an: this is based off a request for an anxious or scared reader with Noel where noel likes to baby the reader and the reader loves it as well. i went for 2000s noel because i think hes soo sexy. the ask was quite vague which i lucky for me bc i really wanted to do it at like a party or an event or smth because i thought it wld be cute. i probs won't proof read this sry.
cw: nothing much tbf. mentions of anxiety, brief mentions of drugs and alcohol but not much detail, noel is a bit of a cheeky shit, megaaaa cringe baby talk BEWARE
you had always been a nervous person. as a child, your mother would scold you for picking your nails until they bled or fiddling with the hem of your skirt so much that the hem flipped down and she had to resew it. when speaking in class, your words would catch in your throat as your eyes brimmed with tears. it wasn't that you didn't have anything to say, or you weren't interested by your company as some people wrongly assumed. it was that the thought of speaking around people was so daunting it terrified you in the same way that being mauled to death by a bear might terrify someone. someone had convinced you to move to London. you don't know why you agreed to move into a scroungy flat that had paint peeling of the walls above a busy newsagent in a particularly lively area of a city infamous for being perpetually loud and intimidating. despite this, you thought, you did owe it to the person who recommended you live there as without that shred of ill-suited advice, you may never have met Noel. you and Noel, to the naked eye, seemed an unlikely couple. he was the rock n roll, fearless, reckless member of the rowdy band of lads that was Oasis; you squeaked when anyone addressed you directly. Noel oozed confidence and charm able to run rings around any interview and reporter who questioned him; your teacher had once mentioned offhandedly that you reminded them of the terrified little harvest mouse that they had seen on the cover of 'Farmers Weekly' in the newsagent in the tranquil little village that you grew up in. however, all the logic of these outsider's interpretations was proved wrong when you and Noel were together. you had worked around the studio, always small and keeping yourself scarce, you quietly tuned guitars and fixed schedules without anyone asking you to. for all your flaws you made up for it by being incredibly perceptive. all that time watching from the side lines with your mouth firmly clamped shut had given you the ability to observe and notice. you noticed when noel hadn't eaten, and subsequently a healthy, balanced meal was hand made with love and care in what was supposed to be your free time and placed on his desk when he wasn't looking. you noticed when he seemed stressed and was pulling his hair out over the recording of some demo and, wordlessly, a masseuse was booked and schedules were rearranged so that Noel could have a few hours off. the precision and purposefulness with which you achieved things left Noel speechless. it certainly excused your quietness throughout your time of employment. that's not to say that Noel didn't try and get you to talk. Noel was intrigued by you, he'd never met someone in the raffish council estate where he'd grown up that held such an apathy in having their voice be heard by others. he had met loud-mouthed characters like his brother, his bandmates and seemingly all the celebrities he'd encountered with his new found fame, and figured that's what everyone in London was like. everyone wanted a piece of him, some personal relationship with him and for him to know about their incredibly boring personal lives. everyone from his colleagues to his fans to even the women he had tried to charm. that's why he was a little taken aback by you. you didn't jump at the opportunity to tell him everything about yourself, nor did you sidle up to him, gripping his arm and claiming Noel Gallagher was your 'best mate'. you just nodded quietly when he ordered you to do something, and completed the task with careful accuracy and efficiency that could only be learnt from a life time of doing so rather than trying to start a conversation with the person who had given you the order.
when he started to observe you closer, he realised you possessed a quality that he didn't think any person could. you didn't want to speak or be seen or heard or noticed particularly. your main goal in life was to nicely blend into the wallpaper so that the people more adjusted and adapted for the spotlight, like noel and the stick figure woman he would inevitably have draped on his arm by the end of the night, could steal the show. Noel had come up with this theory but he had to test it. he started with simple things. in a meeting about the schedules and arrangements for the upcoming tour, he turned to you and, without warning, called your name, which caused your head to snap up, eyes wide as dinner plates as Noel's thick mancunian drawl echoed through the large meeting room. "say sweetheart? would ya mind comin' up to the front here and talking through the arrangements for the american leg of the tour? i peaked in yer planner I know you've got it sorted out all nice and neat f'us. gowan stand up, up to the front now, there's a good girl." he rested his arms behind his head and delighted in watching your cute little face flush so red it was almost purple as you moved stiffly up to the front. he even allowed himself a little smirk as you stammered your way through the schedule with your head firmly pointed to the ground. he was overjoyed as he spotted an opportunity to say "speak up doll, niceee and loud f'us yeah that's it" when you sat down your shoulders were almost imperceptibly shaking as you swallowed harshly. but Noel noticed, Noel always noticed. after that little..... experiment, he came to a clear conclusion, he had a little shy birdie on his hands. and it was his mission to be the one you weren't shy around.
it started off simple. he would saunter up to your desk whilst you were sitting there and wordlessly pluck whatever notebook you were scribbling in out of your hands and absentmindedly flick through it. this went on for a good few minutes before you plucked up the courage to stammer "s-sorry could i just- i was just working on that" Noel would smirk and hand it back to you saying:
"sorry birdie! all y'had to do was ask yeah? nowt good comes from sittin there sayin nowt" he would ruffle your hair and walk off. when he finally convinced you to join one of the band outings to the pub, by finding a day he knew you were free and making sure you couldn't come up with an excuse like you had the other times, he was overjoyed. he knew exactly how to get you to open that pretty mouth of yours, stuff you full of so many pints you couldn't even think to be shy anymore. Noel had conveniently forgotten the part of the plan where he had to stay sober and was now on his tenth pint forgetting to stop staring at you when you looked. he had insisted he pay for your drinks which meant, according to him, he got to decide just how many drinks you got. and he had decided a lot. was it your fourth of fifth G&T you couldn't decide. what you did know though, was that everything was getting a lot easier for something you'd normally be anxious about. you spoke animatedly about some story of you and your cousin being chased by a heard of cows and you didn't even stammer when Noel reached his chunky finger to clumsily brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. all you did was offer him a lopsided grin to which he replied: " 'ow come right? ive never 'eard you talk f'that long and you've been workin' 'ere fer 4 months now!? pretty angels like you should be talkin' all the time methinks" you giggled at that which earnt you another strong drink. by the end of the night you were clinging on to Noel - or as you kept referring to him 'Noelly' - and he was heaving your drunken form into a cab to go back to his flat. when he peeled your half limp body out of the cab, planting his strong hands firmly on your waist, he paused on the pavements that glistened with the all too familiar London rainfall outside his luxurious flat and looked at you, really looked at you. he saw your glassy eyes peering up at him and the soft smirk adorning your glossy lips that let Noel know you didn't feel scared or anxious around him now. his sharp blue eyes traced your doll like features and his thick hands squeezed the round curve of your arse through the slightly-too-small dress. Then Noel, who had been characterised in the past as the grumpy, unsmiling miserable old man of oasis who didn't coo or find anything remotely sweet, felt the irresistible urge to..... baby you. it started off small: "ooh my sweet girl shall we get you inside petal? ohh look at your rosy cheeks!" but by the time he'd squeezed the two of you through his red front door it was full blown baby talk. noel was letting out exaggerated gasps causing you to let out drunken giggles. "oh! who let my precious baby out in the rain? hmm? was it Noelly?" and whilst nuzzling his hooked nose with your dainty one "who's the most beautiful girl in the world? is it you? is it?" before smattering your flushed face with kisses whilst letting out cartoonish sucking sounds. they left little moist patches all along your neck which glistened under the lamp light. from then on, after you'd woken up in Noel's bed and almost cried from embarrassment, you two had been a seemingly unlikely couple. Noel's babying of course continued. which brought you to that night's events
at the party, the bass thumped hard into your bones and rattled the ice cubes in the glasses scattered on polished furniture. your eyes quickly darted around the room, surveying exit routes and plotting where the people you didn't want to talk to were and how likely it was for them to approach. unbeknownst to you, some bitter tasting drink had been shoved into your hand. it was quickly discarded on one of the shiny, mahogany side tables. you felt your breath shorten as the walls moved in closer. you had been worried anyway, but now, what was once the low, constant hum of anxiety underneath everything else was now heightening into great big spikes of terror that were piercing your lungs and making your head spin. glasses clinked. someone's bellowing laugh came out too loud. a bead of sweat dripped into your eyebrow. breath. but you couldn't listen to your own instructions. you felt the familiar stinging at your cuticle as a bead of blood wriggled out the fresh wound you'd picked. you chewed your lip uselessly as if shaking the answers out of it. your panicking mind started to drift to the only person that could calm you down when you got like this. Noel. where. was. Noel.
a boyish laugh slipped from Noel's alcohol tainted lips. his face felt warm as his fingers brushed the remnants of some white powder from under his nose. he chatted idly to his mates as the green pool table sat watching, in the middle of them. Noel thought that even he, the infamous party animal, was getting a little bored at this do. his mind, hazy with alcohol, drifted to his sweetheart. he thought that if he was getting anxious to leave, you must be in a state. he snorted to himself at the thought before it hit him like a bucket of ice cold realisation. you must be in a state. hurriedly his eyes scanned the room. lads roaring with unnecessary laughter. a gaggle of satin clad girsl gawking at the others' stories of nights with their boyfriends. some sleazy corporate suits discussing revenues and budgets. and you, shaking like a leaf on some too-decorative-to-be-comfortable sofa. his heart jumped. the words of the man that was blathering to him about 'trying this new sound' with his band that was 'struggling in the huge Britpop scene' died in his throat as he saw the back of Noel's shaggy haircut when the Mancunian started striding towards the nervy girl in the corner.
the alcohol made Noel's lips a little looser as his slid next to you and placed his warm arm around your shivering waist. you went rigid before you realised who it was and melted into his stench of cigarettes and cologne. Noel's mind darted back to what he would usually do in this situation, if he had been sober the thought of doing this would've mortified him, but with the alcohol pulsing in his veins it all felt a little less serious. so, he leaned in real close to your ear and mustered up the best baby voice he could after five chain-smoked cigarettes.
"heyy baby, wassup? ya wanna tell Noelly, hmm? whats got my baby all shaky? y'need Noellykins to fix it s'that right?" he was encouraged when you tentatively nodded, squeaking slightly against his leather jacket and continued. "ohh my baby. let Noelly take care of his precious pumpkin. c'mere bubba" by now your face was burning with embarrassment and silent fury. Noel was doing this here. now. where everyone around could hear. despite you telepathically willing him to stop, even though it did do something to ease your growing stress, Noel continued. "lemme get my little baby outta here, silly Noelly for taking baby to a party he knew she wouldn't like. is Noelly silly? yeah. c'mon poppet." mortified, you huddled close to his side as you and your boyfriend made an Irish exit. you thanked the heavens above that no one questioned your sudden departure and sooner that you could say 'my boyfriend's a blabbering idiot' you were closing in on his cosy warm flat. he tipped and thanked the cabbie and rushed around to open the door for you, something you insisted he didn't need to do, and wrapped his musty jacket around you until you both slipped through the door. Noel was surprised when you didn't speak. his thick eyebrows remained raised as he followed you into the bedroom where you chucked some clean pyjamas at his chest and slipped into your own. his eyebrows raised even further when you shuffled towards him and buried your face in his belly, which was warmed with alcohol. if possible, his eyebrows climbed further up his forehead when, from his tummy, he heard a timid squeak.
"thank you, Noelly." he pressed a warm kiss to your scalp before replying.
"don't even mention it, silly. I'll always make a fool of myself for my favourite girl." then when he felt hot desperate tears seep through his pyjama top: "ey, no need for that baby" he carefully lifted you into bed, with the kind of gentleness you might bestow upon a piece of priceless porcelain, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. one thing was for sure, he'd do it again for his baby.
an: okay my bad i actually cringed quite hard writing the baby talking bits. i hope i didn't inflict too much pain on my dear readers. also im sorry if this is quite bad and im grateful to the anon that sent this request, its soooo cute. sorry for the MEGA cringe i hope you got thru it xxxxx
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