summary: so what if noah wants to spoil you? that’s why you have his card.
warnings: little to none, suggestive near the end.
a/n: okay i don’t 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!
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.
“those are cute,” he said.
“they’re expensive,” you countered, glancing at him. “i don’t need them.”
noah tilted his head, eyes steady and unreadable in that way that always made your stomach flip. “how much?”
“almost three hundred”
he didn’t even blink. he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slid his card across the marble like he was pushing poker chips. “use mine.”
you laughed. “noah.”
“i’m serious.”
“i have money” you reminded him, crossing your arms. “i work. im not helpless.”
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.
“i know you’re not helpless” he said. “that’s not the point.”
“then what is?”
his jaw flexed slightly. “i want to.”
there was something in his tone that made heat creep up your neck. it wasn’t condescending. it wasn’t dismissive.
it was possessive.
“you don’t have to take care of me like that” you murmured.
noah’s thumb brushed the hem of his hoodie where it swallowed your thighs. “but i want to be the one who does.”
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. “give me your phone” he said, already reaching for it.
you blinked. “noah.”
“just give it.”
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.
“what did you just do?” you asked, already knowing.
he finally looked at you. “so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“about what?”
“paying for things.”
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.
“i can pay for my own things” you said carefully.
“i know.”
there wasn’t a hint of doubt in his voice.
“i don’t want you to.”
your pulse fluttered. “why?”
his gaze dropped briefly to where his hand rested on you before lifting again.
“because I like it” he admitted quietly. “i like knowing you’re taken care of.”
you tried to laugh it off, but your breath came out thinner than you meant it to. “you’re pushy”
his mouth curved faintly. “uou have no idea.”
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 you’ve been wanting to expand your wardrobe.
so, there you stood at the checkout with noah’s card on display.
you inhaled and tapped.
approved.
your phone buzzed before you even got your items bagged.
noah🖤: you used it.
you: yeah, i did.
the typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
noah🖤: good.
another message.
noah🖤: that’s my girl.
you stare at the screen longer than you should have. your friends were laughing about something, but their voices felt distant.
you didn’t 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 didn’t look up right away. “have fun?”
you leaned against the doorway. “i did.” 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.
“you turned on notifications?” you ask, quirking up an eyebrow.
“i did” he said.
“why?”
“i like knowing i pay for things.”
heat crept up your spine.
you swallowed “you’re ridiculous.”
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.
“i work hard” he murmured. “let me spend it on you.”
you stay in place, lookinh inti his eyes. you nod, “okay.” your voice is soft.
he leans in, pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth. teasing. “good”
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. you’d glance at your phone, waiting for the inevitable text.
and it always came.
noah🖤: use it babe.
noah🖤: good.
noah🖤: 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 didn’t tell him. it was just something for yourself. a quiet line you wouldn’t 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 hadn’t 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.
noah🖤: still shopping?
you exhaled slowly.
you: yeah.
noah🖤: finding anything?
you: i did.
noah🖤: 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.
“show me” he said quietly.
You did.
Silence.
“That one.” he decided.
“It’s over a thousand” you said quickly, showing off the tag.
“and?”
your throat went dry. “i don’t spend that much at once.”
his eyes flicked back to your face.
“why?”
you hesitated.
‘because i don’t want to get used to this. because i don’t want to feel dependent. because i don’t want you thinking I need you for that.’
“it feels excessive” you admitted.
you watch him lean back in his chair, studying you like you were something fragile he was trying not to shatter.
“baby.” he said softly, but there was steel underneath. “you think i add my card to your phone for small purchases only?”
your pulse hammered. “it’s a lot of money, noah.”
“i know exactly how much it is.”
his voice dropped lower.
“i want you to use it. buy it.”
the boutique felt warmer. smaller. your thumb hovered over the screen again, the price glowing at you.
“you’re sure?”
he didn’t hesitate.
“i want to see it go through.”
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.
“good” he murmured.
your knees felt weak.
“bring it home” he added, voice darker now. “put it on for me.”
when you stepped into his bedroom later that night wearing the silk, the tension snapped tight between you.
he didn’t 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.
“look at you” he’d 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.
“noah” you say against his lips, but he says nothing. he’s too busy remembering the way your body feels under his touch, even when he’s done this a thousand times.
then, “i love knowing i take care of you.” he mutters against your skin.
“all pretty in a dress i paid for” he’s absolutely drunk on you. “spoiling you..”
your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, “babe” 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. “take it off.”
you blink.
“what?”
“take it off” he repeats. his hand reaches up to the strap of your dress.
“noah, this dress was expen-“
he shuts you up with another kiss. it wasn’t slow like the other ones. this one was messy and rough. “don’t care. take it off”
