pairing: noah sebastian x ofc
warnings: swearing, idiots in love, smut, overuse of the word popsicle
a/n: my life is imploding, but here’s the next chapter that i’m incredibly overdue on. why was i more confident writing miw smut in middle school on wattpad than a grown woman writing this here??? brains are odd. anyways. enjoy. i’m sorry it’s so late, but it’s super long and very indulgent so i hope that makes up for it. also this is not proof read, so my bad.
tags: @ami-gami @voidkissedpages @lacy1986 @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol
I am not built to live in the heat.
It is 113° in Los Angeles. This heatwave has been rolling through the valley for days now and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of my shitty apartment with the windows that stick. I’m sick of the AC that gives out every few hours. I’m sick thinking about my electricity bill next month. I’m sick from how much ice cream I’ve eaten. I’m sweating through everything I own. My hair is a frizzy nightmare.
I stare into my freezer in a daze. Too hot. Sweaty. Gross. With a groan, I lean my head in to try to cool off. Even with my head in a fucking freezer, I’m too hot. My building is old, cheap. The landlord has the cheapest oldest AC units installed in the complexes. They barely get cold and you have to turn them off every once in a while or they sputter so loud you think they’re going to explode. Sweat rolls down my back sticking my thin tank top to my damp skin. This is how I die. Half-naked in my shitty apartment with my head in a freezer. I feel like Sylvia Plath, except my entire apartment complex is the oven.
After a more than likely concerning amount of time, I remove myself from the freezer in hopes to preserve the chill and food inside. I walk to my living room, stepping out of my old shorts, leaving me in just my tank top and some old boy short panties. I collapse in front of the AC unit in my window and crank the air up. Relief floods over me for a whopping three minutes. In the fourth minute disaster strikes. The unit makes the worst noise I’ve ever heard and the cool airflow just….. peters out.
“Nononononononono,’ I ramble.
I bang my hand on the side of it. I press all the buttons and turn all the knobs.
My air conditioner died. In the middle of a heatwave.
I quickly scramble for my cellphone and call my landlord. I rush to tell him my problem when he answers. Per the usual, Tony the Landlord is zero help. Apparently everyone’s ACs have been dying (shocker) and there’s a line for maintenance to come fix it. I’m last on the list, which means it could be days before it’s fixed. Days. I cannot handle days. I don’t even have AC in my shitty car. I hang up and try my hardest to breathe and not cry from heat exhaustion. Working myself up in this state isn’t going to do me any good. I need to calm down and cool off. The idea dawns on me and I make my way to my bathroom. Kneeling down on the plush rug, I begin to fill the bathtub with cool water. A cool bath will lower my temperature. I toss my hair up and shimmy out of my clothes, sinking into the water. The cold is biting, but it feels so good against my burning skin. I take some deep breaths and splash some water on my flushed face. I need to weigh my options. Option one: stay in my apartment and boil alive and die. Option two: get a hotel room for however many days until my AC is fixed even though I cannot afford that. Option three: see if I can crash at someone’s place with a working AC and extra room. option three is my best bet, but the issue is finding someone that fits. Cece lives with her parents and little siblings still which means too many people in a house in a heatwave. Alanna lives in the world’s smallest studio, meaning no privacy and no personal space. Gracie lives with her boyfriend Paul and I do not want to intrude on that. The only other people I know and tolerate in LA all live in a house together… with someone who’s very pointedly ignoring me at the moment.
I wipe my hand off on my bath towel and reach for my phone, scrolling through my contacts. I see the name I’m searching for and I press call, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on the ledge of my bathtub.
“Is everything ok? You never call me,” the voice crackles through the line.
“Hey Jolly. Yeah, I’m fine. Mostly. I’m dying in this apartment. Is your guys’ AC still working?” I whine.
“I couldn’t tell you, Gianna. I’m out of town. I’m visiting family back home for a few days. I’m going to assume it’s working because I haven’t seen any complaints from Noah in the group chat over the AC. You know how picky he can be over it.” Jolly chuckles.
I squeeze my eyes shut. A working AC sounds like a dream. Speaking to Noah who is avoiding me like the plague however…
”Ok, thanks Jolly. Sorry to bother you on your vacation. I’ll just call Mike or Jesse and see what they have to say,” I sigh.
“Why don’t you call Noah? Did you have a lovers quarrel?”
“He’s being weird and Noah-ish. Whatever. I’ll call him. Thanks again Jolly. Enjoy not being in a heatwave,” I quip before we say our goodbyes.
I don’t call Noah right away. I stay in the bath water until it becomes uncomfortable. Only then, when I’m pruned like no one’s business, do I get out. I dry off, not even bothering with clothes knowing I’m only going to sweat through them. I wander into my kitchen grabbing an ice cream sandwich from my freezer and eating it. I’ve barely been out of the water for ten minutes and I’m already heating up again. I groan. Begrudgingly I hit the call button.
It rings and rings and I’m sent to voicemail.
I call a third time, starting to get annoyed.
The line clicks to life this time.
“Are you ok? What’s going on?” Concern is evident in his voice.
”Hello to you too, asshole. Thanks for actually picking up finally. Is your AC working?” I snark.
Noah sighs before responding. “Yes, it’s working. I take it yours isn’t?”
“Nope. Won’t be fixed for a few days. I’m going to die here. Wanna pick me up for an extra long sleepover?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for a beat too long.
“I’ll be there in 30.’’ And then the line clicks dead.
I move slowly around my apartment, packing up toiletries, other essentials, and the thinnest lightest weight clothes I can find. I’m moving so slow that by the time I finish and get dressed, Noah’s shooting me a text that he’s in the parking lot. I bounce down to the lobby and out to his SUV. He’s got the AC cranked in here and I almost moan in relief. We don’t speak much during the drive. I honestly barely look at him. If he wants to be weird after The Great Porn Fiasco that’s fine by me, I’ll just bum the AC and hang out with Mike and Jesse the whole time.
Except Mike and Jesse’s cars are gone when we pull up to his house.
”Where are the guys?” I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt and looking over at him finally.
Of course Noah is the only person on the planet that can make roasting alive during a heatwave look good. He’s got one of his black tank tops on, athletic shorts with a very high inseam giving me a glorious view of the Itachi tattoo on his thigh. His chain dangles down around his throat drawing attention to the colorful ink residing there with a thin sheen of sweat on it. Fuck him for looking good. He doesn’t answer me right away, something he’s been doing a lot lately. Instead he looks at me as if assessing a threat before speaking.
”Jolly’s in Sweden. Mike and Jesse decided to hole up at their girlfriends’ places during the heatwave. It’ll be just us.”
It slips out before I can stop it.
”That’s gonna be fucking awkward since you’re ignoring me.”
The look he gives me could cut glass.
”Don’t start with me,” he says before getting out of his car and leaving me behind.
I quickly scramble after him and inside the house, kicking my shoes off. I drop my bag on the couch- only for Noah to promptly pick it up and carry it upstairs with him. I follow behind him at a distance. He storms into his room, tosses my bag onto his bed and sits back down at his PC, puts his headset back on, and unpauses his game without so much as a word to me. Ok. Awkward. I quietly climb up into his bed and grab the remote for his TV, intending to entertain myself. I put on a movie and settle in to watch it. When I’m about halfway through my movie, I see him move out of the corner of my eye. He slides his headset off and rolls his chair back just barely to give himself room to slide his tank top off and toss it into his dirty clothes hamper before going back to his game. I let my eyes trace over what I see very slowly. It’s not a secret Noah’s put a lot of work into his physique. He’s not the same scrawny kid from Richmond anymore. He eats healthy, eats a lot, works out, and takes care of himself. He’s filled out and bulked up without being shredded and huge. He’s broad, strong, and still a little soft in the middle. My eyes flit over the ink on his skin. From the scary ass portrait of Jesus on his back, the unfinished piece on his ribs, the little peeks of his neck tattoo that I can see at this angle. He’s a living breathing work of art. My thighs press together as warmth courses through me that has nothing to do with the heatwave. I tear my eyes away from him and force myself to focus back on my movie.
By the time I finish my movie, I’m dying of thirst. Noah’s still completely locked into whatever game he’s playing. I head to his kitchen fully intending to help myself. I’ll just Instacart him some groceries before I leave to replace whatever I use. I grab one of Noah’s bougie sparkling waters for myself, and then because I’m nice, I grab one for him too. Before I leave the kitchen, I snoop on their pantry and refrigerator to see what we’re working with over the next few days. Not bad, definitely a house full of guys. I open the freezer and almost cry tears of joy. Cherry popsicles. Thank you to whoever bought these because they will be well loved. I rip the packaging open and toss it, sucking on the sweet treat as I head back to Noah’s bedroom. I set my sparkling water on his nightstand before heading to his desk to set his down. He glances up at me, mutter thanks and turns back to his game before whirling on me and staring me down.
”What is that?” He asks dryly.
I slide the popsicle out of my mouth with an audible pop. His eye twitches ever so slightly, but I notice it. I tilt it towards him invitingly.
”Cherry popsicle. Found it in your freezer. Want a lick?”
He’s quiet, his eyes darting between the treat melting in my hands and my face. I lift my hand to my mouth and suck the cherry syrup off my fingers as he stares me down.
“Better decide quick if you want some. It’s melting,” I sass before taking another lick of the frozen desert.
“Stop that.” He says firmly.
I pop the popsicle from my mouth again. “Stop what?”
”That.” He gestures towards the popsicle resting against my lips.
He’s staring me down quite hard. But not me me. He’s staring at my mouth wrapped around the popsicle. A false surge of confidence shoots through me and I close my lips around the cherry treat, just sucking ever so teasingly at the tip of it. His breathing hitches.
I smirk around the popsicle as I maintain eye contact with Noah. I take the popsicle further into my mouth, easing it back and forth, in and out. His jaw clenches. His eyes narrow. His breathing picks up.
”Gianna. Stop it,’’ he snarls lowly.
”Alright. You had your fun. Stop.” He snaps.
I pull it from my mouth slowly and smile at him. ”What’s got you all worked up? I’m just eating a popsicle. It’s hot out,” I tease.
He scoffs and I giggle under my breath. I tap the frozen treat against my pursed lips a few times before licking it again. He’s so wound up. That nagging feeling I had a few weeks ago during The Great Porn Fiasco pops back to the foreground of my mind. Why is he so affected? The man is almost 30, he’s definitely seen someone eat a popsicle before, and he’s probably seen them jokingly do it the way I am now. So is it me? The subject of his porn tastes pop back up in my head. Suddenly, I just have to know.
”Why have you been ignoring me?” I ask, pulling the popsicle from my mouth.
His eyes follow the movement. “I haven’t been. I’ve just been busy.”
”Bullshit. You’ve been ignoring me since The Great Porn Fiasco. Why?” I move the melting popsicle back to my mouth and suck on it some more.
”The Great Porn Fiasco? Jesus Christ- Gianna, stop sucking on that!” He groans, reaching out for it.
He moves his head like he’s cracking his neck to relieve the tension there. “I’m not- Fuck, Gi! Please don’t do this. It’s not that deep!” He mumbles as he tosses his head back, covering his face with his hands.
”If it’s not that deep then you wouldn’t have ignored me for weeks. So you can give me a reason. Or maybe actually look at me!” I snap back.
“I can’t do this.” He mutters into his hands.
I scoff. “Of course you can’t have an adult conversation. That means actually addressing your emotions instead of avoiding them, right Noah?”
He makes a sound low in the back of his throat and rips his hands from his face, staring me down, and he snaps.
”I can’t have a conversation about this when you’re sucking on that fucking popsicle and all I can imagine is it being my cock.”
He stands up and crowds into my space.
”Is that what you wanted to hear? Huh? You’re always so fucking mouthy. God- I can’t count how many times I’ve imagined shutting you up and giving you something better to do with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.” He growls.
I’m cut off by his hands coming up and cupping my jaw gently, a stark juxtaposition to the way he was just speaking to me. His thumbs rub over my jaw softly as he stares into my eyes.
”Do you want the truth? Because once I say it there’s no going back, Gianna. So I need to know that you’re positive you want to know,” he murmurs.
I nod barely, my chest tight from anticipation. He screws his eyes shut and lets out a breath before leaning down and resting his forehead to mine.
”I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. Longer than I’m ready to admit. And not just- fuck. Not just like that, not just physically. You. All of you. I’m not- I’m not good at talking about how I feel and you know that, but I’m… going to try. You drive me insane, Gianna. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I go to bed. I’ve written you into my music. I think about you constantly. For years. When we were younger, it was easier to just… be a dick. I thought if we fought and you decided you hated me it would be easier to get over you. It didn’t work. Obviously. Then I thought moving away would do it. Being a rockstar, hooking up with girls, the whole nine yards. Every time, every girl, I couldn’t help but compare them to you. It made me sick. And then, God, you were here. You moved to LA. And you’re a woman now. Gianna, you have no idea how beautiful you are. I told myself being your friend was enough. That I was ok watching you go out with the losers you date. I thought maybe I just wasn’t supposed to be happy, but then you just started doing things that gave me hope. Holding my hand, cuddling me during a movie night. Fuck, the night you had me pick you up from the club you told me how cute my butt is and you tried to kiss me. It gave me hope, and it messed with my head. So I hid. I locked myself in my room and ignored everyone. I looked up porn about fucking your best friend’s sister and scrolled until I found an actress that looked close enough to you that I could get off. But then you were there, and I panicked. I hurt you and I pushed you away when all I’ve ever wanted was you to be close. To be mine. Fuck- I love you, Gianna Ruffilo, and it’s been killing me to keep it to myself.”
I pull back from him and stare.
“You love…..me?” I question softly
His face pulls a pained expression and he nods. “I know I shouldn't but I can’t stop. I’ve tried.”
My eyes dart wildly around his face. If there's one thing I know for sure, Noah’s a bit of an ass- but he’s not a liar.
And I’ve loved him this whole time too.
I can’t help the little laugh that bubbles out of me. His face falls and he drops his hands from my face, stepping back.
”You don’t- It’s cruel to laugh, Gianna, even if you don’t feel it.” He says crestfallen.
I soften in an instant. I stop towards him and reach for his hand.
”Noah… No. You got it wrong. I’m laughing because we’re fucking stupid. I’ve been in love with you my whole life. We could have been… something… if we weren’t idiots,” I say gently.
He raises his eyebrows with a disbelieving laugh. He pointed at me and then himself, and back again. I nod with a laugh and a smile. He looks at me wildly for a moment before he’s on me.
Noah Davis is kissing me.
I feel his hands shake where he grips my jaw. The kiss is not sweet, or gentle or soft. It’s years of longing and desperation pouring out. Our lips press together with bruising force. My teeth clack against his and I feel him huff out a laugh into my mouth. With every pass of his lips against mine pleasure surges through me and I melt into him. I only pull back when my brain starts to fuzz from the rush of dopamine and the lack of oxygen. He tilts my head back and presses his lips to my neck. Slowly he trails his mouth across the skin at my neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin. With every bite, his tongue soothes over where his teeth scraped and I whimper at the feeling.
”That’s my girl. Lemme hear you,” he murmurs into my neck before placing another bite just below my jaw.
I moan, my head lulling back giving him even more access to my throat. Pressing myself into him, I reach out blindly for any part of him to grab, my nails digging into his forearms. He hisses and bites my shoulder, teeth sinking into flesh before his soft lips and tongue trace patterns over the mark. The air around us is hot, and I can’t tell anymore if it’s from the heatwave or the energy between us. Noah’s hands leave me momentarily before they find a home again on my hips and he’s leading me around. I stumble and swear, and he laughs into my skin. Before I know it, the plush comforter on his bed touches the back of my knees and he’s easing me to lay down on the bed, my legs dangling off the edge. He trails kisses down my neck to my chest, biting my nipple through the thin cotton of my shirt, before trailing wet open mouthed kisses further south. Down my stomach, my thigh, calves, all the way to my feet. I watch him as he worships every inch of my skin he can find. His hair is a mess, his skin flushed, and a haze of pleasure wears beautifully across his face. Every touch, every kiss, every bite is for his own pleasure, as if he’s getting off on worshipping me. He finally looks up at me from down on his knees, pressing his face into my thigh and biting softly.
“Let me taste you,” he begs softly.
My breath hitches. My lips part but no sound comes out. Noah smiles soft and presses his lips to my knee in a barely there kiss.
“Please? I’ve dreamed about it for years. Want to make you feel so good, Gi. Please, pretty girl?” he purrs.
I barely finish my nod before his long tattooed fingers are tugging my shorts and my panties. He readjusts so my legs fall open and his broad shoulders fit between them. His mouth parts and I see his pupils blow as he takes me in. He reaches a hand out and spreads me open and just… stares at me with a small smile. I feel a calloused finger gently tracing my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. A whine escapes me and I cover my face with my hands. I hear his chuckle as he plays with the swollen bud.
“Look at her. Fucking gorgeous. This is the prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen,” he rasps as more sounds escape me.
He doesn’t stop there. The finger leaves me and before I can even mourn its absence, Noah’s mouth is on me. He licks me from top to bottom, taking my clit between his teeth and nibbling softly. I can’t hold my noises in, and it seems that every moan and whimper spurs him on. I pull my hands from my face and prop myself up on my elbows to look at him. His eyes flick up to mine and they’re glazed over. He’s enjoying this as much as I am. He pulls his mouth back only to exchange it with his fingers again. Two inked fingers work their way inside of me, pumping in and out.
“Hear that? She likes me. Gonna have to stretch her out a bit if she’s swallowing my fingers down like this. No way she can take my cock yet,” he muses.
With that he puts his mouth back on me, working in tandem with his fingers. It doesn’t take long for pleasure to wash over me. He licks me gently through the aftershocks before crawling up my body to kiss me. I arch up into him and his hands trail over me.
“More,” I gasp into his mouth.
“Hmm? Pretty girl needs more? You want me inside you?” He hums against my lips.
I shamelessly nod and whine into his mouth, “Please.”
With a smirk he’s gently moving me up his bed resting me against the pillows. With slow hands he pulls my tank top up and off of me, taking a moment to lean back on his heels and stare at me.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says gently as his fingertips dance over my skin.
“I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?” He asks with a laugh as he tweaks one of my peer nipples.
“Shut the fuck up! You know what I meant,” I snap.
Noah smiles that boxy, boyish smile that I love so much and quips, “Just because I’m about to fuck you doesn’t mean I won’t give you a hard time, brat.”
I huff and he laughs before sitting back to tug his shorts and boxers off. His cock springs out, thick and long and flushed. He gives it a few lazy strokes and I stare. I stare a lot. He’s been packing that this whole time? Unfair. Now I know why all his exes acted like that. That thing, and the head. He settles himself between my thighs again and drags his tip through my folds teasingly. I suck a deep breath in as he slowly pushes in, inching ever so slightly until he’s buried completely.
“Fuck, Gianna, you feel like heaven. This pussy was made for me, baby. Gripping me so tight. Practically choking me,” he grits out, shallowly moving his hips to give me a moment to adjust.
“God- Noah, fuck. Move, please” I beg.
He listens to me, rolling his hips into mine. He lifts one of my legs and wraps it around his waist, providing a deeper angle for us. My reaction is immediate, arching up into him and reaching for his face. I press my lips to his desperately as he thrusts in and out. My tongue dances with his as our bodies collide. Heavy breaths and moans escape the both of us and immediately find a home in the other’s mouth. His hips stutter into mine and he swears under his breath.
“Not gonna last long, ‘m sorry. You feel- feel too good,” Noah mumbles.
“Come with me. Please,” I whimper, kissing over his jaw.
I reach for his hand and lace our fingers together. He drives his hips into me the last few times before we break together. I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me at the same time I feel the warmth of his release painting inside of me. He slides from me slowly and I feel him spill out of me. A reverent kiss gets placed on my damp forehead and he mumbles against my skin that he’ll be right back. I close my eyes and let myself sink into his bed, still floating high and hazy from the pleasure. What feels like a lifetime but is really only a few moments later, a damp cloth brushes against my thighs. I crack an eye open and watch him clean me up with soft gentle motions. I watch his eyes trace over me, all traces of lust gone, and only care and concern remaining. He’s checking if he hurt me. I reach out and tug him to me. He lays down next to me, pulling me to his chest and tucking me under his arm. A soft kiss is dropped into my hair and I hum contentedly.
“You didn’t hurt me. That was perfect, thank you,” I whisper.
He tosses the blankets around until only his thin top sheet is left and he pulls that over us. He shifts me closer to him, as if trying to fuse me to his body.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I’m sorry it took us so long to get here,” Noah softly speaks into my undoubtedly frizzy hair.
“We’re here now, that’s what matters. I love you, Noah Davis. I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. We can make up for lost time.”
“I love you too, Gianna Ruffilo. More than I ever thought possible.”
I sigh as exhaustion overtakes me and I snuggle into his chest. Noah’s chest rumbles as he softly hums to me, as if singing a lullaby. I recognize the rhythm, it’s one of Bad Omens songs- ‘If I’m There’. The sound of his voice and the deep seeded exhaustion of finally falling into bed with the man I love pulls me under quicker than I anticipated.
I’m not too far gone, however, to hear him whispering to himself as he assumes I’m asleep.
“Please, don’t let me ruin this.”