#he's annoying and sweet looking and has curly hair so like ??? noam call me if you're free

[sweetdreamhellofanight]

Matchmaker

Noam Dar x Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 1,538 Summary: “Nothing to worry about,” he said. It made you worry even more. 

“What do you think of her?” he asked, sliding his phone in front of you, forcing your attention onto him. 

You shrugged. She looked like every other woman he’d shown you, 

“She looks nice,” you said. 

“You’ve said that about everyone,” he replied. 

“They’re all nice, Noam, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said. 

He sat back and sighed, 

“I think no,” he said, and swiped left. 

You shook your head, but went back to your own work, 

“What about you?” he asked, trying to peer over your screen. 

You ignored him, 

“I’ve never seen your profile on here,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “how have we not matched? I thought I was your dream man?” 

You groaned loudly, and watched him frown, 

“I don’t do dating apps anymore,” you said. “Don’t have the time.” 

“Oh I see,” he said, moving so that he could sit next to you, “an old fashioned one, aren’t you?” he teased. 

“I’m not looking,” you said. 

“Of course you’re not, you’re a busy woman, you’ve got too much on your plate,” he said, one arm around your chair, the other propped up under his chin, watching you with a smile that was too excited to make you feel good. “Shame though, a woman like yourself shouldn’t be alone.” 

“Thank you?” you said. 

“And if you don’t have the time, well…” he trailed off. 

“Noam,” you said, warningly, “whatever you’re planning, do not.” 

He shook his head, 

“Not planning anything, sweetheart,” he said, with a wink.

You turned to face him, fully, now, 

“I’m serious,” you said. 

Still, he smiled wide, nose scrunched, eyes nearly shut as he shook his head, 

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. 

It made you worry even more. 

But he left before you could say anything else, yelling after him though you knew he was ignoring it. 

***

“Here,” he said, sliding his phone over to you. You stared at him for a moment, afraid to look down at what he was about to show you. “It’s not for me,” he said. 

“That’s why I’m worried,” you said. 

He smiled, 

“Just take a look!” 

“Tyler Bate?” you asked. 

He shrugged, 

“You just want me to distract him before your match against him,” you said, pushing his phone back. 

“Smart girl,” he said with a wink, and you had to pretend as if it did nothing for you. “But you’re right, I’d never set you up with him. How about him?” 

The next picture was Ariya, and while there was no denying how handsome Ariya was, you knew there was no chance you two would ever work out. 

So you shook your head, 

“We don’t fit,” you said. 

“You could!” Noam said. 

You smiled, turning back to your own work, 

“You’re sweet to say that but he’s not my type,” you replied. 

“He’s Ariya Daivari, he’s everyone’s type,” he said. 

“So you date him, then,” you said. 

“I’m out of his league,” he responded, flexing his arms for you, kissing his bicep. 

You rolled your eyes, 

“Of course you are.” 

“Listen, if I tell Ariya about you there’s no chance he’ll say no,” he continued. 

“I’m sure he’s already got someone, I mean look at him, that doesn’t stay single, you know?” you replied, trying desperately to change the subject. 

“He’d settle down for you,” he said. 

You tried not to smile, knowing it didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. 

But it was still sweet that he said it. 

“I’m gonna pass,” you said. 

“I’ll keep looking,” he said as he left the room, eyes glued to his phone. 

“You don’t have to do that!” you called after him.

But it didn’t stop him. 

Any moment alone with Noam was a moment where he tried to point out any man around you, gauging your interest.

“I’ve got it, Fabian Aichner,” he announced as you picked him up to go out for lunch. 

“I thought you hated him?” you asked. 

“I don’t hate him!” he said, defensively, “I just said I don’t think there’s too much going on up there in that bald head of his.” 

“Don’t be mean, Noam,” you said. 

“So you’ll go out with him?”

“Well not after you said that,” you said.  

He nodded, 

“What about his pal, Barthel?” he asked. 

“I’m good,” you said. 

“You’re right, they’re more of a package deal, can’t have one without the other,” he said. 

The next week he’d found you at the gym and continued his search there, trying to set you up on a date with James Drake while you both were in the middle of a workout. 

You apologized to James, but it was Noam who’d caught most of the heat from him. 

It did make you laugh, though, so it wasn’t a terrible outcome in the end. 

The week after he’d moved away from the UK roster, settling on the 205 boys you knew so well, positive that he’d find you someone from that line up. 

“You said no to Ariya,” he said, laying on your couch while you cleaned up. You nudged his foot with the vacuum and he hung both his legs over the arm of the couch. “Which I still don’t understand, but what about Oney Lorcan?” he asked. 

You paused, as you put the vacuum away. 

Longer than you should’ve, you realized, making Noam smile again as though he’d cracked your code, 

“Ah so that’s it, is it?” he asked, sitting up and pulling his phone out. 

This time, he didn’t slide it towards you, didn’t ask any follow up questions, but typed something out quickly which made you panic. 

“Please don’t!” you said, trying to grab his phone out of his hands, 

“No, it’s too late,” he said, holding it out of reach. “He has your number, and says he’s going to ask you to go out tomorrow night.” 

You lunged at him, but Noam was faster. 

“I’m going to kill you,” you said as he tried to move out of reach. 

“What’s wrong with Oney?” he asked. 

“Nothing! But why would you set him up with me before telling me?” you asked. 

“Because you two would be perfect together!” he said. 

You sighed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Why are you trying so hard to set me up?” you asked. 

He shrugged, taking a seat beside you, 

“Why not?” he asked. “You deserve to be happy.” 

“What if I am happy already?” you asked. 

“Are you?” he asked. 

You nodded, turning your head to look at him. 

Both of you, with your heads resting on the back of the couch, staring at each other. 

“Yeah,” you said, quietly, “I am.” 

“I just thought…” he started, looking away, “you deserve someone who’s...good to you.” 

Your stomach churned and your heart beat faster, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say what was on your mind, what was on the tip of your tongue. 

“Oney’s not really my type,” you said, quietly, smiling at him. 

He sighed and nodded, 

“So what is your type?” he asked. 

“Well…” you started, looking up at the ceiling instead of at him. “Not too much taller than me, I don’t really want permanent neck pain for some guy.”

He chuckled, but didn’t interrupt so you kept going. 

“Someone who can make me laugh, you know? They don’t even have to be funny, but they gotta be willing to make me laugh.” 

He kept nodding. 

“Curly hair, preferably. I like the way it feels when I run my hands through it.” 

Now he watched you through the corner of his eyes, but you didn’t look at him. 

“Looks good with and without facial hair. I need that duality in my life. Also, if he’s got facial hair, he’s gotta keep it trim and proper.” 

His hand instinctively went to cheek, but tried to play it off as though he only needed to scratch it. 

“Oh and he’s gotta have a nice, thick, Scottish accent,” you added with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You devil, you know Kenny Williams is a married man,” he teased. 

You turned to him, trying not to laugh as you hit him on the arm. 

“You dumbass,” you scolded, “I’m not talking about Kenny Williams.” 

“Then who’re you talking about?” he asked, moving closer to you, his voice getting softer. 

And you took a chance. 

Because you were tired of pretending you didn’t feel like this, like it wasn’t going to lead anywhere. 

And you pulled his face towards you and kissed him. 

And when he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, and moaned as you tangled your hands in his hair, you knew it was all real. 

It wasn’t just in your head, it wasn’t just a dumb crush. 

You and Noam. 

He pulled back, breathless, lips red and slightly puffed, 

“I think you should tell Oney it’s a no from me,” you said, softly. 

He smiled, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned back in, 

“I never texted him,” he said. 

“Then what did you do?” you asked, slightly worried again. 

“I made dinner reservations for us,” he whispered. 

“Bastard,” you whispered. 

“I’m your bastard now,” he replied, kissing you again.