cw: pet play; softdom!reader; praise kink; unprotected sex; creampie. // sub90s!noel – somno; oral; dacryphilia; established relationship; orgasm denial. // sub90s!liam – public-ish; cum play; face slapping; slight choking.
wn: okay so i’ve never written pet play before.. i tried to do this as realistically as i could… gulp. hope u like it! thanks to the lovely @missbeatlegrl for helping me out with the liam one <3
while noel never had any desire to conceal that he’s a cunt, he’s never been against the fact that his missus is sunshine in a fucking jar, either.
he was proud of it, really. that weird, smug flutter inside his chest only grew whenever someone would come up to you, thinking it would be easy to swipe you off your feet just because you were kind and sweet – only to watch the lad wipe the smirk right off his face the second noel’s hand found your waist, his piercing blue eyes making the man stammer before fucking right off.
the night of the party, he left the house pissed. he thinks it’s reasonable, any man wouldn’t like his pretty girlfriend walking around inside a venue looking like a playboy bunny.
you had the ears, the corset, the fluffy little tail and the boyfriend with smoke coming out of his ears. while noel was dressed as… well, himself. he couldn’t be arsed to put anything on other than what he’d normally wear on a saturday night.
it took you a while to get back in his good graces, and a few beers. at first, he held your hand despite having a scowl on his face. nearly an hour later, you pampered his cheeks with kisses, not minding him mumbling curses under his breath even though his cheeks were marked with your pink lipstick.
what really broke him was when a friend of his teased: “what are you supposed to be, noel? yourself?”
and before he could tell him to fuck off, you cut right in.
“he’s hugh hefner.” you replied sweetly, arms wrapping around his waist and chest pressing against his side, nearly spilling out of the tight corset. “and in his bunny, aren’t i, baby?” you added, leaning in and pressing a kiss on his jaw.
god, you know him too well. and he’s too fucking easy when it comes to you.
because of that night, it started as an inside joke, almost. and not the way you’d think, either.
because five minutes after that small interaction, he had already tagged down the driver, opening the door for you so you two could go home. urgently in need to sort out the neediness only growing inside his pants.
inside the car, you didn’t waste your time, you never did after a few drinks.
your thigh was over his lap, fingers were deeply tangled in his hair while you let his tongue claim yours. his palms were firm and greedy on your body, groping your tits and your ass without even caring that the driver would listen to your pretty whimpers.
his mouth shifted until it landed on your neck, greedily kissing and sucking the soft skin. you giggled, despite being breathier, needier by the second – you could feel him smirking against your neck at the sound. a silent sign of a truce.
your fingers played with his hair, chest heaving as you tugged it softly, just so you could look at his face. he looked so pretty like this, lips in a deeper shade of pink from kissing and cheeks flushed, while his eyes admired you right back even with his pupils swallowing the blue.
your hand slid down to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. “my angry little bunny.” you purred, teasing and aroused.
he scoffed lightly, shaking his head. his reaction made you bite down a laugh, hands moving and picking up your bunny ears, placing it on his head, ignoring the silent protest.
his hand even moved to take it off, maybe toss it on the other side of the backsteat and pull you into his lap with a grunt. but you were quicker, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand closer to your mouth, pampering his knuckles with kisses until your lips were wrapped around his fingers.
as your tongue slowly lapped his fingers, your hand moved towards his clothed bulge. his lips fell further agape as you pressed your palm over it, softly mapping out his length as you sucked his fingers – showing him a little preview of he was about to get right in the backsteat of his chocolate-brown rolls royce.
a small trail of spit connected your lips to his fingers as you slowly pulled them out, free hand undoing the belt of his trousers. you smirked wider at his hips bucking in anticipation, at his head falling back into the leathered rest, the fluffy bunny ears bending softly against the seat.
you leaned in, tongue lapping his pulse point at the same time your hand slid inside his underwear, wasting no time in wrapping your palm around him and slowly stroking.
“were you needy, bunny? hm?… that’s why you were mad?” you whispered in his ear, feeling his hips bucking into your hand at the same time his arm wrapped tighter around your shoulder, his free hand gripping the door until his knuckles whitened.
you kissed his cheek, gentle despite the condescending tone that got his tip leaking inside his trousers. “gonna make you feel good… no need to be mad, love…” muffled against his jaw, your fingers curled into the waistband of his trousers, tugging it down at the same time his lips lifted.
in the backseat of his far too expensive car, grumpy noel gallagher wore fuzzy white and pink bunny ears as you sucked him off. not even managing to gain his cockiness back, only breathing out broken little words as his hips sloppily thrusted inside your mouth.
since then, calling noel “bunny” became an inside thing. he wouldn’t call it a joke, exactly. other jokes didn’t make blood rush to his cheeks – or his cock, that would pathetically throb every time the nickname sweetly slipped out of your mouth.
one day, noel had arrived home after the shittiest day of his year so far. liam had been on his ass all day and bonehead only egged him on, making nothing good come out of his frustrated tired brain. an entire day wasted in the studio.
every second that passed, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to go home. all he wanted was to bury himself inside his sweet girl so badly his head ached.
the second he pushed the door of your home open, his eyes began to look for any sign of you. but it was too late for you to be in the living room watching the telly, or in the kitchen preparing something for him.
he sighed, kicking his shoes off and immediately padding towards the bedroom. he found you there, with steady breathing and so cozy inside the blankets he could die at the sight.
his brows were softly furrowed as he got rid of his shirt, eyes dragging over the outline of your body underneath the duvet. then, his hands got rid of his trousers, feeling his neediness only grow at the sight he’s been dreaming about all day.
he laid down, slipping underneath the blanket and fitting beside you like a puzzle. he told himself all he needed was to feel you, inhale your scent and feel your warmth.
he leaned in until his nose was buried inside your hair, hips pressing closer to your ass and chest glued to your back. then, his hand moved, at first sprawling his fingers on the curve of your waist, just to pull you impossibly closer.
with a shaky exhale, his hand shifted upwards, kneading your tits over the thin fabric of your top – his mouth immediately parting against the curve of your shoulder, leaving a damp spot as he breathed out, warm and shaky.
he realized it wasn’t enough, placing a kiss there before pulling the cover off your body, swallowing gruffly as he shifted between your legs.
your thighs were bare, the only thing barely covering your cotton knickers being the hem of his large shirt you wore. he leaned in with a quiet whimper, placing a soft kiss on your covered clit – letting his lips linger while slowly rutting his hips into the mattress.
his nose pressed down on your soft clothes mound, parting his lips with a soft exhale as your scent filled his nostrils. his fingers were shaky as they hooked into the fabric, feeling the natural dampness underneath his touch as he tugged it to the side.
he breathed in deeply as he saw the most intimate part of you – and yet, one that fully belonged to him. his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, stroking your folds with one long, wet lick. his brows furrowed in pleasure at your taste, breath hitching as he wrapped his lips around your clit.
his breath hitched as he slowly kissed your clit, head tilting as he let his tongue drag lazily over you. his free hand settled on your hip, softly squeezing it as he kissed your cunt.
his mouth didn’t work on you the way it did whenever determined to get you off, you weren’t really awake, were you? besides, his brain was far too hazy to focus on the spots that always got you cumming right over his tongue.
he moaned quietly against you, hand gripping your hip harder as he started to slowly loose himself in it. noel’s head tilted softly to the side, his hair softly brushing the top of your thigh.
he pulled away with an unsteady breath, lips pink and slick with you as he guided his fingers towards your lips – softly spreading them, taking a deep breath at the sight.
noel leaned in once more, greedier now. his mouth was messy, borderline desperate. so starving for you he allowed his drool to gather up, sucking and licking every drop of it, pressing his mouth even firmer as it mixed with your own arousal.
his hand softly squeezed your hip once he felt you stirr, a small line forming between his brows and eyes getting glassier as you sleepily grinded over his tongue. noel thrusted again into the mattress as he heard your sleepy mumbles, far too gone to even be apologetic about it.
your fingers sliding inside his hair pulled an involuntary moan out of him. tangling into the messy brown locks, gently but firmly pulling his head back just enough to force him to pause.
"slow down, bunny…" you murmured, your voice thick and honey-sweet with sleep.
his breath hitched at the nickname, chest heaving as he tried to swallow down a sob of pure relief. "sorry... 'm sorry…" noel mumbled against your skin, muffled. he sounded so small it made your heart melt.
your fingers stroked through his hair, your palm velvet smooth as it slid down his temple, then his cheek – gentle stroking with your thumb, brushing his cheekbone and underneath his eye. "bad day?…” you asked softly.
he nodded. you nodded back, petting his hair – a silent, comforting “i know.”
then, your hand gently cupped the back of his head, legs slowly parting wider as you pulled him closer. he closed the distance again with a soft moan, vibrating through your body as his wet mouth wrapped around you again. slower this time.
you hummed softly, head tilting as you watched him through sleepy eyes. fingers still petting his hair, “just wanted a taste, didn’t you…”
he pulled away, barely a millimeter, rasping out a shaky and needy “yeah, yeah” against your folds. so quiet you nearly couldn’t make it out, muffled with the wet sounds of his mouth kissing your clit, whimpering against you.
you hummed. “course you did… you’re so good to me…” tone quiet and so gentle it made his eyes squeeze tighter shut, a small tear forming in the corner from how badly he’s been needing to hear it.
“such a good bunny...” you praised, voice still hushed from sleep.
a soft, pathetic sob immediately caught on his throat at your words. “mhm… i know…” you cooed him, nodding softly, like you expected that exact reaction. “come up here,” you instructed in a whisper, as soft as your fingers running through his hair.
his body shook as he crawled up yours, aching with desperation. his fingers were clumsy as he tugged the waistband of his underwear down, a trail of pre cum connecting his tip to the fabric, invisible in the darkness of the room.
he didn’t push the fabric all the way down, not when your palm rested on the curve of his waist, caressing over the small gather of skin. not when his face buried on the side of your neck. especially not when your legs parted, your free hand taking his leaking cock and guiding until his tip was pressed against your entrance.
his cock stretched you out with a pathetic ease, his mouth falling agape immediately and a small whimper slipping past his lips – as sweet as the quiet squelching sounds of your cunt taking his length.
“thank you… fuck, t-thank you…” he babbled, hips moving slowly and deeply inside you. his hands scramble to find yours, slotting his fingers through yours like a lifeline. “love you… god, i love you so much,” his voice was thick with a desperation that was almost painful. he kissed your jaw, your cheek, his breath hot and damp against your skin.
“i love you too, noel,” you whispered, heart melting as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your free hand came up to stroke his face, wiping at the dampness catching in his lashes. “so much. you’re so good to me...”
a choked sob left his throat at the praise. his bottom lip trembled, the muscles of his ass clenching softly with every shaky thrust, still too slow.
“can i… can i go a bit harder? please, love?” he stammered, leaning closer until his forehead pressed against yours. his eyes so glassy that if he blinked too hard a tear might fall on your warm skin. “wanna c-cum so bad, love. please, please, please…”
your tongue clicked softly, sweet and condescending all at once. your hand dragged down his back, unhurriedly feeling the curve of his spine until it reached the curve of his ass.
“slow, bunny. don’t rush it…” you coaxed. as if the gentle tone wasn’t enough, your hand softly grabbed the flesh of his ass, guiding as you pushed him close, then further back – inevitably pulsing around him at the broken gasp the friction pulled out of him. “you woke me up for this, i wanna look at you now…”
“fuck, don’t… d-don’t be mean, darlin’… please, s—fuck, please… please, please let me.” he begged with a broken cry.
“you sound so pretty when you’re being good, noelly…” you whispered, head still foggy with sleep, but hands still focused. forcing his hips into agonizingly slow and deep thrusts.
he whimpered, “please, love… just… let me— fuck, ’m your bunny. ‘m so good for you… let me fuck you… please…” rambling with a broken voice. his mouth was warm and damp against your lips, hips bucking weakly into you.
your head tipped back with a moan, hand squeezing his flesh harder, pulling him with a deeper drag at the needy words coming out of his mouth. “yeah? want it that bad?”
he whined, pressing his mouth on the side of your neck to muffle the pathetic sound he couldn’t hold in. “y-yes… want it so bad. want you so bad.”
“what’s the magic word, hm? say it pretty baby,” – a soft kiss on his temple as you gently, meanly cooed him – “cmon…”
“i love you. love you. p–love you, let me...” he rambled, so desperate he couldn’t even properly say what you asked for.
you breathed out a laugh at the words, hand grabbing him and pulling him closer at the same torturous pace. your head was spinning with sleep and with how pretty he sounded like this, even as he stretched you out so fully. “‘please’, bunny. you’re a smart boy, come on…”
his mouth found yours again, his lip quivering as he begged in a whisper. “please, i’m sorry. please. please, i– wanna be good. please.”
with a quiet moan, you pulled him in, hand squeezing a making him thrust with a depth that quietly let him know he was finally allowed to. a broken moan escaped his lips at the silent permission. “fuck, thank you. thank you, thank you.” he babbled, tone needy and whiny – unlike the heavy slam of his hips speeding up.
it reminded you for a second of how bigger he was. how easily his frame swallowed yours in bed, or how easy it would be if he just took what he wanted – like he did with every thing else, in a way. being what the title “the chief” allows him to be.
and yet, right now, he needed your permission.
his breath caught in his throat as he buried himself to the hilt. his hips moving in sloppy thrusts that pulled out broken moans of him.
you moaned, nails softly digging into his back. “feels so good, bunny.”
he nodded desperately. “‘m your needy bunny. fuck, needed you so bad.” babbling in broken whispers, completely shameless now. a tear finally spilled over his thick lashes, hot and damp where it smeared against your cheek.
his mouth blindly searched yours, catching your lower lip and sucking on it bruisingly. “you’re so soft… so fuckin’ wet. love you… fuckin’ love you, darlin’… ‘m gonna cum, ‘m— fuck.”
you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, hands blindly moving up to grip his hair, pulling him down into another messy, spit-slick kiss. “fill me up, that’s it.” you praised, the words messy and muffled against his mouth.
his mouth fell agape against yours, tongue dumbly bumping into yours as he buried himself as deep as he could go with sloppy thrusts.
a broken sob ripped from his throat as his orgasm took over him, painting your inner walls with white ropes of his cum and still not stopping. he whimpered into your mouth, fingers clawing at the mattress on either side of your head as he panted.
even after a few minutes, he stayed buried deep inside you. his body was heavy over yours, comforting – almost sending you back into a gentle sleep, as gentle as your hands caressing his back.
you could feel the heat spreading across his cheeks, imagining it reached all the way to the tips of his ears like it normally does.
you couldn't help the fond, sleepy smile that tugged at your lips. “you’re cute.” you teased softly, hand sliding up his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart.
he buried his face right back into the crook of your neck to hide his blushing face. “stop…” he mumbled, embarrassed. his voice muffled against your skin.
you laughed quietly. hands sliding over his bare back, tracing the smooth pale skin before sliding lower to gently caress the soft curve of his ass. noel let out a long, heavy sigh. the tension finally leaving his body as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, “i love you.”
“mhm…” you hummed quietly, fingers running over his skin, mouth pressing a soft kiss on his temple. “love you too.”
liam has this energy about him that’s endearingly boyish. it’s that kind of a personality trait where it doesn’t take too much time to notice, “part of the charm” he says.
you got hired to do the artwork for the band because of guigsy. neither of you quite know how you met, but that’s the thing about manchester – everyone knows everyone, and he happened to know a girl with talented hands and an appropriate budget for a band just starting out.
you stuck around even when the band started to take off, even when designing wasn’t really necessary. that meant after-parties backstage, van trips, a privileged side stage view, and knowing every lyric to definitely maybe by heart.
you always thought liam resembled a puppy. he never stops pacing backstage or around the studio, has to let out energy while performing or getting into unnecessary rows at pubs – the ones that always forced you to grab him by the back of his jacket and drag him to the other side of the room while he was still loudly winding the other lad up.
noel said it was because he fancied you, and you always dismissed it as a joke despite it making a lot of sense – while liam has never made any effort to disguise that, either.
he’d always poke your sides like a schoolboy with a crush does, always plop down the couch beside you whenever you looked far too bored, and always give you those puppy eyes with a head tilt – just because he knows that got you to play with his hair whenever you were the right amount of high.
strangely, you liked that about him. you liked how he chased after you, somehow like a dog would, holding a little chew toy between his teeth and wiggling his tail as he asked “play with me, play with me.”
eventually, he got bolder. he'd sling his arm around your shoulder and lean closer to your ear, using the pick up line that always got girls into his bed. unfortunately for him, those girls were only there to sleep with the cute frontman, so they absolutely didn't mind when his best chat up was "y'want it, girl?"
where all you did was laugh, endeared and amused. no matter how many times he tried, spicing it up occasionally with a wet kiss on your jaw or calling you “babe” instead, saying how fit you looked and how badly he wanted you.
it’s not like you wouldn’t shag him. liam is, unfortunately, stunning. but you always thought it was for the best to just avoid the mess, the inevitable chaos that sleeping with someone you worked with every day would bring into the routine.
despite being seriously tempted every time he gave you those puppy eyes and asked you so pretty, so politely and so fucking needy it got you clenching around nothing. “please, darling.” toning down all the swagger he usually carried around and asking you like a proper good boy.
imagine if you knew about one specific night back in his hotel room, where he was especially wound up. closing his eyes hard and thinking about you while balls deep inside a groupie, panting and asking her to call him a “good boy” just because her voice remotely resembled yours.
the costume party was initially your idea. you shared it in the middle of nowhere, with the band unenthusiastically agreeing, only shrugging while sprawled across the tour buses’ couches. except liam, who immediately beamed, saying it would be “fucking mega” and telling noel to not be a grumpy cunts and actually make an effort.
the night of the party arrived, and the effort noel did was wear a loose white button up shirt and carry around a plastic lightsaber. eh, that’s as good as it gets.
the rest of the band did an effort too, but no one came close to your costume. permanently obsessed with old disney animations, it was only fair you did cruella de vil justice – big white fur coat, black eye makeup and even half of your hair tinted white by a aerosol can that would most likely give you a headache to wash off the following morning.
you had seen liam around in the room, not being able to pin down what he was dressed as. that, until he found you in the balcony, cutting in the silent atmosphere that you enjoyed your cigarette.
“two proper peas in a pod, huh?” he teased, eyes dragging over your figure as he strutted closer.
your brows raised softly, a small smile forming on your lips as you blew the smoke out. “what are you supposed to be, liam?”
he snorted, leaning closer and tipping his chin up, his chubby finger pointing at the collar around his neck.
you squinted, leaning closer. immediately breathing out a laugh once you realized. “you’re a dog?”
“nah, love. well, supposed to be scooby doo.” he replied with a smirk, before attempting on his first move of the evening. “but if y’want, i can be your dog, yeah. cruella, innit. i’d let you fur coat me all you want.”
you snort, amused. “fuck off, liam.”
he laughed, placing a cigarette between his own lips and lighting it, the flame lighting the way his brows furrowed softly in concentration, before wearing that same shit eating expression again. “just sayin’…” he started, slowly blowing out the smoke. “too good of a coincidence to pass on.”
you laughed despite yourself, leaning your lower back against the railing. “did i tell you i was gonna dress as this?” you asked teasingly, arms crossing.
he breathed out a laugh, shaking his head as he took a small step just to stand in front of you, his large back shielding your frame from whoever was inside the venue. “nah, just… liked scooby doo as a kid. that’s it.”
your tongue clicked, head tilting as you pouted softly, endeared. “aw...” as you take another drag of your cigarette.
he huffed, in good spirits despite feeling the cool breeze brush his warm cheeks. “yeah, yeah. aren’t i a good boy.”
you huff softly, head tilting and eyes following your own hand, settling on his shoulder and caressing it softly. "don’t know about that…” you tease quietly, meeting his eyes already on your face, nearly glinting. “i've seen you in the studio. you don't exactly listen, do you?"
he snorts, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "nah, that’s different. rkid’s a miserable cunt.” he replied easily, taking your palm off his shoulder, guiding until the back of your hand was close to his mouth. then, leaning down and pressing a kiss over your skin. “for you? ’m an angel, me."
the alcohol is settled warm in your stomach, and the constant back-and-forth you've been playing with him for months suddenly feels like it's stretching thin.
an amused smile grows on your lips, head tilting as you feel his thumb brush your knuckles. "hmm… are you?..."
his chin tips up, like a silent challenge. “try me, babe.“
you lick your lips in attempt to fight a smirk, tapping the ash off your cigarette onto the street below. “sit,” you say quietly with a nudge of your chin.
his smirk widens as he takes a drag of his cigarette. without missing a beat, he drops down right there on the concrete balcony floor, looking up at you through his long eyelashes. "easy." he mutters, the smoke coming out between his grinning lips.
you breathe out a laugh at it despite yourself, amused. "now stand." you command gently.
he rises slowly, his frame looming over you again. "told ya."
you smile, head tilting as your hand reaches out to the back of his head. "maybe you are…" you hum, fingers sliding into his hair, scratching right behind his ears.
liam lets out a low, breathy sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your touch. you let your hand slide down from his hair, your thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw. you smile at the sight of him physically melting.
liam leans his head down with another shaky sigh, burying his face into the side of your neck. his pink lips brush your jawline as he leaves a string of small, hesitant kisses there. "please… fucking killing me over here." he whispers, like he’s nearly afraid to say it.
you let out a soft laugh, pulling your head back slightly, just enough to look at him. his cheeks are flushed, lips parted. his breathing is heavier, audibly hitching once your eyes land on his mouth.
“'s like you're a fit toy, yeah? i'd hump the fuck out of you.” he adds, smiling shyly at the sound of you laughing even harder, your hand sliding to the back of his neck and pulling him closer.
his front presses against yours, and you can’t help but click your tongue softly at the undeniable heat strained against his trousers. “aw, liam… are you hard?” you ask in a teasing whisper.
a rare flicker of shyness crosses his face before he covers it with a breathless laugh. "s-sorry, just... y'look really fit. can't help it."
you laugh softly, the sound low and knowing. sweetly condescending. "yeah?"
without breaking eye contact, your hand slides down his chest, slowly dragging down until your palm presses against his clothed erection. "god, you really are," you murmur, words as slow as your hand palming him through the fabric. you’re so close now that your nose brushes his, a smile growing on your mouth as you feel his breath, warm and shaky against your lips. "think you're just getting off on being treated like a puppy, liam..."
"m'not... 's not just that," he tries, hand settling on your waist underneath the fuzzy coat, grabbing you like he’s trying to convince you.
you laughed, “no?”
he breathed our against your mouth, shaky and warm. not a yes but not a no, either.
then, you hold out your bare palm right in front of his mouth. his eyes dart down quickly before snapping back to your face, brows softly furrowed in confusion.
“spit.”
he opens his mouth and lets a thick pooling of saliva drop right into your palm, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip after, his eyes never leaving yours.
"good boy, liam…" you praise in a whisper. it makes his knees go visibly weak.
you reach down, unbuttoning his trousers with your clean hand and tugging his zipper down.
his underwear is tight, already damp at the tip, and when you ease his length out into the cool night air, he groans out loud, the sound catching in his throat. you rub your wet palm over your fingers, coating them before fully wrapping your hand around his shaft, sliding from the base right up to his leaking tip.
his head falls forward immediately, a broken string of curses leaving his lips as his eyes close tightly shut.
liam shakes his head frantically, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as your slick hand moves around him. he picks up his head so his eyes can desperately track your face as you stroke him.
you nod softly, not breaking the eye contact. "mhm. can't be a bad boy, can you, liam..." your thumb spreading the pre cum before pulling all the way down again. "gotta stay quiet, hm?”
he nods desperately, trying to not give himself away, despite his hips are still twitching, trying to force more friction against your hand. "wanna be good…”
you smile wider, stroking him faster. “yeah?”
“fuck— yeah.” he pants quietly, nodding eagerly. “c-call me a good boy.. please, please. tell me… tell me i'm doin' it right, please, l-love..." whispering, eyes glinting and brows furrowing softly.
"shh… such a loud little pup." you whisper, your warm breath brushing his lips. his mouth falls agape with another quiet moan, his eyes getting glassier.
a whimper catches on his throat. "i'll be quiet, i—just... fuck, you're so warm," his thick fingers digging into the fabric of your dress so hard his knuckles are white. "please... call me it... please, please… need… need to hear it..."
you watch him, your own lips parting like you could get off at the sight alone – his blue eyes squeezed shut, his brows needily furrowed, jaw clenched and bottom lip an ever prettier shade of pink from biting.
he’s being so good, and he looks so pretty when doing so.
you open your mouth to give him what he wants, but before the words can even form, liam lets out a needy sob, his hips bucking violently into your hand as he comes undone without any warning.
hot spurs of his cum coat your palm and your fingers. his body is still shaking, breath coming in shallow gasps as he slumps slightly against you, his forehead resting against your shoulder, completely spent.
you look down at your hand, covered in his heat, and let out a soft, amused sigh. "oh, liam… look at the mess you made, pup." you coo softly, though there's a amused and aroused smirk on your lips.
liam stays close, panting and breathing out embarrassed, small curses and “i’m sorry…” over and over. shaking his head like he desperately doesn’t want you to change your mind.
your eyes land on your own hand, tilting it slightly, letting him see the white over your skin.
his cheeks burn as his eyes catch a glimpse of your slick hand between your bodies. he looks down, then up at your eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“i’m sorry…” he breathes out. and before you can even say anything, he takes your wrist with surprising gentleness, guiding your hand up to his mouth.
he licks your fingers first, tongue warm as he picks up drops of himself off your skin. your lips part slowly, a shaky exhale coming out of you in surprise and awe at the same time. his eyes stay locked onto yours the entire time, eyebrows softly furrowing as his tongue drags over your knuckles.
“‘m sorry…”
you pull your hand away slowly, nearly shaky. then, it cups the back of his neck, pulling him down into a slow kiss. you can taste himself on his own tongue, making you moan inside his mouth.
you pull back, just an inch. enough to tip your head in the direction of the door you’re walking towards. "come," you say quietly.
he tucks himself away and follows without a word.
on the way to the bathroom, it seems like he gained some of his usual bravado back, the greediness. maybe that’s why his hands were already pulling you into him a millisecond after your fingers locked the door behind you with a soft click.
you kissed him back just as greedily, threading your fingers still slick with his spit inside his messy hair, sitting onto the edge of the sink.
liam pressed his entire body between your thighs instantly, forcing you to part them wider with his thick fingers gripping your thighs. his mouth latched on your neck, kissing eagerly, desperately. leaving a damp trail on your skin as his mouth moved down toward your collarbone.
"liam." you say, voice firm as you grip his shoulders. despite your breath getting shakier with every damp stroke of his tongue on your pulse point, sucking harshly enough to leave a purple mark.
his hands left you to free himself once again, clumsy but easy enough since he hadn’t even zipped himself up properly in the balcony.
your palm reached down between your bodies and clumsily wrapping around his cock. the touch made his mouth search for yours again, kissing you harder, a rough moan muffled against your skin.
“fuck, wanna… please, fuckin’— please.” he babbled, dampening the corner of your mouth as he quietly whimpered.
your hand grabbed his cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh and physically restraining him – he’d fucking faint otherwise, seems like.
“quiet.” you whispered, slowly wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer, nudging the fabric of your knickers to the side with the sensitive, leaking tip of his cock – pulling a pathetic whimper out of him, one that immediately morphed into a broken moan as he slipped inside your wet entrance.
“there are people out there, y’need to be quieter.” you added, despite your chest arching into him and your legs wrapping around him, slow but firm enough until he bottomed in.
he immediately started moving, kissing you with a force that nearly shoved your back against the wall’s mirror, knocking a shaky breath out of your chest at the depth of his cock inside you.
the skin slapping sounds were too loud to pass as something innocent. he certainly didn’t help, either. "wanna eat your cunt after, please. please, please," he begged against your mouth, whiny. "please… i'll go all night. wanna make… fuck— wanna make y’feel good.”
“liam—“
"fucking mad for you. dreaming about you—“ he rambled, hands sliding up under your skirt against your bare thighs, grabbing them harshly as his cock slammed inside you.
with a broken moan, your hand reached to the back of his neck, fingers shaky as they wrapping around the leather collar still fastened around him. you tugged on it firmly, enough for him to stop moving with a slow exhale – his brows furrowed at the material slightly choking him, but his cock twitched inside you in a way he couldn’t possibly deny how badly he liked it.
"slow down," you command, tone dropping. "don't be greedy, puppy... c'mon. slow."
liam let out a tortured groan, hips freezing in place and his whole body shivering from the forced restraint.
"fuck... thank you, thank you...” he rambles in a whisper, eyes rolling back before falling tightly shut, head shaking softly like he can’t believe you’re letting him be inside you. he moves slower now, like he can’t stand the thought of having to stop. “fuck, you're so tight. you’re so fucking wet."
“that’s better.” you praised quietly. one of your hand still restrained him by the collar, while your free one slid down his side, settling on his hip and slowly shifting further away… then back in. your lips parted at the slow feeling of his cock sliding in and out. “good boy, baby…”
his hands fly to the sink, gripping it so harshly his knuckles turn white. his lips are slick with spit and parted as he watches your face, his hips moving in shaky, slow thrusts.
you pull him closer, grip still tight around his neck – cutting off the right amount of oxygen from his brain enough to make him forget his name. he can only think of you, you and you. like a dog completely devoted to his owner.
“does it feel good?” you whisper, teasing. still guiding his hips in slow thrusts.
“f-fuck, yeah… so… fuck— wanna fill y’up. please, love, let me cum inside ya. so wet, so… fuck,” he babbles quietly, taking in a shaky inhale like he’s about to cry. "slap me. do whatever you want to me, just— fuck, let me. tell me i'm good, please... tell me 'm your good boy. please."
you bite down a smirk, eyebrows softly raising. “yeah?” as your hand left his hip, meeting his cheek with a sharp slap. eh, fuck whoever’s outside now. “that’s what you want, liam?”
his lip quivers, thrusts going even deeper from how needy he is. “y-yeah. fuck, yeah.”
“yeah?” you mock, tenderly, before leaving another sharp slap on his face, while your busy hand shifts to the front of his collar, pulling his face even closer to yours. “you wanna be treated like a bad dog, liam?”
“b-fuck. wanna do whatever you want, whatever you want. i’ll be whatever you want.”
you hum. “you’re being so good, though…” whispering, your hand tugs down his collar until his head tilts down, a moan escaping his lips at the sight of his slick cock dissapearing between your legs. you press a kiss to his forehead, “look how good you’re fucking me, pup.”
“y-yeah," he gasps out, his tone in a whisper as he thrusts deep into you. “'m a good dog. 'm your good boy, aren't i?"
your free hand slides up, fingers shoving past his parted lips – watching his tongue lap your digits without any hesitation, feeling him softly moan around them while your other one keeps the grip tight around his neck. “mhm… such a good boy, baby.”
he whimpers at the praise, hands shaking where they're braced against the sink on either side of your hips, while yours travel down. your head tips back as your fingers, slick with his spit, start to draw circles around your clit. the pleasure starts to build, making you have to stifle down a needy moan. "gonna cum again, puppy? make another mess?" you ask, tone breathier now.
“fuck, please. let me, please, please. wanna cum so bad.” he chokes out. his blue eyes are watering, it makes your skin burn with how intensely he’s looking at you, begging. his lips look are tainted in a prettier shade of pink now, from kissing and biting, glistening with his own spit and yours.
you pull him closer by the collar, uncontrollably pulsing around his cock and messily crashing your lips into his as your orgasm washes through embarrassingly quick. his lips part, brows furrowing in pleasure and tongue dumbly searching for yours even though he can’t really kiss you back.
he mumbles “thank you” over and over, hips sloppily thrusting into you and muscles clenching as he comes undone.
for a minute, the only sounds in the bathroom are your heavy breaths, his body warm against yours, shaking from the intensity. he cuts in the silence with a soft and muffled laugh against your skin, his lips brushing your cheek.
[30/07/2017] NOEL GALLAGHER HITS THE SUPERMARKET: the oasis singer was spotted on an outing to a west london supermarket this afternoon, taking pictures with eager wonderwall fans. the high flying birds singer has recently [...]
i.
“They didn’t have any almond milk, the stupid fuckers!” Unpacking the last of the shopping and screwing up the plastic bag into a ball, Noel raises his voice, hoping it’ll somehow float out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Though he’d made a vow to himself to only be twenty minutes at most, he’d spent almost an hour and a half searching the shelves and squinting down at the list his wife had scribbled on the back of an old envelope; trying to decipher her handwriting and what type of bread she meant when she’d just written down ‘loaf’.
Picking up an apple he’d thrown into the fruit bowl earlier, he takes a bite and stares out into the garden; watching a bird perch on top of the swing set he’d once bought the boys for Christmas, and contemplating whether the grass needed to be mowed this weekend or if he could put it off for the next couple of weeks. “You there?” Leaning back against the countertop, he wonders if Sara's in the shower, with the sound of the running water muffling anything beyond the bathroom door.
“Sorry, hi.” Noel turns his head at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, pausing with a chunk of apple stuffed into the side of his cheek like a hamster. It’s unnerving the way his shoulders instantly untense at the sound, just as they usually do when he finally puts his headphones on during a busy train journey, and when he flops into bed after a day of hunching over the studio control board, trying to get a song's mix right.
“Hello.” He manages to garble out, swallowing far too quickly and making his eyes water slightly with the effort. In your white t-shirt and jeans, it’s as though you’d strolled out of one of those eighties movies he used to obsessively watch as a kid; truthfully, he supposes if he were twenty years younger you might make his heart race and his knees go weak, but today he’s feeling particularly old after trying to carry in all the shopping bags at once, and all he can think of is sinking into the back of the sofa and hate-watching a mind-numbingly awful reality show with a beer in his hand.
Smiling politely, you fiddle with the hem of your top. In a way, it’s like he’s watching a cute animal get startled on a nature programme, though here in his kitchen, there’s no calming David Attenborough commentary playing in the background. Part of him wants to shake you, insist he’s not as stoic as people make him out to be, that just yesterday he’d laughed until his stomach ached, though instead he just listens to you speak: “Sara went out. I thought she would’ve told you I just –”
“It’s fine, kiddo. You’re alright.” The words are delivered with such tenderness that he surprises himself. He’d been in his twenties once too, had a few jobs he didn’t particularly like, and he’d rather die than be the reason you hate yours. “Probably told me and I forgot.” He reassures, watching you fix your hair from where it had all fallen out of your clip. Now that it’s quiet again, he can hear a film playing in the living room; presumably the animated one his sons usually beg to watch over and over until his temples start to ache. “You’re the brave girl then?”
“What’d you mean?” Looking slightly more relaxed, you fidget with some of the petals on the countertop, right underneath the big bouquet of fresh flowers that he’d seen his wife arrange the other day as he ate his breakfast and sipped his tea. It’s odd to have someone he’s never met look so comfortable in his own home, especially when that someone is a girl he would’ve drooled over back in his heyday, whom he probably would’ve flirted with by insisting he could teach you something on his guitar if you came back to his room.
“I mean, your job. Looking after kids and all that is hard work.” He clarifies, still holding his half-eaten apple and reluctant to take another bite for fear it might come off as a hint that he wants to end the conversation, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Especially mine.” It’s a joke he hopes will land; he hasn’t seen you smile properly yet, and now he feels like he can’t get through the rest of his day unless he proves to you that he’s not always the grumpy pessimist everyone usually makes him out to be.
“They’re very sweet, believe it or not.” The grin forms on your face as you finish your sentence, brushing some fallen pollen off the shiny countertop and wiping the excess onto the front of your jeans, next to the marker pen and chocolate stains that follow almost anyone that spends more than half an hour in a child’s company; though it now seems he’s found the exact culprit for the empty sweets jar and the plethora of drawings stuck to the front of the fridge.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He jokes again, suddenly feeling remarkably left out that all this had been going on at home while he was away on tour. That perhaps he could have been here colouring in the living room, getting pen all over his hands, and chomping on mini bars of chocolate instead of sitting in the back of a car somewhere, with his head against a cold glass window, trying to get an extra minute of sleep so he could survive the rest of the day without nodding off mid-soundcheck.
ii.
“Do you walk home?” Strolling down the hallway with a fresh cup of tea, Noel witnesses you pulling your bag off the coat rack and bending down to pick up your shoes. Though he’d done very little, it still seems this day has gone remarkably fast, and he has to check his expensive watch to actually believe that it’s already five o’clock in the evening; the light in the summertime always seems to catch him out, even now in August, when he's supposed to be used to it.
“I take the tube too, but yeah.” Opening your bag and staring down into its contents to check you’ve got everything, you shrug. There’s a little keychain of some initials dangling off the handle, and your textbooks sticking out the top from where you’d presumably packed them to cram in some precious study time if the boys were ever distracted enough; he makes a mental note to ask Sara over dinner what you’re studying, though he’s sure it’ll escape his mind by then, and he’ll end up talking about something else entirely through forkfuls of his food.
“On your own?” He worries aloud. It’s hard to ignore that ever since he’d got a mobile phone, every girlfriend he’d ever had would call him whenever she walked somewhere alone in the dark, and that his task of listening on the other end had transferred to his daughter from the moment she became a teenager. He hopes you have someone to talk to like that; perhaps a boyfriend who’ll chatter to you eagerly about your day as you walk past all the dodgy parts of town.
“It’s still light outside.” Noel watches you tie your shoelaces as you speak; now that he’s got his glasses on, having found them shoved carelessly down the side of the sofa cushions, he can finally see that you’ve painted your nails a fun colour with a layer of glitter over the top, and it reminds him of all the aggressively sparkly stickers his youngest son always insists on wearing up his arms like tattoos. There’s an awkward silence, one he’s dying to fill, but luckily you do it for him: “I walk everywhere, it’s fine.”
“Can’t be doing that in the winter.” Though rare, it’s times like these he wishes he could drive. It would all be so much easier if he could just hop into one of his unused cars and drop you off at home, and it would certainly calm the horrible gnawing feeling of worry that was beginning to creep up his throat. That was one of the things he was unprepared for when it came to fatherhood: the sudden concern for safety that had once annoyed him so much during his own adolescence, where he’d vowed never to be like that as an adult, only to break his own promise years later. “There’s fucking weirdos around.”
“Bye, Mr Gallagher.” Clearly unsure of what to say, you adjust the straps of your bag on your shoulder and move to open the door. Suddenly, for the second time that day, he feels remarkably old with a new urge to correct you. Even though it would probably be good and proper for you to call him by his last name rather than his first, he still can’t bring himself to stomach it; it felt so far removed, like someone else entirely.
“Jesus – don’t call me Mr Gallagher. It makes me sound like my dad.” It even sounds odd on his own tongue, and he’s almost tempted to take a sip of the tea he’s still holding to cleanse his palate, though instead he just looks back at you, his face all softened in that way that only ever appears in the privacy of his own home. There’s the sound of the boys chattering in the next room over, probably bickering over one of the film's characters, and a police siren wailing somewhere far off in the city, before he musters up something else to say: “Noel will do, yeah?”
“Bye then, Noel.” Already, that sounds miles better, and he can feel his jaw unclench slightly at the familiar way you say it. Tongue poking out the side of your mouth in concentration, you twiddle with the lock in an attempt to open the heavy front door, letting out a little sigh of relief when it gives way and reveals the stone steps up towards his house. “Can you close the – the door after me? I can never do it right.”
“Yeah, it's tricky sometimes. No worries.” Back when he’d bought the house, it was a gripe he’d promised to fix, though years later, with almost every other inch of it decorated to near perfection thanks to his wife's organisation, it was one of the only things he’d still left abandoned; perhaps this might be the push for him to try and correct it, thanks to witnessing your sweet little frustrated face trying to pull the lock and twist the handle two different ways, though to no avail.
“Thank you.” Walking down the steps, your hair bounces with the motion as though you’re a princess in an old cartoon, and you flash him a grateful smile. The air outside smells distinctly of summer, and he suddenly feels rather silly for drinking hot tea in his air-conditioned house rather than sitting out in his garden, lounging on his outdoor furniture and trying to not to let his Irish skin burn by messily reapplying suncream to his face and the top of his nose. “See you later.”
“Bye, kiddo.” You’re halfway down the drive when he lets his last farewell slip out, studying you as you cross the road, digging around in your bag for your wired headphones and plugging them into your ears with the kind of practised ease of someone who’s done this a million times over; he wonders what you like to listen to, and how long you’ve technically been working here while he was away, and if his two sons would give him any information if he bribed them with the promise of gummy sweets from the secret stash in the top drawer.
How does Ellie react when the stockhold syndrome finally overcomed reader?
When Ellie finds out that you’re reliant on her, she enjoys taking care of you even more than before.
That doesn’t mean Ellie has ever forgotten how cute your screams sounded when you resisted her, trying to hide your stupid little pussy from her with your shackled hands— as if it would help.
Ellie tries new things— harder kinks, more hours in the basement where she makes you feel uncertain under the impression she might never come back.
Maybe she even tries to lie to you about being with someone else romantically just to watch your little face drop. She finds it so cute.
She knows it’s wrong that she’s playing around with your feelings, and while she’s aware she’s not actually seeing someone else, she likes watching the sadness in your eyes.
It makes her realise over and over that you’re just a helpless captive girl in love with her captor.
⊹ . ݁ BEGGING 4 FOREGIVENESS── .✦ PUPPY!ELLIE WILLIAMS ˎˊ˗
゛synopsis ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ POPULAR!ELLIE HEADCANONS── .✦ COLLEGE AU // headcanons + short snippet of you and your girlfriend, ellie. she's a popular jock, because of course she is, what with her good looks, open sexuality, and personality. no one really knows how much of a puppy she is with you behind closed doors.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags; college au, begging, mild puppy play (use of a collar & leash), pet names & praise, head (r!receiving), sub & service top ellie, dom & bottom reader, straps, marking (hickeys), fluff and smut, comfort, possibly ooc ellie
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who truly, wholeheartedly, hates the attention she gets. she used to like it, back when she was single and hooked up with some girl every weekend, but not anymore. many of her friends from the soccer team often tease her for how little she goes out, but the truth is, ellie loves nothing more than to stay cooped up in your dorm, binge watch the series you two promise not to watch without the other present, and cuddle.
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who really, really likes to be praised and kissed at the same time. there's nothing more ellie enjoys than to arrive at your dorm, freshly showered after practice, and cuddle on your bed. she whines, shamelessly, when you give her kisses on the forehead, ask her about her day, and praise her for doing good. it's easy to ignore the worries in her mind when she's around you.
"coach basically said im carrying the team to nationals,” ellie’s words are muttered into your chest, her cheek smushed against your breast. she doesn’t have to say what she wants to hear from you, and yet— “will you come, if we do make it?”
“of course,” you run your fingers through her hair, pushing back her bangs to kiss her freckled forehead. “i’m proud of you, baby.”
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who most people, including yourself in the beginning, expect to be this rough, smug, and dominant woman in the bedroom. she is, with strangers and one-night stands, that is… but not relationships. she certainly didn’t open up about one of her kinks on purpose; you simply figured it out.
“fuck, els…” you gasp against her ear, curling your fingers into the base of her skull to give a gentle pull to her hair. her breaths mingle with yours, and she watches with rapt attention as your face twists the longer her thumb circles your clit for.
it’s maddening, watching a woman lose herself in pleasure thanks to her. but ellie always aches for more than just moans and simple praise like ‘that’s so good’. she needs more.
“right there, baby. ‘m so close, just press a little— there!” you’re thankful the parking lot of the uni’s residence is empty in this particular area. cars are an uncomfortable place to fuck in, but they make-do for quickies. ellie knows what she’s doing, at least, but even so, the words slip. “good girl, baby. you did so good for me.”
ellie’s hips bucked against nothing, and she whimpered. that was a topic for another time, though.
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who eventually does open up about her kinks a few months into the relationship. not the basic ones; who the fuck isn’t into being praised, or getting told they eat pussy well? no, she means the ones that only one other girl — her ex — knows. she’s awfully embarrassed about it, even if it doesn’t go anything beyond wanting to be called puppy, being “petted”, getting called ‘good girl’, and being occasionally slipped into a collar.
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who whimpers as you ride her. she stretches you out so very well, and you’re not sure what’s more satisfying— the feeling, or watching ellie’s breath stutter every time you roll your hips down on her strap. if she tries to buck her hips to meet you halfway, you give a tug to the leash wrapped around your hand. she can only watch, wet and aroused and useless on her back, as you move to your own rhythm, balancing yourself with one hand on one of her small breasts.
POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who loves to get marked up. leave scratches on her back and red indents on her hips, please. but most of all, she loves hickeys. the second your lips come into contact with her throat, she’s tipping her head back and holding back whimpers. her hands grip onto your shoulders as you bring her flesh into your mouth to suckle, and though she expects it every time, still shudders when you top it all off with a nip and kiss.
“do you like that, els?” you croon against her ear, running a fingertip down the path of blooming marks on her nape. ellie nods, leaning back against the headboard to pull you on top of her.
but you stop just short of, instead shifting to sit between her knees. your finger trails down her sternum, passing by the many freckles that could pass as constellations, until you reach her abdomen. it’s a lean area, yet would be just as easy to mark up.
“want me to leave a few here, puppy?” you press your thumb down against her navel, grinning when ellie groans and bucks her hips with a nod. “yeah? use your words for me.”
If only Ellie’s teammates could see her like this; flushed from the tips of her ears all the way down to her toes, knees reddened from how long she’s been knelt before you for.
Not that she’d have it any other way, though.
"I didn't mean to make you upset," Ellie breathes against your thigh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft flesh before resting her chin over it. She whines as your fingers curl tighter into her hair, though doesn't make a move to pull away. "She came up to me. You know I'd never do such a thing."
You do, but even so, it doesn't make it any less frustrating when bold — and stupid — girls try to make a move on your woman. Ellie used to like parties, and though rarely attends any these days, had no option but to go since it was a friend's birthday. You'd left her alone for three minutes to fetch you both a drink.
Three.
That had been just enough time for a gal to slink in, press up against Ellie, and try to get her number. Ellie had done her part of backing up and saying she had a girlfriend and was happily taken, and owned, but the other had only left once you showed up.
You weren't angry, honestly. Annoyed, sure, but you've never been the jealous type. Ellie clearly wanted you to be, though.
"Was I bad?" She whispers right against your ear, ensuring you'd hear her through the beat of the music and chatter in the background. "I should've followed you, don't you think? Maybe that way she wouldn't have flirted with me."
Back to the present, Ellie remains knelt at the foot of the bed. She's restless, you can tell. Her eyes keep flickering down to the hem of your nightgown, as though her stare would will it to be lifted on its own. She whimpers as you raise it, but remains painfully still, and watches as the length of your thighs is revealed. From the soft flesh she itches to squeeze the sides of her head, to the pretty stretch marks that hug your hips like her hands often do.
And Ellie can't hold back a whine when your knees part fully, showing her was she salivates for; your cunt, free of undergarments, with slick already pressed to the inner and plush parts of your thighs. Your fingers untangle themselves from her hair, yet, Ellie waits. Until—
"Go on."
She doesn't jump you. She knows better. Instead, Ellie works her way up your legs with slow, open-mouthed kisses. Her hands hook themselves under your knees, guiding them over her shoulders before she grasps your hips to carefully scoot you closer to the edge of the bed. Her fingers part you open, and the first press of her tongue over your slit has your toes curling. You reward her with a groan, which only excites Ellie further. She buries her face against you, nose nestled over your mound, and sucks your clit into her mouth.
"Good girl, Ellie."
The praise from your lips earns you an eager whine against your sex. Ellie pulls away, but replaces her mouth with her hand instead and slips two fingers into your warmth with ease. She stands just enough to seal her mouth over yours, allowing for your lungs to take in every breath, groan, and whimper from her throat.
cw: pre-fame!noel; innocent!reader; mentions of weed use; corruption kink; pervy and slightly manipulative noel; first kiss; fingering; m. masturbation; voyeurism (?); oral f. receiving; loss of virginity; noel is big <3
𑣲 word count: 10,3k. ˊˎ-
wn: yeah okay this might be a liiiiittle unrealistic for virginity loss. but u guys. let's just vibe okay. i had a blassst writing this #ilovepervymen <3 based on this BRILLIANT ask !!!! ily anon
you had been sitting in front of the mirror for what feels like an eternity. you know that’s normal when nerves are creeping in, but right now, after fantasizing – or dreading – this date for a whole week, it feels like something is off.
it happened at the pub, noel and liam had just finished performing when tom approached.
he was sweet. he was in the same class as one of your friends and he kept his hands where you could see them. he didn’t let liam’s loudness startle him – maybe noel’s stare a little. but oh well.
at the end of the evening, just as you were saying goodbye far too early and he had just come back from a smoke outside, he asked you out. he did it casually, mentioned a nicer pub down his street that had incredible fish and chips.
you said yes, part because you wanted to and part because you never really knew how to say no – your cheeks get warmer just at the thought of coming up with an excuse that sounds silly.
but right now, you were fidgety. your lipstick didn’t quite look right, the mascara looked clumpy and you think you might’ve overdone it with the blush. christ almighty.
and of course, noel wasn’t helping.
he stayed sat down – nearly laying – on your bed from the moment he walked inside your room, back rested on your headboard and some pillows, arm absentmindedly resting over some plushie toy he had mocked you for several times already, legs sprawled over the mattress.
he quickly realized that watching you fret over your reflection was quite amusing.
it’s a contrast no one really knew how to explain why the fuck it would work, you two. but it did.
noel had this annoying calmness over him. smugness, even – the kind that made him walk through the door of your house at the same time your mum was leaving for her night shift and not even tremble in his trainers with fear that she might realize he was off his tits.
eh. i chewed a piece of gum. put some cologne on to disguise the smell. the red eyes are just tiredness, miss. band’s beggining to take off right now, do you know what i mean? writing too many songs. oh yes, of course i can give your nephew a few guitar lessons, and don’t even fret, i wouldn’t dream of charging him.
at her playful words “take care of my girl” he gave her a charming smile alongside a polite nod that said when don’t i?
have a lovely shift!
while you were a pile of nerves, constantly. always worried of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, always overthinking and shaking like a scared little puppy just for correcting a wrong order at a new restaurant.
now wouldn’t be any different.
you were nervous for this date – terrified, really. your hands kept fumbling and knocking over little bits of makeup that clattered softly against the floor. you didn’t notice how many times you bent down to grab them, muttering “fuck sake” to yourself, cheeks already warm with frustration.
noel had to fight back a smirk every time you did, because what you hadn’t noticed either is that every time you’d bend down, the clumsy action would give noel first class seats to look at your new pair of lacy blue underwear.
yeah, yeah. he’s a prick. but you see, it seems like the weed he has smoked went straight to his cock rather than to his head. so much that, for the first time ever, he’s deeply considering actually making a move on his cute little girl mate.
you’ve done it five times by now. from the second one foward he’s been hard underneath his jeans. having to adjust himself every single time, even tilting his head to follow the way your skirt flaps up… and down.
he has noticed you’ve got a nice arse before. but christ… this is new.
he could tell you bought the pair just for tonight. he knows you won’t do anything, but still. it was there – that silent desire of finally understanding what all the fuss was about.
the thought made his cock stir inside his trousers once more. god, you’re so cute. so sweet. but at the same time, it made his jaw tighten. the thought of some boring prick getting to see that blue lace hugging that perfect ass? fucking unacceptable.
you’re not gonna do it with the lad, that’s for fucking sure. so… what kind of friend will noel be if he lets your precious money on these pretty pair of underwear go to waste? it would be a tragedy to let those knickers stay dry all night.
“what’s the lad’s name again?” he asked, tone unbothered.
you sighed shakily, shaking your head at your reflection and muttering out quietly, whispering exasperated. “doesn’t… fucking look right…” you talked about the eyeliner, completely ignoring noel’s question.
“oi. ‘m talking to ya,” noel called out. not rude, a little amused to be honest. he raised his brows and smirked faintly as you turned your head towards him, finally paying attention. “the lad’s name, love. what is it?”
you inhaled, already turning back to your reflection. “tom.”
noel scoffed. and before he could say anything, you cut in. “i know. but he’s… nice. he’s sweet, noel.” you said softly, tone dripping with sweetness despite the nerves.
he snorts at that, laying further back on the pillows with his neck slightly propped up so he could keep looking at you. he puts his arms behind his head as he winds you up. “he the king of england or summat?” he mutters. “know it’s your first date and all but, fuckin’ hell.”
you frown a little at his tone, glancing at him through the mirror. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“means you’re actin’ like it’s life or death. it’s a pint and some chips, not a bloody wedding.”
you huff softly, turning back to your reflection and immediately looking down at the table, makeup products scattered everywhere.
“it’s…” you cut yourself off with a soft sigh, putting the cap back onto your lipstick as an attempt to make this less embarrassing, “it’s not just that, noel...”
“what is it, then?” he presses in a little further, not mean. not curious, either, because he knows. of course he does. he just wants to hear you say it, he just wants you to give him his perfect cue.
you hesitate. and then, “i’ve never… never kissed anyone before.” quieter now, like you’re admitting something embarrassing.
he stays quiet for a second. like something’s just clicked into place, something he had already figured out was now being handed to him properly. his tongue presses into his cheek, tilting his head as his eyes drag over you in the mirror again.“that so, love?” he says, lowly.
you nod a little, already embarrassed, already looking down again, watching your fingers fiddle with the edge of your skirt. “yeah. it’s— i mean. it’s not a big deal.”
he doesn’t say anything else, he just keeps watching the back of your head. until your turn, eyebrows slightly scrunched together, hands on your lap picking at your rings.
“right?” you ask, quieter, needing him to confirm it, to tell you it’s not as nervewrecking as it suddenly feels.
his tongue darts out to lick his lips, a small effort to hold himself from smirking at the sight of you. your pretty face, your lips tinted with lipstick, the way you’re sitting there all unsure and soft and a little too trusting for your own good.
then he exhales lightly through his nose and tilts his head, patting the mattress – your mattress – beside him. “c’mere.”
your heart skips a beat. “what?”
“c’mere, love” he repeats, nodding once toward himself, like it’s obvious.
you hesitate, but not for long. because it’s noel, isn’t it? your noel. so you step forward, slow, until you’re standing right beside the bed, knees nearly brushing the mattress.
he reaches out, taking your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his thumb warm and grounding as it glides over your knuckles. “well… that can’t happen, can it?” he says softly, a touch of thoughtfulness.
you furrow your brows softly, looking at his face while he gently holds your hand. “what can’t?”
“you goin’ out there like that, love” he says, like it’s a fact, giving your hand a small squeeze. “never been kissed, don’t know what you’re doin’… you’ll just embarrass yourself.”
you swallowed gruffly, because he’s just putting into words what you’ve been worried all along. “i— no-“
“you will,” he cuts in, even softer this time. “gonna freeze up. overthink it. lad’ll think you don’t fancy him.”
you falter. then you sigh, slowly plopping down and sitting right on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking softly right beside him as he watches you.
his hand that’s holding yours drops until it’s resting on your lap, “s’okay. birdie…” he coos, letting go of your hand and caressing your thigh – reassuring, but he takes the opportunity to slip a finger under the hem of your skirt, like it’s accidental.
you’re so in your head you don’t even think too much about it. and it feels nice too…
“just… thought… about just— just going with it, you know?… see what happens…” you said quietly. you shifted your head so you could look at his eyes, but you didn’t quite meet his blue gaze back – too entranced by the sight of his hand sliding over your thighs, caressing it.
he gave your leg a soft squeeze, shaking his head. “nah, that’s rubbish, love…” he said lowly, still gliding his hand over your thigh, finally looking back at you like he was deeply concerned. “can’t have you goin’ out there clueless. not with a lad who doesn’t know you…” – he then did a little tsc with his tongue like he couldn’t stand at the thought – “that’s just not right. what if he tells his friends?”
your hands were shaking now, and he could tell if he pressed in a little further he could make you fucking cry. he won’t. not like this, at least. so he took your shaking hands into his, holding them gently.
“tell you what, though.” he says softly, like he’s offering you something harmless. “i’ll help you, yeah?”
you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing softly as you watched him shift. he sat straighter up, his broad back properly resting against your headboard now, legs slightly spread in the way men’s always are.
before you could even process what he was implying, even before heat could flush up to your cheeks at the mere thought, noel’s hands slowly moved.
his grip on your hands tightens just slightly, guiding you forward until your knees pressed into the mattress and then – just as easily – he’s pulling you onto his lap, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“there we go…” he murmurs, voice low, pleased with himself in a way that makes your lower belly tighten.
your body stiffens over his lap. because you’re wearing a skirt, and you know your body, don’t you? you know that this, just this, will already get you wound up. right over his lap, with too little pieces of fabric to disguise.
“noel…” you start quietly, even try to shift away so it doesn’t get that embarrassing.
but his hands find your hips, over the fabric of your skirt. they’re big, so the smallest amount of steadiness from his palms keeps you right where you are, in the gentlest, warmest way. “shhh… hey, s’alright. just easier to snog like this, innit?” he says easily, thumbs brushing small patterns on your hips.
you swallow, hands going to his shoulders to steady yourself. your heart is racing now. too fast, too loud. you nod anyway, because he’s right. he always sounds right.
he nods softly. a small smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as his hand moves to your back, rubbing it in gentle wide circles, while the other one approaches your face. “relax, yeah?” he says, brushing your hair back from your face before settling back on your thigh.
you nod again, nervously looking down at yourself straddling his lap. your skirt has ridden up a little with the movement, and his hands are resting warm against your thighs, now knuckles underneath the hem as he brushes slow, absentminded patterns that don’t feel absentminded at all.
he smirks as he follows your gaze. his hands slide a little higher, just under the hem of your skirt, fingertips grazing skin that feels too sensitive all of a sudden. “cute skirt, y’know,” he adds casually, like that’s all.
“we’ll just… practice a bit. then you’ll know what you’re doin’, yeah?” he shifts under you as he says it, casually. the movement makes you inhale shakily, anyway. your hands tighten on his shoulders without thinking.
maybe it’s the thickness of his jeans.
you don’t really know what an erection feels like. not properly, so definitely not when it’s pressed right up against you with barely anything in between. but there’s something there. something firm, warm, twitching slightly every time either of you move, and it makes you swallow harshly.
your hips shifting just slightly, involuntarily, like you’re trying to adjust, or maybe trying to understand the feeling better.
noel nearly smirks at the sight, because he knows what’s going on down there. and of course you’d react like that, wouldn’t you?
he doesn’t adress it, though. not yet.
his hands slowly slide from the front of your thighs to the side of your hips, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of the ass he’s unapologetically been staring at for the last hour or so.
he leans in, slowly.
then, he whispers, “no rush, yeah? just… follow my lead.”
his breath brushes your lips as he says it. the delicious mixture of mint gum and weed and cigarettes makes you dumbly nod, involuntarily leaning in as an attempt to meet him halfway.
the kiss starts slow.
at first, it’s a press of lips followed by a soft breath leaving your nostrils. you’re not quite sure what to do next, thankfully, noel’s hand goes to the side of your face, gently resting over your cheek and his thumb lightly pressing down on your chin so you can open your mouth for his tongue.
when it does, you can’t really stifle a tiny moan in. because his tongue feels so soft against yours, slow and perfectly warm. it only makes him hum, pleased, like he’s just proven a point. his hand slides down to the side of your neck while the other stays over the soft skin of your hip, feeling your muscles tense underneath his touch – he can even feel the way you’re throbbing right over his clothed, warm erection.
the kiss turns a little wetter, messier despite still slow. quiet little sounds – of your tongues moving, of the tiny and wet sounds of your lips smooching, of your breath catching – fill the room in between your shaky inhales.
the soft sounds could be passed as something sweet and tender if your knickers hadn’t been ruined already. it would be romantic if noel didn’t really know what he was doing to you. if it wasn’t on purpose, but all of it is. every soft squeeze he gives your thighs are filled with intention, every accidental shift of his hips is purposely to add the tiny pressure that makes you clench around nothing.
your hands don’t really know where to go at first, hovering awkwardly before finally settling on him, gripping at his shoulders, then sliding up. the soft absence of his hair slips right between your digits.
he moans at the feeling of your hands sliding over his neck, his shoulders, his jaw…
you feel it like a fucking lightning. because your body reacts to everything, to every slow drag of his tongue and every heavy breath he lets out. it doesn’t take much before your hips twitch over his lap, a small, involuntary movement that gives you away completely.
noel pulls back just enough to look at you, and his lips – smudged with your lipstick and slick with spit – are already curling up into a smirk.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, voice low, amused. he already knows the answer.
your chest moves faster than usual, your eyes search for his but nothing comes out of your stammering mouth.
his hands slide down your thighs again, slow and deliberate. he caresses the skin under your skirt like it’s nothing. “d’you wanna stop?…” he adds, softer.
but he doesn’t wait for an answer. instead, he slowly leans in until his lips are on your neck.
your breath catches instantly, your eyes flutter shut and your hands wrap around his biceps like you’re holding on for dear life. because you don’t want to stop – you just don’t know what’s happening to you. you’ve never felt this aroused before.
he continues leaving wet and slow kisses along your skin. his nose brushes under your ear and he takes in the sweet scent of the perfume you’d put on for another lad – he smirks to himself, because right now, your body keeps reacting to him.
you try to say something, but it comes out broken.
he pulls away then, looking at your glassy eyes. his hand slowly shifts to your face, brushing your hair away as he watches you, like he’s not doing all of this on purpose. “d’you wanna stop, darling?” he asks again, like he doesn’t know the answer already.
you shake your head eagerly, “n-no… no…”
he raises his brows, gentle and mocking all at once. still smirking. “no?” he asks softly, shaking his head just like you, but slower.
“no… it’s… it’s okay. don’t… don’t have to stop, noel” you try to reassure him calmly, like your head isn’t spinning.
“yeah?…” he asks sweetly, leaning in and pressing another kiss to your lips. he feels you trying to slide your tongue inside his mouth again, but he doesn’t do it back – he just smirks against your lips and carries on. “why d’you get all nervous, then?”
your mouth opens, closes again. your breath is uneven as you try to come up with something, because how do you even say it? that if you even move an inch he’ll be able to hear how wet you are?
but noel shakes his head slowly, “s’okay, love…” he murmurs, voice low as his hands slide over your ass – caressing and grabbing it softly, slowly. “can feel it, y’know.”
you swallow, eyebrows pinching together for a moment as he drags you over his crotch. he just hums in response, leaning in again and saying it against your lips: “fucking soaked through, baby. no need to lie, is there?”
you breathe out his name, needy.
he gives you a soft kiss, gentle, almost like he feels bad. “poor birdie. don’t even know what to do with it, do you?” he says quietly, fondly.
your face burns instantly, breath catching as you shake your head just a little, more instinct than anything else. far too gone to realize that you’re full on admitting it.
he just coos you in response, nodding softly, “yeah… i know, i know…”
his hands grab your ass a tad firmer, pulling you closer and making you shift on his lap. he guides you forward, making you slowly rub yourself over his hard and warm cock strained underneath his jeans. he shows you that he’s equally as turned, like it’s just part of the lesson. “feel that?” he says, quieter now, almost amused.
you let out another tiny moan, a shaky one as your head dips forward, forehead resting on the side of his neck as you nod, shyly.
he exhales softly through his nose. “see? feelin’ it too. means you’re doin’ it right, yeah?” he adds. his hands slide again, almost lazy and a tad bolder as they caress your inner thighs now. “hard as fuck. jus’ for you.”
you breathe out his name, eyebrows furrowing just from how bad you want it. his fingers come up again, brushing lightly over your jaw, turning your face just enough so he can look at you properly.
your lipstick is ruined. your lips a little swollen from kissing. your eyes are glassy in that pretty pleading way.
he shakes his head, caressing your cheek. “look at you…” he murmurs, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing it just a little more. “can’t send you out like this, can i?”
you blink at him, dazed. “y-yeah?” you whisper.
“yeah, darling. can't go out like this… date won’t be any good if you're this worked up. you'll be distracted. wouldn't be fair to the lad, yeah? need to clear your head first.”
you stammer a little, but he’s quick to cut off any logic thing you might say – he’s your friend, you’ve got a date, you’ve never done this before… anything that might keep you from crossing the line you desperately want to.
“nah, love… s’alright… just gotta help you first, don’t i? lemme make you feel good, then you go to your lad. how's that sound, hm?"
it sounds logical in the hazy fog of his scent and the ache between your legs – especially when his mouth is back at your neck again, slow and warm and distracting.
you nod dumbly, trusting his shitty excuse because you simply don't know any better, and noel always seemed to know everything.
“y-yeah…” you breathe out.
“yeah? sounds good?” he asks softly, already sliding his palm upwards your inner thigh.
you nod eagerly, eyes glassy as you watch his face and the way he’s completely mesmerized by your needy expression. he’s mirroring your action and nodding back, nearly mocking and fully smug.
his finger press down your needy clit over the drenched fabric of your knickers, your hands immediately grasp his shoulders.
his brows furrow for a moment. “fuck… look how wet you are…” he says it lowly, nearly breathing it out, like he’s impressed and feels bad at the same time.
you moan as he starts circling your clit, eyes tightening shut as he drags out the pad of his fingertips over the slick fabric.
“n-noel… i…”
“what, hm?”
“please…”
he smirks at your plea, tipping his chin and saying lowly, “this ain’t enough f’you, hm?”
you let out a shaky huff, shyly shaking your head no. noel hums in response, leaning in to give you another slow kiss. his tongue drags warm and lazy against yours, and you melt into it immediately, hips pathetically searching for more of his touch.
then, his fingers slide underneath the lace. you break the kiss with a gasp, one that immediately becomes a moan. he presses a soft peck over your lips, the corner of your mouth – the fabric clinging to his knuckles doesn’t stopping him from circling your clit with a ridiculous precision you’ve only fantasized about.
“better?” he asks quietly, lips brushing yours again like he’s being gentle.
you nod desperately, your bottom lip feels a little sore from how much you’ve been biting it. he breathes out a tiny laugh at it, shaking his head once to himself as his gaze trails down your body.
his eyes land on your thighs spread for him right over his lap. your skirt is pushed up, allowing him to watch his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, the drenched fabric pulled to the side exposing you to him.
the wet and soft sounds of his fingers working your cunt make him lick his lips, tilting his head so he can even get a better look – furrowing his thick eyebrows nearly in pleasure just at the sight.
“such a pretty cunt you’ve got here, love” he praises, and his voice makes your head spin – tipping to the side without you even meaning to, eyes closing and lips agape as you softly pant.
he hums at your needy sounds, but his eyes stay fixed where you’re soaking his fingers. “mhm… look how wet it is…” he says nearly absentmindedly as he watches it attentively, like he wants to commit the sight to memory. “so pretty… looks so sweet…” he murmurs, lower now.
his free hand moves closer, his index and middle fingers spread your lips apart, his other hand still slowly stimulating your clit in gentle and precise circles.
“no one else has ever touched you here, yeah? just me, innit?” he asks barely above a whisper.
you shake your head, fast and eager and needy. he hums in response, slowly nodding like he’s almost proud of the fact. not pulling his eyes away from your cunt even for a second.
his two fingers rubbing your clit widen the motion, slowly, until they’re teasing right over your entrance – picking up the wetness you’re letting out and feeling you clench around nothing. but he didn't go in.
he just keeps teasing your needy opening. dragging down… and taking a little longer to go back to your clit again. then, he repeats like it’s nothing, like you’re not a whimpering mess already, nearly begging.
because he wants to hear it.
“please,” you breathe it out, whispered like you’re embarrassed by it. your head involuntarily shifts closer to him, lips accidentally bumping against his jaw. “noel… please. please, noel…”
he smirks, only then looking up. “what?… d’you want me to put it in?” he asks, breath warm against your lips. slowing down even more.
your breath stutters, and you nod eagerly. your hands clutch at the sides and back of his neck, forehead nearly pressing against his. “p-please,” you beg, and it comes out small, needy. breaking around the edges. “i’ve… i’ve done it myself. it’s okay, you can—”
he smirks even wider. his lips press against yours a little firmer now, his finger pushed in just enough to tease you, then away.
“yeah?” he says roughly, still quiet. his head tilts just slightly, eyes dragging over your face and taking in how you’re trying to not break the kiss. “you have, have you?”
you nod, fast, desperate. already dragging him for another kiss, panting a little harder.
then, he moves his hand away. the stammering protests die in your throat as he speaks, before you can chase his touch again.
“show me then.”
your heart drops. heat crawls up to your face so fast you feel like it could explode your head. “w-what?”
he keeps his eyes on your face when he takes your hand – his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist before you can even think about pulling away. he looks down to watch his hand guiding yours.
“show me how you do it when you’re alone, love” he murmurs, like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world.
you hesitate, eyebrows furrowing softly. he does a soft ‘tsc’ with his tongue, his thumb caressing your wrist while his other hand rests on your thigh, spreading them further on his lap. he tips his chin towards you softly, the way when he’s silently saying cmon.
“said you’ve done it before, sweetheart. let me see how you like it, hm?”
he can feel your hand shaking, he can see how you swallow roughly at his request and at how he’s not letting you back out in the gentle, softest tone.
you don’t pull away, you simply obey.
your hand trembles so violently it’s a miracle you can even find your own entrance, but the moment your own skin touches the slick, swollen folds of your cunt, a tiny sob catches in your throat.
he hums quietly as he keeps the gentle grip on your wrist, pushing your hand softly until your digit slips, so easily it feels like you’re doing it all on your own. you’re so wet it’s effortless, your hole greedily swallowing your finger as you start a slow pace.
it’s different when he’s watching – everything feels hotter, shameful and perfect all at once. and his voice, his hands, his smell… him. everything about it makes your head spin.
“that’s it…” he murmurs, almost under his breath, pleased. “good girl…”
his words makes your movements falter for half a second before picking back up again. your finger slides in and out so slowly it makes a gushy noise every time – one that’s like music to noel’s ears. you curl them softly every time you push in, but it’s not enough to reach your most sensitive spot.
his thumbs dig in softly in the flesh of your thighs every time a tiny moan slips out of you. noel’s eyes are blown wide, tracking every movement of your hand, lips parting as he watches.
he nods absentmindedly, not pulling his gaze away. he shifts one of his hand, pressing his palm over the aching bulge that’s formed inside his trousers, while his other thumb keeps brushing soft patterns on your inner thigh.
“how many, hm?” he asks quietly, voice dipping lower as his head tilts slightly, eyes dragging back up to your face. “how many fingers have you put in, hm?”
you whimper softly, clenching around your own finger and closing your eyes as you furrow your brows, shyly. “noel…”
his hand resting on your inner thigh moves until the pad of his thumb presses over your clit. you gasp at the feeling, head tipping back and the words escaping before you can even realize.
“t-fuck. one… one, noel”
“yeah, love? just like that, then, yeah?” he asks softly, still drawing slow circles on your clit as your own finger slides in and out. you nod, desperately – his other hand immediately shifting to the button of his jeans at the sight.
his thumb keeps moving as he slowly drags his own zipper down. like he’s in no rush at all.
“and what d’ya think about, hm?” he murmurs, voice low.
your breath hitches, your head shakes faintly, more instinct than anything else.
“course you do, love,” he cuts in softly before you can even try to deny it. his thumb presses just a little more firmly, enough to make another moan catch in your throat again. “everyone does…”
your head drops foward, face now buried on the side of his neck as your hips stutter. he smirks to himself, turning his head enough to whisper right in your ear.
“what d’you think about when you’re fingering your pretty cunt, hm?"
your lips part, and his name slips past them in a soft, broken moan that makes his mouth twitch. it makes him nod, smug and satisfied. like he’s praising you for giving him the correct answer.
“mhm… that’s it” he praises softly. his hand slides up the back of your neck, his fingers are firm and tender all at once as they thread into your hair, guiding your mouth back to his.
and yet again, you’re too deep in the feeling of his tongue on yours to even form a coherent thought. to even keep moving your finger inside yourself. all you notice is him shifting underneath you, his hips lifting off the mattress just so he can drag his trousers down, enough to free his leaking and hard cock.
his hand in your hair tightens just enough to pull you back, breaking the kiss before you can chase it again.
you whimper softly at the loss, mouth slightly agape, breath uneven. he gives you a soothing peck on your parted lips, then the corner of your mouth.
then, his grip shifts, guiding your chin downward so you can see his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly.
it looks intimidatingly real in the dim light – his tip is flushed and leaking, the soft hairs on his crotch make you start moving your finger inside yourself cunt again, and the way he’s touching himself right now makes you let out a shaky moan.
he’s fucking big, too. not that you have someone else’s to actually compare to, but you’re aware that that’s the “a lot” your girlfriends talk about once they’re sharing their sex experiences in between class breaks.
it makes your head spin in nerves and excitement all at once.
the soft, shaky breath you let out seems to make him stroke himself with a little more intent. he lets out a low moan at the friction just to make you loose it a bit more. his fingers tighten in your hair without even meaning to, and he doesn’t move your head even an inch, because he wants you to watch – just like he’s been doing to you for the past few minutes. your fingers curling in and out like you don’t know what to do with them anymore.
he raises his brows in mock innocence at your reaction, like he didn’t even see it coming. like he has no idea what it’s about.
fuck me, if the birds he’s slept with had that reaction and they aren’t even virgins, he can only imagine what you’re gonna be like once his cock is fucking you relentlessly.
he’s no monster – he’s a prick, sure. but he’ll start slow, right? he’ll make sure you’re soaked like this once he slides in. he’ll only pick up the pace once you beg for it, and he knows you will. he knows you’ll look so pretty doing it, too. even prettier than now, and that’s fucking hard to top. he strokes himself faster at the mere thought.
“what?… look how hard i am, love,” he says, coyly and quieter, enough to make your stomach flip. “hurts, y’know.”
and before you can think too much about it, he’s guiding your hand away from your dripping cunt. you whimper softly at the absence of stimulation, but then, he’s making you wrap your hand around his own length. "do it f’me, darlin’. help me out, will you?"
his hand is over yours, both wrapped around his cock as he strokes up and down slowly. like he’s showing you something rather than asking.
you watch it like you’re hypnotized. how pretty his slit looks with pre cum smeared all over it, how the heat and the velvet-soft skin feel good underneath your touch. you start to stroke him on your own, his hand slowly letting go of yours as you mimick the way he just taught you.
noel lets out a moan deep from the back of his throat, moving his hands until they’re grabbing your inner thighs a little firmer now at the pleasure. “there we go…” he says softly, watching your hand work him. “fuck, darling…”
you pick up your gaze until it’s on his face again, being met with the sight of his lips slightly parted, blue eyes glued to your hand stroking him up and down. you furrow your brows softly at it, swallowing down a tiny whimper as you involuntarily shift on his lap, searching for any friction you can get.
and just like he could read your mind, one of his hands leave your thigh. he brings two fingers to his own mouth, wrapping his lips around the thick digits, swirling his tongue around them enough to make them slick. then, he guides them to your neglected pretty entrance.
he pushes two fingers in without any resistance. you let out a shaky moan, head dipping forward and grip tightening around him as you try to steady yourself. you moan his name, broken and needy – not from pain, because you’re so wet right now you feel like you could take all of him without batting an eye.
he hums at that. smug and pleased, but his hips twitching upwards tell on him, that he’s fully loosing it just like you. “that’s it, love… fuck. do it f’me and i’ll do it for you, yeah?” he adds. his tone is coaxing, but the roughness in his voice makes you clench around his fingers without even meaning to.
your breath stutters, movements turning uneven for a second before trying to find some kind of rhythm again. you’re clumsy and still a little shy, but the way you’re looking at him, feels like you’re fucking begging for it.
he curls his fingers inside you, the angle is a little awkward in between limbs moving sloppily and needy – but he gets it right. it makes you moan the loudest than you have so far, eyes falling shut and eyebrows furrowing as his thumb finds your clit at the same time his thick fingers slowly fuck you.
your hand starts working him faster, needier. your free one digs into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, sliding to the back of his neck like you’re fully loosing it.
he smirks at your reaction, nodding to himself and grunting lowly every time his hips meet your hand. every time, the filthy wet sounds of his fingers fucking you get even louder.
you start babbling his name, and he taunts you with a “yeah?” that neither of you know what it’s referring to. you nod dumbly anyway, breath hitching as you try to follow his pace, try to match him, even though everything feels too much already.
your body shakes over his from pleasure and from movement of him fucking your hand. it doesn’t stop him from leaning closer, his free hand tugging the cut from your top down until your breasts are exposed to him – he closes the distance sloppily, greedy as his mouth latches onto your nipple, widely swirling his tongue around it and sucking it. your nails dig into the back of his neck, searching for something to hold onto as the feeling keeps tightening.
you choke out a moan that’s nearly a cry, head tipping back and lips parting as you pant. “fuck… n-noel… i… oh my god, noel…” you blabber, hips now grinding against his palm.
he keeps thrusting into your hand, only pulling his mouth off from your tits to moan against your mouth, tongue sloppy and uncoordinated as he swallows your moans. “gonna cum f’me?” he murmurs, teeth grazing your flushed lips.
you nod, desperately.
“c’mon then. such a tight fucking cunt, baby. want it all over my hand, yeah? cum all over my fingers, cmon.” he grunts.
with a last curl of his fingers, a last press of his thumb right over your sensitive bundle of nerves, you came undone.
fucking hard, you did. your moans now sounding nearly pornographic as you squeeze noel’s fingers so hard he even doubts for a second that he’ll be able to play guitar for the next couple of days.
eh, he wouldn’t really mind.
you threw your head back, mouth falling agape and needy broken moans escaping. your breath was coming out shaky, hitching. little high pitched whimpers filling the room, mixing the wet and gushy sounds of noel’s fingers fucking your cunt relentlessly.
he watched, chin propped up so he could look up and take every bit of your reaction. your free hand slid up the back of his neck desperately, in need to grab onto something or you’d might die from how intense it all felt.
he smirked at the realization – nothing there anymore, is it? he buzzed it right off.
he remembers last week, when he’d just arrived at the pub with the new haircut. your reaction was adorable, stuttering as you realized how fucking fit your mate, your best friend, looked. even while tom chatted you up, he could catch your nervous gaze snap back to him.
pfft, what a fucking joke, this tom lad. if he thought that was bad, imagine now, eh?
your nails digged in his scalp, his lips curled into a smug smirk parting enough so a low moan could escape.
your hand went limp around him, unable to keep up. but he doesn't mind. he covers your hand with his own, his hard cock messily sliding upwards into your shaky grip as he watched your orgasm wash over. he thrusts one, two, three more times into your palm until he spills over, too.
hot spurts of his cum land right over the fabric of your cute skirt, over the soft skin of your thigh and knuckles.
his chest heaves, forehead dropping to rest against your neck. only then his fingers finally stop. he feels you pulsing around them for a few more seconds. his free hand rests over your ass, sliding up your back as your body trembles over his.
after a few seconds of your heavy breaths being the only thing filling up the room, noel slowly withdraws his fingers out of you. the wet sound echoes in the silence, a tiny over sensitive whimper from you make him breathe out a tiny laugh despite himself.
“fuck me…” he breathes out. then, he pulls away to look down at the mess. his brows raise in amusement, his smirk grows even wider. “ruined that.”
you don’t adress it. fuck me indeed, the house could burn down now for all you care.
“noel…” you say again, softer this time. needy and shy from how much you want it. you’re still breathing hard, still shaky, still clinging to him like you don’t quite know how to ask for it.
his eyes flick back to yours, and he looks so pleased. so smug.
he only raises his brows, like he’s saying go on.
your hands slide up the back of his head, nearly apologetic for the mess you’re making. but you just shake your head as you lean closer, eyes glassy and pleading as you give him a soft kiss on the mouth.
“don’t…” your voice falters as you say it quietly against his lips. “please, noel… i don’t wanna stop…”
you feel him smiling against your mouth, his hands shifting until they’re back on your ass again. he slowly squeezes the soft flesh, barely kissing you back and breathing out into the slow glide of your tongues. “yeah?… don’t wanna stop, hm?”
you shake your head, quick and needy, your fingers still curled at the nape of his neck, keeping him close.
he hums softly, still tracing patterns on your hips and ass. he nods a little, then looks down. “i mean... that’s fucking done for, that.” he murmurs. not sounding sorry in the slightest, still smirking. “shame. y’looked dead pretty in it.“
you don’t even argue, you just lean in again, pressing another soft, desperate kiss to his mouth, like that’s your answer. like you don’t care about anything else anymore.
his hands tighten slightly on your ass at that, grounding and unapologetic all at once. “easy…” he coos, quieter now, nose brushing yours. “gotta sort that date out first, yeah?”
you whine, eyebrows furrowing and your lips nearly shifting into a needy pout. “noel…”
"gonna give it to ya, love... just be a good girl and call the poor lad, yeah?” he says, nearly buttery from how soft it is – it makes you want him to ruin you even more.
“now?…” you ask quietly, blinking up at him.
“yeah, now.” he says softly, brushing your hair out of your face. “can't have him standing there outside the pub like a fucking muppet, can we?“
you take in a shaky breath, nodding. he nods back, giving your ass tiny encouraging pats, watching you slowly shift off from his lap.
you lick your lips as you lay down on your stomach, propping yourself on your elbows so you can reach for the telephone and punch in the digits.
your heart is still hammering inside your chest when it starts ringing. you swallow gruffly, because you feel noel’s hand caressing your calf – a soft reminder that he’s very much still watching.
“hello?”
“t-tom?…”
“oh, hey. was about to leave the house, actually. you’re on your way t—“
“tom, i… i’m sorry. i think i’ve come down with something.” you said shakily, the air leaving your nostrils as you heard noel shifting behind you and the soft thud of his shirt falling on the floor.
your eyes were closed as tightly as your hand around the phone, listening to tom's unenthusiastic and nearly confused "oh." on the other line.
you couldn't see how noel was still smirking – his mouth still stained with your lipstick as he slowly settled more comfortably on the mattress, sitting on his heels right between your legs.
"well... what... are you feeling? are you alright?" tom asked.
you took in a deep breath so you could reply without your voice breaking. but just then, you felt noel's hands unhurriedly guide you until your knees were deep inside the mattress, ass arched up until you were perfectly exposed to him in a way that made your cheeks burn.
"i'm... i'm okay. i'm just... i have a really bad fever."
"right..." tom answered after a pause. "that's... well, that’s unfortunate."
"yeah." you swallowed.
behind you, the mattress dipped again. noel's hands settled on your asscheeks, lifting the fabric of your skirt until it was out of the way – he let out a low groan at the sight of the delicate fabric drenched, clinging onto your folds.
your forehead pressed deeper against the mattress as you felt him gently apply pressure over the fabric, drawing out torturous wide and slow circles over your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness cling onto the pad of his fingers. "i know, i... i'm really sorry." you added, but it came out broken.
tom didn't notice, apparently. "we can go out another night, if you want."
"yeah— that... yeah. that's alright." you managed, though your voice came out quieter than intended.
tom started talking about another place the two of you could go to, but behind you, noel leaned closer.
your whole body tensed with the sensation of his warm breath brushing such a sensitive spot, and the fever was about to become real once you felt the tip of his nose rubbing up and down your folds, hands gripping your flesh harder at your scent and his mouth watering from how wet you were.
your hand immediately flew to your mouth, covering a shaky and breathy gasp, coming out broken while tom talked about another restaurant down his street, a fancier one. you couldn't name what kind of food they served there even with a gun pressed on your temple, because the pressure of noel's nose was maddening.
and as if it couldn't get any worse, or better, his tongue slowly darted out – leaving a wet, slow and messy kiss right over your knickers. like the mess your own arousal made on the fabric wasn't enough.
a small tear formed on the corner of your eye, the hand covering your mouth shaking as you tried to keep quiet. noel hummed quietly against your clothed cunt, not even pulling his mouth away as he hooked his finger into the edge of the lace, pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose you.
you gasped softly, feeling his warm mouth pull away only an inch so his blue eyes could settle on your cunt. glistening and already puffy from his fingers, but still aching and throbbing for more.
"well... get some rest, yeah? hope you feel better." tom said on the phone.
your fuzzy brain could only think of an "okay" as a response, but noel's tongue leaning closer and slowly licking your clit cut you off immediately with another shaky gasp, making you instantly press your palm harder against your mouth.
you clenched around nothing, brows needily furrowing and back arching despite your cheeks heating up. at how dirty all this felt. at how his tongue was completely unhurried as it teased you, the intention clear: he wanted you to fall apart.
now, his lips slowly closed around your clit, softly sucking while his hands fondled your shaky thighs.
"sure you're okay?" tom asked, nearly concerned.
"yes! i... yeah. i'm sorry, tom. i'll... yeah, i'll get better. i'm so sorry." you stammered, and you could feel noel smiling against you, pulling away with a soft wet noise and guiding his fingers closer to your entrance. they didn't slide in, just applied enough pressure to spread your lips, watching how your needy hole dripped for him. just for him.
"it's alright. see you soon, then." tom said.
"o-okay... bye." you said quickly, immediately biting your bottom lip since you didn't trust yourself to keep quiet once your shaky hand placed the phone on its handle. fast, clumsy and desperate.
at the sound of the soft plastic thud indicating the call was finally over, your face buried inside the mattress. a small amount of drool smeared over the soft cotton sheets past your parted lips.
you let out a long and broken whine, muffled into the mattress as your hips helplessly twitched against his hands.
“there’s a good girl,” noel murmured, his voice dropping. he didn't give you a second to catch your breath as his two fingers, still slick with you, stretched you open with a deliberate push.
you bucked against his hand, a sharp gasp cutting through the quiet bedroom as your fingers tightly grasped the bedsheets. "noel..." you moaned his name needily.
he breathed out a small chuckle at your tone. “fucking hell, look at you,” he muttered under his breath, nearly amused.
even as he straightned his back, properly placed behind you now, his eyes never left your entrance swallowing his digits, you were so fucking wet taking him wouldn't even be that big of a problem. his thumb found your swollen clit as he thought, pressing down with a soft pressure that had your voice breaking into another needy whimper.
“so wet for me. didn't think it'd be this easy.”
“noel— please, noel,” you cried out, muffled by the soft bed. your back arched helplessly, trying to push yourself deeper onto his hand, silently begging for him to stop teasing.
he only hummed in response, a cruel and pleased sound, before his hand shifted.
his palm rubbed your back upwards before it settled on the nape of your neck, fingers tangling inside your hair. he tugged your head back until his mouth was right by your ear, gluing your back onto his chest, firm and tender all at once.
“drivin’ me fucking mad, love.” he breathed out, teeth grazing your earlobe and the delicate earring dangling, while his breath – hot and ragged – made goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.
your hand shook as it reached out for his hip, nails involuntarily digging in as you felt and heard the distinct rustle of fabric behind you from his free hand shoving his pants down to his thighs.
he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, despite his fingers tigthening inside your hair. “just needed to stretch y'out first, don’t i?” he whispered in your ear.
whatever words were sitting on your tongue died as soon as his hand wrapped around his cock, shifting closer until his shaft was directly pressed against you, sliding and teasing up and down your soaking wet folds without actually pushing in.
the friction made your breath hitch, softly crying out. “please… fuck, please.”
he let out a low and breathy laugh, teeth grazing your cheek softly as a smirk grew on his lips. "i know. i know, darling." he cooed, nearly condescending.
he only looked down to watch his cock sliding underneath the edge of your panties, his length perfectly fitting between your glistening lips – amused at the sight, slowly pushing his hips to make his cock slide between your folds without actually pushing in.
the feeling of his sensitive head brushing the damp lace made him hiss softly, but he didn't stop. “d’you want it?” he asked quietly, nibbling your jaw.
you couldn't even form a coherent word, brain entirely fried. you just moaned loudly, nodding your head frantically despite his firm grip inside your hair.
his hand sharply met the flesh of your ass, catching you off guard and pulling out a high-pitched moan from you.
“ask nice,” he commanded, firm. but his mouth placed another sweet kiss on your cheek right after. his hand went down to where your bodies almost met, pressing his palm firmer against his cock so the friction felt meaner. "c'mon, love. can do better than that, hm?"
you nodded desperaly, the words stumbling out of your mouth. “please, noel… please fuck me.” you sobbed, a stray tear spilling.
“think it’s too big f’ya, love. don’t y’think?” he taunted, gaze dropping past the curve of your spine, watching his length dissapearing underneath the fabric, sliding between your folds and coming out glistening with your arousal.
you shook your head desperately. “can— can handle it. want it. please, please…” you choked out in a broken whimper.
another wet kiss on your cheek, another harsh squeeze on your ass. "yeah?" he teased quietly,
you whimpered in protest as he pulled his warm cock away from you. but then, his hands guided you back into all fours, slowly and firmly.
your fingers immediately grabbed the sheets in anticipation. your forehead pressed into the mattress, tears softly wetting the cotton as your back arched even more.
you couldn't see it, but a smug smirk grew on his lips at the sight, not pulling his gaze away even when his hands were busy reaching for his wallet. a soft crinkling sound of a foil wrapper tearing open made you look behind you.
his palm settled on your ass again, sliding underneath the messy hem and caressing your skin, gentler now. his free hand rolled the rubber along his shaft, head tilting. “think y’can take my cock like this, hm?” noel muttered.
you didn't really know what the reply was, not rationally, at least. but you nodded anyway, swallowing gruffly despite wanting him so bad you thought it might kill you.
then, his hands slowly hooked into the waistband of your panties. he dragged them down your shaking thighs slowly, watching a thick, glistening trail of wetness visibly connecting your swollen folds to the fabric, the elastic strained around your knees.
the cold air of your room clashed against your skin, making your head feel even fuzzier.
your head tilted to the side, cheek resting over the mattress and eyes immediately landing on some stuffed animals already scattered over the bed, breath hitching. then, you looked at him behind you, eyebrows furrowed in such a needy way it made him physically remember himself to take it slow.
he let out a low, breathy laugh at your reaction. "i know," he whispered, reaching over to grab the small plushie sitting on the corner of the bed. he turned it around with a smirk so its beaded eyes faced the wall. "there. don't need 'em watching, do we."
hovering over you, with his hand wrapped around his cock and guiding himself towards your entrance, he stared down at the view and swore to himself he’d never seen a cunt so wet before, or a bird that’s begged so pretty like you.
he guided the heavy head of his cock right to your untouched entrance, pausing for a second to look at your face before he slowly pushing in. his mouth leaned down closer to your cheek the second you gasped softly at the stretch – a low grunt escaping from his lips at your cunt fluttering around him, so fucking wet it nearly sucked him in.
but he still pushed in slowly. agonizingly slow. a needy sound caught in your throat, vision going white as your body naturally clamped down around his length.
he grunted as his hips slowly slid in.
“look at you takin’ my cock, baby,” noel choked out, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he pushed through the nearly absent resistance, filling you completely. “fuck." – he kissed your pulse point – "fucking made for it.”
he let you adjust, his hands slid up from your hips, smoothing over the arch of your spine and soothing your back, "good?" he murmured against your skin, checking in.
you couldn't even form a syllable. you just choked out a breathless whimper, nodding against the mattress as your fingers digged deeper into the sheets. you were stretched so fucking full, the smeared mascara underneath your eyes smudging the duvet.
he let out a low, rough laugh, pleased with the pathetic sound you made. "fuck," he breathed out, amused. "doesn't hurt?"
you just whimpered in response, squirming underneath his weight pressed over your back. his free hand moved closer to your face, elbow propping himself up and palm meeting your cheek in two light taps. "hey, don't go all dumb on me, c'mon."
you inhaled, coming in a hitched breath. you shook your head softly, "just... it's okay."
"sure y'alright?" he asked again. his crotch was still firmly pressed against your asscheeks, fully inside you now.
"please." you whispered, broken and needy.
he breathed out a laugh, amused. his palm craddled your face and his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.
"fucking hell, please what?" he asked quietly, leaning in and kissing your lips even though you couldn't fully kiss him back, not when you were still getting used to the fullness.
his lips bumped into his own thumb, taking in a deep breath and feeling his cock twitch at the feeling of your tongue fully loose and fully dumbed down against his. "please fuck you, that it?" he whispered against your mouth, his free hand gripping your hip harder.
you gave another needy nod, your ass arching instinctively, silently begging.
he smirked, despite feeling his cock throb inside you, equally as needy. "yeah?" noel muttered.
you whimpered, tongue brushing the pad of his finger, eyes looking up at him even glassier than before. needier. “please, fuck me…”
at your plea, he straightening his back with a rough moan, his palms properly positioned you back into all fours.
and then he pulled back. the friction of his condom-clad cock dragging against your tight walls made your vision blurry, a sharp sob tore from your chest as you felt the loss of his warmth close to you. but before you could even process the emptiness, he drove back in. slow and heavy, bottoming in again.
"god, fuck." he groaned, hips grinding heavily against your ass. his blue eyes watching the way you took him so pretty. "wish you could see it. fucking swallowing me."
the mental image made your skin burn, a hot flush spreading over your face and neck as he pulled out, slowly, only to push in again with the same depth.
"so fucking tight," he breathed out, hands grabbing your hips harder and pulling you back into him – the sounds of his hips slapping your flesh making everything feel dirtier, the wet sounds of his cock stretching you out making you whimper helplessly. "gonna milk me fucking dry before i even get a proper go, aren't ya?"
the pace was excruciatingly slow, he held onto a steady rhythm like he didn't trust himself to fully let go. the feeling had you weeping into the mattress, shaky and needy moans escaping your lips with every thrust.
you didn't know what it was like at a fast pace, all you knew is that you needed more. all you knew was that the pain already faded away.
you wanted him to do whatever he wanted, sure that it would be exactly what you needed.
“noel— please, noel, want... fuck, more.” you babbled.
he leaned down, “i know, love. i know,” he cooed. his teeth gently grazed your neck met your shoulder. the sting only added to the feeling of his hips finally picking up the pace. “look at you, taking all of it and already begging for more, christ.”
before you could ask for anything else, his hand reached out to yours, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist and guiding it between your legs. "rub yourself f'me, sweetheart. can you do that?" he instructed gently, nibbling your earlobe and smirking against it the second you gasped at the new friction.
as his back straightened again, hands tight on your hips, your fingers just followed his lead, sloppily rubbing circles around your clit.
the action immediately made you pulse harder around him, reaching an unbearable amount of pleasure. his deep strokes were hitting you perfectly, and the friction against your swollen bundle of nerves made your entire body shiver.
you began clench around his shaft in tight, helpless pulses. your needy moans getting so loud not even the mattress could muffle them properly anymore.
behind you, noel let out a low string of curses, large hands pulling your hips back into him. his eyes were stuck on his cock dissapearing inside you, slick with your wetness every time he pulled out just to drive himself back in faster.
“fuck, that’s it,” he grunted lowly. he began to fuck you heavily and fast, watching you squirm underneath him – fingers helplessly speeding up as you felt the tightness in your belly tighten.
the loud and wet sounds of his cock splitting you open and your sweet moans made him throw his head back in pleasure.
“already fucking coming, aren’t ya?" – he picked his gaze up again, not bearing the thought of not watching you underneath him – "squeeze it tight, love. fuck, cmon. that's it.”
you screamed his name into the mattress, your whole body shaking as your orgasm crashed like a tidal wave. noel himself wasn't far behind, with one last deep thrust, hot spurts of his cum spilled inside the condom, his head tipping back with a low moan as his hips stuttered.
neither of you moved for a couple of minutes – your body collapsed softly over the bed and his followed, chest over your back, keeping you pinned and ruined beneath him. all you could do was pant and feel your limbs softly shake.
noel was the first one to snap out of the sirupy athmosphere inside your bedroom. his forehead pressed softly over your shoulderblade as he cursed softly under his breath, eyes closing tightly shut with a small hiss as he slowly pulled out, steadying the condom around him with his fingers.
your immediate instinct was to hide, legs curling up softly while he sat down on the mattress, hands busy with tying the condom.
no one really talked about this part, where you have to figure out what the hell you're supposed to say with a head still fuzzy from your first ever earth-shaterring orgasm.
luckily, his eyes landed on you.
and then, he broke into a tiny and breathy laugh, settling himself beside you, hand reaching out towards your face and pushing the messy hair out of the way. "what? cat got your tongue or summat?"
that made you relax again, eyes closing and lips softly curling up. "stop that."
he laughed quietly, letting his hand linger on the side of your neck.
"i probably look crazy now." you said quietly, referring to the mess around your eye lids.
he broke into another quiet laugh again, shaking his head. "look pretty, yeah? don't fret." reaching out, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, picking up the smudged tint of your lipstick on the pad of his finger. your eyes closed, still smiling softly despite it all.
"you okay?" he asked quietly, head finally clear enough to snap back into the gentle noel you were familiar with. you nodded in response, he hummed softly at it. pleased and tired. "was it good for you?"
your eyes opened at it, eyebrows furrowing in that suspicious way that immediately made a weary expression settle on his face. "what?" he asked quietly.
you scoffed lightly, "you just wanna hear me say it."
he laughed, finally catching on. then, he shrugged, playful now. "maybe." he said, you hummed, wore out – he noticed, another huff of a laugh immediately escaped him. "cmon, let's get you cleaned up."
cw: lover boy pre-fame!liam <3; established relationship; fluff; drug use; food play-ish; high sex; oral f. receiving; breeding kink-ish.
𑣲 word count: 5k. ˊˎ-
wn: word vomit alert !!!! sorry it took me soooo long to write for liam omg this is so embarrassing, but here’s a little cutesy something that blossomed because of a conversation with the lovely @robinavitchwdc !! hope you guys enjoy
your relationship with liam has been perpetuated by “special first times” ever since the second the two of you met.
it happened at the opening night of a new pub in manchester, which immediately meant that itself would already be a thing – what can you do? in shitholes like this, so much as a different colored bird flying by turned out to be a fuss.
but the bar, you see, had nothing special. the cool drinks promised in the flier handed out downtown were watered down and impossible to attain in less than 20 minutes, since the place was packed – even the lagers, with potential to save the night, were warm. fucking hell.
the incredible band all the way from london was nothing but four lads with gel in their hairs and a self esteem that did not match their vocal skills.
the chips were cold, soggy and underseasoned. and that was the last straw for you, since all you sipped on was a can of coca cola and a water bottle to try to make up for all you had sweated inside – the place so packed not even the ac could save it.
you pushed the door open, an annoyed expression on your face as you walked to the curb. it was the only place you could at least hear your thoughts, desperately trying to come up with a plan to get home.
“alright?”
a male voice disturbed your thinking process, and the second your head turned, you realized a very pretty face came along with it.
within five minutes, you learnt his name was liam.
ten minutes in, that liam was your age. that he had three brothers and a mum that will be canonized the moment she passes.
twenty minutes in, that he was in a band with his older brother and a few of his mates. and even though you had never heard of it, “we’re proper sound, we are. done a gig in scotland last week.” he explained.
he didn’t mention the van breaking down in the middle of the road, that didn’t seem proper rock and roll – at least not when chatting up a pretty bird that looked bored out of her skull.
thirty minutes later, with a sore ass from sitting on the harsh curb pavement and an aching jaw from laughing so much, you finally left the pub.
not to shag or anything, no. that came another day. that disastrous pub opening night, all you did was sit across him in a cushioned booth while sharing fish and chips, telling him to stop talking so you could swallow your food without choking from laughing so much.
that evening, liam walked you home. on the way, he was torn between holding your hand or placing an arm around your shoulder – ended up being the second option, seemed bolder. proper rock and roll star, he thought.
but the moment he dropped you off on your doorstep, that remaining boyish part of him took over. he rubbed the back of his neck as he asked you for your phone number, and he laughed once you told him not to call at night, since your dad was home.
as liam was on the process of building up the courage to kiss you, considering if he would cradle your cheeks and slowly pull you in, or just step closer with a hand on your waist and give you a kiss worthy from a romantic movie – the kind of lovey dovey shite birds liked – just to knock the breath out of you, you stood on your tippy toes and stole a kiss yourself.
definitely drunk on adrenaline, but as giddy as him once it was over – both standing there with cheeks flushed and stupid smiles on your faces. he tripped over his feet while walking away and you fumbled with your keys to let yourself in, both still laughing.
that very first night was special, and it had inevitably set the standard for the following meetings.
the first time watching him perform really did knock the air out of your lungs. you rolled your eyes once his whole face shifted into that smug expression the second you told him so. that was the first night he kissed you in public, wrapping his arms around your waist and flipping noel off just because he groaned at the public display of affection, making you laugh even harder.
the first time he bought you flowers wasn’t special because of the same reason it is to everyone else – the romanticism of it all was there, yes. but it was remarkable, mostly, because he couldn’t get five consecutive words in without sneezing. even when doing something so important such as asking you to be his girlfriend.
the first time you slept together was also your first time. and you’ll never forget how sweet he was, soothing your brain bubbling with nerves. you’ll also never forget how he nicked a bottle of wine from his mother’s cabinet, just in case you wanted it to relax even more.
that night, he checked in every chance he had – as his mouth traveled down your neck, as his hand slid underneath your shirt. even as you panted after your first orgasm, softly asking if you were alright with his lips slick from your arousal, chin glistening as it rested on the top of your thigh, his broad hands soothing your skin.
he watched your face closely for any sign of discomfort as he slowly slid inside you. your eyes closed at the stretch, missing the way his eyebrows softly furrowed at your tightness, wishing badly he could feel you without a layer of rubber in the way.
he moved slowly and only afterwards you said he could. sharing wet and slow kisses, moaning quietly inside one another’s mouths – making him force himself to think about that terrible car accident he had seen on the telly last week just so he wouldn’t finish too fast.
he remembers the first time you shyly asked him if you could suck him off. a breathless and disbelieving laugh escaped his lips immediately, like no answer other than “yes” existed to that question.
his hand stayed in your hair, his chest heaving as he softly guided you. you started with slow, tentative licks around his leaking tip, eyebrows softly furrowing as tasted him, slowly pampered the head of his cock with wet kisses.
“just… fuck, darlin’. just… do whatever you feel like, yeah?” he reassured gently, despite his breath hitching.
his thumb brushed over your cheek as you built up the courage to take him into your mouth. slow, always slow.
your eyes stayed on his expression, inevitably pressing your legs together and little by little taking him further into your mouth. you couldn’t help it, not when he looked so pretty – with glassy and droopy blue eyes, bottom lip tinted with an even prettier shade of pink from soft bites and kissing.
── .✦
tonight, the special occasion was your parents out of town.
they adored liam to bits, it was impossible not to. you quickly realized that by the second time he had come around, where your mother baked the exact same cake he praised during the whole time you all sat on the table for tea.
your dad put on a tough front at first, but by the second time liam had purposely called at evening – followed by nearly an hour of chatting with your old man about football – you realized that your dad liked the gallagher lad more than he cared to admit.
but liking him or not, sleepovers were incredibly rare. and the very few times they happened, liam stayed on the couch. well, for ten minutes tops – because the second he heard your dad’s indistinguishable loud snoring, he stealthily made his way upstairs.
sometimes, he’d just do it to wind you up. kissing your neck and smiling against it as you slapped his grabby hands away, whispering yelling that he would get caught.
it would always quickly develop into something else. you’d snugly fit right over his lap, while his hands stayed on your ass to slowly move you over his clothed cock. he’d breathlessly kiss you before dragging his mouth down your throat, sucking the soft skin hard enough to leave you purple little marks you secretly loved so much, despite those being a bitch for the rest of the week.
it forced you to dig out your collection of high neck tops and wool scarves. eh, it’s for the troubles – cleaning his sticky underwear in the bathroom downstairs wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, he’d think.
but sometimes, he’d just go to cuddle you, smell the back of your neck. and, every time, he would slowly slip out of bed as soon as he realized your breathing evened out – just because he knew that if he stayed for another second, he’d fall asleep too. and that would be a real fucking problem in the morning.
because of this specific reason, the second you had told liam your parents were driving off to your aunt’s house for the weekend, his head already spun with anticipation.
being home alone with you was a first on its own, but throughout the night, another opportunity came up only to add to it.
liam had just performed, he was still sweaty and still buzzing like everyone else in the small venue once he found you, smiling so big and so proud he swore his chest would explode.
the dj afterwards turned out to be a wicked girl from london. that bird had a real gift, he thought. he had never seen you so carefree and happy about going out – he even danced along to some madonna tunes just because his missus was so thrilled in the dance floor.
he pretended he wasn’t that familiar with the lyrics, but he remembers very clearly from one specific day. “like a prayer” spun softly in your record player, his hands gently resting on your hips as you straddled him. he attentively listened to you hum the lyrics despite almost dozing off from the feeling of the soft brushes on his skin.
you had told him he had lovely eyes – for makeup purposes rather than a romantic girlfriend one. and, after five minutes of assuring him you’d take it to your grave, he let you experiment some of your makeup skills on him.
“i’d make a fit girl, wouldn’t i?” he teased, hands on his hips as he checked himself out in the mirror. leaning in closer to get a proper look at the artwork, laughing just because your giggles filled the room.
his mate happened to have some of the good stuff that fit perfectly with the post-gig atmosphere.
even though you were buzzing from the music and two lagers you had stolen from his hands, he made sure to check if you were up for it.
he was already used to it, but liam knew you weren’t. putting pressure on you was the last thing he wanted, always. but fuck me, wasn’t he pleased once you happily shrugged and replied “sure. let’s do it.”
the next hours passed in a blur, and next thing you know, you’re fumbling with your house keys, laughing because liam won’t stop kissing your neck.
you have no idea who drove you there, all you knew was how the two of you giggled all the way – stopping only to occasionally snog, not even paying mind to the collective groaning around you.
“liam!” you struggled, breathless and knocking over a roll of paper towels once you stepped into the kitchen.
liam’s hands were all over you, sliding over your waist and pulling you closer. then, eagerly landing on your tits, squeezing them firmly over the fabric and laughing inside your mouth at your tiny – completely useless – giggly protests.
he only hummed in response, shifting his head until his mouth latched on your neck. your head tipped back with another breathy laugh, eyes closing and fingers sliding inside his hair.
your whole body felt fuzzy, the high washed over you in a gentle way. it made the whole kitchen spin, it made liam’s touch feel a hundred times more electric.
annoyingly, it made your stomach softly grumble – at the same time a little light bulb in your head lit up, telling you that liam hadn’t eaten anything for hours.
“liam!” you tried again, still laughing. your hands weakly tried to push his chest away, making him stumble back with a laugh. his cheeks were flushed, hair a fucking mess, eyes not leaving your mouth for a second.
you managed to break away from his embrace, but he was quick enough to glue himself back to you in no time. his mouth pampered the side of your neck with kisses, his palm slid up your back until it reached the nape of your neck.
your hand shook from laughing as you reached for a jar of jam, body swaying and mouth falling agape the second his chubby fingers tightened inside your messy hair – tipping your head back and attacking your jaw with kisses, smiling against your skin at the sound of your laugh.
“you… have to eat!” you tried weakly, between laughs.
“nah, fuck that. wanna eat you.” he mumbled, only making you laugh harder.
his hips pressed firmer against your ass, allowing you to feel the firmness of his clothed erection over your soft flesh. you turned around, trying to stay focused – because right now you thought it was a matter of keeping him, the boy you loved so much, fucking alive.
you turned, lower back immediately pressing against the counter, hand fumbling with the lid as liam watched. his palms were still on your waist, pupils blown out and focused on you struggling. still laughing, obviously.
“let me… put it on some bread, okay?” you breathed out, followed by a soft pop from the lid finally giving in.
liam only hummed, puckering his lips like he was deeply considering your words. his fingers, however, reached inside the jar, picking up some of the jam and smearing it over your lips before you could even register it.
you yelped once his tongue licked it, eyes closing tightly with a surprised laugh and head tipping back at the feeling. “liam!”
“i’m eating. ‘m eating, see?” he murmured against your skin, picking up more and smearing over your neck, licking it clean once more.
your fingers tightened inside his hair, belly aching from laughing so hard. his free hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, pushing it up enough to expose your chest.
he had noticed you weren’t wearing a bra since the pub. he even leaned close to your ear and asked if you were cold once he noticed your hardened nipples strained against the fabric – earning a laugh from you and a smack on his arm, that made him step away with a shit eating grin plastered on his mouth.
right now, he took advantage of it. his lips curled up in a droopy smirk as he reached inside the jar and smeared it over your tit – his eyes far more focused than his own hand, watching attentively the mess he was making like it was the greatest thing ever. it was, to his dazed brain. even better with you enjoying it just as much, clearly.
he leaned down, greedily wrapping his mouth around your nipple and sucking the sweet spread. he hummed against your skin, hands grabbing your waist harder to pull you even closer to relief some of the neediness inside his trousers.
your head tipped back, every sense heightened. “you’re crazy.” you breathed out with a shaky laugh, amused and excited all at once.
he hummed, straightening up until his mouth was on yours again, murmuring into the kiss. “crazy about you.”
at this point, you couldn’t even kiss him back. you jaw ached from laughing, and to make it even worse, he couldn’t go on another second without saying the funniest things in the world.
the sticky trail of jam on your skin caught on his shirt as he finally scooped you up off the counter. he wasn't graceful about it, nearly tripping over the kitchen mat and somehow managing to stumble down the hall and up the stairs.
by the time he laid you on the mattress, you were both breathless. the room remained spinning in a slow and hazy circle that made everything feel completely detached from reality.
undressing was a disaster – your shirt got caught over your head, leaving you trapped in the dark for a solid ten seconds while liam tugged frantically at the sleeves, cursing under his breath and laughing so hard he didn't have the strength to actually pull it off.
his own trainers took an eternity to kick off, one of them flying across the room and whacking into the wardrobe with a loud thud that made you both freeze, wide-eyed, before bursting into another fit of hysterical giggles.
he crawled between your thighs, the heat of his bare skin against yours making your stomach twist in anticipation – despite still giggling just like he was. he stayed with his eyes on you the entire time, droopy and blown out.
while he battled with your jeans, he tried to dirty talk. "you're... you're fucking mine, alright? i'm gonna..." he paused, his brow furrowing as a groan escaped him, biting his lip and body nearly collapsing on the mattress with how hard he was struggling.
he finally managed to take them off. “fuck sake. finally.”
you only laughed harder, head throwing back into the pillow and eyes tearing up. “finish what you were saying!” you laughed.
he snorted, shaking his head. “don’t even remember.” he said breathlessly, shifting until his mouth was on your thighs. he pampered your skin with sloppy, wet kisses – his laughed against your skin vibrated through your whole body.
you hand reached out, head tilting as you tried to watch him. fingers running through his soft, messy brown hair. he closed the distance without even sliding your knickers off, placing a wet open mouthed kiss on your covered cunt.
his eyes fluttered shut at your taste, while your chest arched with a broken moan, still smiling despite yourself.
“liam… you need… to take them off!” you giggled, panting. you chuckled as he pulled back and immediately tug the fabric out of the way, nearly drooling from how much he wanted your taste on his tongue.
“i'm gonna... fucking, mad... proper— fuck's sake." he babbled, immediately cutting himself off with a groan as his eyes finally landed on you bare for him.
your cheeks burned, chest still shaking. but his hands were focused for a brief moment, guiding your knees apart until you were completely open to him.
he lost any track of thought as he unapologetically stared. his fingers reached out, gently spreading your soft lips apart to admire the wetness glistening under the dim light. “jesus, fucking christ.” he let out in a low, shaky breath, thumb tracing your clit before closing the distance.
you gasped at the feeling of his tongue sliding over you with a long stroke that made your hips instantly jerk off the bed.
his hands gripped your thighs, holding you still while his tongue worked over you with an eager and messy wet pace. you whimpered, fingers knotting into his hair, pulling him closer as your fuzzy head amplified every single touch. he paused for a fraction of a second, lifting his head just enough to press a wet kiss to your mound.
“could eat this. for fucking ever. taste so fucking good, god.” he groaned against your skin, before diving right back in until you were shaking, your orgasm washing over you before either of you could even realize.
he didn’t realize it, actually, maybe that’s why he kept kissing your cunt messily even as you panted heavily, too lost in the feeling of your clit throbbing underneath his tongue.
but you didn’t give him a chance to catch up, tugging him by the hair and making him shift over your body. he crawled back up, his cock heavy and twitching inside his underwear at the sudden firmness of your hand inside his hair.
your hands settled on his cheeks as you pulled him in for a kiss, moaning inside your mouth as you realized you could taste yourself. it all felt so dirty and intimate, your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him impossibly closer.
you moaned his name, hand clumsily pushing the elastic band as an attempt to free his length.
he breathed out a laugh. “yeah?” came out smug and muffled against your lips.
you instantly broke into a smile, kissing him deeper, humming. your hand slipped past the waistband, wrapping around him and slowly stroking at the same time he got rid of the remaining fabric.
the realization hit you both at once, no fumbling around in his pockets for a condom this time. it was another thrilling and slightly terrifying first that made your heart hammer harder against your ribs. he looked down at you for a second, searching your face for approval, his whole face softening as soon as you nodded – both breaking into a quiet fit of laughter.
he guided himself to your entrance, the leaking tip of his cock pressing against your wet hole. you gasped softly as he slowly slid inside. the feeling of skin against skin made his eyes roll back, immediately burying his face on the crook of your neck. it all felt overwhelming, making him close his eyes, breathing you in.
you moaned needily as he started to move, hips rolling in a slow rhythm. suddenly, he pulled away until his eyes could meet yours, clearing his throat and even then feeling the need to swallow gruffly before he spoke. it was very unlike what he was attempting, the proper rockstar about to say something incredibly filthy.
“you’re… you’re so— fucking, proper tight, babe. like a fucking… a fucking— glove. or summat. warm like a fucking glove ‘round me.” he tried, brows furrowed in deep concentration.
the absurdity of it hit you instantly. a loud, ungraceful snort escaped your nose, and that shattered any cockiness he was failing at. liam dropped his head into the crook of your neck, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable laughter.
“a glove?!” you gasped, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, stomach muscles aching. his body shook softly as he laughed with you, still tangled together, breathless.
“i’m trynna be sexy here, bird.” he protested, but he couldn’t keep a straight face. a massive boyish grin across his face remained pressed against your neck, his burning cheeks heating you while his cock twitched inside you despite it all.
your hands slid over his shoulders, then all the way down his arms and back. his skin felt warm and fuzzy underneath your palms, the high blossoming deep inside you only adding to the intimacy – that by itself already felt like a drug.
you laughed so hard a tear streamed down your skin, disappearing into the hair beside your temple. he gave you another stroke, watching you in awe, still laughing as well.
“laughing with a lad’s cock inside ya. you’re fucking cruel, you are.” he teased, without any bite to it. not a single ounce of seriousness in his words, not when his chest softly rested over yours from laughing so hard he couldn’t even prop himself up in his elbows like usual.
you shook your head, hand squeezing his arm as much as the lack of oxygen tightened inside your chest. “stop! i’m…” you tried, nearly incomprehensible and fully breathless from laughing. “i’m gonna fucking pee, liam.”
liam collapsed then, his body weight pressing over you while he laughed, wiping a tear from his own eye with a flush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with how much he adored you.
you laughed harder, hands tapping his arms. “liam!”
“can’t feel my legs.” he said simply, muffled against your neck.
you shifted underneath him, biting down a laugh as your palms pressed his chest, guiding him until his back was flat on the mattress.
liam let out a dramatic, breathless groan at the change, his head rolling on the pillow as you straddled his lap. his hands slid up the sides of your thighs, opening his eyes with struggle and letting his lips part in awe.
“fuck, look at you.” he murmured, voice dropping into that honey thick rasp, blue eyes blinking up at you, completely blown out and adoring. “fucking beautiful, you are. fucking goddess.”
you laughed, cheeks flushing and hips moving, inevitably clenching around him once his palms settled on your waist, fingers sprawled before sliding up to grope your breasts. his touch was completely unhurried and unapologetic, his gaze following attentively the way his own thumbs slid over your wet nipples, still sticky from earlier.
“fucking hell, look at these.” it was a dirty praise, nearly in disbelief. his fingers digged softly into your flesh, lips parting at how warm it felt underneath his touch, brows furrowing in pleasure with every movement of your hips. “fucking mad. you’re so fucking stunning, ’s not even fair.”
you leaned down with a breathy, fond laugh. he didn’t mind your messy hair falling around his face, not even your lips found his in another sloppy and slow kiss. you could still taste the night on his tongue – the lagers and the cigarettes he smoked, the sweet jam and your own arousal.
he let out a shaky groan that turned into a disbelieving laugh as his eyes rolled back, overwhelmed with how unbelievably wet you were. “fuck, babe.” he panted, chest heaving under yours as you moved.
you laughed softly against his jaw, leaning down until your tongue traced his collarbone. you could listen to the wet sounds of your cunt clamping down on his shaft, feeling how you left the soft patch of hair on his crotch slick with your arousal every time you moved.
his hips thrusted upwards involuntarily, pulling a gasp out of you. you shifted until your mouth was on his, but neither of you managed to properly kiss – only shaky breaths escaping. the high was slowly replaced with that sweet kind of desperation that had you crying out into his mouth.
“gonna be fucking big, me,” he babbled into your mouth, hands sliding down to cup your ass and pull you down harder against him. “wanna— fuck, darlin’. wanna put a baby inside you, yeah? make a proper little family with my girl.”
another laugh bubbled up your throat at the intensity of his high mind, but it was cut short into a gasp as he drove his hips up, hitting a spot that made you whimper his name.
your fingers tangled inside the floppy hair you loved so much – head spinning at the thought that these hypothetical kids would maybe have it, too. or the droopy blue eyes that made you melt. or the pretty pink plump lips you were so glad you could steal kisses from whenever you’d like.
“’m serious, yeah?” he moaned, thumbs stroking the curve of your ass as he kept up the rhythm. his cheeks were flushed with a deep pink, his chest heaving under yours as warm puffs of air hit your face, his breathing jagged just like yours. “wanna make you all— fucking full of me, babe. fill you right up. spoil you fucking rotten. g-gonna… buy you everything you want. give you everything. my perfect girl.”
you buried your face in his neck with a moan, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew. overwhelmed by the warmth of his bare body and his raspy words as he stretched you out.
your fingers trembled as they found his, immediately intertwining. pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of his head as you picked up the pace. both completely lost in the haziness of yet another first.
── .✦
another first time happened the next morning.
despite you having raised your hips the moment he babbled “‘m gonna cum. fuck, gonna—“ in a brief lapse of conscience, right now, the two of you stood in a drugstore aisle. sunglasses on and half empty bottles of gatorade in your hands, heads tilted to the side as you both analyzed the different shades in the nail polish wall.
the morning after pill already sitting in your stomach for the first ever time. you had asked for it with cheeks so warm you thought you’d pass out and voice so quiet you unfortunately had to repeat yourself to the man behind the counter.
right now, as he stood beside you, liam’s hand reached out and picked up a soft pink colored one. “reckon this one would look good on ya, i think.”
“you think?” you asked casually, your free hand sliding over his back until it rested on his waist.
“yeah.”
your head tilted, humming. then, you shook your head softly. “i actually think i already own one like this.”
his brows raised softly, huh. that’s why i think it’s pretty, then. “right.” he placed it back on the shelf.
you reached out, picking up a black one, a teasing smile immediately growing on your lips. “what about this one, hm?” – your hand gave his side a squeeze, not moving your palm away even as he tried to squirm out of your touch, grinning – “proper rock and roll. right?” you added.
he laughed, shaking his head and leaning in to press a kiss inside your hair. “cheeky bird.”
cw: teasing, building tension, age hap, sleight corruption if you squint, oral f/m!recieving, slapping, finger sucking, gagging, choking, praise/degredation, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, humiliation, manhandling, daddy kink, face fucking, hair pulling, SCANDAL ENDING WOOHOOOO
an: guys... this is my apology fanfic for not having written in so long MAMA IS SORRRYYUUHGHHHHHHH I didn't mean it.... I just had to finish by degree but now that is all done mama is back and EXCITED for oasisblr to hopefully pick back up with the documentary announcement.... hopefully. anyway! I do not like this pic but its been in the works for no joke SIX WHOLE MONTHS I know... I wrote half of it in my notes app on the bus and am currently writing the smut as we speak so, as usual, hope you enjoy!
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
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