R4ndomPeeP

Riddle was used to social butterflies like yourself. let’s not forget that Cater is in the same dorm as him. but for some reason, something about you was just so different from anyone else he had ever been around.

you were a sweet girl. no one dared to breathe an ill word about you, because it wasn’t something that could be justified as truth. sure, you were outgoing and very open about what you thought or felt, but you were someone that went out of their way to help others.

if someone was a couple bucks short of the needed money for something? you’re pulling out twice what they need. someone was struggling in a subject? you were there with notes and annotated notebooks. or if someone just simple needed a shoulder to cry on—you were there.

Riddle, despite finding cater a tad obnoxious, never thought anything of the sort when it came to you. he let his guard down, and also wasn’t so strict about the queens rules. it’s more so like he forgot about them entirely when he was with you. he let go all of his worries and let down his walls, allowing you to see the insecure boy underneath all the pressure and expectations. and you never judged him.

you just let him be who he is.

and sevens, did he love you for that.

one day, his mother had called him. she was just asking basic questions, catching up with Riddle. she asked about any new friends or anything of the sort—so he started gushing about you.

his mom didn’t say anything too terrible, until Riddle mentioned he was working up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. she snapped at him, saying that it was unacceptable.

but why..? well, turns out she had arranged a marriage with some girl from his hometown. though it wouldn’t take place until after graduation, he was forbidden from dating anyone else because technically, he was engaged.

riddle was furious at this information. he had never hung up on his mother before, but as she scolded and lectured him about this bullshit, he hung up. he puts his phone down, and just begins sobbing.

you had been looking for him, and when you find him in his room, crying his eyes out, you felt like crying yourself.

“riddle!? what’s wrong!” you panicked, rushing over to him and tilting his face towards you.

he collapses against you, melting into your warmth as you wrap your arms around him, lightly rubbing soothing circles on his back. “it’s my mother. she arranged- arranged a marriage f-for me after i graduate.” he sobbed, curling his hands into your shirt. your heart ached for him.

“how in the heck did she bring that up so casually?” you ask, trying to gain more context.

“i told her about you and how i wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. she got mad and went off the rails.” he explained in a wobbly voice, not even realizing he had just confessed to you. your eyes widen in surprise at the revelation, your heart soaring with joy at his unknowing confession. you push that to the side, ready to address his mother.

“call her back or text her, and tell her you don’t care about whatever shit she’s trying to pull. tell her this is your life, not hers, so she should stop trying to live vicariously through you.” you say in a firm tone, one he’s never heard from you. “forget about what she says. break all the rules she sets, do what you wanna do with your life.”

it didn’t take much more than that to convince riddle to follow your advice. and, to show that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. he tangled a hand in your hair, holding you closer to him. and when he felt you kissing him back?

he thought this is what heaven must feel like.

“if you mean what you say, and want me to take that advice, then be my girlfriend.” he murmurs against your lips, and smiles when you nod vigorously.

he’d worry about his mother later. hell, just to spite her, he’d propose to you here and now and marry you in a month if he could.

as long as he gets to have you, he doesn’t care what he has to deal with when it comes to his mother.

Azul Ashengrotto

Everything to Azul is business. it’s his thing, and to each their own.

so, when you offered to be a waitress at the lounge, Azul was elated. sure, jade and floyd did… fine, but having a cute and bubbly girl like yourself? oh, business would be booming.

you worked hard, and got along great with customers. you grew close to the octavinelle boys since you were almost always at the lounge, but above all else, you became a true friend to azul.

and, against his better judgement, he became infatuated with you. he loved how you saw him for who he is now, not who he used to be. he admired how open you also were, sharing your own worries and insecurities—things he wouldn’t have thought someone as perfect as you would have.

Azul was hesitant to make a move. and soon, it became too late. when he had been spending less time at the lounge, you ask Floyd what has been going on.

“what, you didn’t know? he’s figuring out marrying some chick. he said he wouldn’t like to, but it’s business related to the lounge and expanding, so he’s giving in.”

your heart dropped at floyd’s explanation. you were in love with azul, and really hoped you’d fine the courage some day to tell him. now you find out that he’s marrying someone else?

tears well up in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to try and get them away.

“uhhh, shrimpy? you okay?” floyd asks, scratching his head.

“i’m okay, just need some time.” you say, then walk off. right after you leave the lounge, a sighing and exhausted looking azul shuffles in.

“ah, boss man! you just missed shrimpy, she left a minute ago.” floyd says, then jade comes over.

“floyd, she left with tears going down her face.” he points out, to which azuls eyes go wide. floyd explains that he told you about the marriage, and that you were upset. azuls heart ached.

the next day, you enter azuls office without warning. “azul..? uhm, congratulations on the upcoming marriage.” you say in a defeated tone, one much different from your normal emotion. he looks up, a frown on his face.

“but i’d like to tell you something. well, i’ve liked you for a good bit now… and i don’t think ill be able to continue working here. it sounds stupid, but my emotions are all over the place. i’m sorry.” you explained while looking at the ground, tears dropping onto the floor.

azul stands from his desk and walks over to you, tipping your chin up with a finger. “don’t say that, please. because i really don’t wanna do this.” he says, his eyes locked on yours. before you can reply, he kisses you. his lips are soft, and you can taste a little bit of salt and something unique to him.

when he breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. “i’m not going ahead with the marriage. i’ve decided that business can come second in this situation.” he says quietly.

“what do you mean..?” you ask tentatively.

“i mean that i want to be with you, if you’ll have me.” he states, conviction in his tone. a smile forms on your lips, bright and genuine.

“i’d be more than happy to.” you reply, burying your face in his chest. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him.

he’d figure out the business with the marriage and the “wife” later. what he did know for sure is that it was most definitely being canceled—he found his future wife, and had her in his arms.

Idia Shroud

when you and Idia started hanging out, everyone was shocked. you, the most open and talkative person that anyone has met, hanging out with Idia, the least open and least talkative person. hell, he was shocked that he could even tolerate you, much less be around you for hours on end.

however, despite your constant rambling about whatever, you were much quieter around Idia. you knew he liked things to be quiet, with the only sounds coming from his games or whatever he was watching.

you knew he appreciated his peace and space, so you’d sit on his floor reading a book or playing something on your phone, while he played games on his computer.

you could adjust your personality when around different people, and that was something Idia liked. you could still be the bubbly friend to everyone else, and for him, you’d be a seamless addition that silently crept in.

idia falling for you wasn’t loud or dramatic. it wasn’t anything like he’d see in his animes—no “omg i’m so in love!” and a big confession. it happened gradually. he realized that he didn’t mind if you talked to him about your guys interest, or asking to play with him.

rather, he yearned for it. he yearned for the affection that you gave, no matter how minimal it might seem. he wanted to sit in his bed and snack while watching shows and cuddling you. he wanted you snug in his lap while he sat at his desk, playing whatever game was new. and most of all, he wanted you to be the same bubbly bundle of joy that you were to everyone else—he didn’t want you to feel like you had to put on a mask for him.

one day, he started ignoring you though. and you had no idea why—did you say or do something he didn’t like? was he getting bored of you?

none of the above was true. in reality, he was being arranged into a marriage with a girl he didn’t know. and it broke him, because he wanted you. he didn’t know how to tell you though—and his hesitation has led to his inability to have you.

a week of his odd behavior went by. he had been walking right past you, he stopped answering your messages—hell, he wasn’t even taking the time to read them. he unadded you on the games you’d play together. he did everything he could to lock you out of his life, but he kept a key under the mat. the key was the fact that if you yelled at him, he’d have to respond.

finally, after two weeks, you were fed up. you found him sitting by himself in the courtyard, and you yelled his name while stomping over to her.

“idia shroud! wanna tell me what the hell was been your problem with me?” you request, but it feels more like a demand.

idia goes bright red, yelping when you approach. “it’s not important. just go away.” he replies in a monotonous voice, looking anywhere that wasn’t you. you crouch down infront of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you.

“it’s clearly important if you’re okay with cutting me out of your life.” you fire back, pushing him to talk. he sighs, pulling your hand off his face and having you sit with him.

“im being forced into an arranged marriage. i dont know how to get out of it.” he explains bluntly, a deep frown on his face.

“so… just date someone. can’t get married if you have a lover.” you suggest, your tone being slightly sarcastic. it was kinda obvious to just be in a relationship with someone else, no..?

“w-well, that’s hard right now.” he replies, his voice shaky with nerves.

“why?”

“because i don’t know if you want me the way i want you.” he says, giving in to your nagging. your eyes go wide at his revelation, and you shift closer to tuck yourself into his side.

“i most definitely do.” you say softly, getting comfortable while being curled up next to him. “you can figure out that marriage stuff later. for now, hold me and enjoy this moment.”

and so he does. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the space between his legs. your head lays on his chest, and his arms are tightly wrapped around you, holding you close.

Sitting down on the creaking stool, he flicks the brim of his hat, emerald eyes wordlessly stares at the bartender who slides a glass of whiskey over to his waiting hand.

The amber liquid warms his insides, numbing the pain from his recent injuries. He swirls the alcohol in the glass like a swirling whirlpool of ambrosia, threatening to drown him in its warmth.

A soft guitar strums on his right, his aching neck turns to the sound, his eyes find you sitting on a similar stool, a worn guitar sitting on your lap, a smile on your lips. A sight for sore eyes in the dim smoky tavern.

You press your lips close to the mic, hands shaking, eyes fluttering shut as you start singing.

The noisy bar suddenly silences, numerous eyes watch you on the little stage covered in sticky alcohol. Ears perk up at your rhythmic strumming. There's goosebumps rising under Hobie's leather clad arms.

Your voice drops on him like a bucket of ice water, waking him up from his stupor. He can't seem to remove his eyes from you, for the first time in a while, Hobie smiles genuinely.

The alcohol lay forgotten in his hand as you sing your third song of the night. Apparently the patrons don't like him staying for two songs more.

Two men sidle up next to him, one blocks you from his view, the other right behind him, so close that he can feel the man's foul breath on his nape.

“You're far from home, stranger” one drawls, whiskey breath fanning Hobie's face.

“This town ain't big enough for ya.” The other man says, fingers reaching for Hobie's collar.

Before they get their hands on Hobie, he grips his glass, flinging it towards the man behind him, nailing him right on his temple.

A fight ensues, you jump away from your seat, eyes wide, using your guitar to shield yourself from flying bottles. Backing away, you dodge a glass.

Hobie fights his way towards you, kicking a man right on his groin, earning a high pitched scream from the man. Another patron, too drunk to see straight, hobbles over to you with a sick grin. Hobie sees this, already sprinting and dodging flying stools to get to you.

He unclips his lasso to hogtie the man down, but you beat him to it by smashing the man's head with your guitar. The broken wood splinters, the sound pinging in his ears.

The drunkard fall on his back like a hay bale, the broken guitar around his neck, head poking out of it.

Hobie looks at you dumbfounded, a growing smile on his lips. He stands there with his hands holding on to the lasso while chaos surrounds him. The second you look at him with your pretty eyes, everything seems to stop just for you.

You smile back at him, all saccharine, eyes crinkling in the corners. Your reach for him, flexing your fingers. Without a word, he takes your hand. And you run away with him, through the backdoor, away from the mayhem, and onto the dry plains.

He knows he's met his match. And you can't wait to get to know the mysterious cowboy who gladly took your hand without question.