Maevey Gravy

Noel told himself time and time again he could resist your influence. Late nights spent in the studio, hearing the borderline angelic tones coming from the room literally next door to his. Head in his hands, trying to convince himself he wasn’t listening, that this wasn’t even a thing. That you weren’t a thing.

Unfortunately, you were the one thing in his life he hadn’t prepared for.

Noel’s a consistent being, especially since the breakdown of Oasis all those years ago - all he needed now was to live a life that had some form of normalcy. He woke up, kissed his wife good morning, checked if his kids were all sorted for school, then off to the studio to start creating some new songs. Songs to break from old habits with the high flying birds, now a thing living outside of his head rather than in his mind; larger than anything. Noel’s life was good - nice kids, nice house, nice wife most of all; Sara was the best thing in his life, his absolute rock. Almost 20 years married going strong.

So why now was he questioning it all?

He looks up at the ceiling, hands falling away uselessly to his side, hearing the knock on the door.

He let you in immediately.

۪　⊹︵︵︵ ♪ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⠀۪

He still remembers the first time he saw you move in. You, some bright eyed 20 something year old, stood in an outfit that showed way too much skin for the cold October day, suckling on a lollipop whilst you watched movers grab boxes upon boxes of equipment. He’d skulked outside to see what all the commotion was about- the studio next door to his had been completely empty for a good few months, the last failing artist having shacked up his stuff, called it a day, left in the night. He was boring- never wanted a chat, never even really paid much attention.

Noel could tell you were different.

He’d felt like such a dick, that day, gawping at you as you flitted between boxes, making sure the men were being “10,000%” careful with your stuff. He’d laughed. Thought you were cute. That was just an age thing, at 44, you were allowed to think the younger generation were cute. That was, at least, until you spotted him.

“Alright?” You said, the sun beating down into your too long lashes, were they fake? Noel couldn’t tell. He wasn’t used to analysing stuff in this much detail. He also wasn’t used to people being so bold around him, “Sorry about the noise, Noel, we’ll be outta your hair soon”

You knew who he was. Of course you did, he was the best fucking thing to come out of Manchester in a long time, there was no doubt about that.

“Oh, you’re alright sweetheart,” He’d said, his voice catching in his throat a little. He swallowed, trying to get rid of some of the tension pulling at his vocal cords, “Need a hand?”

“That’d be fab, thanks”

۪　⊹︵︵︵ ♪ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⠀۪

Noel also, regrettably, remembered the first time you’d come around. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d seen you. But he heard you, alright. Heard the beautiful saccharine tones falling from your lips in the next room over, heard the girly bubbly tunes playing loudly from speakers as what seemed like crowds of your friends gushed all over them, the song distracting him from his own writing. But it wasn’t the song, was it.

He also heard the late night rendezvous with male partners. It’d started off quiet at first, a little giggle here and there while he strummed on his guitar, the slight knocking about of furniture. The sound of a low male rasp against your bubbly feminine tone. Were you-

His question was answered fast, faster than he wanted to. He sat there with his notebook in-front of him, face, unfortunately, blushed a sickening shade of red as he pretended not to listen to the honey sweet sighs falling from your lips, or the way they evolved into something much more pornographic as the thudding from the room got louder.

What was impossible to ignore, was the sick straining of his cock against his jeans.

۪　⊹︵︵︵ ♪ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⠀۪

Quickly though, the two of you became friends. Hallway pals at first, a slight nod of his head, and the ridiculously sweet waves you gave him, “y’alright Noel?” slipping from your lips making him smile as he walked off, hands in his pockets, smiling too much for a man who was currently going back to a room his wife was in.

You’d spent some time together, having invited him into your studio space for his input on a song, sitting far too close to him on the couch. He could feel the way your breasts pressed against his arm, not wanting to admit to himself that he actually missed the sensation the second you pulled away, “Yeah- uh, yeah it’s good, darlin’”

“Yeah?” You’d said it in a way that made his stomach drop, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead as he nodded.

He felt sick, not ill, just absolutely twisted. His head held in his hands more often than he’d like these days, cursing himself for the way his dick throbbed in his jeans when he thought of you. Thinking of you with his wife asleep in the bed behind him.

He’d curse himself out, obviously, running hands down his face as he gave into it. Gave into you. Leaning over Sara to kiss her awake, fumbling with his boxers to pull them down as her sleep soft arms made their way around his neck. Sara. He reminded himself as he sunk deep into you. — Her.

But there was still the occasional time your name almost left his lips as he fucked her. Hips snapping feverishly as he shoved her head down into the pillows. It was easier to think it was you that way.

Both of you knew the tension would snap, you felt it for a while. The teasing drag of your hand over his every time you begged him for help. You were so pretty when you did that, leaning against the doorframe all soft, your hair in rollers.

“What’ve you got that shit in for?”

“Got a party later old man, need your help real quick”

He’d let himself stand behind you, one hand bracketing you in on your right side, the other idling by his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. He adjusted a knob on the mixing desk. Showed you how to do it like this was just private tutoring just for you. “Go on try it” He’d said, about to pull back. Until your hand covered his own, feeling the way the music changed in its tone as you moved the knob around. Noel had to bite on his lower lip to stop him from saying anything.

Sure he was old. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still appreciate a pretty little thing like you. With your bright smiles, your pleases and thankyou, the way your hand slammed against the wall you knew the couch in his side of the studio was on when you were being fucked out of your mind. It was only a matter of time before the game was up.

۪　⊹︵︵︵ ♪ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⠀۪

The divorce came quietly, but not exactly a surprise. Hell, he’d even conversed it with you.

It’d been a late night, you brought him into your studio mainly for the purpose of trying to flirt through those marital barriers. Sat on the couch - you with a cocktail can held within your perfectly manicured nails tapping against the condensing aluminum. It rocked through his mind like nails down a chalkboard — no, it wasn’t that unpleasant. The sound turned to a silent melody in no time as he turned to look at you.

“Sara and I called it off”

He held your eyes for a moment, steely blue eyes trailing down your soft face, your soft body, that velvet tracksuit you always fucking wore. It was all worse tonight, the feelings, the guilt. The need. He watched you carefully as you shuffled on the couch.

You were trying to hide a smile from your face.

“Really?”

“Really” He echoed, sitting back on the couch with a shrug like it didn't really bother him. It didn't really, he and Sara hadn't been a 'couple' in the traditional sense for years now- romance consisted mainly through the children: talks late at night in bed about how Donovan was getting on in school, was Sonny enjoying that new football team he'd joined? Was Anais coming round soon because they really hadn't seen each other in a while-

His rambling thoughts were cut off by you. You, so much younger, so much sweeter- softer. Nothing like the cold affection he'd received from his actual wife, nothing like he'd felt in months. Especially not when your hand made it's way to his knee, leaning in close like you wanted to whisper a secret, "I'm sorry..."

He swallowed. He didn't want to turn his head where it was focused on a stack of crates across the room. They were pink. Fucking pink. Who in their right mind would have pink crates and a pink studio and who the fuck would be thinking this much about a girl half his age-

He was trying to stop himself from turning towards you.

But the pull proved to be too much. Losing the internal battle- the struggle, he turned his head. Blue eyes met big expectant ones, your lips so close to one another's that if either of you wavered just the slightest bit they'd be brushing, hot breathing mingling in the space between. Too close Noel. He didn't listen to his mind. Licked his lips, trying to fight with the pull to glance down at your own, "Don't be..."

You smiled at that, hand coming up to brush against his jaw so gently as you shifted further up the couch so thighs pressed against his. You could see the way the contact made his jaw work, the way it clicked and his hand tensed on his thigh like he was putting in real effort not to grab you right now. “Don’t be” you repeated softly, thumb brushing over the height of his cheekbone. He looked absolutely torn.

Noel didn't even know what to say, didn't know how to behave. The pull he felt was too strong, too much for him to handle, your thumb dusting across his cheek just pushing him. Pushing him over the edge.

And that's when he kissed you. Warm, soft lips met yours, so soft and gentle the contact felt barely there. His hand made its way to your thigh, warm against the soft fabric of your comfy joggers, gripping tighter as he deepened the kiss. The other made it's way to the base of your hair, tugging slightly as his lips made gape to shove his tongue into your mouth-

Fuck.

He pulled away with a sharp gasp. The memories flooding back in of his wife waiting at home, always so dutiful despite the years of cold affection passed between them. His kids in bed, waiting for the stories dad would come home and tell them of his time in the studio, what he was working on. What was he doing? He couldn't even think properly with the slick little line of spit connecting both of your lips, the warm atmosphere of your fucking girly little studio causing his head to spin, the sweet smell of the soft perfume you always - always wore, the one he always noticed, the one he couldn't get out of bed when he was at home by himself trying not to fuck his fist at the scent of you somehow lingering on his shirt-

But, as always, you cut him off again.

This time with soft lips hitting his harder than before, teeth clashing as you clambered into his lap. "Don't think about it" You breathed against his lips, seated yourself so perfectly over his half hard dick bulging against the seam of his jeans, "Don't think about them". He groaned as you pushed yourself back against him, hands instinctively flying to your thighs to tug you jarder against his growing erection, a slight moan leaving his open lips as he let your tongue invade, hands gripping you impossibly tighter as your tongues fought between your mouths.

"Fuck" He almost growled, pulling away once more - not to stop whatever was going on now - no. He made himself clear, "You're always in my fuckin' head aren't you" Pushing you back by your shoulders until your back rested against the comfy cushions of the couch, already propping himself over you. The hand that had been clenched in the back of your hair now flying down to your throat. Not to squeeze, just to hold, quiet dominance in a way he knew his wife would never let him. Never wanted. But here you were - some pretty ;little thing half his age, the thing he could never get out of his head, finally under his control. The thought made him dizzy. "You've been fucking gagging to get between me and my wife"

He leant down, practically growling the words out against you lips as one thick, calloused hand shoved your thighs open, lowering his hips to press his growing bulge against your core. He wanted you to feel bad - god, he knew it was fucking twisted, knew it was wrong what he was saying. But as his hardness met your core, already hot even through the sweats, he couldn't help but groan, hand squeezing your throat tighter. Head dropping down to your collarbone like he couldn't bear looking at you, "All I can think about is you" His voice sounded strained, Mancunian accent turning even thicker as his lips brushed against your neck. "Y-yeah?" You muttered, the tension of his hand wrapped around your neck causing your voice to strain in a way that made his dick jump in his pants. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Yeah"

One word. Breathed against your neck. Before he was flipping you. Thick hands tugged your pants down, spreading your ass crudely with one hand as the other slipped around your neck to hold your head up. "N-noel- what?" You tried to stammer out. But secretly, you could hardly believe your luck, months spent pushing him, teasing him in a way that wasn't obvious. But was clear enough to get him to break. "Shh- shush pet" He muttered, holding your head back so it strained, his forehead knocking down against the crown of your head. "I know darlin'" He breathed softly, trying to calm himself, forehead creasing as his brows furrowed, trying to stop himself form completely losing it. "I know" He sighed once more, hand spreading your ass now kneading into the plush flesh, swallowing, "D'ya want this?" He muttered, fingers brushing almost so close to your already throbbing wetness, stopping themself just close enough to hear it, "Tell me- g'on, use your words".

He felt your head try to raise even more, the room now thick with an almost palpable tension. He let up his grip on your chin, hands now slowly making their way to either side of your head, clenching them into the thick couch cushions as he swallowed. And he almost fully lost his breath at your expression. The slight lazy smirk you wore, the glint in your eyes despite the compromising position as you turned to look up into his. You bit your lip. Your eyes darted up and down his frame, eyes glinting with a kind of desperation he hadn't seen since his flings in the 90s.

"I say..." You whisper, leaning up even more so your bare ass brushed against his dick. You smiled even more as his steely blue eyes fluttered shut, jaw ticking with the obvious effort it took for him to just slam your head back down into the couch. You blinked, just once dragging out the obvious tension in the room, "I say... you've wanted this longer than you wanted to let on"

"Yeah" His voice was shaky, swallowing so thickly it almost caught in his throat, hand moving back to your ass, slipping around to tug you up so your knees rested on the couch, basically on all fours. And you let him. You wanted - no, you needed this. Just as much as him, clearly. "Your wife won't have ever made you feel as good as I can"

He let himself laugh at that, admittedly - his cheeks heated up slightly as he dropped his head between your shoulder blades, hands now sliding up from your ass to press you back down onto your front. He chuckled lazily, hands sliding down your torso in a way which raised goosebumps across the slightly exposed skin from where your shirt had rolled up, "Nasty fuckin' thing" He muttered, shuffling down the couch. Resting himself on his stomach, "Pretty" Is all he muttered as his thumbs pulled your plush cheeks apart, hot breath fanning across your already dripping centre, "Can tell you've wanted this" His voice was rough, harsh in a way that told he didn't feel like soft, but wanted to, just for now. Until he worked himself up to it.

His tongue made contact with your core. A sharp gasp escaping your lips as warm hands tugged you closer to his head, nose nudging against your entrance as his tongue snaked down to your clit. "God, you taste so fucking good pet" He muttered, hands gripping your thighs so tight they might leave bruises. He could hardly believe himself, just 20 minutes ago he was fretting about how his life was completely falling apart, now he was tasting your sweetness on his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut as he let himself immerse himself in you.

Decidedly, however, he couldn't stay calm for long. The soft skin of your thighs, the primal scent of you, the taste of your wetness set something completely different off in him, hands gripping your thighs pushing you up further, causing your back to arch crudely. "N-noel..." You whimpered into the couch, trying to turn to look at him. But one hand pushed your head back into the couch, overcome with the feel of your wetness dripping onto his tongue as he pushed it further into your core, revelling in the sound of your wetness. And you laughed. You fucking laughed - a sound that made his eyes snap open, pulling back from you - not even bothering to wipe the dripping slick on his slightly stubbled chin, "G'on" He muttered hoarsely, hand trailing up the back of your thigh to push two fingers into your core, a sharp huff of laughter blowing from his nose at the way your laughter stopped, "Said you gotta talk to me baby, need to hear ya"

You huffed in embarrassment as two thick fingers scissored you open, voice coming out all shaky as you pushed yourself up, "You gone senile, old man?" You teased. Noel's eyes narrowed, fingers pushing further into your cunt, pressing down hard against your g-spot to elicit a crude little whimper from you, "Fucks that means to mean?"

You grinned, pressing your lips together to prevent the hopeless whimpers from tumbling from your lips, pushing your hips back into his hand. Fucking yourself on his fingers. Noel felt like he was going absolutely insane.

"Means I think you can go harder"

"No wonder your wife wanted to leave, can't have been giving her dick good enough"

"You fucking little-" Noel cut himself off as his jaw clenched, tugging his fingers out of your hole as he grabbed you by the shoulders, picking you up with almost impossible strength to drag you across his lap, splayed in a way that should've embarrassed you but instead made you even wetter in a shameful dance. Neither of you quite knew what this way, but Noel knew he'd heard enough of you being a brat. his hand smoothed across your ass as you lay there helpless in his lap, free hand tugging your head up so he could meet your eyes, "Want you to fuckin' count" he muttered, thumb tugging on your lower lip so he could shove it to the back of your throat, chuckling as you tried not to gag, watching with a little coo as your eyes welled up in tears, "Think you can do that before you go all dumb on me?"

He smiled as you nodded, hardly able to do an anything else in the compromising position as you clenched around nothing. noel felt the tensing of your thighs, eyes sliding from yours to stare down at your plush ass hovering, practically begging for it to mark him up. his smirk turned crueler as his hand brushed against soft skin. Before

SLAP.

His hand made contact, a shark smacking sound echoing around the small studio, the sight a crude contrast to the soft space you'd built for your haunting little sirens songs - at least that's how it felt to Noel. the pull of you was impossible, he could hardly believe he had you here right now, all alone, spread out across his lap. " can't hear you, princess" He muttered, hand slapping against the skin of your ass once more, sending you forward with a slight yelp, voice muffled around his thumb plugging your mouth, "Two- that was two" You tried to sound stronger than you actually were right now, tried to pretend like him exerting his dominance over you wasn't exactly what you wanted for months.

He kept up at that for a while, repeated slaps of his hand against your ass, ruby ring on his pinky finger practically burning the hot flesh as his hand made contact again. And every single time, you were so responsive. So good for him, whimpering out your responses for just how many times he was abusing your poor ass. It was a far cry from the usually bubbly girl who'd greet him in the corridors, feeding perfectly into his sick fantasy of ruining you, ruining you until all you could think about was him.

He let a soft hum sound from the back of his throat, thumb pushing down harder on the back pf your tongue just to test how much you'd gag for him, a smile blooming across his aged features as the little sound slipped from your parted lips, "Good girl" he whispered, hand soothing against the red skin of your ass, tapping cruelly on the flushed skin just to hear you whine, smile deepening even further, "Y'like that, huh?" He whispered, slipping yet another finger into your mouth to tugbyoir mouth to the side, manhandling your face in just the way he wanted. Just to embarrass you further. God, he'd never wanted to ruin somebody like this in his life, "Like me callin' you that?"

His hands made their way to your middle, hearing the way you gasped now that full oxygen potential was returned to you. But that was short lived, of course it was. Your breath was stolen when Noel grabbed your waist, pulling you up so you were sat properly in his lap.

"Take me out then" He muttered, smiling up at the mess you'd already become, shifting yourself on his lap to not feel the sickly-sweet pain of his abuse of your ass, your perfectly applied makeup smudged by his hands and the tears which had sprung in your eyes from them pricking with tears at the stinging sensation of his hand. Yet still, you took it all like a champ, wiping the leftover drool from the corners of your lips as you shifted closer, rolling your bare core against his bulge as you smiled that horrifically sweet grin, "Take what out?" You leant closer to him so your lips brushed against his. You kissed him then, clearly distracting him from whatever he felt like doing as you reached one hand down to his lap, palming at him through his jeans. He let out a rough sigh, hips jerking up into yours to feel the friction of your hand pressing against his dick. But even that was short lived, as you pulled away, free hand swiping away the string of drool connecting you from the soft kiss, "daddy?"

Noel felt like he was going to be sick. An almost guttural groan escaped his lips as he knocked his forehead against yours, "Fuck, can't say shit like that" He whispered. You were brutal, not even five minutes ago you were choking on his fingers, whimpering like some helpless little thing as he used you in the way that he wanted. the shifting dynamics made his head spin, leaving a little nip against your jaw, he muttered, "Gonna let me fuck you now? Waited long enough haven't I?"

He lifted his head, those insanely blue eyes boring into yours as he gripped your jaw, shaking your head as he manhandled you, free Gand coming to the smalll of your back as he pushed you, causing you to lean back on his lap as the other moved from your jaw down to your cunt, calloused thumb brushing against your clit, "Gonna let daddy have you, huh baby?"

He smiled as you nodded. God you were impossible.

And Noel wasted no time.

He pushed you down, forcing you to scramble off his lap and lay splayed on the floor, staring up at him as he stood up, practically towering over you. Fuck.

The sharp clink of his belt rang through the air, he kept his eyes on you the entire time, pinning you where you sat splayed on the floor with just his gaze. Once the belt was undone, however, that was th end of your redundancy.

"Have at it then" He muttered, staring you down as he held his hands out in a crude gesture, "Let me fuck that pretty throat, eh?"

You couldn't help but smile uo at him, an action mirrored by an uncharacteristically soft smile spreading across his face as you knelt, ready to stand up to make your way to situate yourself between his legs. However, as you managed to get one foot up, his eyes stopped you. Narrowing in a way that showed absolute disapproval. You froze where you were, caught by his gaze as he tilted his head. You swallowed, the confidence slowly draining as you sat back on your haunches, a soft, "What?" Escaping your lips. Noel stared at you for just a moment more, shrugging, before taking himself out. Your eyes zeroed in immediately as he let his dick slap crudely against his stomach, hard and flushed as he wrapped his hand around the base. Never taking his eyes off you. "Oh" You said softly, suddenly tamed by the sight of him working his dick in his fist slowly, tense grunts escaping from his lips as he stood in front of the couch, "So pretty" You whispered, finally looking up to meet his eyes. He chuckled at the sight of your face, clearly needy for him. Gagging for it. Cute.

"C'mere then"

It was such a simple phrase, said so softly it almost gave you whiplash from the different ways in which he was speaking to you. The casual dominance in his tone, the way he'd started to slightly fuck up into his fist, never taking his eyes off yours. You tried to stand, but his hand stopped. He was frowning. "Ah, ah ah" He stopped you. You didn't say anything, just watched as he continued, gesturing to the floor with one hand. "Nobody said you could stand, pet"

You let out a quiet whimper. Fuck. Was he really going to make you crawl to him? Surely not even Noel Gallagher could stoop that low.

Clearly, he could however. He stood there, unmoving, hand now wrapped around his dick again as he pumped it so lewdly. He smiled softly at your face, tilting his head to the side like he expected something, free hand beckoning you towards him.

And so, with a laboured sigh, and a smile which served to convey fake confidence. You obeyed. Crawling towards him on your hands and knees, slow to give the impression of something sultry. Noel let out a shaky sigh at the sight, his own eyes fluttering shut like he couldn't bear ti even watch as his hand tightened around his dick, pumping it even harder at the crude sight.

Following the embarrassment, you eventually made your way over to him, resting your hands on the side of his knees, hands clenching in the thick denim of his jeans, resting your cheek against his knee as you waited for his instruction. Noel let his eyes flutter open, ticking his jaw once as he let his eyes meet yours one more time, smiling softly down at you.

"Hi" You muttered, catching your lip between your front teeth as you stared up at him. He chuckled at that, releasing his dick as he let his hand reach down to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against the height of your cheekbone. Just like you had done before, that felt so long ago, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his thumb. And then-

SLAP.

Another sharp tap, this time against your cheek, Noel chuckled above you, catching your chin where your face had turned away from the force of his hit, "Where are you going, eh?" He said, tone so mocking it was downright sinful, gripping your chin harder, bending at the waist so he was fully making eye contact with you, "Gonna suck me off now, pet? Gonna show me what you can really do?"

But all you could do was nod, sitting up dutifully on your haunches as you waited for him. Watching him. He looked like he didn't even want to continue, just for a moment, a flash of doubt casting over your face. In that brief, apparent lapse in his judgement, he bent further at the waist. His lips sealing your in a kiss almost too soft for the situation, lips lingering warm on yours for a moment. Before he pulled back. "Be a good girl, then" He muttered.

And he wasted no time.

He guided his dick to your lips, watching as you dutifully opened your mouth wide, eyes flickering to watch as he slowly pushed it in, the veins, warm on either side of his shaft, throbbed just once at the feeling of your mouth. So warm. So wet. Sara hadn't given him head in years, called him 'boring'. Said it wasn't exciting enough. Yet here you were, this pretty young thing with her lips wrapping eagerly around the tip of his dick. Noel almost couldn't believe his eyes, hand coming tp stroke your hair after he finished easing the tip into your mouth, calming you. Controlling you. "That's it sweetheart, you okay?" He muttered, warm Mancunian accent wrapping around the words in a way that was simple. All you could do was nod, furrowing your brows as you focused yourself pn taking more of him, looking uo into his eyes for some form of approval.

And Noel already looked completely wrecked. His brown hair, now flecked with salt and pepper, completely messy, face slightly flushed as he stared down at you like this was everything he ever wanted. And that was true, since the moment he'd set eyes on you, this was the moment he'd been dreaming of. So, he took control of it.

The first roll of his hips against your mouth was slow, almost sinful in its pace, as if he was testing the waters. A sharp sigh left Noel's lips at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him as he pulled back slightly, just to push his dick back into your mouth, watching almost hypnotised as you took him so well, thumb coming to collect the drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. He smirked, a sharp laugh escaping his lips, a sound entwined with a half moan as he looked down at you, tapping the corner of your mouth, "Big stretch now, love" He muttered.

And then he shoved his thumb in alongside his dick.

And from then on, Noel Gallagher was unstoppable.

With one sharp movement, he thrust his dick into the back of your throat, laughing as he hooked his thumb around your lips, pulling them wide open to see the way his dick hit the soft spot at the back of your throat. Both hands then curled around your face, tugging with his fingers wrapped around our jaw to pull you back. "Old bones, eh baby?" He chuckled, slightly breathless as he sat himself down against the couch. You adjusted, barely, as you fell forward against him, arms scrambling so your hands could find purchase on his thighs, his hands gripping your face, the thumb still tucked in your mouth alongside his cock. And then, the cruel way in which his hips immediately started up an unforgiving onslaught, fucking up into your mouth with reckless abandon.

Noel stayed quiet for a moment. Just enough so that he could hear the lewd squelching of his cock pistoning in and out of your mouth, "fucking pathetic" he muttered as you began to whimper around each gag, tears that had been pricking at your waterline now beginning to shed fully at the force of his dick hitting the back of your throat. You couldn't even think, couldn't even speak, just rendered to a hole for him to use as he pleased. Months had led up to this pointe very teasing glance in the corridors, every time he fucked his wife pretending it was you. All of that tension leading up to now - Noel Gallagher laying back against the couch in your studio like he owned it, like he was the king, just using you however he wanted.

"Know you wanted this bad" He all but growled as he gripped your face harder, fucking your skull at such a pace it made you dizzy, a moan which sounded like a half whine slipping from his lips as he lifted his hips once more, fucking into your face, "Sitting in here all pretty, knowing i'm just next door"

You've never heard him sound so frustrated, never knew he could even sound like this. Everything was going too fast yet all too slow at the same time unable yo do anything except let him continue his verbal onslaught, his balls hitting heavy against your chin with each thrust of his hips, his dick throbbing almost wildly as he continued, "Y'were mine since the first secon-" he cut himself off with a guttural moan, gripping your face harder as he continued to slap his hips into your face, "Even though you knew I had a missus - I heard fucking everything you little devil, all those pathetic little lads you brought back" He chuckled slightly, catching himself with another breathy little moan as yo let out a desperate whine, trying to do anything which would bring him closer to the edge, too give you exactly what you wanted, "Bet they didn't fuck you like this"

Noel was quickly loosing it, letting out a loud, guttural "Fuck" As he pulled his hips back fully, grabbing you by the forearms, not even giving you time to adjust before he'd dragged you onto the couch with him, moving impossibly fast as he adjusted himself behind you. And then he slammed his hips into yours. He laughed at your bewildered expression, one hand pushing your head down into the cushions once again, the other catching both your hands to pin them behind your back as he immediately started thrusting into you without warning, "Aww, s'it too big for you baby?"

The hand pushing your head down gripped your hair, tugging, harsh. You whined at the force of it, the pain, the pace, how quickly he was moving and forcing you into all these new positions making you dizzy. But not too dizzy to bite back.

"F- Can't fucking feel it"

The hand in your hair tightened. You could practically feel the way his jaw clenched he ragged your head up, leaning his big body over yours to mutter, "Fuckin' bitch"

He slammed your head back down into the cushions, holding you there. His hips seemed to speed up, if that was even possible anymore, now long, sharp thrusts designed to completely incapacitate you, holding you down so he could fuck you how he pleased. "Where's my nice girl gone then?" He spat from above you, hiking your hips up so he could hit even deeper inside of you, every pass of his hips hitting against that spongey spot inside of you. It was almost too much at this point, held down by the absolute force of him, each drive of his hips pushing you even further into the couch, "N-Noel" That's all you could say.

And he was having none of it.

"Shh-shh, pet" he muttered, hips slowing slightly again, "Y'gonna beg?" He asked, too sweet for the way his hips began to speed up once again, "Gotta say it right next time". His hand reaches round again to grab your jaw, turning your head so its strained so you can meet his eyes, watching with bleary gaze as he nods down at you, "What do you have to say to m then?"

"Th-thankyou, daddy" He grinned at that, letting out a soft little coo as he leaned down to press his lips against yours, hips speeding up even more so, lewd slapping sounds resounding around the small studio space, hand gripping your hip to tilt it so he can dig even deeper within your warmth, "There she is" he mutters against your mouth, "Y'gonna cum baby?"

All you can do now is nod, pathetic, unstoppable whimpers drooling from your lips as you try your hardest to keep them locked to his, "What's that sweetheart?" He groans against your mouth.

"Y-yed daddy"

That's all it takes, Noel locks his mouth to yours once again, hand leaving your hips to reach around to circle your clit in a rapid frenzy, "G'na come inside, okay darlin'?" He asks, mouth hot on yours as his dick throbs hard inside of you, signifying he's close to, "We'lll do it together, okay?" He smiles as you nods, speaking for you, "Think y'mean 'yes daddy'"

And that, combined with the harsh grip on your chin, and the sharp snap of his hips into yours finally pushes you over the edge, hips shaking as your walls squeeze around him, wetness dripping down onto the couch. He groans at the feeling of you soaking both his dick and his hand, pressing harshly with two fingers against your clit as he finally spills himself inside of you with a moan that sounds all too much like his own desperate whimper, pushing his lips even harder against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut, "Fuh-fuck, soaking me- fuckin' soaking me darlin'" He moans against your mouth, looking down to see where you're joined, "Feel that? Feel me fucking your belly full of my cum?"

You hardly even have a second to register as he's already flipping you around, hands sliding down your torso as he pull out with a harsh huff of a sigh. Already sliding further down the couch so he can rest facing your core.

And as he begins to clean you up with his tongue. your hands dazily making their way ti grip at his shaggy hair, you can hardly focus on it. There's a quiet buzzing behind you. Somewhere in the daze you find it in yourself to reach back with one hand, finding the source of the noise.

A little black rectangle.

You bring it to your face, a smile crossing your lips as you register the buzzing. Text messages.

Contact - Sara: Hi Noel, I know you ended things, but I can't stop thinking about us

Contact - Sara: If you're not busy, I'd like to talk?

You don't know when, but somewhere along the way you'd learned his password. Through a brief whimper as his soft tongue brushed against your overstimulated clit, you were able to unlock the phone.

Noel: he's busy xx

And unbeknownst to Noel, his ex wife has just received a very shaky, blurry, but unmistakeable picture. Her ex husband between the thighs of the woman she'd been told countless times during the later years of their relationship to never worry about

tag list: @blogbustersii @anjalfc @gxnyadavid @simoneeyy @soerikacanwait @number1princessdianafan @bugbugboy @veruschkaaaa @oasisyearner @beherenowl @lipglossandcigarettes6 @dykwimean @oasisswag @strwbryluver @sonnyangel11 @invinsabel @alicehighflyingbirds @damonalboner @ddirtyshirtt @hernamewasavaline @gallagherish99 @zo-05 @galicantwait @thebestmole @charmlessgrrl @noelsgreystreak @thebestmole @wtsthstrymrnglry

the backstage buzz is not something you’re ever sure you could get used to. roadies and guitar techs speed around yelling at people to do their jobs, randoms stuff their face with the catering and free drinks lying around, but one thing always remains constant.. and tonight, its your doting boyfriend noel’s arms wrapped around your torso.

“you’re in your head” his low voice mutters into your shoulder

“just watching” you turn your head a bit to catch his eyes, knowing that michevious glint. “what’re you plotting” you mutter to him, brows quirking.

noel just smirks shrugging, shaking his head, lifting his nearly forgotten cigarettes to his lips, blowing it into your face

“prick” you grit out, with no real heat behind it, leaning some more of your weight back against him in retaliation, pushing him harder into the wall supporting you both.

noel groans a bit but smirks “jokes on you, i liked that”

you roll your eyes making him tuck his head back into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, breathing you in.

“what’re you after?” your voice is low, only for him to hear, while your eyes remain on the small crowd in the dressing room of the venue.

“how’d you know i’m after something? am i that easy?” noel pulls back dramatically gasping. “yes” you laugh out, giggling when he leans back in. “you do know you have a show in 15 minutes right?” noel just glances up into your eyes.. “don’t remind me… gotta keep rkid in line….” a kiss to your shoulder.. “write all these fucking sensational songs”.. another to your neck “play to thousands of people a night” his lips finally land on your ear..

“and m’gonna finger my missus now” he mutters low into your ear kissing it with finality.

your eyes widen as you try to loosen his hold around you to scold him, your in public for christs sake, but before you can even react, he’s pulling your hand and leading you through the backstage corridors.

“noel! what the fuck are we doing!” your voice tries to come out stern, but you can’t hide your love for how needy he is for you.

after he doesn’t reply, focused on his route, hand still holding yours in a death grip, you try again.

“noel! you have to go on stage soon!” and still, he trudges forward, till he finally pushes open a black door at the end of a hallway, pulling you in after him.

your eyes are met with complete darkness, ears just picking up the click of a door closing.. and then locking.

“noel gallagher i swear to god if this is some sick prank i’ll-“ a pair of lips smash into yours, silencing you before you can even finish your threat.

instinctively your hands find his hair, moaning softly.

“told you” he mutters against his lips “wanna feel you” his lips move down your jaw and neck as one hand holds your waist against the wall in a death grip, while the other slowly drifts down your dress, stopping when they find the hem. your eyes try to find his in the dark but are only able to feel everything he’s doing to you.

“noel.. they’re.. they’re gonna come looking for you” you whine as his hand starts to push up you dress…. lips hanging open against your cheek as he pants.

“and do what?” he pauses, a whiny breath coming out as he finds your wearing nothing at all below your dress, he tsks at you “naughty fuckin’ girl”.. you can’t see him, but you can feel his smirk against your lips. your rebuttal falls into nothing but a moan though when the calloused pads of his fingers find your center with practiced precision..

“jesus… how long have you been soaked baby?” noel whispers into ear.. but you can’t even reply, knees nearly buckling as his fingers go back and forth from rubbing your clit to teasing your entrance, already trying to suck him in.

“can’t say anything now huh? not so worried anymore about me having to go out and plat guitar for ten thousand screaming fucks..” he pauses as he slides a finger inside, your walls immediately clenching around his digit. “fuck- how fast you think i can get you off… wanna time me?” he breathes into your mouth, kissing you deep, your tongues melding messily together.

“noel… fuck baby please” your whine goes straight to his head and ego, making him chuckle.. his forehead pressed against yours.

“think i can do it in a minute? have you squirting all over my fingers in the bloody bathroom?” he adds a second finger, stretching inside you with a slick and dirty sound..”gotta add taking care of my needy girl to my pre-show rituals too now yeah?” his breath is hot against your ear.. your whines coming out continuously as your brain turns into mush, knowing nothing but noel and how good his fingers feel.

your hips begin to lift off the wall, trying to shove his fingers even deeper as he finds the gooey spot inside you.. “noel” you gasp, just as someone begins to call his name from down the hall. “ey! noel! where the fuck are you?! it’s 5 minutes till the show!” the voices echoes, but you don’t even register.

noels free hand releases your waist and comes up to cover your mouth, his own finding your ear again. “you gotta come for me yeah? need to feel you fall apart before they blast the door down” you nod, eyes fluttering shut. his fingers alternate now from pushing into you and rubbing your clit heavy and fast.

“feel so good.. so warm” he breathes out “makes me wanna fuck you right here..” you whine into his hand, wanting it just as bad, making him chuckle.

“yeah.. fingers not even enough for you now? need my cock too to stretch you out.. guess’ve spoiled you baby” he kisses your ear, nipping it gently.

you moan against his hand.. eyes blinking open to adjust and find his through the dark.. “y’close?” noel nods when you do.. “good girl.. c’mon.. know you can do it.. know you can come for me… let go.. i got you”

with a few more praises and kisses to your ear, your eyes squeeze shut, thighs locking together over noels wrist as you come.. squealing into his hand. after a moment, noel removes his hand off of your mouth.. swallowing your pants with a sweet kiss, total 180 from your sloppy kisses moments before.

you hear the voice of some roadie calling for noel again now “c’mon mate its 3 minutes to go now!” the voice comes through the hallway into the bathroom loud… and noel slowly pulls away from you

“gotta go play now” he says swinging your hands still binded together “see you after the show?” he asks with a knowing smile before he lets them go.. slowly opening the door.. and just as its about to close behind him, his head pops back in..

Manchester 1986.

By nineteen, your life looked nothing like you imagined it would be at fifteen. Not better, not worse. Just different. The days felt shorter now, swallowed whole by responsibilities that once seemed impossibly far away when you were younger. There was work, church, errands for your parents, and the constant feeling that adulthood had arrived without bothering to ask whether you were ready for it.

You didn't spend your afternoons staring out of windows anymore. You didn't keep track of who walked past your street. And you certainly didn't think about Noel Gallagher every time someone mentioned his name. At least, that's what you told yourself. The lie had become easier with practice. But the truth now seemed scarier.

At fifteen, it had been easy to dismiss it. Just a silly crush, something to talk about with your girlfriends during a sleepover; the sort of thing girls eventually grew out of. But nineteen felt far too old for that excuse.

Four years had passed, and somehow Noel Gallagher still found a way into your thoughts. You knew exactly who he was, or at least you knew what people said about him. You'd heard the stories, the fights, the trouble. You'd seen the disapproval written across the faces of every adult who mentioned his name. None of it should have mattered. Yet whenever you spotted him across the street, something inside you still shifted, and that frightened you more than you'd ever cared to admit. And the question now wasn't what kind of boy he was, the question now was what kind of woman you were by being attracted to someone like him.

Your dating record wasn't too impressive. Over the years, your mother introduced you to countless boys from church. They were always the same sort: soft eyes, neat hair, good manners. The kind of boy who helped carry chairs after mass and remembered to shake your father's hand before leaving.

On paper, they were exactly what you were supposed to want. And you tried, you really did. You went on walks, accepted invitations for tea, and sat through awkward conversations about work, family and future plans. They were kind and respectable; perfectly decent boys. But it wasn't enough. Because none of them made your stomach twist with just a look. None of them excited you in the way they were supposed to. They lacked something, you just couldn't understand what.

For a long time, you assumed there was something wrong with you. Your mother said you were too picky. Your friends said you were too romantic. Maybe the problem was that life wasn't meant to feel the way novels and songs insisted it should, maybe affection was supposed to grow slowly, quietly, without the dramatic rush you secretly longed for. That explanation would have satisfied you and it would have been much easier. Except every now and then, you would catch sight of Noel Gallagher somewhere in the neighbourhood. And suddenly, all those carefully constructed explanations stopped making sense.

Things became easier after you left school. Or at least, busier. Your parents couldn't afford to send you to university, so while some of your classmates left for new cities and new lives, you stayed in Manchester. You found a job at a small record shop not far from the city centre. You didn't mind; in fact, you loved it. Music had always felt like a refuge, a place to disappear when your thoughts became too loud. There was something comforting about spending your days surrounded by records, helping customers, and listening to songs that seemed to understand feelings you could never quite put into words yourself.

And just like that, your life settled into a familiar rhythm. You still helped your father at church whenever he needed you, you still attended mass every sunday and you still spent evenings with your friends whenever everyone's schedules allowed it. Slowly, life began to feel more manageable. The questions that had once kept you awake at night seemed quieter now, not entirely gone, but at least easy to ignore.

♡~~~

It was a hot summer afternoon and you were hanging out at your friend Lucy's house. The Smiths had just released their new album "the queen is dead" and she invited you to listen to it at hers. Sitting on the floor of her living room, looking out the window, you could see the Gallagher's house. They lived right in front of Lucy's. Your back was against the sofa where Lucy was lying down and "I know it's over" was slowly playing in the background.

"I like this song", said Lucy, eyes closed focusing on the music.

"Mhm", You said, glancing unconsciously at the house across the street. It seemed like nobody was home. Lucy kept talking about the song. Something about the melody and how the lyrics were too sad.

"Well, it's The Smiths innit?"You said, still not looking at her.

"We need to cheer up a bit". Lucy sat up suddenly. "I heard about this club called 'The Hacienda'"

"Isn't that the place where everyone goes to get off their heads?" You asked not really interested. Your attention was still somewhere else.

"Oh for god's sake, y/n" she grabbed your shoulders and shook them lightly. "Lighten up."

You laughed despite yourself. "I'm serious."

"So am I. We're nineteen. We didn't go off to uni, we're stuck here, and this place is bloody boring."

She got up and walked over to the record player, lifting the needle before the song had even finished.

"Oi! I was listening to that" you said, ignoring her big discourse.

She rolled her eyes at that. "You were looking at the window."

You looked away immediately. Unfortunately, Lucy noticed. She followed your gaze towards the house across the street. Then she looked back at you. A slow grin spread across her face.

"Oh."

"Oh, what?"

"Nothing."

"Lucy."

"I just heard Noel Gallagher spends a lot of time at the hacienda, that's all." She said, pretending innocence.

You scoffed. "Right. And?"

"Oh, nothing." She shrugged innocently. "Just thought you might like to know."

"I couldn't care less."

"Course you couldn't."

"I mean it."

"Y/n, you've been looking at his house for the last ten minutes."

"I have not."

"You absolutely were."

"I was just looking outside."

"Mm."

"I'm serious."

"Whatever you say."

She went to the kitchen with the excuse of making tea while you just sat there alone with your thoughts. You hated when Lucy did that, not because she was wrong, quite the opposite actually. The worst thing about Lucy was that she had an irritating habit of noticing things you'd rather keep to yourself.

The hacienda had never sounded particularly appealing. A crowded club full of strangers, loud music, cheap drinks and people making questionable decisions. It was exactly the sort of place your parents would disapprove of. Exactly the sort of place you'd spent most of your life avoiding, but you couldn't help your stomach tightened the moment she mentioned him, and somehow, the idea had planted itself firmly inside your brain. You could pretend you weren't interested, that the possibility meant nothing. But for the rest of the afternoon, every time Lucy mentioned the hacienda, a small part of you found itself wondering the same thing: What if he was there?

So by the time you were getting ready to leave, standing in the doorway, you found yourself glancing across the street one last time. The Gallagher house looked exactly as it always did. Quiet and ordinary. Except that this time, a warm light glowed from one of the upstairs windows. And you didn't know why, but before you could stop yourself, you turned back to Lucy.

"So…" You said, trying your best to sound casual. "When's this hacienda thing?"

♡~~~

That's how you ended up at Lucy's house again. But this time, it wasn't just to spend the night listening to sad music and sharing whatever liquor she'd stolen from her father's cabinet. This time you two were getting ready to go out. Lucy had lent you one of her dresses; it was black with delicate lace, long sleeves and it reached mid-thigh. It was a cold night despite being mid-june, so you paired it with black fishnet stockings and your worn-out boots. Lucy had said you looked like some bird from the 60s. "Like, in a fit way." You just laughed at that.

The truth was, you felt pretty. Really pretty, in fact. Maybe even a bit sexy too, though you would never admit it out loud. Standing in front of the mirror in Lucy's bathroom, carefully applying red lipstick, you started to think that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Everything was going to be fine. You two were going to arrive, have some drinks, dance a bit, and leave before two. That was the plan.

Your parents didn't really know where you were going. You'd left the house at seven, telling them you were staying at Lucy's and wouldn't be back until the following morning. Just a normal sleepover, like the ones you'd had since you were children. They'd believed every word of it, and you tried not to feel guilty. There would be time for that later.

"Oh, girls just wanna have fun!" Lucy appeared singing, pushing the bathroom door without bothering to knock. She handed you a small bottle of some cheap liquor you two had bought from the off-licence.

"Rude! Didn't your parents ever teach you to knock" you laugh, taking the bottle. You took a sip. "Ugh, it tastes awful."

"That's because it hadn't kicked in yet." She said, examining her reflection in the mirror.

Still recovering from the burn of the alcohol, you headed back into Lucy's room. You checked your bag to make sure you had everything. Money, lipstick, keys.

"You should take this too," Lucy said, tossing something into your bag.

You picked it up and nearly choked when you realised what it was. A rubber.

"You're mental!" you laugh, throwing it back at her.

"Oh, come off it. You never know." She caught it easily and slipped it into the pockets of her jacket. That's when you noticed it, the look on her face. You'd known Lucy long enough to recognise it immediately. She was hiding something.

"What is it."

"What is what?"

"Just spit it out Lucy."

She tried to surprise a smile and failed miserably.

"Fine. I might've invited a few friends."

Your stomach dropped. "What do you mean, a few friends?"

Lucy immediately noticed the panic on your face.

"They're people from work," she said quickly. "They're nice, I promise. And they've been to the hacienda before, so at least one of us knows what we're doing."

"I don't know Lucy…" you looked away, suddenly wishing you were back home.

"Hey." She stepped closer and grabbed your arms. "Look at me."

You did.

"We stick to the plan, alright?"

You nodded.

"We go, we have a drink, we dance, and if you're not having a good time, we leave."

You studied her face for a moment. "Promise?"

Lucy 's expression softened. "I promise."

♡~~~

The bus was empty and silent at this hour of the night. Your laughter and Lucy's filled the air inside, both of you excited about what the night would bring. After the motivational speech your friend had given you earlier, you'd regained some of your confidence, or maybe the liquor had finally kicked in. Whatever it was, you were determined to enjoy yourself, just for one night. Not thinking about what could go wrong, no thinking about your parents, no thinking about responsibilities. Or about him. Because, realistically, what were the chances of Noel Gallagher being there? And even if he was, it wasn't as though you were going to speak to him.

"The place will be packed," Lucy said as the bus rattled through the city, turning around the corner where the building was. The bus had been running late, which meant you were both a bit behind schedule.

"How are we even getting in?" You asked. "Isn't there some sort of guest list?" You glanced out the window, a queue had already started forming outside.

"My friends know someone," Lucy replied casually. "We'll be fine."

She grabbed your arms as the bus began to slow. "C'mon. This is us."

As soon as you stepped off the bus, a cold gust of wind hit your face. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as Lucy linked her arm through yours and steered you towards the club. The closer you got, the louder the music became. You could feel the bass vibrating through the pavement beneath your feet. The building looked enormous. You'd passed it plenty of times during the day, but somehow the lights, the noise, and the crowds transformed it into something else entirely. Something bigger and intimidating.

For a brief moment, you considered turning around. Then Lucy spotted her Friends. "Oh, there they are!", And before you could protest, she was already dragging you towards them.

There were four of them. Three boys and a girl, all standing together near the entrance. Lucy greeted them as if they'd known each other for years, immediately pulling one of the boys into a hug. You lingered a step behind, smiling politely, suddenly very interested in the pavement beneath your feet.

"She's my best mate, y/n!" Lucy announced proudly. Every pair of eyes turned towards you.

You lifted your gaze towards the group again. "Hi," you managed.

"Hi," the girl replied with a smile. "I'm Sarah."

The others introduced themselves one by one, they looked completely at ease, like they'd somehow belonged here. Their bodies moved lightly at the music that vibrated from inside the building, talking about some dj they were looking forward to hearing tonight. To your relief, they welcomed you into the conversation as if it were the most natural thing in the world. That had helped to ease some of the tension in your chest.

"Noel should be here already," Sarah said casually. "He'll let us into the club." The words immediately made your stomach tighten. You immediately looked at Lucy, who was already looking at you.

Just there, one of the boys glanced over your shoulder. "There he is." You turned before you could stop yourself, mentally cursing yourself for it. Noel was making his way towards the group with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. For a ridiculous second, you forgot how to breathe. He looked taller up close, somehow sharper and more certain of himself.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Took your time"

"You just arrived very early," he said, completely unapologetic. His voice was different than you'd imagined, low and rough around the edges but not too deep. He greeted Sarah and the boys, just then his gaze drifted to you and Lucy.

"These are the girls I told you about," Sarah said. She pointed to Lucy first. "This is Lucy, we work together." Lucy gave him a quick wave.

"And this is y/n."

For a second, you forgot every single word in the english language. Noel glanced at you, your face seemed familiar, though he didn't know why. "Alright?" His hands briefly appeared from his pocket and you shook it, his grip was warm despite the cold.

"Hi." Your voice came out softer than you'd liked it, and he found himself smiling at you.

"Nice t'meet you," he simply said. Then, just like that, he shifted his attention back to the group again. "Right, are we standing about all night or what?Let's get inside." That was all it took for the group to cheer up. One of the boys clinged to Noel's shoulder and they started to walk towards the entrance.

You followed the group, or at least your body did. Your brain seemed to have remained somewhere back on the pavement, trapped in the moment when you got to see him again, four years after that summer. His eyes were still the same, blue and impossibly clear. You were so distracted that you nearly walked straight into the person in front of you.

"Oi," Lucy grabbed your arm. You looked at her, she was trying- and failing- not to laugh. "Will you relax? You're walking like you're being led to your execution."

"I'm not," you answered, though your mind was still somewhere else. You glanced towards Noel's back a few metres ahead, then immediately looked away.

Lucy's grin widened. "Oh my god."

"Stop," your eyes widened in warning her to shut up.

"You still fancy him that much?" She said, voice lower this time.

"Lucy, please stop talking."

She laughed and linked her arm through yours, reaching for the group again.

"He's just a bloke, y/n. Relax okay"

You just nodded. "Yeah, you're right." And for the first time, you almost believed it.

Once you got inside, the first thing you noticed was the noise, the music seemed to vibrate through your ribs as the group made their way towards the bar. The further you got into the place, the more the heat produced by the number of people inside enveloped you, and to your surprise, you were enjoying it.

"What are you having?" one of the boys asked. You thought his name was Mark, or maybe Matt, you'd already forgotten.

"What?"

He laughed. "To drink."

"Oh," you looked at the menu board behind the bar as if it might magically provide an answer. "Whatever's cheapest." That earned a few laughs, your cheeks turned a bit red.

"Fair enough," he said. "I'll get it."

By the time he returned with your drink, you found yourself relaxing. The group was easy to talk to, and the music was good, loud enough to quiet the thoughts in your head. Nobody seemed interested in making you feel out of place, and for once, you thought that maybe you could belong here. At least for one night. You found yourself trapped in a conversation with Sarah about New Order, she was impressed that you knew that much about music. "I just thought you were a different kind of girl" she said, but the drink had already started to kick in so you just laughed at her comment.

That was when the feeling hit you, like a strange awareness. The unmistakable sensation that someone was looking at you, at first you ignored it, then it happened again. Your eyes drifted across the group and landed on Noel. He wasn't staring, at least, not anymore. The moment you looked over, he glanced away and took a sip of his drink, as though he'd been looking somewhere else entirely. You frowned slightly; maybe you'd imagined it, that had to be. Yet a few moments later, while everyone else was talking, you caught him doing it again. A brief glance, gone almost immediately. Just long enough to make you shiver.

He seemed to know half the people in the building. Every few minutes, someone stopped to say hello to him. It was strange, for years you'd only ever seen him from a distance. Now he was suddenly everywhere. Laughing, talking, moving through the crowds as though he belonged there, and perhaps he did.

The words of Lucy came back to you. "He's just a bloke." She was right, you thought, it was nothing. He was probably looking at Sarah, they seemed to get along really well. She was cool, more natural than you, she carried herself with a confidence that you'd never had: a pretty girl who knew it. So you'd decided to forget it, move on for the night, enjoy yourself. Just like you'd said you would.

The night kept moving. At some point, you'd stopped keeping track of how many drinks you'd had. Not enough to get wasted yet, you knew your limits. The right amount to feel lighter. The dance floor was crowded, Lucy and Sarah had dragged you in and you found yourself dancing and laughing with them. After some minutes, you decided to take a break. You were turning around with your drink in your hand when you walked straight into someone.

The liquid sloshed over the rim of the glass. "Oh, shit." A dark stain spread across the sleeve of a familiar jacket. For a moment, you considered dying on the spot.

Noel looked down at the damage, then back at you.

"Sorry," you blurted out, "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," he glanced at the sleeve, "Could've been worse."

You just stared. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?" He asked.

"I thought you'd be angrier." You admitted, a mix of embarrassment and shock on your chest.

"Don't fret. It's only lager." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed despite yourself, and just like that, some of the tension disappeared. Noel sensed this, and couldn't help but ask the question that had been turning over in his head since the moment he saw you. "Have we met before?"

His head was tilted and you thought it was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. You took a moment to answer, and he suddenly felt a bit stupid for asking. "Sorry, it's just- you look familiar."

The music pulsed around you. For a moment, all you could hear was your own pulse. "We went to the same school," you said. "That's probably it."

He just nodded slowly. "Maybe." Yet something in his expression suggested he wasn't entirely convinced.

Before he could say something else, someone shouted his name from the other side of the room, he excused himself and left you there. You stared at his back for a minute as he made his way across the crowds. Lucy grabbed your arm, "Let's dance," she slurted in a voice that suggested she was on the verge of having enough. You laughed at her state and let her pulled you into the dance floor once again.

♡~~~

The time passed like that, dancing and drinking and having heated discussions over music. Noel lingered, close but not too much. You'd exchanged a few glances now and then, but nothing more. By the time the party ended, Lucy was off her head and leaning against you like her life depended on it. You stepped outside and were received by the cold breeze. The night had somehow become even colder, or maybe it was the contrast with the heat inside the club. The group started to discuss who was leaving with who. No one had a car and the buses didn't work at this time; you and Lucy lived on the opposite side of the rest of the guys, so you'd had to manage alone with your best friend who couldn't even walk straight.

"You weigh a ton," you muttered.

"I love you too," Lucy slurred, very happy with the situation. You just sigh, this was going to be a long walk.

The group said their goodbyes and everyone went their separate ways. Noel hadn't come out with you all; he'd gotten lost in the crowds sometime during the night. "Typical Noel," one of the guys had said. Anyways, it's not like you cared. You had a bigger problem now: figuring out how to carry your friend for at least ten blocks to her house. You stood in the corner, Lucy hanging from your side, and tried to accommodate her in a way that was comfortable enough for you to walk.

"You alright there?" A man's voice asked. You were ready to slur something to tell him to piss off, but when you turned around you saw him. Noel. Cool as always, already walking towards you two, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Fine," you said. At that exact moment, Lucy nearly fell over, and you immediately became aware of how ridiculous the situation looked. Lucy barely conscious, one of her shoes untied, and you were struggling to keep both of you upright.

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Right."

Without saying anything else, he grabbed one of Lucy's arms and put it around his shoulders, so that you and he were carrying her at the same time, making it easier to distribute the weight. You just stared at him, impressed by the decision of his actions.

"Where d'you live then?" he asked. You told him Lucy's address, still a bit startled.

He nodded. "I live on the same street." And just when you opened your mouth to politely refuse, Lucy decided to open her big mouth. "Yesssss you could walk us hommmeee."

You looked at her with big eyes, but before you could protest you heard Noel's laugh. "C'mon then. I'll give you a hand."

Just like that, the three of you started walking down the street. The conversation flowed surprisingly easy between you and Noel. You talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You told him you worked at a record shop near the city centre; he'd told you that his dad sometimes made him work on construction sites. According to him, it was the closest thing to torture known to man. You'd told him that sometimes, you helped your father at church. "Church? And you actually enjoy it?" He asked surprised. Now and then you two were interrupted by Lucy making some nonsensical comments, or tripping in her feet.

Eventually, you'd get to Lucy's house. "Well, this is us." You'd said.

"Oh… you're sorted then?" He asked, for a second, you'd caught a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. "You don't need to walk home then?"

"Um.. no, I'll crash here tonight."

"Alright then," he let go of Lucy's arm and carefully helped you to hold her. You grabbed her bag looking for her keys. Once the door was open, Lucy magically seemed to remember how to walk and head inside. "Byeeee Nowlllll, pleasure to meet uuuu." She slurred out the words as she tried to take her shoes off.

Noel just laughed at that and looked at you. "It was nice meeting you, y/n."

You thanked god that it was still dark outside, and begged that the lights of the streets weren't bright enough to let him notice your flushed cheeks. "Nice meeting you too, Noel." He waved goodbye and crossed the street, not looking back.

Just then, you heard Lucy fighting with her shoes. "Alright there?" You asked amused.

"It's your prince gone already?" She said mockingly.

Your face changed from funny to serious. "Shut up Lucy."

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★ 2000.

noel never struggled with confidence. people would often call him an arrogant bastard about it, but they never denied how good he was. because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? how good he is. that’s what pays for the house in ibiza. that’s what pays for the drinks. that’s what pays for the girlfriend’s jewelry.

and he always thought it was sweet how you made sure he knew that from you, even though the world would constantly remind him of that.

god, he relishes on your attention. fucking gets off on it. he considers it not hard to, because you’re just so eager for him – cuddling him on the bed or the sofa while kissing his cheeks and his neck and saying how much you love your amazing boyfriend.

your praise hits different because noel thought you were different. he’d even do so much as agree with the journalists in the shitty magazines, the ones that often pointed out how you seemed too good or too pure for the usual chaos him and liam usually dragged around.

he loves how you call him baby and look up at him with those sweet eyes every time he buys you something ridiculously expensive.

he loves how you adore every side of him. not just the one everyone else sees, the noel gallagher from oasis. he knows you love the noelly from manchester equally as much, the one that learned from his mum how to make the perfect tea and does so every time you have a sore throat.

he loves how lads look at you and pull their gazes away once they realize who’s the one standing behind you.

mostly, he loves how he gets to be the one to wreck your sweet girl image in the prettiest way. he loves to hear you begging for it, loves to hear your pretty moans that are just as loud as the sounds of his cock merciless fucking your pretty cunt – his pretty cunt.

he loves his pretty girl.

he loves the fact you love being his just as much. maybe a bit too much. because today, it got under his skin.

this time, he’s been drinking since noon and so have you. he’s meant to be getting ready, meant to care about the reading festival set in an hour – but he doesn’t.

because some industry wanker is chatting your ear off while noel is emerged in another group’s conversation. and he knows it doesn’t really mean anything. not even when you were drunk and giggly and being your sweet self.

still, he simply mutters something to security without even glancing over at you and disappears backstage.

when he walks into the door, he’s already reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket’s pocket, silently telling some of the festival’s crew members to fuck off either a simple tilt of his head. they do in a heartbeat, of course.

the moment he lights it and drags the smoke in, he can hear your voice already approaching. he makes it out as a polite little “oops. sorry” as you nearly bump into the roadies that are wise enough to leave the dressing room as soon as possible.

you walk in the door with a big smile, nearly tripping to the side as you close the door. “hi baby…” you say sweetly.

the corner of his lips curl up slightly at it, he can’t help it. “there she is,” he says, the smoke coming out as he does.

you bite your bottom lip, walking closer and immediately wrapping your arms around his waist as you tip your chin closer to his face, searching for a kiss. “hii…”

he breathes out a little chuckle against your lips, shaking his head. “hi.”

“hiiii…” you repeat, already giving him another kiss.

his free hand slides down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he gives you a final peck before jerking his chin toward the couch. “sit.”

you don’t argue, just sway a little where you stand, smiling soft and sweet like you always do before you walk towards the sofa. you didn’t notice the shift in him the second you walked in, the way his eyes dragged over you in that possessive way.

your dress rides up just a bit when you sit, fabric bunching at your thighs. you don’t fix it, just look at him until he’s standing right in front of you – looking down at you as he takes another drag of his cigarette. he’s close enough that your knees brush his legs. then, he reaches his hand down, fingers grazing your jaw, tilting your face up toward his.

“having fun?” he asks, casual, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“yeah…” you murmur, eyes flicking over the details of his face.

“yeah?” he shoots back unhurriedly, sliding his thumb until it’s brushing over your bottom lip.

you nod, softer. “miss you, though…” you say sweetly, slowly kissing the pad of his thumb as you look up at him. your hands come up, sliding over the front of his thighs until they’re closer to his crotch just so slide them back down again.

his fingers slide into your hair, grip tightening to pull your head back and getting a small moan out of you at the sudden firmness. “do you, now…”

you swallow, blinking at him and attempting to nod even though his fist in your hair makes it a little harder.

he hums, taking another drag of his cigarette as he bends down just so his face is closer to yours. your lips part involuntarily, your tongue nearly darting out in expectation of a kiss.

he just exhales the smoke out, right over your mouth – completely unbothered that you’re pinching your brows together at the strong fume or at the small whimper you let out, just because he’s so close and yet so far.

“looked like you were havin’ so much fun with that one bloke, though,” he says against your mouth, voice lower now.

your brows furrow softly as a plea. “baby…” you start, a little breathy, a little unsure.

he cuts you off by only then kissing you. he closes the distance with a groan, and the way his tongue claims you isn’t gentle or careful, not this time. it’s messy and greedy, like he’s got something to prove.

you moan into it, already arching into his touch only to be restrained by his hand tightening in your hair.

he pulls you away just enough to whisper against your lips, “you forget who you’re with, or what, hm?”

you blink up at him, eyes darting down to his lips slick with yours and his spit. your eyes are a little dazed now, “was just being nice…”

he huffed out a breath, straightening his back and shaking his head once, sliding his hand back to your cheek and stroking it firmly as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“‘jus’ being nice’…” he repeats, mocking and amused at the same time. “fucking hell…”

you lean into his touch, furrowing your brows and blinking as you look up. his hand slides down to the side of your neck, “were you, yeah?”

you whimper softly, watching him hold the cigarette between his lips so his busy hand can join the other one as it slides further down your collarbones. he tilts his head as he watches his palms slip inside your neckline, not even bothering to tug them down properly, just meanly kneading your tits under the fabric.

you let your head fall foward until your forehead is touching his forearm, eyes fluttering shut and mouth falling agape as he rolls your nipples between his pointer and middle finger. you let out a small cry at the feeling, muttering his name and “love” over and over.

one of his hands went back to the hair on the nape of your neck, tugging your head back into the position it was a few seconds ago, while the other unhurriedly pulled away from your tits to move the cigarette just so he could talk. “didn’t look ‘just nice’, love, y’see.”

you whimper, eyes hands fluttering and feeling that familiar wave of shyness wash over you. you want to apologize, to tell him he’s the only one, but the condescending tilt of his head makes your throat tight in the best way.

“i… i’m sorry, baby…” you whisper, your voice small.

he chuckles, a low and raspy sound coming out of it. his grip on your hair tightens, pulling a choked sound out of you at the sudden movement of your head being tilted even further back.

he leans closer, bending down to touch his lips on yours. “if you’re gonna be a fucking slut, love, y’do it proper. yeah?”

you moan at his tone, and his tongue darting out widely and invading your mouth cuts you off. he groaned into it, kissing you so roughly it made you buck your hips into nothing, letting out a small whimper that he swallowed.

he pulled away just an inch, still with his hand deep in your hair and still looking down at you. “if you’re gonna be a slut…” he said, giving you small slaps on your cheek, not even bothered by the cigarette being held between his fingers. “y’do do it f’me, yeah? not for some prick who can’t afford the jewelry you’re wearing.” he said, now grabbing your jaw softly.

you moan, nodding eagerly and looking at him with pleading eyes.

“yeah, darlin’?” he mutters lowly, untangling his hand from your hand and sliding it down the side of your face.

you nod eagerly, muttering small “yeahs” over and over. you watch him take another drag and shift into his knees, his brows furrowing for a brief second in satisfaction as you part your legs without even questioning.

he pushes the hem of your dress up with his palm, exposing your lace knickers and the soft skin of your thighs. he blows the smoke, tilting his head as he watches the wet patch on the delicate fabric. “fuck, love… look at it…”

then, he reaches out, two fingers pressing firmly over your center, feeling the heat and spreading your wetness over the fabric, drawing a circular pattern right over your covered clit. you arched into it, head falling to the side and not pulling your gaze off of him.

he looked up. “was it him, hm?” he asked quietly and you shook your head eagerly in response. he shook his too, slower. mocking, almost. “no? who’s all this for then?”

“y-you… you, noel.” you whimper, hips already twitching against his hand. “it's always you.”

he just hums in response, taking one last drag and eyebrows slightly lifting like he’s telling you said the right thing. then, he takes the lit tip of his cigarette forward and with a steady hand, he presses it against your inner thigh.

you let out a gasp that immediately morphs into a moan at the sting. it’s sharp and sudden. a high-pitched whimper escapes you as you arch your back, your fingers digging into the fabric of the sofa. the pain is very much there, but it sends a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your needy core.

“n-noel... please... don’t be mean...” you whine, eyes brimming with tears as you look down at him.

he looks up at you, his expression softening just a fraction, though his eyes remain sharp. “not being mean, sweetheart,” he says, his voice almost tender now, but the edge is still there. “just wanna teach you, yeah? how to behave.”

you whimper, eyes fluttering shut and hands chasing his hair, gently resting there as he pats the ash off your sensitive skin – and then leans in to press a soothing kiss on it, like he wasn’t the one responsible for it.

you moan his name, watching him stand up – stopping along the way to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “dumb little bird” he whispered against them.

your brows furrowed softly at the words and the tone, watching him straighten his back once again, his free hand going to the button of his jeans while his other one caressed your hair back. he undoes it without rush, gaze permanent on you. just to see that look on your face again. the one that’s a bit shy, a bit eager, a bit too sweet for your own good.

“y’know what to do, don’t you, hm?”

you nod, already shifting into your knees and not pulling your eyes off of his face for a second. it’s that look he fucking loves, the one where you’re completely undone before he’s even touched you properly.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, his accent thicker from the arousal. he stays watching you with that lazy sort of pride, his hand coming to rest on the side of your cheek as you finish undoing his zipper for him. he swallows down a rough groan when you finally get him out, heavy and twitching in your hand, head tilting to the side so he can watch you better.

your hand wraps around him, his thumb presses down your cheek, softly digging into the soft flesh. “open up, then. let me see that pretty tongue.”

you dart your tongue out, eyes already fluttering shut as you lean closer to wrap your lips around his tip and take him into your mouth already.

he stops you, though – his fingers go back into your hair, tight and anchoring, forcing you to stay right there. he smirks, the arrogance is softened by the way he’s looking at you, but very much still there.

“nah, wanna hear y'say it first.” he murmurs, his voice a lower now.

“noel...” you whine, your voice breaking as you feel the heat of him so close to your face.

he doesn't say a word, just wraps his hand around yours that’s placed on the base of his cock, tapping his leaking tip against your tongue. just the taste make you involuntarily try again, but he tugs your hair just enough to keep you back.

“go on, babe. sound so pretty when y'say it. c'mon.”

your brows furrow softly as you look up at him. “your slut,” you whisper, coming out shaky by now.

“yeah, darling?” he asks, dragging the tip slowly along the length of your tongue, watching your eyes droopy and already glassy. “just mine, yeah? no one else gets to see you like this, do they?”

“just yours, noel... please...”

he let out a heavy, satisfied exhale, throbbing against your palms and determined to give it to you, finally. “there y’go…” he drags it out, nearly in a low grunt.

he slides into your mouth with deliberation. slow and unhurried, completely unbothered as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat. he moans at it, pulling back slowly – allowing to feel every vein and every texture of him – just to drag himself back in all the way.

“fuuuuck, that’s it, love… just like that.” he praises quietly as he moves his hips forward and back, holding your head in place by your hair as he slowly thrusts into your mouth.

he watches you the whole time, hands firm on your head as he fucks your mouth in a pace that leaves you breathless and soaking your knickers. the wet sounds of you trying to accommodate him filling the quiet dressing room only fuel him on. he licks his lips at it, his gaze heavy and hooded as he picks up the pace.

“fucking eager, yeah? puttin’ that mouth to good use now, fucking hell, darling, just like that.”

he watches the way you’re trying to keep up with his pace even as he starts to push a bit harder, a bit deeper, making you gag softly. he doesn't pull back, he just strokes your cheek with his free hand, his thumb catching a stray tear. “i‘ve got you. fuck. take it for your noel, yeah?”

you try to nod, drunk on the feeling even though your eyes are stained with tears from the way he’s thrusting into your mouth with a little more intent. he hisses softly at your eagerness, throwing his head back with a moan as he picks up the pace.

he’s breathing hard now, his movements becoming less controlled, more urgent. “gonna… fuck— shit, love.”

you moan around him, hands wrapping around the sides of his thighs as a silent plea for him to not stop. he picks his head up, grabbing your hair even harder as he fucks into your mouth with a greedier pace now, sloppier. “want it… fucking bad, don’t you? gonna swallow all of it, hm? fucking— filthy fuckin’ thing.”

you moan loudly, muffled by his cock fucking your mouth relentlessly. the vibration pushes him off the edge, he pulls out and immediately wraps his hand around his length to give him a few last strokes, the other staying firm in your hair to keep you looking up at him.

he grunts as he cums, the white streaks falling across your lips, your cheek, and the bridge of your nose. you stay still, breath hitching, looking up at him with those dazed, devoted eyes that only flinch at the sensation of hot spurs of his cum landing on your face.

he strokes himself with a moan, milking himself dry all over your features and not pulling his eyes off you. he pants softly as the peak slowly fades away, his chest heaving as he takes in the mess he’s made on your face.

he huffs out a satisfied exhale at it. a slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his lips. he looks soft for a second – the noel who makes you tea – before the possessive and proud side returns.

“christ…” he says lowly as he reaches down, sliding a finger through his cum staining your cheek and bringing it to your lips. “what a fucking sigh, eh?” he says breathlessly.

you can’t help but break into a small smirk, wrapping your lips around his slick finger and slowly sucking it clean. he hums at the sight, a silent praise. “that’s it. clean it up, love. all yours.”

he pulls his digit out slowly, his thumb wiping away a smudge he missed on your chin and sliding in your mouth once again. he leans down, pressing one last kiss to your forehead.

“y’alright, then?” he says, tilting his head so he can look at your eyes looking back at him. he pulls his thumb out of your mouth for the last time, leaning in to give your messy lips a soft kiss.

you nod, kissing him back. he huffs out a small satisfied breath, standing back up and taking your hand into his to help you stand.

“good girl.”

before you can reply, a few knocks disrupt the haze you both are lost in. you whimper softly in frustration at the words yelled from the other side reminding you he has a set in a few. he huffs out a small laugh at your reaction, placing his hand on the back of your neck and caressing it softly. “cmon. best seats in the house. setlist’s good tonight.”

you huff out a small laugh yourself, sorting your hair as he tucks himself back in.

“will have the best seat later too, won’t i?” you tease, leaning in to give his lips a kiss.

he smiles at it, shaking his head at the cheekiness and giving your ass a firm squeeze when you kiss the tip of his nose – a sweet little moment in contrast of what you’re really implying.

“best seat for ya and a 5 star best meal f’me. that’s the fucking life, love.”

You knew how he hated to seem like he was soft, scoffing or shrugging whenever you would comment on something. But you knew, you’d seen the look in his eye from time to time, when he knew nobody was around. The things that he would say publicly were dripping in sarcasm but undoubtably sweet towards you. At home and away from flashing lights, loud crowds of people and the constant upkeep of his persona, he was always warm.

“You alright?” It was a stupid question. You knew before you even asked how he would respond to it and mentally you shook yourself for starting with that. The article you’d seen in the store was already on the table, the one that labelled him as the brother with the guitar rather than the good looks of his brother. Saying he should be happy he had the money and fame of Oasis since without it, it would be hard to get anyone on his arm with that face.

“It’s okay baby, just another article. They’re always trying to come up with something to keep attention on them.”

He sprawled across the couch, paper on the table with his face on the front page as he tried to seem unbothered. Exactly as you had expected, after you spoke, the wall within him came up and the shift was immediate. That too sharp glint in his eye, the slight furrow of thick eyebrows as he huffed, hand waving at nothing.

“It ain’t wrong, I’m the less fit brother on a good day, downright ugly on any other one.”

As a distraction from the conversation, he grabbed for the pack of cigarettes on the table, flicking angrily as he lit one. He knew you didn’t like it when he smoked inside, always telling him to bring it outside even if he didn’t listen half the time. Trying to do anything else than show how deeply the words had gotten under his skin.

Despite the deliberate nature of the slouch he had taken on the couch, arranging himself in a way that took more room than he needed to, the insecurity was laced underneath it. The rattle of his foot knocking against the floor as his leg bounced, the quick draws of the cigarette and darting eyes, the tension wound throughout the supposedly relaxed position.

“Noel,” it came out so softly, “You don’t really think that, do you?”

The question was so direct it caused the rustle of shifting clothes into silence as he stared. Your arms folded as you waited, the quiet air becoming tense as you held his gaze.

“I ever tell you about the time me and Liam got mixed up for the other? Happens more than you’d think actually. Poor bastard.”

Familiar with his way of deflecting something he didn’t want to answer, you would have let it go and accepted that the lack of an answer was the answer. Today though, there was a feeling that welled up at the thought of leaving this conversation as it was. You felt the need to press him on this one in this rare occurrence of insecurity.

A flash of anger made you swipe the newspaper he fixed his eyes on to avoid your gaze off the table, pages falling to the floor sounding loud in the silence. None of the frustration was directed to Noel, but rather on his behalf, at the sickening press taking jabs at him. Sure, maybe he was arrogant and snarky, riling reporters up when he got the chance and any comments about his personality seemed to drop off him like water. Pointed jabs at his appearance seemed to bother him more.

“I asked a question.”

“Okay fine, fuck, maybe I do alright. Happy now?” It was scathing, angry, the venom below the phrasing and way he spit the words shocked you. He wouldn’t look at you now, head turned stubbornly away and he drew on the cigarette again, smoke streaming out of his lips when he made a much longer exhale than necessary.

You moved carefully, hand hesitant to reach for his knee, the one that was still aggressively bouncing. The frantic pace slowed gradually as you sat quietly beside him, leaning forward slightly to prop your chin on your other hand, rested on your own leg curled beneath you. His jaw was gritting when he turned back towards you, using anger to cover this discomfort at being vulnerable.

“Hard though innit, when it’s true. Being around Liam, all these people who are making a living out of looking good and being in bands, makes me harder on the eyes.”

“Come on love, don’t be like that.” You wanted to grab at his shoulders and shake him until he got it, really got that fact you truly believed he was perfect in your eyes. The other part of you wanted to soothe him, drown him in gentle touches and soft words until he forgot about it completely.

Carefully extending squeezing his knee before letting go, hand travelling to cup the side of his face, only drawing away to shift your position. It was easier now to stare openly, watching the way he tilted his face into your hands when they brushed against his cheeks.

The tense muscles slowly softened under your gentle hands, the way you smoothed your thumbs across his brows, traced down the side of his cheek, thumbs again brushing the skin under his eyes.

Leaning forward your lips traced a similar path, kissing his forehead and lingering there. You pulled back to look, really look at him again. Everything that you saw fit together. The thick brows making his eyes so strikingly blue, the creases around them showing up when he smiled. Even better when his eyes would almost disappear beneath them when he laughed. His nose had a lovely curve to it, strong, pronounced, slightly crooked but adding to the flow of his face. The lines around his mouth, ever present whether he was frowning or grinning, framed pink lips perfectly. The set of his jaw balancing the heavy weight of his eyes.

Unique features that were so him. Anything different and it wouldn’t be Noel Gallagher, rock star and your boyfriend.

The intensity of your stare caused him in grimace, shift around in your hands.

You pulled them away from his cheeks, letting him turn back when he was ready. It didn’t take long before his eyes, questioning and without the same edge in them landed back on you.

“You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.” His brow quirked up, incredulous. “Truly. I mean it Noel. Everything about you is so special to you, if you were any different you wouldn’t be my Noel Gallagher.”

Your hands pushed through his hair, trailing it back down to brush over all his features again. Bridge of his nose, curve of his cheek, simply admiring. You didn’t know if he ever let you spend so much time looking at him so intently, tracing his features and not looking away for a moment.

“You’re so handsome. So perfect, don’t you think?”

The shy streak in him re-emergences at that, clicking his tounge and eyes darting away. The feeling of suspended time disappeared as he tilted his head away.

“Whatever you say, love.”

Deflection again.

Snaking your hands around his neck you instead move from beside him to straddle over his thighs blocking his field of view as you lean further in. Gently, you caught his lips in a sweet kiss. You were going to make him believe it. As you carefully pulled away you placed another just on the corner of his mouth, a soft peck before trailing more across his cheek.

“I do say so.” You whispered in his ear between soft chaste kisses and spit slick ones placed around his jaw. “I say you’re the most fit man in England, if not the world. And I’d know wouldn’t I? I find myself staring at you so often.” Both hands aggressively gripping the sides of his face now, forcing him to really listen.

“Say it.” It was a command to him with no room for movement.

“Say what?”

“That you’re handsome.”

“No.” He rolled his eyes to side with a huff. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I want you to say and mean it. I want you to because it means something to me, that you know I think you’re beyond attractive. If you could see yourself like I do you’d be amazed, but alas, you can’t so I’ll settle for convincing you this way.”

“You’re actually serious about it.” It was less of a question and more of a subtle plea for reassurance, in that roundabout way he did it.

“Completely. You drive me mad every time I see you doing anything, I’m almost offended that you didn’t notice.” It was said lightly, in a playful way that still let the serious undertone slip through. Despite the request you made being ignored, when he went from his leaned back position to pulling you into a tight embrace, you knew it had finally reached him

He would never say it. But the way his face buried into your neck and arms wrapped around you, you knew he needed to hear it. It didn’t matter you couldn’t see him as he pressed further in and took a huge breath, slightly shaky, and suddenly he relaxed. He sagged against your frame as you remained perched on his lap, hand stroking his hair and chin resting against his head. Another unexpected show of the softness he carried, in a raw form, nothing like his polished versions in songs. When he finally pulled away from the entanglement of limbs he looked calmer.

Knocking your foreheads together as you both sat for a moment, relishing in the intimacy. You broke away first to place another soft kiss against his lips, keeping it sickly sweet and drawing it out, bringing your hands to lay against his face once again. When your lips parted and you leaned back, it was impossible to not grin at how rumpled he looked from some kisses and sweet words. It was exactly how you’d wanted him earlier to make him forget about anything else and instead focus on you.

“I love you.” It was quiet, reverent from the way you could hear the awe curling through the three words alone.

“I love you too, Noel.”

—————————————-

you’d done everything to be able to flop down onto the couch with a glass of wine. the kitchen is spotless after dinner, boys in bed upstairs, and your favorite reality show playing softly on the tv. but, one thing was missing. your husband. noel has been spending his days again in the studio mixing old forgotten and cut songs, sending you photos every so often of his large mixing board with too many buttons to understand, leaving you to just respond with a “miss you baby, come home”- and in his true old man fashion, he just hearts your replies and sends a cheeky wink emoji.

finally though, after a few moments of peace in your usual guitar and teenage boy filled house, the front door lock clicks open. noel trudges in softly, kicking his shoes off and immediately piling onto the couch with you when he sees you laid out, mentally exhausted. he nearly purrs when your fingers thread through his hair “good day?” you ask softly and he just nods against your chest. “bedtime?” noel nods immediately and slowly heads up the stairs. you gulp down your wine, flicking off the downstairs lights and exhaling longingly when you find him sitting on his side of the bed. your “shower with me?” comes out meek, but his tired blue eyes look up and nod once…. you turn the water on and strip with him… getting in slow as he mutters about “fucking heads killing me”

you step under the water and rinse through your hair, but your eyes stay on noel. his calloused hands rinsing off his chest and slightly pudgier stomach, and before you can stop yourself, your hands are around his neck and lips against his slow and sweet “mmm what’re you doing” noel mutters soft into your mouth “just kissing..missed you” noel scoffs- a “needy bird” coming out under his breath. his blue eyes look into yours, immediately clocking your doe eyed innocence as a facade. after so many years together, he can read you like the back of his hand. a soft chuckle comes out of him as he shakes his head, before crashing his mouth to yours again- your back hits the shower wall as you smile against his lips, taking his surrender as a win.

despite your victory, next thing you know, your spun around and pressed against the cold tile, noel catching your surprised laugh before it fully leaves your lips. you hear a click of metal, brows furrowing, before your knees lock up at the pressure of water between your thighs. “noel” you gasp, eyes wide looking at him over your shoulder. “what? thought you wanted my attention” his lips brush your cheek, amusement heavy in his tone “dragging me into the shower and giving me those naughty kisses..” his arm that’s not occupied wraps around your neck- arching you back against him making the water hit exactly where you need it most- hard. “come home knackered from the studio… and here you are, my missus all wet and needy after taking care of the house all day yeah?”

he shifts his hand, knowing all the places to put the heavy stream that make your legs buckle. you let out a loud whine and noel shushes you gently, his wet hand covering your mouth. “boys are asleep baby remember…. need to be quiet for me” his eyes lock with yours as you whine against his hand legs twitching and tensing sliding on the wet tile. “feels good yeah? just some water s’all it takes to get my needy bird off?” you sigh against his hand nodding dumbly, making noel chuckle against your shoulder. at another shift of the water and another high pitch whine coming out muffles against his palm… he slowly pulls his hand away… tapping two of his fingers against your lips…. “gotta be quiet baby” noel nods trying to get you to understand “need me to fill that mouth to keep you from waking the whole neighborhood up yeah?” you nod taking his fingers in with no resistance, leading noel to moan softly at your tongue swirling around his digits “fuck…. good girl… good fuckin’ girl y’are” he mumbles into your neck kissing it gently.

-

you’re not sure how long it’s been or how many orgasms have past, you drool around noel’s fingers that are still shoved in your mouth, your legs twitching every second now as the constant high pressure of water remains right on your clit. noel moans under his breath softly as he feels your body go more and more limp against the cool tile. “so fuckin hot baby” noel mumbles into your cheek, shamelessly grinding against your ass, painfully hard and leaking since your first orgasm, his fingers shove deeper into your mouth making you let out a gargled moan. “gonna let me put it in now that your nice and ready yeah? finally want me to fill you up? or you just want more water on that needy cunt?” you let out a strangled number of pleas around his fingers making noel smile “you feel how hard i am huh? came home so tired and now you’ve got me leaking like a fucking teenager” noel kisses your neck, keeping the water going strong still just to keep you on your toes “you can come one more time huh? if your needy enough to lure me into the shower you can come one more time… then i’ll give you my cock… promise baby” you nod around his fingers defeat imminent. all it takes is a few more dirty whispers from noel in your ear and your cumming again, legs numb and brain turned to mush. noel slowly pulls the showerhead away, leaving you clenching around nothing a proud and cocky smiling dawning his face. he clicks it back on the holder and wraps an arm around your torso, the other lining himself up with you. his mouth finds your ear again as begins to push in slowly “just kissing right baby?”

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