. I stripped of my clothes, piled my hair on top of my head, and carefully lowered myself into the tub.

It took a moment or two to get situated, trying to find a comfortable way to rest as he wriggles about in my belly. "I love you, but you gotta chill out, dude," I chuckled quietly, and I swear he retaliates with a swift kick to my side. "Asshole," I glare at my stomach, only to laugh at my foolish banter with my belly. I ran a hand over my bump, feeling him start to settle a bit, and I let out a slow breath as the warmth encased me, my eyes falling shut.

I didn't bathe for very long; one of the downfalls of being pregnant is that I couldn't for more than 15 minutes, and I loved taking long baths. As short lived as it was, it certainly helped me calm down—after dressing and getting comfortable with the body pillow, I was out like a light.

-

After a few days of using it, the pillow was easily becoming my best friend, and when I felt it begin to slip from my grasp, I grumbled and clung onto it. I nuzzled my face into the side of it, my arm and leg hooked over it tightening their hold. There was a muted chuckle as I sighed peacefully once I got comfortable again, feeling myself start to fade back into sleep.

In my sleep riddled haze, I can feel the bed dip behind me, but I paid no mind to it. Not until I felt a comforting heat on my back, a ghost of a tingle running down my spine when my hair was brushed away from my neck, a pair of warm lips left in its wake. I whined, bringing my shoulder up to hinder them from tickling me, and a deep chuckle vibrated against my back.

"Hey, love," Noah's velvety voice whispers in my ear. With my eyes still shut, I smile. "Hey. You're home early." "I am," he concurs, leaving a kiss on my cheek. "Took the earliest flight that I could after the last show." I shift, blindly bringing my arm behind me to lace my fingers through his hair, scratching lazily. "Why?" I peek my eyes open, and I can just barely make out his face from the moonlight filtering from the skylight. He grins at me. "To make sure you two are alright," he tells me simply, his large hand splaying over my belly.

I hum, giving him a kiss on his chin, and my eyes flutter shut once more.

"I take it the pillow worked well for you," he says after a moment of silence. "Mhm. I might choose it over you now." I muse, smirking. "Oh, hell no," he grumbles playfully. He slips it from between my legs and tosses it off the bed, landing in a soft thud. He shifts so he's on his back and gently rolls me towards him, my leg instinctively settling over him. "Mine," he states, tightening his arm around me. I laugh, shaking my head against his chest, laying a kiss wherever my lips landed. "Yours."

In the morning, I woke up in the same position; his arm around me, my head nestled against his chest and my leg over top of him.

I glanced up at him, admiring the peacefulness painted on his face as he continued to snooze. With his jaw slack and lips parted, quiet snores sounded from him, and I knew he was exhausted from returning home in the middle of the night. The sunlight pouring over him hadn’t bothered him one bit—usually he’d wake up the second it hit his face.

I carefully removed his arm from around me so as to not disturb him, trying my best to roll as gracefully as I could off his body. It wasn’t quite as easy as it used to be, now with a basketball for a stomach, and I more or less scooted my way out of bed praying I didn’t wake him. When he didn’t so much as stir, I made my way to the bathroom before our son decided to wake up and kick my bladder.

Once I had finished my business and exited our bathroom, I was surprised to see Noah had woken up, him lazily rubbing his eye with his fist. “Good morning,” he croaked, and I immediately apologized for waking him. “You didn’t wake me,” he tells me with the shake of his head, but I’m almost certain I did. “Did you sleep alright?” I smiled lightly, making my way back over to him. I raked the front of his hair back and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in two weeks.” He takes hold of my hand and presses his lips to the back of it. “Good,” he mumbles against me, and I can feel his lips curl into a smile.

It had been such a short amount of time, but God did I miss waking up to his sheepish, sleep-filled grin and hooded eyes, and the raspiness in his voice that came with the day’s first words.

“Would you like some breakfast?” I asked him. He groans quietly as he sits up, stretching his hands high above his head. “Sure, love, that would be great.” I grin at him before making my way to the kitchen with him following behind me. "What do you feel like having?" "Whatever you feel like having," he sidles up behind me, his arms snaking under mine with his hands settling on my belly. His thumbs run against me in gentle sweeps as he kisses the back of my head. "Hmm...how does French toast sound?" "Sounds perfect."

He unravels himself from me so I can start cooking, persistently asking if I'd like help. I denied him each time; eventually he gave up and parked his ass at the table like I kept telling him to.

With Noah off my back, it doesn’t take very long to set plates down for both of us, and I join him at the table, taking the syrup after he was done dousing his toast with it. He digs in as I put a normal amount of syrup on my breakfast, and I chuckle when he groans after the first bite.

“Good?” I smirk. “So good,” he mumbles through a mouthful. I rolled my eyes, wishing he’d stop talking with his mouth full. “I haven’t had a home cooked breakfast in far too long.” I snort, shaking my head. “It’s been two weeks, Noah.” “And? I missed your cooking…amongst other things,” he winks.

Heat rises to my cheeks at his insinuation, and I hide my smile by taking a bite of the toast. He laughed, and I knew he could see the blush crawling over my face.

“Sorry, I had to,” he snickers. “On a serious note, have you read your letter from…your dad?” He hesitates on the tail end of his question, and my heart leapt to my throat from the mention of it alone. “No, not yet,” I mumble dejectedly, my gaze dropping to the food in front of me. I circle my fork through the puddle of syrup on my plate, swirling the trail of cinnamon into it. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home. I can’t do it alone.”

“Hey,” he says quietly, his fingers grazing over my knuckles to gain my attention. I bring my eyes back to him, seeing his chocolate irises glistening with generosity. “You don’t have to do it alone, I’m here now.” “I know,” I nod shallowly, placing my fork down on my plate to lace my fingers with his.

He gave my hand a squeeze to which I returned, a faint smile grazing my lips as a sense of security washes over me. He was the courage and comfort that I needed for a moment like this, and I was more than grateful for his understanding about it.

I decided after breakfast that we could read it together. He helped me clean up, loading and starting the dishwasher as I wiped down the counter and put the ingredients back to their designated areas. When we were finished in the kitchen, he took my hand in his and asked where I wanted to read it, and he guided me back to our bedroom when I answered him.

I opened the drawer that I had shoved it in two weeks prior and took it out—it was the heaviest thing I have ever held. My eyes immediately watered as I stared at my father’s name on the returning address. Noah slips the envelope from my hand and places it on the nightstand before taking my hands and sitting on our bed.

“Come here, love,” he says in a hushed tone. “Let’s get you comfortable and I can read it to you. How’s that sound?” All I could do was nod as he sat back on the pillow he propped up, his hands pulling me gently into his embrace. I rest my head on his chest, and he reaches for the letter, bringing it to his view. “Ready?”

I take a deep breath, nodding against Noah’s chest as fresh tears fill my eyes from anticipation. He gives me a reassuring kiss on the top of my head before he flips it open, clearing his throat. He read the first two sentences that I had beforehand, and I closed my eyes, my tears spilling and staining his shirt.

“From the day you were born, I knew just how special you were. You easily became the littlest love of my life, my precious baby girl, who later became my Christmas Angel…I’m sure you remember that one time we took down the tree trying to put the topper on it.”

I couldn’t help the choked-up giggle after Noah read the last sentence, the memory was still so fresh in my mind. He pressed his lips against my head once more before he continued reading.

“You blossomed into the most beautiful, courageous, and strong-willed woman that I know you still are to this day, and I enjoyed watching you grow as the years passed. I cherished them.

I remember all the tough days you had when you were in school, how badly you wanted to give up when studying became too overwhelming, or when you didn’t get the grades you wanted on your tests. But with tears in your eyes, you pushed yourself through it, and you passed with flying colors by the end of it all.

The same thing goes for when you got the job for the city. I knew how scared you were, I knew you were afraid of letting me down or not meeting my expectations or whatever it was dragging you down, but you never let that stop you. But I am so, so proud of you for never giving up, and I admire you for your strengths.

If I was half as strong as you are, I wouldn’t be lying on my death bed writing this letter to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to be able to watch you continue to grow, I’m sorry I succumbed to this disease and left you.

If there is one thing that I want you to remember, it’s that you truly are unstoppable; there isn’t a thing in this world that you cannot accomplish—I said that with my chest, and I took that to my grave.

If there is ever a day that you are doubting yourself, I want you to read this over and over until you find who you are again: the strongest, most beautiful, and courageous woman to walk this earth. The woman I am so proud to call my daughter.

I love you so much.

Until we meet again.

-Dad”

I was a blubbering mess by the time Noah finished reading the letter to me. He puts it back on the nightstand before wrapping his arms around me, rocking me back and forth ever-so-slightly while I cried it out.

In all reality, it wasn’t that bad of a letter, but it made me miss my dad that much more. It made me regret following in his footsteps, which ultimately lead me down a path to where I never got to see him before he passed. I was weak then. Oh, so very weak—and at times, I believe that I’m still weak, unlike what his letter had been telling me.

It took me a long time to recover, and I ruined it after three whole years of being sober. That is weak; I wasn’t the strong-willed person my dad thought I was. And even if I’m strong enough to be sober now due to the pregnancy, there’s always that thought in the back of my head that worries I’ll relapse after having him. But I can’t let that happen.

I won’t let that happen.

[trick-r-treat421]

Chapter 2

Riley’s POV:

It has been just over a week and some change since the day at the park. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t at least thought about shirtless Noah and his equally handsome friends a time or two. Let’s be honest though, in a city this size, the chances of running into any of them again are pretty slim. Plus, my life is a mess, so why get my hopes up. Besides, who would even want damaged goods like me…

I’m 23 and don’t know what I want to do with my life. All I know is that my nightmare of a job isn’t it and all the stress has been weighing heavy on me lately. I’ve been toying with the idea of leaving this city and starting over somewhere new with Hades. With Tate gone I don’t really know anyone; I have zero friends. There’s nothing holding me here.  But I have my house and it’s a lot of work starting over. If I don’t leave, maybe I could try to return to school, finish out the medical sonography program and get the hell out of my current job. Would it even change anything though? My anxiety and the what ifs keep me from pulling the trigger on any of it, but something’s got to give.

It had been another excruciatingly long day at work and all of this was swirling through my mind as I pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I grabbed my oversized Demon Slayer hoodie (yes, I’m a nerd) and pulled it over my work polo before grabbing my mini backpack out of the passenger seat. Thank God my job didn’t mind that I usually wore majorly flared black jeans and my beloved black converse or else I’d have to keep a change of clothes in the car if I ever needed to go anywhere once I got off.

Once inside I grab a cart, pull up my shopping list app, and start marking things off as I wander around. I’ve gotten about three quarters down my list when I turn onto the empty canned food aisle making my way to the baked beans, looking for my favorites.

My eyes scan the shelves; I’ve almost given up hope, but as I get to the very top shelf, I see a few cans sitting back from the edge. Just my luck, of course they’d be on the very top, out of my reach, I think to myself as I let out a sigh. Being 5’3” doesn’t always work in my favor, especially in instances like this.

Once the cart is out of the way I push my sleeves up and step onto the metal shelfing, hoisting myself up and trying my damnedest to reach at least one of the cans.

As I’m wiggling my fingers trying to maneuver the can into my grip, my skin begins to prickle as I feel someone’s eyes on me. “Looks like you could use a few inches,” comes a masculine voice from behind me.

 I roll my eyes, thinking great, all I need is someone pestering me tonight. I knew I should have grabbed my air pods off the charger this morning. “Are you sure you’ve got a few to spare?” I retort, sarcasm dripping from my words while I continue my struggle to grab a can.

Only once I hear that low chuckle and, “Good one, Riley. I don’t know how my poor fragile ego will ever recover,” do I freeze in place. I registered the voice, and the apples of my cheeks grew hot as I hear my name slip from his lips. Shit…

I slowly turn my head to see Noah a couple yards away bent down, arms crossed, leaning against the handle of his cart, watching me with a smirk on his face. Slowly I step down, his eyes never leaving me. “Thanks, but I have to ask, are you stalking me now?” I ask playfully as I cross my arms over my chest, trying to recover from the embarrassment and feeling a little spunky.

Noah’s POV:

The subtle blush appearing on her cheeks only makes the smirk spread further across my face. She looks a little different tonight, but her small frame and raven hair, still pulled back in a low ponytail, gave her away. I find it hard to believe but I’m not sure she knows just how beautiful she is, even in an oversized hoodie that falls almost to her knees. She’s got some fight in her apparently though.

Another small chuckle escapes before I reply, “What would you do if I said yes?” Her blush deepened, but she holds my gaze defiantly. After a few seconds I follow up with, “No, I was here picking up some things to take back to the house.  The guys and I are having a game night. Can’t have a good game night without snacks.” My head nods to my cart where a case of both Modelo and White Claw are practically covered with an assortment of chips, salsa, and dips. “It is a pleasant surprise running into you again, though.” I add.

She tilts her head as her eyebrow arches and a smile forms. “As long as you keep it figurative and not literal this time.” She pokes, but her hand instinctively goes up to cover her left ribs.

The smile on my face goes slack as I remember how I’d accidentally hurt her when we met before; I wouldn’t be surprised if she still has remnants of a bruise. I clear my throat and look up at the cans. “So would you like for me to help you with that?” I offer, standing from my cart and stepping closer, realizing now just how much I tower over her.

Her eyes follow mine to the cans as she purses those full lips for a moment, thinking it over. “What the hell, I sure wasn’t having any luck,” she finally says, shrugging and stepping aside. I move to her side and begin reaching up before I hear her add, “Do you mind grabbing two?” 

I shake my head grabbing two in a single hand, got to love the perks of having these big hands. In the process my black and white striped shirt comes up just a sliver revealing a portion of my tattooed stomach. I catch her biting her lip slightly and adverting her eyes to the floor, but I don’t mention it and just smile a bit as I extend the cans to her. She takes them, one in each hand, and places them in her cart.

I grab the last can from the shelf looking it over as I ask, “So are these any good? I need to get some for Folio. He likes scooping them onto his chips.” My face gave away the slight disgust I felt for that, her nose crinkling up as well.

Nodding, she says, “They’ve been my favorites for as long as I can remember.”

That’s all the confirmation I need as I go place it in my cart. With that, she thanks me and turns towards her cart to continue on. Knowing this interaction is coming to an end, Folio’s words from the park drift through my head. Tell us you at least got her number…

She’s about halfway down the aisle when I call out “Riley!”

She stops, turning back to me with a questioning ‘hmm’. I leave my cart where it is and jog down the aisle to her, I can feel the nervous energy buzzing in my chest but I’ve got to shoot my shot. “Hey, can I get your number?” I ask simply.

Her icy blue eyes grew wide as her features turn to a stunned expression, the blush that was all but gone creeping back onto her cheeks. My hand rests at the top of the pocket where my phone rests waiting for her response.  

After a moment, the hesitation clear on her face, her hand starts to reach towards me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Uhh yeah, I guess. Give me your phone and I’ll add my number in,” she says while trying to gain back her composure.

I retrieve the phone from my pocket, unlocking it, and pulling up my contacts before handing it to her. The nervous energy I felt was now being replaced with a building confidence, a broad smile spreading across my face.

She types away for a minute before handing it back as I hear a small chime from inside her hoodie pocket. Looking down I see an open text message screen where she’s saved herself under ‘Riley from the park’ and sent herself a single text that reads ‘Noah.’ A butterfly-like feeling settles in my stomach as I realize I didn’t have to give her my name, she remembered it from the park. I close out the message and lock my phone before sliding it back into my pocket and stepping away.

“Thanks, I’ll send you something soon,” I say taking a few steps backwards. “By the way, it’d be more than a few inches, darlin.” I say in a low, husky voice before winking, turning to retrieve my cart, and disappearing out of sight, leaving her standing there stunned with her mouth agape.

I know this was a short chapter but I wanted to get another one out for you. I enjoyed seeing a little more of their banter in this one.

Once again thank you @crimson-calligraphyx for helping me edit and talk out ideas.

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