K Now I Need Bartender Noah

wanna come over & cry in the shower with me

daily fave folio 💕

I'm on my period so I keep thinking about how would Nerd!Noah take care of you when you're on your period. I mean he bought the whole pharmacy when you were sick so I can imagine a similar situation here as well.

And I feel like he'd be so anxious and scared not to annoy you or make you angry or overwhelmed. And probably would apologize like ten thousand times and ask for permission before doing ANYTHING (not that he doesn'tnormallydo it, but especially now) because he's the cutest person alive. 🥹

i'm so sorry for answering this so late🥺🤍

nerd Noah masterlist

Oh, our sweet boy trying to help as much as he can (I missed him so much)

Imagine a similar scenario, you call your manager in the morning, telling her that you’re taking a sick day.

But you learned from the last time and you know that Noah will show up with a cup of coffee by your desk any minute, so you text him a message “Hi Noah, I’m not feeling well today so I used my sick day. See you on Monday🤍"

Thankfully it’s Friday, so you know you can do nothing for the next three days. You told Noah that you’re not feeling well just because you know boys can have different reactions to talking about period. Not that you’d think Noah would be grossed out or something, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable in this early stage of dating.

Noah got the message just when he was making his way to the kitchen area, so just in time to not make a cup of coffee for you like the last time.

He was worried, you’re usually okay with going to work with a headache or cold.

“Do you need anything? I can stop by after work if you need anything.” he texts you back.

You don’t really need anything, but you really want something. Something sweet, or salty? Both? Cuddles and his hoodie?

Damn hormones, they’re yelling at you to tell him to come over after work.

“Maybe a little snack? I’m always up for a visit if you have the time.”

I’m always up for a visit? Who says that? Too late, you already sent the message.

Currently you were laying in your bed, your hair a mess and your tummy in pain.

Noah read your message and got confused, he thought you were feeling sick like the last time and he had a hard time making you eat the soup he made. And now you want a little snack?

“Oh I thought you were sick, I wanted to make you soup again. But of course, I’ll be at yours around 5:30 with a little snack.”

Damn hormones again, making you tear up at his message. Sweet sweet boy.

You felt a cramp and threw your phone somewhere in the sheets. You dragged yourself up from the unmade bed and went into your bathroom to start a warm bath to help yourself.

After you felt relieved enough and the water started getting cold you got out and decided to text Noah again.

“Make it a big snack maybe?”

“How sick are you exactly?”

“Period sick, so I need a period snack.” you decided to throw a joke in.

“What the hell is a period snack?” you laughed at his reply, glad that he didn’t seem to mind the period talk.

“Little bit of everything you can find.”

“Now I’m scared I’m gonna mess it up and make you angry. Or sad. Idk I haven’t met your period self yet.” he was trying to joke on purpose. Your period had to be bad to make you stay at home, so he hoped he could lift your mood with his texts for now.

Before you could reply, another text came through, “I’m gonna leave soon, is there anything else you need bug?”

“No, just a little snack and you. Thank you.”

“Hey baby.” Noah said and his face softened when he saw you behind the door. Your hair was a mess because you didn’t leave your bed the whole day, you were wearing mismatched clothes and you were frowning. During the wait for Noah the cramps got worse and you started to feel a little sick.

“Hi.” you replied and let him in. He immediately set the grocery bags on the floor and opened his arms for you. Finally inhaling his scent and feeling the warmth of his body, you relaxed a little.

“How are you?” he rocked you from side to side, his hands going up and down your back.

“Like someone's trying to tear out my ovaries.” you groaned into his chest.

“Oh bug, let me take care of you yeah?” he lifted your face and placed his lips on yours. You hummed against him with satisfaction, finally something that brought you comfort and not pain.

“Let’s go.” he pulled away and took your hand in one of his hands and the grocery bags in the other one.

When you reached your kitchen he started taking things out one by one and explaining the reason why bought it to you.

“I got ice cream and chocolate for a sweet snack, cream and vinegar chips for a salty snack and then some sour candy. I didn’t know what to get for dinner, but I figured we could order something?” he placed the items on your kitchen counter and looked at you for an answer.

“Sure, that sounds good to me.”

“Okay. Then I went to the pharmacy. I got painkillers in case you didn’t have any and then I asked the worker if she has any tips for what could make you feel better and she gave me these things.” his brows were furrowed as he was digging around in the paper bag.

“Here! This is some herbal tea that’s supposed to ease the pain and these are heat pads that you can put on your tummy or lower back to help with the pain. I read about those on the internet, but I wasn’t sure what to believe is true or not, so I didn’t ask for that straight away.”

“On the internet?”

“Yeah, did you think you told me you’re on your period and I’d come with one chocolate bar?” he looked offended that you would think that.

“I mean, I didn’t expect you to do research? But I should have known, you’re you.”

“I’m me?”

“Yep, you either know everything or do research to know everything.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” you pat his back and gently push him away from the bag with snacks, digging around to find which one you’re going to start with.

“What’s this?” you see a small bouquet of tulips on the side of the bag and take them out.

“Shit I forgot, they’re for you.” Noah says with the sweetest smile ever.

“Oh.” you look at him, then at the tulips, then back at him and feel your eyes filling up with tears.

When Noah notices them, they’re already running down your cheeks.

“Oh bug, what’s wrong?” he’s scared he did or said something wrong, maybe you said you hate tulips and he forgot.

You pulled the tulips close to your chest and let out a small sob.

“I’m just, this is just, you’re-” you couldn’t finish the sentence because suddenly you needed to cry.

Noah’s arms wrapped around your body once again, holding you in place, giving you time to catch your breath.

“I’m sorry, I get emotional over everything when I’m on period.” you whisper when you stop crying. “Thank you, for the stuff and for coming over.”

“Of course. Do you want me to stay for the night?”

“Mhm.” you nodded your head yes against his chest.

Later after dinner you were back in your bed, sitting against the headboard and arguing with Noah about who’s going to choose who in the new episode of Love island. Both of you with a snack of your choice in hand.

Using your “Your shirt would help with the cramps.” line and puppy eyes got you being comfy in Noah’s shirt and pyjama shorts and Noah shirtless and his sweatpants he decided to leave at your place the last time he was there.

Just a minutes after Noah noticed how you changed your position every few seconds. From sitting against the headboard to laying on his chest to laying on your back.

“Is the pain worse again?” he softly asked, feeling helpless with no way to help you out of it.

“Yes. I don’t wanna take another pill, I guess I should just sleep through it.” you said and got under the blanket. Noah closed your laptop and got ready to sleep too.

“Oh wait, you can continue to watch, I don’t mind.”

“Baby I watch this just because of you.” Noah sounded surprised that you’d think he enjoys watching Love island.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” you smirked at him.

“I love it only when I watch it with you.” he booped your nose and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

You laid on your side, your back facing Noah and he slid behind you, pulling you closer to his chest. You always fall asleep like that.

“Oh my god this feels so good.” you almost moaned when you felt Noah’s warm chest on your back and when his hands wrapped around your waist. “Could you maybe just-” you didn’t finish the sentence and just put his hands lower on your tummy where the pain was the most intense. “Mhm, there.” you nodded to yourself and heard Noah chuckle behind you.

“That feel good? Am I not hurting you or something?”

“No, you’re warm and that helps.”

“Okay, glad I can help.”

“You already did Noah, thank you.” you squeezed his hands with your own and then placed them on top of his.

“Good night bug.”

“Good night Noah.”

You felt him kiss your neck so you turned around enough to kiss his nose, even in the dark you could see his face scrunch like it always does when you kiss his nose, making him ticklish and giggle before he nuzzles his face into your hair.

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

taglist: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @super-btstrash-posts @amelia-acero @justcarrie @koskeepsake @dominuslunae @ami--gami @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @lilcrazy011 @pipidoll @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans @blvckmvgicwoman @punkprincess1999 @fear-its-beauty @bloody-spades @n0n3xsisting @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @athenexe @tashka @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @concrtlimits @whatismylifexox @theanarchymuse95 @renegadebirch @theasowle @darknightstarryeyes @montgomery-929496 @kenjipepsi1

You know what sounds so fun? Having nap dates with Noah.

There's not really a purpose other than napping together. Maybe it's like, around 2 or 3pm, you're both lounging on the couch and you start to get sleepy. He notices that by how you're yawning every two minutes.

So, he takes your hands in his and pulls you off the couch.

"C'mon. Let's go to bed and take a nap."

And it's obvious that you can't deny it.

So you both move to the bed, and get comfortable under the covers.

Maybe you're resting your head on his shoulder. Maybe only your hands are intertwined. Maybe his long legs are tangled with yours.

You talk about mundane things until one of you falls asleep, and then it doesn't take long for the other to follow.

And then this becomes a routine. Noah starts to notice your preferred hours for a good nap (not right after lunch, you prefer to wait around 1 hour). So he already has the bed ready by then. The pillows are all fluffy and the blankets are already laid out.

And if, for some reason, he's not there to nap with you (he gets cranky when he has responsibilities during your nap hours), he makes sure you're rested by texting you throughout the day to ask if you've had your afternoon nap yet.

You tell him that yes, you tried to sleep, but you never felt as rested as when he was with you.

it’s finally pride month and something gay better happen to me or ill pass away

Will you wait me out?

Summary: You were one of the best of friends—maybe a little bit more—and maybe, if life hadn’t gotten in the way, things could be different now, but instead, a decade after you once knew Noah, you see his face again and find yourself chasing ghosts in the form of old memories, before finally coming face to face with the past.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really, a little bit sad a lot of pinning by reader, implied old feelings, old friends, potentially high school sweethearts, lots of ‘what ifs’.

The first time you see his face again, it’s like seeing a ghost. He looks older now—his features sharper—and though his hair is much shorter than the overgrown wolf cut you remember, even in grayscale, you recognize those doe-like brown eyes.

His face sits front and center in a group shot on the cover of a magazine—a rock magazine highlighting Bad Omens as Best International Artist. Something inside you swells and flutters. Pride, you think. You always believed he would go far with his words, envied his ability to lay them out so eloquently, weaving them into songs.

Maybe if you had, too, he wouldn’t feel like a footnote in the story of your life. The bond you shared, that special something you’d been too scared to name back then—love—could have come to fruition.

The magazine sits on your coffee table for a week—unopened, but face-up—so you can glance down at him and the rest of the guys. You didn’t stick around in Virginia long enough to meet Jolly, but you’d briefly crossed paths with Folio and managed to forge something of a friendship with Nicholas—Noah’s best friend.

It takes you another week before you finally open the magazine with the intention of reading it—at least the article. Most of it’s about the music, the new album, the trajectory of it all. Then your eyes glaze over the part of the interview that touches on the recent popularity of their song Just Pretend on TikTok. He doesn’t have to name you outright for you to know what influenced it, how the lyrics were written about you. He never had to explicitly say, because you always knew.

You never really ventured into the band’s discography. You followed subtly, heard their name crop up here and there, but it seems they’ve recently broken new ground—though it doesn’t surprise you. Nick and Noah had always been talented, and with the addition of Jolly and Folio, you can only imagine what they’ve achieved.

When you finally take the plunge, diving into their music from the start, you find yourself struggling through parts. There are too many similarities about you and him hidden in the subtext of the lyrics. You make it through, even as it tears at your heart, dredging up memories you’d long since tucked away—kept safe in a lockbox deep inside you.

Three weeks pass, and you find yourself buying three more copies of the magazine: one you saw on display in a coffee shop, one from a convenience store, and one from a Hot Topic window—though that one took a bit of bartering.

In double that time, the number increases to nearly quadruple. At this point, you’re probably the sole owner of almost every copy in the city. You’re not sure when or why the collection began, but now it follows you from place to place, and in every new location you reach, you pick up another. You read them just as often, too—your first copy as beaten and battered as you feel every time you dare to torture yourself by re-reading the same passages of the interview you know will tear your heart to shreds.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go for the two of you—him writing songs about your what ifs, and you learning everything you can through the tiniest pieces of his soul he bares in his music and interviews.

The thought of it breaks your heart all over again.

Less than a month later, you’re in a new town. As you pick out a postcard for your family back home, you find yourself choosing another—for him. You don’t know what prompts you, exactly. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been on your mind a lot more lately.

You send it to the band’s P.O. box. It’s the only form of contact you have left, after being laughed at by a stranger on the other end of the phone. You had called the number listed on the band’s record label website, hopeful that maybe—just maybe—you’d get to speak to him. The woman who answered wasn’t apologetic. In fact, she seemed amused, as though you were just another eagle-eyed fan chasing a long shot. Maybe things would’ve gone differently if she had known who you are to him… who you were.

Your message is simple—a response to his lyrics:

I’m still out here. I’ll wait you out. – x

You consider adding more, but decide against it. There’s always next time. If there is a next time.

There is—multiple, in fact. Every new place you go, you find a postcard just for him. Your messages are short, pointed. You mention the things you’ve been doing—the ones you once promised you’d do together someday. You tell him where you are, even though it doesn’t matter. By the time he gets it, you’ll already be somewhere else.

Do you remember when I told you my biggest fear was roller coasters too, and that one day we’d conquer that fear together? We weren’t together, but I went—for you. For us. I threw up afterward, and all I could think about was how you’d be fretting over me for at least an hour. I always think about things like that. Your caring heart. I miss it. I miss you. – x

I went ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. I remember you once told me you’d never been, that you couldn’t skate. I promised I’d take you. There were a couple of kids there who looked like they were in love. They held onto each other as they skated. They made me think of you. They made me think of us. – x

I never told you, but I always knew you’d go far with your music. I’m proud of you. – x

I thought I saw you today. I followed the guy for about ten blocks before I realised it wasn’t you. In fact, he looked nothing like you. I see you a lot lately—in the faces I pass. – x

I think of you a lot. I only hope you still think of me too. – x

It’s confirmed: Chicago does have the best pizza. They also have the best hospital vending machine selection. (Only one night in A&E) – x

My family still asks about you sometimes. They remember you—call you my “funny friend” because you always made them laugh. It hurts to hear them call you my friend. You were always so much more than that. I’m sorry I was too late to realise it. – x

Even now, his face continues to haunt you. His ghost follows you, lingering in the memories you’re making alone—the ones born from promises you once made together. You carry him with you still. The nine magazine copies have doubled. Magazines, CDs, even a Japan-exclusive edition you found tucked away on the back shelf of a Goodwill.

You convince yourself to go to a concert. It’s not a large venue—one of their smaller shows. You’re in town, not by coincidence, so why not? You stay out of sight, near the back of the crowd, and you’re thankful you thought ahead, because when he starts singing the opening lyrics of Just Pretend, you feel your composure slipping.

You don’t make it through the whole thing.

You slip away before he has the chance to see you, bumping into someone on your way out. For a brief moment, you freeze—panicked, apologetic—until you lift your gaze and find yourself staring into a familiar face.

You’d almost forgotten the possibility of Davis—the second person Noah has known as long as Nick. You catch the flicker of recognition in his eyes and move quickly to slip past, but then you hear him calling your name.

You don’t respond. You don’t look back. You just leave and hope to God he doesn’t realise he’s right.

You’ve been checking every date since the band’s tour schedule was released. You’ve followed nearly every city with the intention of going, of seeing them—of seeing him, but every time, you back out, lose your nerve.

You wonder if maybe it’s best to leave well enough alone. Is there any point in digging up the grave another time?

At the last tour date offering a meet-and-greet opportunity, you swallow your fear—and your pride. If you don’t do it now, you never will. You saw him once, though barely. You heard his voice, and it broke something inside you. For so long, you feared never hearing it again, and now, all you want is to hear it again, to see him again. Even if it’s just for one last time, for one real goodbye.

Your hands are sweaty as you wait. He’s thanked hundreds of people before you—each calling him their favorite, each naming their favorite songs or quoting their favorite lyrics. The rest of the band mostly go unnoticed, or are appreciated by only a few. That makes your heart ache, especially for Nicholas, who you always knew to be one of Noah’s biggest inspirations—his steady, guiding hand.

Each time you dare to glance at Noah, you catch pieces of the performer’s facade—the bright smile that feels just a little too forced to be real. You remember his real smile all too well. Even his laugh sounds animated now.

It feels like watching an animal in a zoo—a monkey trained to perform. Keep the line moving. Keep everyone happy. There’s a flicker of guilt, because maybe you’re part of the circus now, too, but your intentions aren’t ill-meant.

You’re getting closer now. You start counting down the people ahead of you.

10.

You’re rehearsing what you’ll say. Every scenario you’ve ever imagined is playing in your head like a movie reel—a script you’ve prepared.

7.

But what words could ever cover the span of a decade?

3.

You wonder if it’s too late to back out—if you could slip away unnoticed.

You pass the Nicks first, unsure if either of them really registers you, but you’re too caught up in your thoughts to notice the way Nicholas elbows Folio with a subtle nod in your direction.

Before you can process it, Noah is sitting in front of you. Your mouth goes dry. You choke on the words. An apology? A hello?

You’re prompted to speak by a young man about their age, wearing a cap and a Lord of the Rings T-shirt, keeping the line moving at a steady pace—the same line you’re now holding up.

Noah hasn’t looked up yet, as if waiting for you to say your name so he can sign, the same way he has with everyone else before you. You wonder if he knows. If he can sense it’s you standing there, and when you finally find your voice, you say the only thing you can think to say—your name.

The moment it reaches him, his head lifts in recognition. His eyes widen, as if the sight of you is deceiving, and suddenly, your pounding heart is in your throat—overwhelmed with a mixture of joy, anticipation, and the distinct urge to throw up.

The only thing Noah says in return is your name—so soft it’s barely a whisper. As if saying it aloud might wake him from a dream. As if, by naming you, he might lose you all over again.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens  @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @kenjipepsi1 @birdie-in-arcadia @blackcherrywhiskey @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @iconic-taurus @flowery-mess @jesuisunchaton @bloody-spades @bluestdai

lexi, hi!! we moved on too quickly from folio with red nails. think about him too much. what was that

hi bb! 💕 I may or may not need a reminder because 👀 I'm having little thots about the potential of this 🤭

That post about casual kink has me thinking about puppy!Folio wearing a chain necklace instead, maybe with a subtle little lock on it. Something a partner could just hook their finger around and tug ever so slightly just randomly. Just to watch his eyes slide shut, the way his brain shifts into pup space for that brief moment.

nick folio tonight @ rockville