#noah reed

[stbmoving]

The only one who truly cares 🥺💕

[jnxper]

Hiii i have a request: Mason brings the reader to an awards show, and the paparazzi ask if the reader is his girlfriend and he doesn’t deny it.

Maybe She is

— In wich,Mason takes you to an award show as his companion and everyone is wondering if you are together.

"It'll be fine,baby,I promise."—Mason says,his hands rubbing your arms as you stand in front of him.

"I know, I'm just...nervous. What if-?"

"No "what ifs". You belong here. With me."

"I'm not so sure,Mase... We're not even public yet and people-"

Mason, already knowing how you feel and what you were going to say,interrupts your negative thoughts.

"Don't care what people say,love,I love you. And I want you to be with me."-he says,hugging you.

"Me too... Just... Don't make it public yet,ok? It's not that I don't want to- I promise,I do. I... it's just the whole hating thing,you know?"

"Yes,baby,I understand. Don't worry about it... We're being picked up in 10 minutes,is that alright with you,love?"

You nod. You and Mason were then on your way to the Emmys. You two were invited by the industry to go.

"How are you feeling,baby?"-Mason asks,whispering into your ear since there were a lor of eyed on you two already.

"I'm good,Mase,you gotta stop worry so much about me."-You try to laugh it off.

"You know I can't. Oh,look,there,come with me,will ya?"-He says,as he notices an interviewer waving at him.

You walk alongside him,with your arms linked with one another.

"Hello,Mason! How are you doing this night?"-The man asks.

"Very good,thank you so much."

"Oh,and who is this lovely lady right here? Could she possibly be your girlfriend?"-The man asks,pointing the microphone at Mason's face,way too close.

"Maybe she is."-Mason says,already sensing that the next questions would be uncomfortable to both of you based off the interviewer's big smirk.

"Oh,we feeling cryptic today!" And what is your name?"

You reply,telling the man your name with a shy smile on your lips.

"Sweet! And how are you feeling being Mason's companion for the night?"

You frown at the answer. It sermed innocent at first,but the interviewer's tone implied something else. And that made you defensive of yourself,but made Mason much more.

"Actually, she's been my companion for a lot of events."-Mason answers in your turn.

"Must be serious,hum?"-The interviewer invades your personal space,almost hitting you with the microphone from how close is was to your face. You were incredibly uncomfortable now.

"Yes,it is. Now,if you excuse us."-Mason says,wrapping a hand around your waist and getting you two out of there.

"What the fuck was that,Mason?"-You ask your boyfriend,rolling your eyes at him when you two get to a corner of the event.

"He was being incovenient. Come on,you could also tell."-He says,his eyes wide as he explains himself.

"Yeah,I know. But the way you reacted wasn't a very good look."-You sigh,running a hand through your long hair.

"I know,but I couldn't help it,ok? I'm sorry. I am."-he says,as he takes a step closer to you with an apologetic look in his eyes.

"No,you're not."

"Yeah...not really. But he was totally attacking us,ok?"

"Ok,overreacting king. Thank you for the protection though."

"Anytime,princess."

"But,seriously,people are going to probably cancel you over that shit."

"Yeah...worth it, though. I love you"

"Love you too."

[poprockcandies]

°⋆｡distractions

​🇳​​🇴​​🇦​​🇭​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇪​​🇩​

✦ synopsis: in which you're noah's favourite distraction

⟡ content warnings: none just fluff!

✦ word count: 572

✮⋆ a/n: i wrote this instead of paying attention to physics. also i added some decor to his treehouse that wasn't actually in the movie bc i can. also @cxmryns4rchive saw this first ⋆✮

Noah's treehouse is your favourite hideout on the entire Vineyard—the island or his mother's. It's so him—it's got his personality in every corner.

The telescope by the window. The desk with his typewriter he writes all his articles on. The notebook and loose pages of short stories and abandoned articles thrown around on the table. His backpack, his baseball cap, his bat, his ball. The posters upon posters on every wall. The pictures of all his friends. The pictures of you. The bookshelf full of books. The beanbag. The blackboard he writes all his story ideas and leads on and that he lets you—and only you—draw little faces and doodles on. And the couch across from his desk at the opposite end of the room where you and Noah are sitting.

He's laying on the sofa, head on the armrest. You're on his lap, straddling his waist, and he's got his knees drawn up for you to rest your back on. You're holding his hands, tugging them around and playing with them as he caresses the backs of your hands with his thumbs.

He's in his baseball uniform. You love seeing him in it because god he looks good in red.

"Don't you have to leave for your game soon?" you ask, fiddling with his fingers.

He shrugs. "Don't worry about that."

You bite back a smile and tilt your head. "Noah," you scold.

"Y/NNNNN," he mocks.

You narrow your eyes, tonguing the inside of your cheek. For someone on the baseball team who loves the sport so much, he sure likes to find excuses to not go to his own games.

You're about to chastise him a little more when he tightens his grip on your hands and pulls you down into his chest. You yelp, pressing your intertwined hands into the armrest on either side of his head to stabilize yourself.

"Noah!" you shriek.

He laughs, nudges his nose against yours. "You know, I think we should just make out now."

You make a face of faux-annoyance. "Oh, you do, huh?"

He cuts off your grumbling by lifting his head and pressing his lips to yours. You smile into the kiss because fuck if he doesn't melt all your defenses.

"Mmmf—" You try and pull back to speak, to nag him about his game a little more, but he follows your head up and keeps his mouth firmly against yours.

Oh, well. Fuck his game. Making out is a good enough workout for you.

It's a couple more minutes of his mouth on yours and pure bliss before his mom starts calling for him. He doesn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear her?

She calls one more time. Two, three, four—ok, now he's just ignoring her.

"Noah—" you try.

"No," he says tightly, keeping his lips securely against yours. He sits up, a hand going to the small of your back as he slowly guides you to lay down—

"Noah, you're going to be late for your game! Get down now!" his mom yells again.

He groans and throws his head back, finally detaching his mouth from yours. "Fineeee!" he whines. When he turns back to you, he's pouting.

You laugh. "I told you."

He rolls his eyes, the hand still holding yours playing with yours fingers. "Whatever. You'll come and cheer me on, right?"

"Of course, I will."

He smiles and pecks your cheek.

[televisionsoap]

[untitled] - just a short thing I wrote

Noah Reed x reader

Summary: convincing Noah to watch a movie ig.

Content: gn! reader, 2nd pov, no use of y/n, not fully proofread, slight angst?

Words: ~380

A/n: I meant to post this a couple of weeks ago oops.

Noah sat in front of his desk, notebook opened, scribbling down words with a dull pencil. A mix of warm sunlight and strung up faerie lights brightened the space. He wrote quietly; only the sounds of rustling leaves and pencil on paper could be heard.

Branches reached out both above and below. The thinner ones moved with the wind– a couple of them hit your head during your climb.

You pushed up a wooden panel with one hand while silently fuming. Your head popped up through the wooden floorboards. At a distance was Noah, hunched over his desk.

"Thought you would be here," you said, hauling yourself up onto the floor. Noah lifted his pencil off of the page; your voice interrupted his flow. After setting his pencil down flat, he spun around in his chair. "We're about to head to the theatre."

"Oh... right."

"Are you gonna come?"

Silence fell between you and Noah while he thought it over. "I'm going to keep working on this. You guys have fun, though."

"You're the one who suggested that we go."

"I know..."

You sighed, making your way over to his side. Noah's notebook laid open on the desk. You tilted your head down to read what was written. It was another investigative piece; a dark theory as to why a well-earning shop suddenly closed.

After reading through the page, you lifted your head and let out a sigh. "Noah... Writing this type of stuff hasn't gotten you anywhere."

"I know."

"And it's not magically going to."

He opened his mouth to speak. Then didn't. Noah was upset; but did not want you to be.

"Your best option is to write a fluff piece," you continued.

"That's not what I want to write, though."

"Well... How about this," you started. An idea crossed your mind. "Write about your theatre experience."

People don't want to read about scary theories about their town. But they may be interested in theories about scary movies.

"Fine," Noah said with a sigh, pushing himself off of his chair.

Writing a slice of life piece was not something that he wanted to write either. But it gives him an excuse to watch a movie with you. So, Noah will take what he can get.

[ghostlyintellect]

Berating Exes

Tales of The Wretched One Brainrot go brrrr

[taiturner]

There are few greater pleasures in life than a good hotel bed.  Yeah, or two of them.  Look, I'm sorry. I had to book this on Amex points, and all the king size rooms were taken, so...

[ofskinwalkers]

Permanent Starter Call for Noah! Like this if you ever want a random starter posted with them!

[codswalloping]

My Canadian boyfriends watched the sports together last night looking like absolute dorks and I need to lie down