summary: so what if noah wants to spoil you? thatâs why you have his card.
warnings: little to none, suggestive near the end.
a/n: okay i donât know what this is really but i just had to get it out there. i cannot stop thinking of this pic of noah and just the thought of him being so insistent on spoiling you. enjoy!
Copyright Š 2026 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
18+ minors you have been warned.
the first time noah handed you his card, it was casual.
you were standing in his kitchen, barefoot on cool tile, wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of biker shorts, hair still damp from a shower. he was leaning against the counter, watching you scroll through your phone while you debated whether to order a new pair of shoes you had been eyeing for some time now.
âthose are cute,â he said.
âtheyâre expensive,â you countered, glancing at him. âi donât need them.â
noah tilted his head, eyes steady and unreadable in that way that always made your stomach flip. âhow much?â
âalmost three hundredâ
he didnât even blink. he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slid his card across the marble like he was pushing poker chips. âuse mine.â
you laughed. ânoah.â
âiâm serious.â
âi have moneyâ you reminded him, crossing your arms. âi work. im not helpless.â
he pushed off the counter and stepped closer, hands sliding around your waist until your back brushed the island. his voice dropped, soft but firm.
âi know youâre not helplessâ he said. âthatâs not the point.â
âthen what is?â
his jaw flexed slightly. âi want to.â
there was something in his tone that made heat creep up your neck. it wasnât condescending. it wasnât dismissive.
it was possessive.
âyou donât have to take care of me like thatâ you murmured.
noahâs thumb brushed the hem of his hoodie where it swallowed your thighs. âbut i want to be the one who does.â
it started small after that.
you were half-curled against him on the couch, your legs draped over his lap while some show played ignored in the background. his fingers were absently tracing patterns along your calf, attention split between you and his phone. âgive me your phoneâ he said, already reaching for it.
you blinked. ânoah.â
âjust give it.â
you watch him type in your passcode, searching for apps, then type in some random number before handing your phone back.
you picked up your phone. his name sat there under the digital card like it belonged. sleek, black, and unmistakably his.
âwhat did you just do?â you asked, already knowing.
he finally looked at you. âso you donât have to worry about it anymore.â
âabout what?â
âpaying for things.â
your stomach tightened. You shifted upright, but his hand slid from your calf to your thigh, steadying you there. not trapping, just grounding. his thumb pressed slow into the soft of your skin.
âi can pay for my own thingsâ you said carefully.
âi know.â
there wasnât a hint of doubt in his voice.
âi donât want you to.â
your pulse fluttered. âwhy?â
his gaze dropped briefly to where his hand rested on you before lifting again.
âbecause I like itâ he admitted quietly. âi like knowing youâre taken care of.â
you tried to laugh it off, but your breath came out thinner than you meant it to. âyouâre pushyâ
his mouth curved faintly. âuou have no idea.â
the first time you used it, you held the phone over the pinpad, his card lighting up the top half of your screen. his name sat there at the top of your payment methods.
you were out with your girlfriends, as you tend to do on off days. there was a new store that opened downtown and was totally your style.
a few pieces had caught your eye, and youâve been wanting to expand your wardrobe.
so, there you stood at the checkout with noahâs card on display.
you inhaled and tapped.
approved.
your phone buzzed before you even got your items bagged.
noahđ¤: you used it.
you: yeah, i did.
the typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
noahđ¤: good.
another message.
noahđ¤: thatâs my girl.
you stare at the screen longer than you should have. your friends were laughing about something, but their voices felt distant.
you didnât know why those three words settled so deep in your chest.
when you got back to his place that evening, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, phone loose in his hands.
he didnât look up right away. âhave fun?â
you leaned against the doorway. âi did.â you say, now moving around the bedroom to set your bags on the edge of the bed next to him.
now he looked at you.
âyou turned on notifications?â you ask, quirking up an eyebrow.
âi didâ he said.
âwhy?â
âi like knowing i pay for things.â
heat crept up your spine.
you swallowed âyouâre ridiculous.â
he stood then, closing the distance between you in two slow steps. his hand slid to your waist, fingers spreading just enough to make you aware of how easily he could pull you closer.
âi work hardâ he murmured. âlet me spend it on you.â
you stay in place, lookinh inti his eyes. you nod, âokay.â your voice is soft.
he leans in, pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth. teasing. âgoodâ
it became routine faster than you expected.
coffee on your way to work? tap.
dinner with your mom? gap.
a rideshare when it was raining? yap.
at first, every single time made your stomach flip. youâd glance at your phone, waiting for the inevitable text.
and it always came.
noahđ¤: use it babe.
noahđ¤: good.
noahđ¤: was lunch good baby?
he never asked what you bought. never asked for receipts. never questioned amounts.
he only cared that it was his card.
eventually, the hesitation faded. It became second nature. his name glowing at the top of your screen like it had always been there.
still, you made a rule.
nothing over six hundred dollars at once.
you didnât tell him. it was just something for yourself. a quiet line you wouldnât cross. a reminder that you could still stand on your own two feet.
the boutique was soft lit and quiet, the kind of place that made everything feel more expensive than it probably was.
you hadnât meant to find it.
the dress.
it hung near the back, silk that caught the light like water, low-backed, delicate straps, the kind of thing that would make noah go silent in that dangerous way he did when he was trying to hold himself together.
you checked the tag.
$1,120.
your chest tightened.
too much.
you stepped away immediately, heart already racing at the thought of it.
your phone buzzed in your hand.
noahđ¤: still shopping?
you exhaled slowly.
you: yeah.
noahđ¤: finding anything?
you: i did.
noahđ¤: show me.
your fingers trembled just slightly as you lifted the phone and snapped a picture and sent it before you could overthink it.
the facetime call came seconds later.
you answered.
he was in the studio, dim lighting carving shadows along his jaw, black shirt clinging to his shoulders. his expression shifted the moment he saw the dress on screen.
âshow meâ he said quietly.
You did.
Silence.
âThat one.â he decided.
âItâs over a thousandâ you said quickly, showing off the tag.
âand?â
your throat went dry. âi donât spend that much at once.â
his eyes flicked back to your face.
âwhy?â
you hesitated.
âbecause i donât want to get used to this. because i donât want to feel dependent. because i donât want you thinking I need you for that.â
âit feels excessiveâ you admitted.
you watch him lean back in his chair, studying you like you were something fragile he was trying not to shatter.
âbaby.â he said softly, but there was steel underneath. âyou think i add my card to your phone for small purchases only?â
your pulse hammered. âitâs a lot of money, noah.â
âi know exactly how much it is.â
his voice dropped lower.
âi want you to use it. buy it.â
the boutique felt warmer. smaller. your thumb hovered over the screen again, the price glowing at you.
âyouâre sure?â
he didnât hesitate.
âi want to see it go through.â
your breath faltered.
you stared at the total for three long seconds.
then you tapped.
approved.
the sound of it processing felt louder than it should have.
on the screen, noah exhaled slowly
satisfaction.
âgoodâ he murmured.
your knees felt weak.
âbring it homeâ he added, voice darker now. âput it on for me.â
when you stepped into his bedroom later that night wearing the silk, the tension snapped tight between you.
he didnât touch you at first.
he just looked.
his eyes traveled slowly, deliberately, memorizing the way the fabric clung to your waist, dipped along your spine, traced your hips.
his hands slid slowly along the silk at your waist, reverent, possessive in a way that made your pulse stutter.
âlook at youâ heâd mutter quietly, breath hot on your skin. and the way his lips finally found yours. slow, controlled, almost grateful. he made it very clear that this had never been about the price tag.
his hand found the backside of the dress, his calloused palm splayed over your skin, causing goosebumps.
ânoahâ you say against his lips, but he says nothing. heâs too busy remembering the way your body feels under his touch, even when heâs done this a thousand times.
then, âi love knowing i take care of you.â he mutters against your skin.
âall pretty in a dress i paid forâ heâs absolutely drunk on you. âspoiling you..â
your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, âbabeâ you try again, but to no avail.
his nose brushes against the curve of your neck. his hands are everywhere.
he finally pulls away. he rests his forehead against yours. âtake it off.â
you blink.
âwhat?â
âtake it offâ he repeats. his hand reaches up to the strap of your dress.
ânoah, this dress was expen-â
he shuts you up with another kiss. it wasnât slow like the other ones. this one was messy and rough. âdonât care. take it offâ
heâs already working off the second strap.
âi want youâ he says, guiding the silk fabric.
