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★ 2005.

all the mess you endured from 2001 to 2004 feels like a lifetime ago, because it’s 2005 now. and you’re the only person in the world that can say that rockstar oasis legend noel gallagher is trying – yes, trying – to make you american pancakes in a chilly sunday morning.

and he’s the only man that gets to brag about knocking up america’s hottest front woman. and yes, he is smug about it – even though at home you’ve got him completely around you and the little one’s finger.

right now, you’re barefoot and very pregnant. leaning against the counter, glowing and hormonal – which means permanently hungry.

and he is more than happy to spoil you rotten, of course.

“let me know if they taste better than what they look like,” he says, setting the plate down with a confidence that’s odd for someone who doesn’t cook. it’s endearing.

you huffed out a tiny laugh, tilting your head while looking at it. then back at him. then at it again, all while fighting back a small smile. he laughed, shaking his head and leaning in closer, pressing a small kiss to your head, “don’t be a cunt,” he said fondly before walking back to the sink.

you broke into a laugh at it, picking up the fork and the knife. “hey. that’s no way to talk to a pregnant lady.” you teased as you cut a small piece of the pancake.

he grinned even though you couldn’t see it with his back facing you as he cleaned off the pan he used, shaking his head as he teased back: “my pregnant lady.”

you take a bite, humming around the fork because they are surprisingly good. you giggle quietly as you watch his shoulders relax as he scrubs the pan, humming back to you like he’s saying ‘see?’

“they’re sooooo good,” you say sweetly. then, you set the fork down and waddle over to him, sliding your arms around his waist from behind – or as far as they’ll go around him with the bump in the way. he turns his head, already smirking and leaning closer to your lips that are trying really hard to give him kisses on the cheek. you manage, giving him tiny pecks and not minding the light scruff tickling your nose while muttering “thank you, thank you” in between kisses.

── .✦

later, the plates are stacked in the sink and you’re both on the couch. you’re tucked into his side, his arm around your shoulder and his other one drawing gentle patterns on your stomach.

you scoff as robbie williams comes along on the tv, just because. shifting your weight as you mutter “asshole”

noel lets out a short scoff back, lips curling up and his hand reaching for the remote. “prick,” he agrees instantly.

he clicks the button, changing the channel until the screen settles on a tv program that you don’t really know what it’s about, just has a pretty beachy view. you perk up, “ohh, you know what? we should take a vacation before i give birth.”

he breathes out a tiny chuckle, amused. he turns his face towards yours, eyebrows raising softly, “yeah?” rubbing slow circles over your stomach. “where d’you wanna go then?”

you smile, nodding. “maybe france? oh my god, what if she’s born abroad? we could give her a little beret and everything.” you joke fondly.

he laughed, closing his eyes and resting the top of his head on the crook of your neck. “a beret?” he says amused.

you laughed, “mhm. teach her how to say oh la la or something.”

noel laughs. then, he shifts his head until he pressed his lips softly to your temple, rubbing your belly in wide circles. “well, we could go to thailand again.” he suggests easily.

your brows furrow for a second, then you pull back just enough to look at him.

he looks back at you, “what?”

“we’ve never been to thailand, noel.” you say dryly, eyebrows raising slightly. in that way you always do when he fucks up.

he blinks, sheepishly. “oh. r-right…”

you tilted your head, eyebrows raising and pushing his hand off from your belly. “are you confusing me with what's her face?” you ask, teasing more than anything, but you’re aware of how it sounds like a tiny scold. good.

he laughs, closing his eyes, looking genuinely embarrassed, and immediately leans in to start pamper your neck with soft kisses, trying to find his way back into your good graces. “thought we’d gone, love. sorry.”

”we went to hawaii, noel. not fucking thailand” you say simply, as you try to move away from his kisses.

“i know darlin’, i’m sorry. i'm sorry,” he mutters against your neck, moving closer despite it all, his breath warm on your skin. “didn't mean to”

“no. it's fine.” you say, but your tone is dry and clipped. you shift away a fraction, playing the part of the angry missus perfectly.

deep down, you aren't really jealous, you know you're it for him. but you’re hormonal, incredibly horny and a little bored, and you want to see him squirm a little.

“come on, darlin’…” he coaxed, his voice dropping as he nibbled your neck softly. “you're not jealous, are you?”

you don’t answer. you just stare at the tv, chin tilted up. he’ still trying to lure you in with kissing, his lips curled into a soft smirk moving from your jaw to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “you're literally carrying my kid, love…” he whispers.

“i'm pregnant with your kid, yes. so, i get to do whatever i want”

“cmon…” he says softly, hand sliding up your thigh and his palm pressing softly over your clothed cunt. “i’m sorry, darling…”

“yeah?” you breathe out softly, despite yourself.

“mhm. prettiest… girl i’ve ever fuckin’ had. only one i want.” he whispers in your ear. still kissing your neck and sliding his hand inside your shorts waistband and finding you already slick, smearing your arousal over your folds in wide circles and not daring to tease as you gasped softly. “best fuckin’ cunt i’ve ever had, love.”

you tipped your head back, his name escaping your lips in a needy and whiny moan. he can’t really see what he’s doing, but he doesn’t mind, he just feels his way through and listens to the small wet noises he cannot ever get enough.

“y’walk around like that… my kid inside you and a ring on your finger. can’t even think about other bird’s name.” he said lowly, pressing his middle and ring finger inside your entrance and slipping in without any resistance – all while still making sure he’s pressing the heel of his hand over your clit. he knows how you like it.

you moaned softly, head falling to the side and resting on his shoulder. your chest was already going up and down at a faster pace, eyes opening with struggle to watch his hand working you only to be met with your own belly on the way.

you breathe out a laugh despite yourself, “can’t… fuck. you can’t even see what you’re doing down there.” you tease, breathless.

he shakes his head, smirking and not letting up on the movement of his hand. “s’alright,” he mutters, his fingers inside you slow and steady, his mouth gently kissing your cheek. “know how to make my missus feel good. don’t i?“

you moaned, moving until your lips found his in a slow and messy kiss, moaning softly inside his mouth as your legs twitched in pleasure.

he whispered against your lips, fingering you in a perfect rhythm. “prettiest mummy there is, look at you, hm? my girl. no need to be jealous.”

you moaned, a needy whimper as you reached out for him too, your hand finding him through his trousers. already hard, waiting for you.

he breathes out a low moan, pressing his hips upwards to meet your touch. “yeah?” he teases, his eyes fluttering shut.

you moan, nodding as you undo the lace of his joggers and eagerly push them down – clumsily – with one hand. he moans and kisses you again once you wrap your palm around his cock, stroking it up and down slowly, your cunt clenches around his fingers and you moan inside his mouth at the feeling of his warmth on your hand.

noel's breath hitches the second your thumb brushes the leaking slit of his tip, his head falling back against the sofa cushions and immediately propping back up to watch your hand jerk him off.

he lets out a needy groan as you tighten your grip, twitching his hips upwards and pulling you closer to his side with his arm around your shoulders, while his other hand fucks your soaked cunt with even more precision.

“fuck... yeah?” he breathes out, cutting himself off as he pulls you into another kiss, swallowing down your moans just as needy as his. “wanna make… this daddy feel good too, hm? that's my girl.”

you moan, and as your hips move against his hand, chasing his touch, stroking him faster, you mutter against his mouth – shaky but firm, meaning every single word. “you're mine. every inch. fucking mine.”

he nods eagerly, breathlessly moaning against your lips and bucking into your hand, pathetically turned on at the wet sounds of his fingers inside your cunt and your words in between your pretty moans – despite trying to keep his composure. his fingers are still buried deep inside you, mirroring the pace, making you feel full and desperate.

“she a better fuck than me?” you murmur, syrupy and needy, against his lips. your thumb catches the bead of pre cum at his tip before it smears it down again.

noel gasps, a broken sound leaving his throat as he shakes his head violently. “no... no, course not. no one has. not even… fuck– fuckin’ close. never did.”

you moan at his words, eyes already glassy with your imminent orgasm as you choke out, “yeah?”

“fuck. y-yeah.” he says. already whiny and nearly gone just with your hand, his usual cockiness completely gone as he thrusts into your palm. and he doesn't let up on you, his fingers keep curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“you think about me when you were fucking her?” you moaned out.

he lets out a long moan, blue eyes squeezing shut as he loses the battle with his own body. “yes, fuck.” he chokes out, his voice a shaky rasp. “always... always. even before, always you in me head.”

you moaned, eyebrows furrowing and head dropping back. your hand let up on stroking his cock for a moment, but it’s fine. neither of you mind if you’re a little selfish right now – it’s not on purpose.

he takes it as an opportunity to focus on you, minding more attention to your throbbing clit under his palm as his fingers curl inside you. he leans in your ear, “so fuckin’ fit like this. carrying my baby. takin' care of me like this... fucking love you.” he whispers, his tone needy and shaky as he keeps bucking into your hand even if it isn’t fully tight around his cock. god, he’s needy.

you gasped, moaning and babbling his name and “yes” over and over.

he moaned in your ear as a response, “yeah? got no fucking clue what you do to me. makes me wanna put another one in you.” – he cuts himself with a moan, looking at your hand tightening around his cock again and feeling his own feels his climax building – “and this one’s not even out yet”

you moan. loud and needy. you tighten your grip on him, your hand slick and still moving with a frantic pace. “keep talking,” you plead, your voice breaking. “tell me. don’t stop, baby… please.”

you’re arching your back, your bump making the angle awkward but the sensation twice as intense for you and him. his forehead pressed hard against your temple as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at you. “you’re so fucking wet. can hear it. luckiest bastard in this fuckin’ world, me.”

his tone is feral, needy and eager. like he wants to worship the ground you walk on, not let you lift a finger just because you’re his missus carrying his kid – and still needs to hold himself back so he doesn’t pull your hair while he fucks you from behind and reminds you who you belong to.

“look at me,” he commands, his voice dropping as he feels how close you are. the rhythm of his hips matching the pace of your hand. “look at me while i’m givin’ it to you”

you open your eyes with struggle just in time to see his face crumple in pleasure, all that usual arrogance melting into pure adoration and lust.

“fuckin’ hell,” he moans, throwing his head back and biting his bottom lip as he bucks into your hand, his voice cracking. “keep doin’ that. yeah. right there. fuck. gonna make me cum.”

he lets out a long “fuck” as he spills over at the same time his fingers give you that one last, perfect push over the edge – making you gasp and whimper as you cum, pulsing hard around his fingers. unable to mind the mess he’s making all over your hand.

the room is silent for few seconds, except for the sound of your combined heavy breathes and the distant hum of the telly. noel is slumped against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, completely wrecked. his fingers shaky as they slowly withdraw from you.

he lets out a long, shaky exhale, “gonna be the fucking death of me, you are.” he mutters into your neck, his tone is low but you can hear the small smile he has on.

you giggle breathlessly, your body still humming with the aftershocks. you shift slightly, feeling the weight and the mess between you, but you don't move away. not yet. you only reach down with your clean hand to stroke the damp hair away from his forehead. “you started it. talking about thailand,” you tease softly.

he groans, defeated – but he’s laughing, too. he lifts his head just enough to look at you, his blue eyes still blown wide. “i’m a fuckin' idiot, aren't i?”

you laugh, shaking your head and pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “it’s okay. it’s your dad brain catching up, i think.”

he breathes out a laugh, eyes closing and head resting on the back of the couch. “already? fuck me.”

you laugh, shaking your head and snuggling your face on the side of his neck. he moves away with a groan like it physically hurts him, you blink and let out a small whimper in protest as he pads down to the bathroom anyway, coming back with a damp towel to clean the mess – and a cheeky smile on his face at the usual neediness he never gets tired of.

“you alright?” he asks, looking up at you with that fond expression as he gently rubs the towel over your sticky hand. “baby didn't kick me for being a prick, did she?” he teased with a soft smirk.

you laughed, shaking your head. he smiled back and dropping back beside you with a small sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss on your hair, hand rubbing your back up and down gently. “france it fuckin’ is, then.”