#blur x reader

Although you were seeing Damon, Liam was someone you kept on the side.

You were too good at sneaking around with him, nobody would have had any idea that was going on, especially during the height of the Battle of Britpop.

It all started when you attended the 1996 Brit Awards with Damon. You planned on remaining by his side only, but other plans came up.

Liam Gallagher came around, talking all cocky in your ear, making fun of Damon and taunting Blur every chance he got.

"Must be exhausting trying to pretend your boyfriend's music is any good, eh?" He said when he finally got you alone.

You narrowed your eyes at him, completely unimpressed. "Excuse me?"

"Just sayin'," He smirks, taking a sip from his beer. "If you fancy needin' an upgrade from those wankers, you know where to find me."

You rolled your eyes at the wink he gave afterwards, trying your best to ignore him for the rest of the night, no matter how much he kept coming around.

Liam couldn't keep it to himself, going to tell Noel almost right away. "Have you seen Albarn's girl? She's proper fit."

Noel wasn't exactly impressed. "Yeah? What's that got to do with us?"

A smug smirk grows on his face. "Think she'll go for me?"

"Whatever you do, don't involve me in it." His brother rolls his eyes.

Blur ended up taking no awards home that night, while Oasis left with three, making sure to rub it in their faces with the Shitelife line.

Going to the after-party wasn't much fun, at least on your end. Oasis and Blur were on different sides of the room, one celebrating their win, the other sulking in their loss.

You stuck by Damon's side for the night, continuing to stay loyal in your allegiance to him and the rest of the band.

Liam didn't make things easy, though. For as loud and cocky as he was being, he always managed to look across the room and meet your gaze.

He knew you were watching, winking at you as he took a sip from his beer when you looked over. You rolled your eyes and turned away.

He wasn't going to talk to you in front of Damon, he wasn't that stupid. But the minute you were alone, that's when he made his move.

"How's it feel bein' on the losin' side?" Liam smirked, coming beside you as you waited for a drink at the bar. "Dermot's not lookin' too happy."

"Yeah, you seem very interested since you keep looking over." You snap, looking at him.

"Just interested in you," He comes closer, looking you up and down. "You look bored. If you wanna see what winnin' looks like, you can always come over."

He was so annoyingly charming, and as much as you tried to ignore him, he always found a way to try and slither back into your view.

"No, thank you." You say politely, taking your drink and turning your back to get away from him.

"I'm just sayin'," Liam gently catches your wrist before you could fully walk away. "If Damon's still being a cunt, call me."

That's when you felt him tuck a small piece of paper in your hand, letting you walk back to Damon as if nothing happened.

You didn't dare look back, but your heart was pounding with the possibility of seeing him after the after party.

Your mind was telling you this wasn't a good idea, but the temptation was a little too hard to resist. ✰ ✰ ✰

You didn't go back with Damon when you left the after-party. Some excuse about wanting to hang back with an old friend was convincing enough.

But really, you went to the nearest phone and dialed the number Liam gave you, still wondering if this was a good idea.

Before you could back out and hang up, he answered. "Miss me already, love?" He says, like he immediately knew who was calling.

"Shut up," You sigh before talking again. "Are you still up?"

"Yeah," He replies, his voice a little less cocky this time. "The hotel's five minutes away if you wanna come by."

That was how you ended up in Liam's hotel room, past midnight, heart pounding as you watched him step closer to you, his gaze full of hunger.

"Damon's got it good," He mutters under his breath, doing that shameless look up and down he was doing all night. "Kinda jealous he's got you all to himself."

"You're hard to resist." You whisper against his lips, inches away from yours. He was waiting for you to make the first move and fall into his trap.

That fed his ego of course, coming from Damon's girlfriend herself. "What's that? Damon not satisfyin' you enough?"

"That's not it," You reply. "Like you said, I just wanted to see what winning felt like."

It was then that you pressed your lips to his, slow and hesitant at first, before it became heated and desperate, rushing to get each other's clothes off.

Liam pulled away first, eyes already blown wide with lust. "If we're gonna do this, I wanna remember it."

He reached for a small camera, holding it up between you two. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of it, looking at him. "You want to record it?"

"Yeah, it'll stay between us," He says with that smug grin, taking notice of your reaction. "Unless it bothers you. This night will still be between us without it."

If you knew that saying yes would lead to problems with you and Damon in the future, you would've left. But the thrill in the moment clouded your judgment.

"No, we can record it." You say, trying not to show how excited the thought of being recorded made you feel.

He set up the camera and started recording before you even had your clothes off, turning back to make another sly comment. "Somethin' tells me Damon's too boring to do stuff like this."

Before you could even say anything else, he kissed you again, a gasp leaving your lips as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

The camera captured everything, from the small whimper that you tried to hide, to the way your hands fisted in his clothing, desperate to take it off.

Liam made you face the camera once you were standing in your bra and panties, showing you off to the camera, hands settling on your waist from behind.

He kissed along your neck, a soft sigh escaping your lips as your head fell back onto his shoulder, giving him more access.

He nipped along the skin, making a point to show the camera that he was marking you as his, and you were enjoying it.

It was then that he pushed you onto the bed before getting down on his knees, making sure the camera caught every second of the action.

Liam started to kiss along your stomach, blue eyes staring up at you as he inched lower, stopping right above the waistband of your panties.

Your body felt like it was on fire, heating up with each kiss he left on your skin as he came closer to your soaked cunt.

"Liam, please…" You whine, opening your legs to him, arousal clouding your judgment. All you could think about was his mouth on you.

He let out a low groan at the sight, his fingers starting to rub your clit through the fabric. "Tell me what you want, babe."

"Your mouth," A soft gasp falls from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the contact. "Please don't make me wait."

A devilish smirk grew on his face at your impatience, loving how he had you so needy already and he barely touched you.

Following your command, his fingers hooked the waistband of your panties, pulling them down between your legs, revealing your dripping cunt.

"Fuck me…" He groans, just getting hard knowing that he gets to have this all to himself, and not Damon.

He threw your panties to the side of the bed, still not giving in to your needs yet. He kissed along your thigh, watching as you lay there impatiently, needing his mouth on you.

You bit your bottom lip in frustration, resisting the urge to just push his face between your legs. "Please…"

Liam leaned in and licked a long, slow, delicious stripe up your clit, making your legs tremble from the contact.

"Tastes like heaven." He mumbles into your clips before taking another long stripe up your clit, getting off to the way you moaned this time.

He moves your legs over your shoulders, moaning and diving into your cunt like a man starved. Every lick and suck was making you arch into him, the pleasure becoming too much.

He looked up at you through his long lashes, smirking against your cunt when he saw how beautiful you looked with your eyes closed in pleasure.

"Does Damon eat you out like this?" He swirls his tongue along your clit, watching as your cheeks flush from both the pleasure and the question.

When you didn't answer, he pulled back to look at your face, refusing to continue unless you said something. "Come on, answer for the camera, babe."

With your cheeks burning, you answered. "No, he doesn't," You whined, head finding the back of his head. "Don't stop, please…"

"Heard that, Damon?" He smirked, going to insert a finger into your tightness. "I've gotta be the one to please your girl."

You hated how cocky he was about all of it, as if Damon were watching in that moment. He was loving just how easy it was to leave you a wreck.

He dove back into your cunt after, his tongue flicking against your cunt as he started to move his finger against your walls, making you cry out.

You tugged lightly at his scalp, pushing his face further into your cunt, nose bumping against your clit as he worked his finger against your walls, knuckle deep.

Another finger had you moaning louder, thighs trembling around his head, his nose rubbing against your clit, giving extra pleasure.

"Liam," You say his name, feeling the vibration of his moan against your clit. "I'm so close, don't stop…"

His fingers curled inside you in response, moving them faster in an attempt to get you to your orgasm. "Come for me, beautiful."

He sucked on your clit, and you instantly became undone, thighs clamping around his head as your walls clenched around his fingers.

Every sound of your sweet moans was caught on camera as Liam continued to move his fingers through your orgasm.

"That's it, love," He smirks, removing his fingers to taste you on his fingers. "Haven't even fucked you proper."

After you came down from your high, Liam went to remove his boxers before moving you onto your hands and knees.

"Face the camera, babe," Liam whispers in your ear. "Wanna see all the pretty faces you make when I fuck you."

He couldn't wait to watch the tape back, already imagining how wrecked you would look on camera, needy for his cock.

He teased his cock through your folds, listening to the way you would whimper and push back for him to take you.

"Look at this Damon," He smirked, continuing to tease your folds. "Your girl's all desperate for my cock."

Without warning, he shoved his cock into your cunt, making you gasp as your fingers gripped the sheets under you from the stretch.

Liam didn't give you any time to adjust, immediately setting a ruthless pace even though you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

"Liam," You gasp, eyes fluttering closed as moans fall from your lips, legs trembling as he delivers each sharp thrust in search of your sweet spot.

"That's right, babe," He places his hands on your hips, driving you back against him harder. "Let Damon know how much I'm making you feel good."

You whimper at his words, body arching into him as your walls continued to stretch to the size of him.

He felt different from Damon, thicker, more controlled, determined to leave the imprint of his cock in your walls long after this night was over.

"Please don't stop." You whine, throwing your head back in pleasure as he continues to pound into your cunt without mercy.

He groans into your ear in response, grip on your hips tightening. "Does Damon fuck you like this?"

In a haze, you shook your head, crying out as you felt him hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars, walls clenching around him.

His hand found your hair, fisting it into a ponytail as he pulled back, making you arch as he fucked into you harder.

"Let me hear you say it," He whispers in your ear before looking at the camera. "Let them hear it."

Putting on a performance was his specialty, and doing so when he knew he was being recorded with you made him cockier than ever.

He could tell you were close, walls fluttering around him as he fucked you deep, unable to even think straight.

"He doesn't fuck me like you do," You gasp, tears blurring your vision. "You feel so good, I'm gonna come."

"Good girl," Liam groans in your ear, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. "Wanna feel you come on my cock."

A few more sharp thrusts, and you came undone on his cock, clenching around him as your eyes rolled back into your head, the force of your orgasm leaving you trembling.

He continued to fuck you through it, loving the way you couldn't keep quiet from both the overstimulation and the pleasure, tears slipping down your cheeks.

His eyes glanced over to the panties that were thrown to the side of the bed, lying there with your slick, proof of how eager you were for him.

Just the sight of it was enough to get him close, lying there pink and naughty, ready to be claimed as his.

"Fuck princess," He pants, staring at the panties as his rhythm falters. "Gonna make you mine…"

With a few more thrusts, he quickly pulled himself out, stroking himself quickly as he positioned himself over your panties.

He came with a deep groan of your name, your used panties being stained with his seed, the camera capturing every second of it.

When you turned back to look at what he did, he simply looked at you with a smirk. "Just so you can go home wearing me."

And the camera would capture you doing exactly that, taking the stained panties and putting them back on, carrying him home with you.

Liam ended the tape with one last message: "Lost the award and the girl. Hope there's no hard feelings, Damon." ✰ ✰ ✰

The night you spent with Liam was memorable, you couldn't deny that. You continued to see him in secret a few times afterward, even spending a night watching the tape back.

Things didn't last forever with Liam. Eventually, you became more serious with Damon, and he was starting to become "serious" with Patsy.

But one day, he decided to restart a rivalry that was long over, and it all started with the tape.

He wasn't going to leak it himself to the public, he wouldn't incriminate himself like that. But all that talk to Damon during the tape meant he planned on sending it to him after all.

Damon had every right to be suspicious when Liam randomly came up to him and said it was a gift for you. Why would he have a gift for you?

So when he was alone in the flat while you were out running errands, the curiosity got the best of him. He decided to put the tape into the player and see what it was.

The last thing he was expecting to see was Liam settled between your legs, eating you out like there was no tomorrow.

His eyes widened in horror, realizing what was going on instantly. But he didn't bring himself to turn it off, like it was so bad he couldn't look away.

The worst thing about it was that you weren't even around to see it, which only made the rage boil up the longer he watched.

You happened to walk in at the wrong time. At first when you stepped through the door, you thought he was just watching porn.

But when you stepped to where the sound was coming from, you saw what was really happening.

There you were, hands and knees on the bed, Liam putting on his performance of a lifetime of putting you through the mattress as you desperately moaned his name.

It was the worst time for you to feel the slight throb in your jeans, but it was the first time you had even seen some part of the tape.

Damon turned back to look at you with fire in his eyes, and that's when you came back to reality.

"What's this?" He asked, turning to look at you as the tape continued to play in the background.

"Damon, listen," You stammer, trying to find the right words. "I can explain, it's not what you think—"

Just when you were going to explain yourself further, the sound of your moan came through. "He doesn't fuck me like you do…"

He couldn't say anything, just laughed and shook his head. You, on the other hand, were ready to yell at Liam.

You knew he did it as some power move to Damon, even after the petty rivalry was long over, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

"Is that right?" Damon stands up this time, laughing despite the anger he was feeling. "He fucks you better than I do?"

"No!" You quickly replied, panic rising as the tape continued to play. "It was just something I said in the moment, I swear—"

"When was this?" He asks, lowering the volume this time. (He couldn't hear you over the way you were moaning on the tape.)

There was no use in hiding things anymore, so you decided to be upfront about it. "The night of the Brit Awards…"

Damon closed his eyes like it was taking everything in him not to blow up right now, and a part of you was wondering how he was even managing to stay so calm, but you weren't going to push it.

"You went to fuck him that night? After you told me you were hanging out with a friend?" He asks.

"I had my reasons!" You replied, fully owning up to it now that you were caught.

He scoffed and shook his head. "And what would that be?"

"You were moping around all night after the loss," You shrugged. "It wasn't fun, and he gave me a tempting offer."

He couldn't help but laugh at that again, like he just couldn't believe this was happening right now. "Really?"

"Yeah," You replied quickly. "And he did make me feel good." You say before walking away, leaving him to deal with the truth.

Damon watched the tape all the way to the end, jaw tightening at the sight of him making a mess of your panties before signing off with his stupid message.

He would get his revenge on Liam another day. Right now, he was determined to prove you wrong. ✰ ✰ ✰

You were now on your knees on his command, Damon standing above you, reaching for the digital camera you two shared, setting it up.

"You wanna make a tape with someone else?" He stands above you, holding the camera in one hand and unbuttoning his trousers with the other. "We can make a better one."

After he finished watching the tape with you and Liam, he'd come in with this look in his eye, something between jealousy and possessiveness.

It made you a little turned on. You've never seen him like this before, so controlling and dominant.

"Since you want to be a slut," Damon says as he strokes his cock a few times before holding it to your lips. "You're going to suck my cock like one."

He pushes his cock past your pretty lips, groaning as he feels your wet mouth take him so obediently, looking at him with faux innocence.

You didn't need to be told what to do. You slowly moved your mouth on his cock, the camera capturing every second of it.

"That's it," He groans, growing harder while you take him in your mouth. "I bet this is what you wanted."

You moaned in response, the vibration causing him to slightly buck his hips, hitting the back of your throat. He moved your hair out of your face, wanting to get a better view.

You hollowed your cheeks and began to bob your head faster, never taking your eyes off of him once, looking at the camera and his reactions.

Your tongue ran along the underside of his cock, a slight whine escaping him as you started to take him deeper into your mouth.

Damon couldn't keep himself under control much longer. His grip in your hair tightened, moving to the back of your head to push you further down his cock, shoving himself down your throat.

Tears prickled at your eyes as you felt him bury himself, starting to fuck your throat without a care in the world, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth.

The camera picks up the ragged moans and curses he was letting out under his breath, cock twitching at how messy you looked.

"You're gonna take all of me when I come," He growls, watching you gag on his cock. "And you're gonna show everyone what a greedy slut you are."

Your throat constricted around his cock as he continued to drive himself into your mouth, eventually spilling deep into your throat.

He didn't pull out until you swallowed every last drop of him, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop and you gasping for air.

"Good girl," He caressed your cheek, the only time he would be praising you for the night. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Damon positioned the camera in the corner of the room, making sure it would be in view of you and the bed.

He lay back down on the bed before looking at you, lazily stroking his cock, getting hard again. "Come here."

You did as you were told, meeting him on the bed and straddling him without needing him to tell you, leaning forward to meet his lips.

But he stopped you before you could kiss him, grabbing your wrist. "Don't face me, face the camera."

Confused, you pulled away and turned your back to him to face the camera, feeling him guide you onto his lap from behind, kissing your neck the same way Liam did.

A whimper escaped you at the memory, but you replaced the image of Liam with Damon now, leaning your head back.

"Want you to ride me for the camera." He whispers in your ear, leaving marks where Liam's love bites had once been.

When he pulled away, you felt his hands guide your hips above his cock, helping you to sink down onto him, the smirk on his face growing when you gasped at the feeling.

The sight in front of the camera was filthy. You facing the camera, body already trembling with need, cunt taking his cock on full display.

"Fuck," Damon groans as you take him deep. "Still so warm and tight for me."

He placed his hands on your waist, guiding you as you slowly began to rock your hips against him, soft moans falling from your lips.

You felt exposed like this, cock dragging deliciously against your walls, riding his cock with ease from how wet you were.

"Don't be shy," Damon growled into your ear, beginning to nip at the skin of your neck again. "You weren't so shy with Liam, were you?"

"No." You answered, whimpering as he began to guide you to move faster, the tip of his cock brushing against your walls in search of your sweet spot.

"Look at you," He says from behind, eyes flicking between your face and the camera, capturing every moment. "Fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut."

As you began to move faster, your tits bounced from your movements, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

"Taking my cock so easily like the dirty whore you are." He groans against you, the grip on your hips tightening as he brings you down on him harder.

Damon's hips thrusted to meet yours, making you cry out at the feeling of him splitting you in half right in front of this camera.

"This is what happens when you decide to be a slut and make a tape with someone else," He slams into you harder, feeling your walls clench around him. "And I won't stop until you come."

The worst part about it all was that, even though he was punishing and ruthless in his pace, it only turned you on more.

Arousal dripped down his cock from how wet you were, squelching sounds mixing with your moans as he didn't let up in his pace once.

You cried out when you felt his cock brush against your sweet spot, moans turning into breathless pants as you felt the pressure building.

"Damon," You gasp. "I'm gonna come, please…" You beg, mind hazy with pleasure.

"You want to come?" He reaches over and starts to rub his thumb over your clit, making your legs tremble as you practically scream. "You gonna come for the camera?"

It was becoming too much. You were right on the edge, unable to hold back much longer as your walls fluttered around him. "Yes, Damon, please!"

"Go on then," He watches your face as he rubs your clit faster, thrusting into your sweet spot. "Let me see you come."

Your vision went white as your walls clenched hard around him, his name falling from your lips as he continued to fuck you.

His rhythm faltered as your orgasm washed over you, cock twitching against your fluttering walls as he chases his release.

"He didn't even come inside," He whispers in your ear with a devilish smirk, almost territorial. "What kind of man is he?"

And with that, Damon spilled himself hot and deep inside you, triggering another mini orgasm from you as he filled you up completely.

You stayed like that for a moment, still buried with him, head resting on his shoulder. Damon, on the other hand, had a satisfied look on his face. ✰ ✰ ✰

Damon held the tape in his hand, fully knowing what the contents of the videotape were.

He thinks about sending it to Liam as a form of payback, as a way of having the last laugh…but he decides not to.

He wasn't going to play into this little game Liam started, and sending it would only mean that he cared about you and Liam making a tape in the first place.

Instead, he laughs and sets the tape aside, saving it for a time when you and Damon would watch it together.

Liam would always keep wondering how Damon reacted.

Damon was satisfied with having the quiet victory.

Onstage, Damon paced from one end of the stage to the other, sleeves rolled up, hair sticking to his forehead. And everytime the crowd screamed he seemed thrilled, eyes moving everywhere. The lights changed from blue to red, washing over his features and sitting just right over his nose and eyebrows.

You zoomed in just as he turned his head slightly toward your side of the stage. For a second his eyes landed right on the camera. Your finger hesitated on the button.

Click.

Damon stepped back from the microphone, breathing heavily, one hand braced on his knee as if he needed a second to collect himself.

The lights dimmed.

You lowered your camera, blinking and looking to the crowd and glanced back toward the stage.

Damon was still there.

Most of the band had already disappeared backstage, but he lingered near the edge of the stage, wiping sweat from his face with the collar of his shirt. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath.

The music was gone now, replaced by inaudible voices of the audience leaving the venue. You lifted your camera strap over your shoulder and followed the guard around the side of the stage.

By the time you reached the dim backstage corridor, the adrenaline from the show was still buzzing through your body.

And at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with that same tired expression, was Damon.

Still flushed from the stage lights.

Still catching his breath.

Waiting.

“You’re the one with the camera now” His voice was quieter than it had been through the speakers. Rougher too, like the concert had scraped it raw. You knew he was referring to you being new to the team.

“Someone has to document the music”

“Did you get anything decent?” he asked with a small smile at the ends of his lips.

You scrolled through a few photos, turning the screen toward him. A shot of him mid-song under violet lights. Another of him leaning over the crowd, arm stretched toward the front row. He leaned closer to see.

“Not bad,” he murmured. His shoulder brushed yours slightly as he looked through the photos. Neither of you moved away right away until he did, turning on his heels and heading towards the endless corridor.

You stood there watching his back disappear into the distance with a weird feeling in your chest.

“The bus leaves in about twenty minutes,” A crew tapped your shoulder “You heading back with us?”

“Yeah. Need to upload these tonight.”

“Good”

Outside, the night air felt cool after the suffocating heat of the venue. The tour bus waited near the back door, people coming out and into the bus, loading, boxes in their arms.

You stepped into the bus. The inside was familiar to you: the cramped space the low yellow light, the narrow aisle, and the small faint of coffee and old carpet.

Most of the band and crew were still inside the venue finishing up, which meant the bus was almost empty.

You slipped into one of the seats near the front and pulled your laptop out, beginning to upload the photos.

A few minutes later the door hissed open again.

Damon stepped inside.

He paused when he noticed you were the only one there.

"Hello again" He slipped into a seat beside you, looking at your screen. Pictures of him sweating, his figure outlined by the gigantic screen behind him with the bands graphics, him under red lights mouth open mid-lyric.

“Let me see that one.” He was closer now. Close enough that his shoulder brushed yours once again when you turned the laptop slightly toward him. The bus lights were dim enough that the glow from your laptop screen painted the edges of his face in pale blue.

"Age is showing" He was so close you thought that you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Not so bad i would say" You said before you could think.

"You saying i look fit?" The warmth on your cheeks spread across your face and could even feel it on your neck. His soft laughter reached your ears as you failed to think of a response.

You look at him and god, his smile was doing things to your body and your eyes showed this as they traveled down to his hands resting on his thighs, the way his tattoos kissed his skin, and god the way his rings laid on his fingers.

Then up a little and you could see his chest rise and fall in sync with his breathing, up a little more and the tattoo of his neck, folded with the way he was turned to see your face, up a little and his earlobe with the earring, then to the side and the way his beard was perfectly contouring his lips and,

His eyebrows raised as he noticed your wandering eyes, a devilish smile creeping in.

You closed your eyes and cleared your throat looking towards the computer now "mmm, yeah, not bad" A blunt truth, there was not point in lying you knew he had caught you.

For a moment Damon didn’t say anything. The faint hum of the bus engine filled the space instead, along with shoes scraping the pavement outside.

Then he leaned back slightly in his seat. “Not bad” he repeated

You tried to focus on the screen again, pretending to check the upload bar. But you could still feel him looking at you.

"You always look at people like that?"

"Could say so, i'm a photographer" The lie almost made you shiver. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

A soft chuckle left him.

“No” he said, shaking his head slowly. “That wasn’t a photographer look.”

Your eyes lifted.

"oh, sorry" The red on your face was noticeable.

“Relax,” he murmured, leaning back into the seat again. “I’m not offended.”

“Good,” you said quickly, turning your attention back to the screen.

The upload bar finished with a quiet sound.

Saved.

Posted.

Job technically done.

“You know,” Damon said, stretching one arm along the back of the seat behind you, “most photographers I’ve met don’t get flustered that easily.”

You looked over at him again.

“I’m not flustered.”

“Right.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the warmth still lingering on your cheeks before returning to your eyes and going back down to your lips.

You swallowed and stopped breathing, you know he noticed. Of course he did.

“Well,” he said softly, “if you like what you see.”

Your breath caught.

“Maybe I do.” The words slipped out before you could think them.

Damon’s eyebrows lifted slightly in quiet surprise, but he didn’t pull away. He leaned a little closer. His hand lifted from the seat behind you, brushing lightly against your arm as he shifted.

The touch was like an electric shock that shifted the entire vibe, the air felt heavier, and you felt as if your movements were delayed a few seconds.

Damon glanced toward the back of the bus where the crew’s voices were still echoing faintly down the aisle, Then back at you.

“You know,” he said quietly, “this is probably a terrible idea.”

“Probably" Neither of you moved away. The dim bus lights catching in his eyes. You just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Then he leaned in. Slowly enough that you had time to stop him.

You didn’t.

His hand settled gently against the side of your neck as his lips brushed yours. They were soft at first, almost testing, and when he felt that you didn't pull away, his lips settled further into yours. Slipping his tongue inside caressing your bottom lip. Then you felt him smile slightly against your mouth, like he’d been expecting that reaction.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you again you fisted your hands to keep you from reaching to his hair and pull him closer.

"That was definitely not professional.” Your voice was a whisper against his lips.

You could hear the voice of the band. and crew talking behind you and Damon seemed to as well, he glanced briefly over his shoulder toward the curtain separating the front seats from the bunks.

Then he looked back at you.

Someone’s footsteps thudded down the aisle toward the bunks.

“Right” he muttered and leaned back a little rubbing the back of his neck as if reminding himself to breathe.

Another slow smile crept onto his face.

“You know,” he said quietly, leaning a little closer again, “tour buses aren’t exactly known for privacy.” The crew´s voices continued behind you, answering for you.

“No” you said. "They aren’t.”

Your eyes drifted briefly down the aisle, towards the small door near the front of the bus. He knew what you were looking at. His eyebrows lifted slightly and you shrugged with a smile, talking without words.

He stared at you for a second like he was deciding whether you were joking but you could see it in his eyes. The way he had alredy made a decision.

Damon stood up slowly from the seat, stretching slightly as if trying to look casual about it.

“Excuse me a second,” he said, loud enough that anyone in the back might hear.

Three seconds passed before you were standing too, your footsteps quiet on the narrow aisle.

When you slipped inside, the space was barely bigger than a closet: dim light, metal sink, the faint smell of soap and road dust.

The door had barely closed before another hand caught it pulling the door shut again with a quiet click.

The tiny bathroom suddenly felt very, very small.

“This is an incredibly bad idea.” As soon as the words left his mouth his lips were on you, caught your mouth in a kiss, groaning low in his throat when you opened up beautifully under him. The pace this time was fast and intense, with his hands settled into your waist making your legs shiver when they went underneath your shirt.

He loved the way you melt into his touch when he pushed you into the sink and reached one hand to loosely circle your throat. The hardness you feel makes your mouth open in a gasp and he takes that moment to grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head.

"You look so pretty" He says watching you blink slowly with a breathless laugh.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and pulls them down, pooling in your ankles. He doesn't waste any time to crouch and get his face between your legs, opening his mouth to the fabric of your already soaked panties.

The faint taste of you makes him groan against your core as he gets a finger pulling the panties aside and lowering his tongue tasting you fully. The feel of his wet and warm mouth makes your kness buckle, gripping the sink tighter when he starts sucking and licking on your clit.

You try to be quiet with your moans and as a result heavy breaths fill the bathroom and still being to loud to be doing this in a bus. Damon notices this at the same time as you, and reaches an arm up until he's got his hand pressing into your mouth.

It doesn't take long for him to make you orgasm, your knees shaking.

"God" He whispers as he slowly gets up from his crouched position when you start whining in overstimulation. His hand leaves your mouth and a moan immediately leaves your lips. "You're gonna get us caught"

He doesn't seem to care much either way, when he leans forward to kiss you. Its messy and you struggle to catch up. He pulls away with a sigh when you palm him through his pants.

“Just want you.” You say looking at him with needy eyes. He held your face in his hands, admiring how senseless you were already. He traced his thumb over your lips before leaving it in my mouth, hoping to stifle your ever growing noise.

Without warning, he began to unzip his trousers, not allowing any time to recover from your past orgarsm. He was already leaking hopelessly, all for you, just to break you apart once again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said and you nodded rapidly.

 He held onto you as you began to feel him inside of you, he cursed under his breath as he gives you a moment to get used to him before he settles a satisfying rhythm. It shakes you to the core and you grip his shoulders tightly enough to make your fingers hurt.

You cried out as he slammed into you mercilessly, your hips lifted ever so slightly leaving him almost whimpering in your ear. Your whole body shuddering underneath him, begging for a release.

“Please”, You cried out helplessly, unable to form a proper sentence. With a slight smirk he began to speed up, his thrusts becoming more rapid, his insatiable desire evident in every move. He held you still with his hand on your throat.

He never stopped, even as you moaned deeply, every part of you overwhelmed with your second orgasm, feeling him almost collapse as he spilled deep inside of you.

He unwound his fingers from your throat, sliding them into your cleavage, with a smile he tried to hide in the side of you neck leaving wet kisses.

It was quiet. Quiet enough that you couldn’t help the tightness growing in your chest as you sat just across from Damon. He had decided to take you on holiday to the countryside earlier this year than he had on previous occasions, leaving you to assume it was for some special reason of his.

Unfortunately, he had barely paid you any mind this whole trip; already a few days in & he’d been ever so ‘busy with work’, as he often excused himself to. It was no lie, of course, but it made you feel quite lonesome considering this whole thing had been his idea, only recently accepting that he may have just wanted a change of scenery & decidedly thought you should tag along. How sweet of him, you guessed.

Last week, you had been left to wander among the flora unremarkable in comparison to the kind at home, that is, whenever you weren’t sitting somewhere catching up on any reading. And despite granting you a much-needed break from life, this mundane trip had planted a single revelation in you: you’ve felt very lonely for very long. Yes, you had friends & family & felt all-around ‘loved’ by them, but they didn’t call. They didn’t ask for you outside of holidays or the rare chance one of them remembered your birthday. You hated to admit it, but Damon really was your only good friend, even if he minded his own business most of the time.

It was common for you to get home from work eariler than him, tending to yourself & your hobbies in the meantime. But you always made sure to be the one to open the front door for him when he’d work himself overtime, knowing it’s what you would want someone to do for you if the roles were reversed.

You lived for the way his eyes would widen in delight knowing you worried over him, the certain hushed tone in his voice telling you everything was alright and that you should get some rest. Sometimes his glassy eyes would crinkle on par with that lopsided smile of his which made your heart twist — albeit it was more often than you’d like to believe that he'd miss a peck on your mouth before rushing to his ‘office’.

And of course, it wasn’t the usual office that came with the usual man. In the same way Damon sees himself in monkeys, you could say the room is only befitting of a jungle. The first thing anyone would notice once entering could be the cables and amps wiring the room’s frame. If it weren’t for Damon’s keen tidiness, you were sure he wouldn’t have nearly as many guests over to work on songs with him.

Pushed against the walls themselves were a variety of keyboards mounted on one another wherever there wasn't a bookshelf blocking the deep-colored wallpaper. You knew better than to question how many instruments a musician needed; the synths all looked the same to you but he proved time and time again the orchestra they could become. And despite not entirely understanding the functions of his world, you paid him the best attention you could when he’d allow himself to mouth on about amplifiers, modulators, oscillators, all the things he likely knew better than himself. In fact, that very enthusiasm was one of the many reasons you loved him.

With all of the things he's experienced, you could say he was much more of a prospective optimist than you could ever be, & that in on itself was easy to grow dependent on, so while you could assume most couples simmer out of that electric romance after the first number of weeks - it was a natural occurence & even expected - with him it had been sickeningly constant. Something best compared to having one more smoke before bed. Hazardous in the long run, sure, but you could live with drowning in the sharpened infatuation for another night. It wasn’t as if it weren’t reciprocated anyway; he was incredibly vocal about you, & even moreso touchy - which should have been impossible for someone like him.

It ate you alive knowing that there was no partner the universe could have assigned to you more doting than he, yet here you were, always craving away. You assumed it had to be some fourth, secret law of Newton's solely to validate yourself - you know, the more Damon gave, the more you wanted. It was a never-ending ache you felt for his touch, his tone, frankly, just the idea of him. All you knew was that it wouldn’t change if your distance expanded by countries or a few cushions on a sofa.

⋆˙⟡

Now, at the current moment, you were engulfed in said silence with one of your favourite novels open in hand. The pages were yellowed and worn, common for the state of most things you tend to love. You cherished your ever-growing collection of novels, especially those you sought out from your youth. This particular story, you would call a classic, but any book is entitled to be appropriated as such if it's read by any notable scholar. It was a comfortable hardcover you’ve had for a most of your life, Damon, on the other hand, had been entertaining his silver slab beacon of leisure since he’d returned from some session of sorts.

It annoyed you how much he used that thing. You would never tell him, but it was near ridiculous that he had to bring it absolutely everywhere. Excusing himself to a fear of phones - as if the ipad wasn’t worse, being thrice the size of one.

The television hadn’t been put on at all tonight, so the constant digital clicks of his screen & your rare flip of a thinned page was all that had kept you company outside of your thoughts. Your gaze occasionally falling on his hands - the way he’d hold the side of the tablet, his fingers stroking the surface of the lit screen, enthralled in his own world. It was kind of impressive, the position his hand was in to hold it. You know, it probably didn't weigh like much to him. It was the same as when he played guitar; the thick cords never seeming to sting him after ages of playing. Or the way they'd caress you during sunrise. He had always preferred having you during daybreak - he had a certain palate for the heady warmth of it all.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t read a sentence in ages. Actually, you couldn’t recall what you had been skimming for the past couple of minutes, if anything. The cool air that arrived with dusk didn’t help either. You were sure he was cold too; he had to be. Or maybe he was perfectly warm right now & that’s why he hadn’t mentioned a thing.

You couldn’t make out what he was looking at from your position on the couch, the serene look on his face alone blooming a buoyancy throughout your chest. You wanted to be upset at him so badly but he looked so sweet sitting there, ignoring you, periodically reacting to whatever it was he was reading. 

You scoffed at your own ridiculous train of thought, Damon asking if you were alright a moment later.

"Don’t remember that book being one to laugh at."

Your eyes artlessly shifted back onto your pages, arms crossed tightly across your torso in attempts to seal in both the cold bitterness escaping you and the bitter cold seeping through your pijamas. Part of you didn’t want him to question you, already being irritated as is, but the other half was praying he’d notice.

"Just something I remembered."

Neither of you spoke for the moment; you, watching him watch you from the corner of your eye before he absentmindedly returned to whatever he must’ve found more important.

Over the course of the following few minutes, you sighed & puffed an uncomfortable amount until you finally picked yourself up & off the sofa.

"You going to bed?" he dared question. Was he aware of your mood and ignoring it? Or was he simply this oblivious? You decided it didn't matter.

"Yeah, I'm feeling tired." Your brows narrowed into one another until you disappeared down the hall. You should’ve kissed him goodnight, or at least told him so. 

You shook your head at the thought. He could’ve told you goodnight himself if he really cared. What you really needed was some alone time to cool off.

⋆˙⟡

You tossed your novel onto the bed, an unintentional burst of energy missing it by the ledge & of course the floor had to be just brash enough to make its tumble overly loud. You noticed the downpour outside once clicking the door shut. Damn it, you forgot to close the window this morning.

You were too exhausted at this point to go back out there for paper towels, so you sauntered to your side of the bed, a small puddle at the windowsill & a hand at your forehead.

The cardboard seams of the novel’s cover had absorbed whatever water was left when you delicately lifted it from the ground. Thank goodness it had only fallen face-up. The pages were still recoverable if you left it somewhere warm to dry, nice and spread open.

You looked behind you towards the door & back to the book. You hadn’t noticed immediately, but some of the middlemost pages had begun to smear & stick with grog. You sniffled before throwing the book entirely into the bin next to the bed. Gosh what an idiot. Sure, you could find another copy elsewhere. Just because it had years of notes within its margins didn't mean it was one of a kind. Every copy is a 'one of a kind' if you really thought about it. You shut the window & tucked yourself under the blanket. All alone, though not long enough to cope.

Maybe you had been drifting back and forth from a state of slumber but you could swear you hadn’t had a nearly respectable amount of peace tonight. You were already facing the door by the time Damon came in. 

"Sorry, I thought you were asleep." The blue light beneath him emitted off his growing stubble as the door closed. God did you think it looked good on him. His cool eyes hidden by the bloody glare of the tablet reflecting off his glasses. You forced yourself to look away. 

"I heard something a bit ago."

'Yeah who didn't,' you thought.

"You know, I don’t know what it is I’ve done wrong but it’s not exactly helping if all you’ll do is avoid me."

He sat himself at the end of the bed in front of you, beginning to coax a response from you as soon as his hand met your covered thigh. It pissed you off how easily he could fold you despite your withstanding efforts. A breath escaped your nose - maybe out of guilt for worrying him. As much as you wanted to blame him, he likely couldn’t guess exactly what was up with you.

"Oh, what happened there? Is that-"

You followed his gaze, a huff escaping you, "It got soaked by the rain."

"That rain?" he gestured to the storm behind the glass. His attempt at humour only made your guilt sink deeper. The sound of drops hitting the window was suddenly interrupted by a notification.

"Damon, please, could you stay?" 

The least he could do was let you bask in his attention before bed. 

You motioned to the smooth, slim shape lying flat & open on his lap, still glowing against the hollow depth of the room. "Being on that all the time can't be good for you, you know." 

He didn’t respond immediately, instead changing his seating, pensively. His tone was comforting despite the concern etching itself onto his face.

"You know I use it for work. I don't talk to any women if you're-"

"No, wow-" you interrupted, "that’s not it at all." 

Thinking he was cheating on you hadn’t even crossed your conscience; you knew what kind of man he was. Well, maybe now that his mate got divorced for being caught doing so, you should keep an eye on him. Birds of a feather or whatever.

"You spend a whole lot of time on that ipad in general, Damon." you began, feeling a familiar sort of dreadful heat creep up your face as you avoided him. Now that you were saying it out loud it sounded quite ridiculous compared to his first reasoning.

"Sometimes I feel like you don’t realise I’m around when you’re on it. Or that I’m just not decent enough company."

His palm stroked up your thigh comfortingly as he thought, pouting his mouth. And just as you were beginning to enjoy his presence for the first time since this holiday, it surprised you how promptly Damon put his tablet away, cutting your thoughts point blank as he ran his hands through his face & made his way back to you.

"I love you, you know that?" he took your hands in his, making sure he was in your orbit. 

You nodded.

"Do you?"

"Yes," you promised back, though he only shook his head with a newfound determination.

"Can’t have you being jealous of an ipad. D’you know how that sounds?" His whole body was in bed now, making you move over to give him space. "Makes it sound like I ignore the love of my life." 

The confidence with which he said that swelled your heart near the point of forgetting your whole one-sided conflict. He pulled you in, body pressed to your side as his hand waltzed along your figure, chin grazing on your shoulder, leaving you with an immense gratefulness that he ever put up with you.

"I’m sorry if I made it seem like I’ve been neglectful; it’s been a hectic couple of months," He kneaded your hip & looked at you so sweetly you would’ve thought you were a slice of pie. Pecan, maybe, if you considered yourself a nutcase.

It was quiet between the two of you for a moment & a moment only, the room’s chill leniently blocked by Damon’s steady proximity.

“Why don’t we spend tomorrow together, alright?” he mumbled to you.

“We should spend tonight together, actually.” The look on your face pulled a stifled laugh from him.

“We have been spending every night together.”

“You know what I meant. Please?” your hand met at his wrist & you couldn’t even imagine the expression crossing your eyes. Only that his own misty ones divulged a general idea.

“I don’t know.. I need to wake up early tomorrow & we’re up late as is.”

“On holiday?” you pressed.

“You look exhausted.”

“Are you making up excuses now?” you gasped a chuckle in retort & he exhaled. You knew you've felt absolutely drained for the past couple of days, but taking the time to make love to you would easily assure you of his standing. 

“Tomorrow morning,” His arm wrapped around you with means to convince you. “Promise.”

☆ Don’t even bother buying your own pyjamas. You’re forever swiping one of his old, thin Corduroy button-downs or a battered Fred Perry polo. They’re a bit scratchy, but they smell properly of him—faint tobacco and old vinyl—and he’s right chuffed seeing them hanging off your shoulders.

☆ Graham isn't one for grand, cinematic declarations, but in the sack, he’s pure sugar. Before dousing the bedside lamp, he’d lean in for that signature nose-to-nose bump. He’s not one for performative PDA, but in the quiet of the bedroom, he’s the softest man alive. He’d mutter a muffled, sleepy "night, love" against your temple.

☆ Even when he’s knackered, his hands are never still. While you’re settling in, he’ll spend ages tracing patterns on the back of your hand or absent-mindedly playing with the hem of your shirt. It’s like he’s trying to memorise the texture of your skin, his fingers moving with that same restless, twitchy energy he has on stage, but infinitely more gentle.

☆ The human radiator. Seriously, the man is a furnace. In the dead of winter, it’s a godsend; in the summer, it’s a total nightmare. He’s got a habit of tucking his freezing feet under your calves just to hear you shriek, flashing you that cheeky, gap-toothed grin when you try to kick him off.

☆ He’s a massive nuzzler. He likes to bury his face right in the crook of your neck, his messy fringe tickling your skin. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing slowing down as he settles, his long, knobby fingers loosely interlaced with yours under the duvet.

☆ The morning after Waking up to find him already staring at you, eyes soft and sleepy behind a curtain of messy hair. No words, just him pulling you closer, his chin resting on top of your head. He’s content to stay in the "haze" of the bed for as long as possible before the rest of the world—and Damon’s frantic phone calls —inevitably catches up to him.

The sharp sound making his ears perk up. He couldn't see her through the darkness of the room, but he could feel her fast paced pulse as he held her wrist in his hand.

"Liam, what- why are you here?" Bagging away from her brother's body, she sat up against the headboard. Her feet kicking Damon's shirt off the mattress in the process.

"I though you were dead," Liam said carefully, drawing the curtains to the side to let the light in.

Squinting her eyes at the bright sight, her eyes started to burn again. Damon's empty cup still sat on the window sill. No one took care of it when things broke apart and for a moment she wondered if it would be the same if they had a child. Hitting her head against the palms of her hands, she beat the thoughts out of her head. Stomach churning in despair at the memory of them having a conversation about a potential future. How Liam would try to kill Damon for getting his sister pregnant and how Noel would try holding him back just to see whether Damon was as big of a fuck up as he always seemed to be. He promised her he wouldn't be, not when it came to her. He wouldn't run when it came to them.

But he did. Dashing through the door the moment the press became the slightest idea of him being bound to her. Just a picture of them leaving the same party was enough to make him leave her. What would it have been if they were seen on a date? Strolling through Paris hand in hand, watching the Eiffel Tower at midnight. Exchanging and sharing gelato in Venice or Rome. Sitting on the balcony of their shared hotel room after a night out in Vienna. Her drawing a map of all the places she wanted to visit, reenacting different scenes from 'Before Sunrise'.

The endless pictures she still saved in a photo album at the back of her closet. Most of them being him. Damon running towards her after being in the ocean, tanned body and wet hair. Damon laying in her bed in the early morning hours when she woke up from him mumbling incoherent words. Making dinner after a show. Backstage at a Blur concert. Sneaking away after a award show. Hiding in the crowd of an Oasis gig. Dressing up for Halloween. Unwrapping gifts on Christmas. Watching cliche romcoms over the holidays. Photobooth stripes. Receipts she kept because he'd written a little note on it. Souvenirs he bought her when he was on tour.

Memories that she wanted to burn but now they were hurting forever.

It had all been a game, a way for adrenaline to pump through his veins instead of boredom for once. They played chess but all her figures were on his side before they even started. Token and promised by desire. Lust fueling her eyes as she let him cheat and rob her of her win.

"I'm fine," she said, leaning her head back, biting her tears back. Chewing on the inside of her cheek to keep the sob from escaping. Her fingers fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater - his sweater. It was no good to keep him as close as she did, but he made the heartbreak feel a bit less lonely.

"You're not." Liam shook his head, slowly approaching her side like she was a wounded animal he tried his best not to scare off. Sitting next to her, arm thrown over her shoulder. Pulling her into his chest, he let her break. Taking all of it and not scaring away from the sharp edges that hurt. "You're not fine but that's alright. You don't have to be fine all the time. Just be you."

Curling into his side, she came undone. Falling into the pieces she desperately tried to hold together. Thin arms wrapping around his body, shaking from emotions.

"Have yer eaten anything?"

Silence took over. Answering for her while she wept.

"I'll make yer summat." Pulling her up with him, the light blinded her as she was dragged out of her room by Liam. Falling into the cushion of her sofa and groaning in agony.

He didn't leave her out of his sight, making sure she was still suffering but also still alive. The red underneath her eyes running through her whole face. Marking the stress and skin texture she normally tried to cover up. The ones she'd shown without much regret the last couple of months. Something he still couldn't explain without going crazy. She'd always hated the slight acne and dark spots in her face, why did it change all of a sudden?

"Who is it?" Liam asked, sitting down next to her, handing her the poorly made sandwich he made her.

She didn't answer, still not talking to her. Her lips nipped at the crust of the bread, taking little pieces off of it like a mouse. Too afraid to admit that she was caught by the cat so now she ate her own death sentence.

"It's no one important," she mumbled, falling more into herself as she told him the lies that she tried convincing herself of for the past days.

"No one important? If they weren't important, you wouldn't be looking like a fucking rain cloud." Throwing his arms up in the air in exaggerated movements, he felt bad when seeing her muscles flinch but he couldn't help himself. "I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not." The feud wasn't one between only the two of them. All of Britain was in on it. Everyone rooting for another side. "You'll only make it worse. Please just stay here."

And he did, falling into rhythms he remembered from their childhood, buying groceries, asking Peggy for recopies of her favourite meals. He did it all without her having to ask him too, something Damon wouldn't have found in himself to do for her.

By Friday, she was walking around their newly shared space again. Helping him with the dishes after having Noel over for dinner and laughing like her heart was still beating. It slowly came back to life.

Standing next to him beneath the low kitchen light, memories came in floods.

"Do you think anyone could ever want me the way I want to be wanted?"

Liam's head snapped over to her. The glass in his hands slipping back into the soapy water. Clinking against the metal of the sink but not breaking.

"There are so many people who love you," he answered. His never have never been softer.

"I know but," she cut herself off, gripping the kitchen counter, trying to find the right words. "I don't just want to be loved, I want to be wanted. Every morning and every night. I want to be more than just a lover to someone, I want to be someone's everything."

"It's Albarn, isn't it?" Liam went back to cleaning the glasses. Avoiding her gaze that burned marks into the side of his face.

"What? How do you- Has he told you anything?" The panic that rose in her eyes said more than she ever could.

"No, he didn't." Shaking his head, Liam pulled a picture out of his pocket. Damon's passport picture that she kept in her wallet before he left. "Found it in your notebook. It slipped out while I cleaned up."

"Liam, I- I never wanted to embarrass you." The words came out choked as she held her hand in front of her mouth. Stifling the sobs that came with his name.

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her into his chest. Kissing the top of her neck as he felt her tears treating through his shirt, soaking his skin in her sadness now too.

"You could never, I just wish you told me. That cunt should know to never mess with a Gallagher."

Noel called them the next afternoon, inviting them to the pub down the street for a few drinks and a night out to get her mind off of things. He wasn't aware of what Liam knew now, but he didn't need to be to care.

"It'll be fun, come on. Just for an hour or two then we can go back and you can do nothing at all again," Liam said, throwing her her leather jacket as she struggled with her shoelaces.

The pub was filled to the prim, drunk guys already yelling and stumbling around the space. Noel had saved them a corner booth, far away from the chaos but still near enough to quieten her thoughts. Three pints already ordered and set out on the table. He greeted her like nothing was wrong, like it was just a normal family get together.

One pint turned into two and by the third, her eyes flew over the masses as Liam told a story about some guy he met on the road. His mind was in another world while he quoted the lad, still he noticed her smile falling. Her fingers tensing around her glass, eyes fixated on something across the room.

Both brothers followed her gaze though only one could see what she saw.

Damon was sitting in a booth with some of his friends, head tipped back as he stared at her like she was only a dream. A fidget of his imagination he couldn't believe has become reality. He could see the sadness in her eyes, it reflected his own hurt. The regret and love flooding his nerve system.

Stuck in a fight or flight situation he pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and disappearing through the small exit at the back of the building.

"The fuck does he want?" Noel muttered, not reacting quick enough to stop Liam as he sprung from his seat. Dashing through the place like he was chasing a murderer. Confused he stared after him, calling out to him but with no success.

"Stay here," she told him, getting up as well. "We'll be right back." And then she was gone too, leaving Noel with nothing but questions in his head.

Outside the pub, in a quiet back alley, Liam was already yelling at Damon before the door fully closed behind him.

"You fucking cunt! Yer really think that I'll let you get away with what you've done, huh? You think I'm stupid?" Pushing his body up against the wall, fist tight on his collar, Damon didn't look surprised. Glancing down in shame he knew what he'd done. It only fueled Liam more.

Inching closer, his breath ragged against the side of Damon's face. Knuckles pressing into the side of his throat. His breaths falling heavier now. "You know that she's been starving over you? You know that she was barely able to walk when I found her because you fucking bastard weren't willing to take care of her?"

"I- I didn't- I never wanted to-" Damon stuttered as his heart fell out of his chest. The truths he tried to ignore now screaming right in his face. The loose dress that once fitted like a second skin over her skin. The dark hollow holes where her eyes once shone when looking at him. The constant picking and fiddling she'd done throughout the ceremony.

"Of course you didn't want to, but you did it. Regardless of that bullshit yer telling me, she deserves a fucking apology not me."

The door sounded, falling shut as a new pair of feet interrupted their silence. Both boys looking her way as she scrambled over the pavement over to her brother. Pulling him away from Damon, whose knees buckled as his heels touched the ground again. Damon looked her way, trying to catch a glimpse of her eyes but she had her back turned to him. Already dragging Liam towards the entrance again, muttering swear words he couldn't understand. Some Gaelic words she learned from her relatives in Ireland that she could use without facing the consequences.

"Hey, please. Hear me out," he called after her. Starting to move towards them as Liam's head snapped around. His feet already moving Damon's way with fire in his eyes. He wanted to burn him but she held him back.

Looking between the two boys, she told Liam, "Go back inside. I'll be okay." Pushing him into the direction of the entrance, they watched as he reluctantly walked away from them. Liam's eyes drained on Damon, his fingers moving over his neck, threatening him not to make her cry again.

"Nothing you can say could turn this around," she warned him. Silently begging him to make it quick so she could go back to her comfort people. Stab her once affectively to never hurt her ever again.

"I'm not here to beg for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it," he started, stepping closer. Smoke pooling out of his mouth as he spoke. "I just want you to know that I loved you, I always have and always will. There is just nothing in me that could make me stay. At least not with everything else that is going on at the moment."

And when looked over her shoulder, she knew what he meant.