cw: dubcon + somnophilia !!!!!!! please do not read if you’re not comfortable with those <3 ; 90s!pervy!liam; one bed trope; male masturbation; dry humping; cheating; unprotected sex; dirty talk; creampie.
𑣲 word count: 3,5k. ˊˎ-
wn: i gotta be honest for a second i don’t think ive ever been so turned on writing something like i was with this one 🌸 based on an ask i sent to @dontlookbckinangr and heavily inspired by this fic (which honestly is one of the hottest things ive ever read)
being friends with liam had always been sound, the same way it’s always been to him when it came to you.
you two had your differences, sure. liam had always been loud and so unapologetically him, while you had always been the clever one. the proper one. the one who preferred to keep it to yourself and think twice the amount necessary before you ever spoke.
but it worked, because he always knew the moments you needed to get out of your shell, tease and call you boring, pull you by the wrist into whatever mess he’d started. and you had always know when he needed to do the exact opposite and shut the fuck up.
you met when you two were still little kids, he always had a soft spot for his only decent girl mate – his words. he would never nick your toys and he’d mouth off anyone who’d dare to. while you never really cared if he came into your kitchen with mud all over his football shoes and got chocolate cake crumbs all over the counter.
it carried on until the teenage years, where you’d roll your eyes fondly every time he’d talk about which girls were wearing a bra and getting frisky behind the school patio. while he’d nudge you with his elbow, with a shit eating grin on his face, whenever you so much as blushed at a lad’s name.
it obviously wouldn’t be any different when oasis started – you’d been asserted to be their manager before even noel joined in, when they even called themselves ‘the rain’. the reason was simple: you were always the proper smart one. knew how to talk. knew how to fix things liam broke. knew how to spin chaos into serenity.
you couldn’t get rid of liam even if you wanted to. but he swears it was easier to be around you before you got tits and a heart-shaped ass. fucking circle of life.
now it’s ’94 and everything’s louder. bigger. messier. the band’s on the brink of being something massive.
but still, sometimes budgets for hotel rooms got tight. and every single time it did, the band would collectively agree on one thing:
“she’s your friend. not ours”
which was bollocks, because you were everyone’s friend. but you had always been liam’s first.
so, you ended up in his room. same as always. no big deal to you, not really. it was the same as when you were kids at sleepovers,
except it wasn’t the same for liam. because right now, you’re asleep beside him. on your side, your back to him.
and he can’t fucking sleep, can he? because you’re wearing tiny sleeping shorts that always ride up when you’re too blissfully unaware to tug them back down, and you’re wearing a loose t-shirt that has the beatles logo stamped – and not even that could’ve distracted him from the fact he can see your hardened nipples since the moment you left the shower.
now, the bedroom feels warm. way too warm. because you’re asleep – in that peaceful way you only see in old disney princesses movies – while liam is painfully hard in his trousers.
he has been staring at the back of your head for a good 20 minutes now, the way your torso moves as you breathe in and out for maybe 10. all while thinking about the way your stupid posh boyfriend doesn’t even know where to touch you right – so yes, of course he has been staring at your ass, too.
he thinks about how he’d tease you in your ear, and how prettily you’d blush even more if his cock was splitting you open. the way he’d grab your tits and keep them from bouncing every time he thrusted in you, how your pretty pussy would flutter around him and how nice your soft little mound would feel all slick against his. at that, he cursed your entire family generation at the memory of that day in the hotel pool in paris, did you really have to sit so pretty with your legs slightly open? in a way that only a fucked up perv would notice how there’s a small wet stain that doesn’t only come from the chlorine water?
jesus. that’s the worst part. you don’t even know you’re doing it. you probably don’t have a single clue that later that day he had to fuck his own hand in the shower, just because you were there. being you. doing nothing.
and now, you’re doing the same. and it’s even worse because you’re sleeping, so you’re not only unaware to his struggle, but also to everything else in the world – the soft clicking sounds of the ice machine down the hall or the few cars passing by right in front of the hotel.
so… you won’t notice if his hand drifts down to his trousers so he can just take care of himself, right?
fuck me, he thinks, jaw tightening and a frustrated huff leaving his nose. his hand slides down, undoing the lace of his sweatpants quietly. he doesn’t even fully free himself, he just slides a hand in and squeezes his throbbing cock.
fuck. me.
he takes his hand out, guiding it to his mouth and pooling a small amount of spit. and once it makes contact with his warm length, he exhales in bliss – half at the relief, and half at the thought of it being your hand doing that while your pretty mouth kisses the head of his cock.
he starts to stroke himself, slowly. his eyes go back to the swell of your ass. he’s annoyed, genuinely pissed off that he has to do this right next to you like some desperate prick, but he can’t help it.
he’s even more annoyed at the thought that your little twat of a boyfriend gets to do everything he curses himself for fantasizing about – even worse when he thinks he probably doesn’t, actually. too fucking proper for that, isn’t he?
his rhythm stutters as he thinks about it. he bets he doesn’t even get you off. he bets that posh little prick treats you like something fragile – in the wrong way. too scared to actually handle you. too boring to know the sounds you’d make if someone actually put the work in.
liam knows he’d be different. he bets he could make you cry so pretty around his cock, make you feel so good while you looked up at him with those pretty eyes and pouty lips, begging him for more instead of just settling for whatever polite, lukewarm shit you're getting now.
his hips twitch involuntarily, bucking into his hand once as he slows down the pace. since he’s fucking started it already, he can’t just… get off too fast. can he? while one of his hand is busy fisting his cock up and down, his free one reaches out, trembling slightly before they land on the curve of your ass. just brushing it, feeling the soft skin under the hem of your shorts. just the heat of you nearly sends him over the edge right then, making him swallow down a rough groan.
he’s imagining pulling those shorts down, burying his face in you and finally tasting what he’s been staring at for years. he’s being a pervert, he knows it. but he’s always been a bit of a bastard, hasn't he? his brain seems to not have caught up on the fact that he could wake you, that this is wrong. but, he shifts his head slightly until his nose is touching the back of your neck, and the second he inhales your scent – the smell of soap mixed with your perfume that lingers in the soft hairs of the nape of your neck – his mouth falls agape. eyebrows furrowing and eyes tightening shut as he keeps the nearly tortuous slick strokes on his dick.
his thumb grazes the soft skin of your lower back before his hand settles on the soft flesh of your ass, bold and hesitant all at once. fully needy and desperate. he squeezes, just a little, watching the way the flesh gives under his palm.
he pushes his waistband down, fumbling with the fabric and muttering out small curses as he frees his cock, wrapping his hand around it once more and pumping himself faster now, his hips jerking instinctively toward you as breathy and broken high-pitched moans leave his lips, pink and slick with his own spit as he licks them incessantly – like he’s trying to distract himself from how much he wants to kiss you right now.
the head of his cock, slick and leaking with pre cum, accidentally brushes against the back of your thigh. he lets out a broken, low moan into the pillow at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels how soft you are. and instead of pulling away, he leans into the friction. rubbing his flushed and wet tip against your skin, over and over, bucking into his own hand now.
he takes in another inhale of your smell, almost as encouragement. he lets his lips brush softly against the sensitive skin on your neck, huffing a deep and warm breath against it as his fingers hook into the waistband of your tiny shorts while the other one keeps stroking his cock. he tugs the fabric down just enough, slow and agonizing, until your skin is bare to his heated stare. he misses the tiny sound you let out, too entranced as he stares at the lace of your panties.
the mattress dips under his weight as he shifts, his movements are slow and calculated. he’s got one hand clamped firm around himself, stroking with a jagged rhythm, while the other stays anchored to your ass, sliding his palm over it – god, he wishes you could see this right now. how big it looks when it’s right over your pretty ass, how nice his chubby fingers you’d always tease him about would look as they stretched your pretty pussy out. he’s too caught up on it he misses the way your breath hitches, and he swears that your back arching was just how you were positioned before.
“fucking hell”, he whispers into the quiet, his voice coming out in a rasp.
his hand slides down to your cunt. he tells himself he just wants to feel it, only brush his knuckles against it. just to feel your warmth. he tells himself he just wants to know what you smell like or if you’re as soft as he fantasizes.
but once he finds you hot and damp, a shaky exhale leaves his lips, pressing his face further into your hair while his other hand works his cock. he cups your cunt over the fabric, the heel of his palm presses against your clit and he can swear it’s swollen. god, does that prick really leave you like that? needy, aching. wet even in your sleep.
liam’s heart is hammering against his ribs like crazy, but he can’t stop. he hooks two fingers under the edge of the cotton fabric, shifting your panties to the side until you’re open to him. his breathing nearly breaks and his hand twitches the grip tighter around his cock, slowing down the pace. because he slipped a finger underneath the fabric, and he swears he could cum just at the sensation of your slick folds right at his fingertips.
your head shifts to the side, so tiny he doesn’t even notice. so pretty and delicate he swears the little heavier huff you just let out was a normal sleeping breathing rhythm.
you're so soft, so pretty. and the fact you’re getting warmer under his touch even in your sleep makes him wish he could just slide in and fix every itch he’s facing – especially now, that it seems as if you’re aching for relief, too.
but liam swears he’s not that crazy, that this? giving in fully? would just be far too much. but, he still guides himself closer. and when he rubs the head of his cock directly against your wet pussy, the feeling of his flushed leaking tip smearing his arousal against yours nearly does him in. his head rolls back in pure, unadulterated torture.
he begins to rub his cock against your pussy, up and down, mocking the friction of the real thing. his hips are shaky as he slowly bucks into you – sliding his length between your pulsing and wet folds, thinking about how easy it’d be to give in. he doesn’t though, not fully. the moment his tip pushes in just barely against your entrance, already fluttering at the tiny stimulation, he pulls away.
because he doesn’t trust himself, but he doesn’t fully stop either. his hand now shaky and warm and slick around his cock as he grinds it against you. over and over.
then, you stir.
“liam…”
you say it in such a tiny tone he could miss it if the room wasn’t so quiet, your head tipping to the side against the pillow. the sound of your voice makes his heart go to his throat immediately. he freezes, hand still over you, clammy, his breath held and his cock embarrassingly hard and slick with your wetness, throbbing between your soft folds.
he nearly chokes on his own saliva. his brain scrambles to find an excuse, his voice coming out as a panicked, pathetic rasp. “m’sorry— fuck, i’m sorry, i’m a right prick, i’ll stop, i swear—”
he thinks you’ve caught him being a right disgusting twat.
but then, you let out a soft, low moan – a sound so sweet and needy it makes his head spin. you aren't fully woken up, eyes still closed and body heavy with sleep and whatever hazy, heated dream you’re trapped in. you’re still under, but your head lolls back as you arch your back instinctively into his touch. “liam…”, you moan again.
fuck.
you’re dreaming. and from the way your body is reacting, it isn't about the boyfriend.
“liam…” you whisper again. this time it sounds more like a plea, your voice thick and syrupy. he huffs a deep breath, hand gripping your hip a little tighter and his hips slowly pushing foward once more – his cock sliding in between your folds perfectly, his tip smearing pre cum on your throbbing clit as it bumps into it in the softest, wettest way.
“fuck…”, he moans, pressing his face against the side of your neck, his lips falling agape and face scrunching in pleasure at the sound of a needy and broken gasp coming from you.
you let out a broken, tiny sob into the pillow, your fingers reaching back blindly to clutch at his arm, pulling him closer. because you’re trapped in that state where reality and dreaming blend together, and the aching between your thighs is too much to even begin to figure it out. “i’m so wet... please...”
yeah. he’s a bastard, a proper pervert. but before his brain can even talk himself out of it, the head of his cock presses against your entrance again, and your cunt practically sucks him in. another whiny broken whimper escapes your throat, soft and pleading in your sleep. you aren't waking up – you’re just falling deeper into whatever fever dream has a hold of you, your hips move up to meet his instinctively. slow and needy.
he can’t help it, he pushes himself in with a broken high pitched moan. he’s slow – agonizingly slow – and hesitant, his breath hitches as he feels your tightness around him, making his eyes roll back. you moan just as needily, legs spreading wider for him in an instinctive surrender. you babble his name dumbly, needy and breathy and borderline desperate.
“fuck… want your liam, don't you love?”, he whispers in your ear as he starts to thrust in you. you whimper in response, nodding dumbly and moaning every time his cock presses that spongy place inside.
he’s shaking, because he can’t fucking believe this is happening. your sweet moans mixing with the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you pull borderline pathetic jagged moans out of his lips. he’s spooning you so tight it’s like he’s trying to crawl right under your skin, one of his hand firm and nearly bruising on your hip while the other arm slides underneath your torso – that hand holding your face as he fucks you.
“fuck... fuck, love... ah, fuck”, he mutters, his eyes blown wide as they stare down at where he's slicking himself against you. every time he pulls back and pushes back in, the sound is a sickeningly wet, gushy, obscene noise that makes his head spin. the way your soft ass cheeks press against his crotch with every messy thrust as you squeeze him so tight makes him think he might just die before oasis properly makes it.
he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in hot, jagged hitches as he starts to ramble, “look how you take it. perfect fucking cunt. fucking squeezing me. j-jesus, fuck... so wet for me, so fucking wet f’me”. his voice is a thick, manchester rasp that’s dirty and low. he moans, teeth grazing your ear.
his pace is messy, desperate. his hand reaches down until it finds your breast, squeezing it through the thin beatles tee, his thumb catching on your nipple as he bucks his hips. “knew it, love. fucking knew you’d feel like this. knew i’d make you moan like that”
you moaned in response, eyes rolling back despite not even fully opening them. because he’s got his fingers digging into your tits, kneading them while he fucks you. his movements are sloppy and desperate, sure. but god, his cock feels so fucking good. “yeah? you like that? like your liam doin’ this to ya?”, he grits out, making you moan his name in that sleepy, broken way.
you let out a long, shuddering sob of a moan, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as you nod dumbly, your eyes still hazy and half-closed as you tilt your pelvis back into him, begging as you mumble “yes, yes, yes” over and over.
at your pleas, he starts to fuck you even harder. deeper, if it’s even possible. holding you even tighter as he moans in your ear, “gonna fuckin' cum, 'm gonna cum all over you, love... you're so fucking tight. such… a sweet f-fucking pussy. fucking perfect”. his hand slides down to your thigh, hooking it and pulling it higher to get even deeper.
his hand finds your clit before he can even pull away, and he can’t help but rub sloppily your throbbing bundle of nerves. he’s gone, completely. the thrill of having you like this – vulnerable and his and so fucking responsive – is already sending him over the edge. but you sound so pretty, and you’re so close to cumming in his cock. how could he not give you the same amount of pleasure as you’re giving to him?
“cum f’me … please love. please cum f’me. please, love. fuck”, he begs. he’s not even trying to be quiet anymore, his own moans coming out high-pitched and broken.
and as he leans down and mouth find yours in a sloppy kiss, you come undone. you don't really kiss him back, not really. your head is too dumbed down with the pleasure and the sleepiness all together.
your tongue is too relaxed to chase his back – just sliding against his messily as your body moves with every stroke, allowing him to swallow down every single moan that escapes from you as your orgasm washes through. you feel the corners of your mouth getting slick, as well as your chin and your lips. you have the impression that he tastes like toothpaste, but the feeling of him inside you is too distracting to pay attention to anything else. so you just let out these long, broken moans, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra.
he lets out a choked, gutteral sound inside your mouth as he hits your sweet spot, his hips pressing in tight against your ass and his whole body shaking as he spills inside you. his mouth is agape and his brows furrowed in a way it’s nearly a crime you don’t get to see it, since your eyes are closed tightly shut just like his – both glassy and droopy with pleasure, becoming heavier from the exhaustion already creeping in.
he stays buried there, shaking. tiny needy breaths escaping his lips as his heart hammers against your back while you drift back into an even deeper sleep.
yeah. not gonna be any easier from now on. that’s for fucking sure.
everyone knows about the battle of britpop. but nobody knows about the secret tapes that made it so intense between liam gallagher and damon albarn.
damon albarn x reader x liam gallagher
word count: 4.6k
warnings: smut (minors dni), not one but TWO sex tapes, cheating (?), cumming on panties, dacryphilia, degradation, unprotected p-in-v
a/n: request! this took me FOREVER but as you can see...there's a reason why. i hope everyone likes it cause i had fun writing it!!! this is also my longest fic SORRY
Although you were seeing Damon, Liam was someone you kept on the side.
You were too good at sneaking around with him, nobody would have had any idea that was going on, especially during the height of the Battle of Britpop.
It all started when you attended the 1996 Brit Awards with Damon. You planned on remaining by his side only, but other plans came up.
Liam Gallagher came around, talking all cocky in your ear, making fun of Damon and taunting Blur every chance he got.
"Must be exhausting trying to pretend your boyfriend's music is any good, eh?" He said when he finally got you alone.
You narrowed your eyes at him, completely unimpressed. "Excuse me?"
"Just sayin'," He smirks, taking a sip from his beer. "If you fancy needin' an upgrade from those wankers, you know where to find me."
You rolled your eyes at the wink he gave afterwards, trying your best to ignore him for the rest of the night, no matter how much he kept coming around.
Liam couldn't keep it to himself, going to tell Noel almost right away. "Have you seen Albarn's girl? She's proper fit."
Noel wasn't exactly impressed. "Yeah? What's that got to do with us?"
A smug smirk grows on his face. "Think she'll go for me?"
"Whatever you do, don't involve me in it." His brother rolls his eyes.
Blur ended up taking no awards home that night, while Oasis left with three, making sure to rub it in their faces with the Shitelife line.
Going to the after-party wasn't much fun, at least on your end. Oasis and Blur were on different sides of the room, one celebrating their win, the other sulking in their loss.
You stuck by Damon's side for the night, continuing to stay loyal in your allegiance to him and the rest of the band.
Liam didn't make things easy, though. For as loud and cocky as he was being, he always managed to look across the room and meet your gaze.
He knew you were watching, winking at you as he took a sip from his beer when you looked over. You rolled your eyes and turned away.
He wasn't going to talk to you in front of Damon, he wasn't that stupid. But the minute you were alone, that's when he made his move.
"How's it feel bein' on the losin' side?" Liam smirked, coming beside you as you waited for a drink at the bar. "Dermot's not lookin' too happy."
"Yeah, you seem very interested since you keep looking over." You snap, looking at him.
"Just interested in you," He comes closer, looking you up and down. "You look bored. If you wanna see what winnin' looks like, you can always come over."
He was so annoyingly charming, and as much as you tried to ignore him, he always found a way to try and slither back into your view.
"No, thank you." You say politely, taking your drink and turning your back to get away from him.
"I'm just sayin'," Liam gently catches your wrist before you could fully walk away. "If Damon's still being a cunt, call me."
That's when you felt him tuck a small piece of paper in your hand, letting you walk back to Damon as if nothing happened.
You didn't dare look back, but your heart was pounding with the possibility of seeing him after the after party.
Your mind was telling you this wasn't a good idea, but the temptation was a little too hard to resist.
✰ ✰ ✰
You didn't go back with Damon when you left the after-party. Some excuse about wanting to hang back with an old friend was convincing enough.
But really, you went to the nearest phone and dialed the number Liam gave you, still wondering if this was a good idea.
Before you could back out and hang up, he answered. "Miss me already, love?" He says, like he immediately knew who was calling.
"Shut up," You sigh before talking again. "Are you still up?"
"Yeah," He replies, his voice a little less cocky this time. "The hotel's five minutes away if you wanna come by."
That was how you ended up in Liam's hotel room, past midnight, heart pounding as you watched him step closer to you, his gaze full of hunger.
"Damon's got it good," He mutters under his breath, doing that shameless look up and down he was doing all night. "Kinda jealous he's got you all to himself."
"You're hard to resist." You whisper against his lips, inches away from yours. He was waiting for you to make the first move and fall into his trap.
That fed his ego of course, coming from Damon's girlfriend herself. "What's that? Damon not satisfyin' you enough?"
"That's not it," You reply. "Like you said, I just wanted to see what winning felt like."
It was then that you pressed your lips to his, slow and hesitant at first, before it became heated and desperate, rushing to get each other's clothes off.
Liam pulled away first, eyes already blown wide with lust. "If we're gonna do this, I wanna remember it."
He reached for a small camera, holding it up between you two. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of it, looking at him. "You want to record it?"
"Yeah, it'll stay between us," He says with that smug grin, taking notice of your reaction. "Unless it bothers you. This night will still be between us without it."
If you knew that saying yes would lead to problems with you and Damon in the future, you would've left. But the thrill in the moment clouded your judgment.
"No, we can record it." You say, trying not to show how excited the thought of being recorded made you feel.
He set up the camera and started recording before you even had your clothes off, turning back to make another sly comment. "Somethin' tells me Damon's too boring to do stuff like this."
Before you could even say anything else, he kissed you again, a gasp leaving your lips as he slid his tongue into your mouth.
The camera captured everything, from the small whimper that you tried to hide, to the way your hands fisted in his clothing, desperate to take it off.
Liam made you face the camera once you were standing in your bra and panties, showing you off to the camera, hands settling on your waist from behind.
He kissed along your neck, a soft sigh escaping your lips as your head fell back onto his shoulder, giving him more access.
He nipped along the skin, making a point to show the camera that he was marking you as his, and you were enjoying it.
It was then that he pushed you onto the bed before getting down on his knees, making sure the camera caught every second of the action.
Liam started to kiss along your stomach, blue eyes staring up at you as he inched lower, stopping right above the waistband of your panties.
Your body felt like it was on fire, heating up with each kiss he left on your skin as he came closer to your soaked cunt.
"Liam, please…" You whine, opening your legs to him, arousal clouding your judgment. All you could think about was his mouth on you.
He let out a low groan at the sight, his fingers starting to rub your clit through the fabric. "Tell me what you want, babe."
"Your mouth," A soft gasp falls from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the contact. "Please don't make me wait."
A devilish smirk grew on his face at your impatience, loving how he had you so needy already and he barely touched you.
Following your command, his fingers hooked the waistband of your panties, pulling them down between your legs, revealing your dripping cunt.
"Fuck me…" He groans, just getting hard knowing that he gets to have this all to himself, and not Damon.
He threw your panties to the side of the bed, still not giving in to your needs yet. He kissed along your thigh, watching as you lay there impatiently, needing his mouth on you.
You bit your bottom lip in frustration, resisting the urge to just push his face between your legs. "Please…"
Liam leaned in and licked a long, slow, delicious stripe up your clit, making your legs tremble from the contact.
"Tastes like heaven." He mumbles into your clips before taking another long stripe up your clit, getting off to the way you moaned this time.
He moves your legs over your shoulders, moaning and diving into your cunt like a man starved. Every lick and suck was making you arch into him, the pleasure becoming too much.
He looked up at you through his long lashes, smirking against your cunt when he saw how beautiful you looked with your eyes closed in pleasure.
"Does Damon eat you out like this?" He swirls his tongue along your clit, watching as your cheeks flush from both the pleasure and the question.
When you didn't answer, he pulled back to look at your face, refusing to continue unless you said something. "Come on, answer for the camera, babe."
With your cheeks burning, you answered. "No, he doesn't," You whined, head finding the back of his head. "Don't stop, please…"
"Heard that, Damon?" He smirked, going to insert a finger into your tightness. "I've gotta be the one to please your girl."
You hated how cocky he was about all of it, as if Damon were watching in that moment. He was loving just how easy it was to leave you a wreck.
He dove back into your cunt after, his tongue flicking against your cunt as he started to move his finger against your walls, making you cry out.
You tugged lightly at his scalp, pushing his face further into your cunt, nose bumping against your clit as he worked his finger against your walls, knuckle deep.
Another finger had you moaning louder, thighs trembling around his head, his nose rubbing against your clit, giving extra pleasure.
"Liam," You say his name, feeling the vibration of his moan against your clit. "I'm so close, don't stop…"
His fingers curled inside you in response, moving them faster in an attempt to get you to your orgasm. "Come for me, beautiful."
He sucked on your clit, and you instantly became undone, thighs clamping around his head as your walls clenched around his fingers.
Every sound of your sweet moans was caught on camera as Liam continued to move his fingers through your orgasm.
"That's it, love," He smirks, removing his fingers to taste you on his fingers. "Haven't even fucked you proper."
After you came down from your high, Liam went to remove his boxers before moving you onto your hands and knees.
"Face the camera, babe," Liam whispers in your ear. "Wanna see all the pretty faces you make when I fuck you."
He couldn't wait to watch the tape back, already imagining how wrecked you would look on camera, needy for his cock.
He teased his cock through your folds, listening to the way you would whimper and push back for him to take you.
"Look at this Damon," He smirked, continuing to tease your folds. "Your girl's all desperate for my cock."
Without warning, he shoved his cock into your cunt, making you gasp as your fingers gripped the sheets under you from the stretch.
Liam didn't give you any time to adjust, immediately setting a ruthless pace even though you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
"Liam," You gasp, eyes fluttering closed as moans fall from your lips, legs trembling as he delivers each sharp thrust in search of your sweet spot.
"That's right, babe," He places his hands on your hips, driving you back against him harder. "Let Damon know how much I'm making you feel good."
You whimper at his words, body arching into him as your walls continued to stretch to the size of him.
He felt different from Damon, thicker, more controlled, determined to leave the imprint of his cock in your walls long after this night was over.
"Please don't stop." You whine, throwing your head back in pleasure as he continues to pound into your cunt without mercy.
He groans into your ear in response, grip on your hips tightening. "Does Damon fuck you like this?"
In a haze, you shook your head, crying out as you felt him hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars, walls clenching around him.
His hand found your hair, fisting it into a ponytail as he pulled back, making you arch as he fucked into you harder.
"Let me hear you say it," He whispers in your ear before looking at the camera. "Let them hear it."
Putting on a performance was his specialty, and doing so when he knew he was being recorded with you made him cockier than ever.
He could tell you were close, walls fluttering around him as he fucked you deep, unable to even think straight.
"He doesn't fuck me like you do," You gasp, tears blurring your vision. "You feel so good, I'm gonna come."
"Good girl," Liam groans in your ear, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. "Wanna feel you come on my cock."
A few more sharp thrusts, and you came undone on his cock, clenching around him as your eyes rolled back into your head, the force of your orgasm leaving you trembling.
He continued to fuck you through it, loving the way you couldn't keep quiet from both the overstimulation and the pleasure, tears slipping down your cheeks.
His eyes glanced over to the panties that were thrown to the side of the bed, lying there with your slick, proof of how eager you were for him.
Just the sight of it was enough to get him close, lying there pink and naughty, ready to be claimed as his.
"Fuck princess," He pants, staring at the panties as his rhythm falters. "Gonna make you mine…"
With a few more thrusts, he quickly pulled himself out, stroking himself quickly as he positioned himself over your panties.
He came with a deep groan of your name, your used panties being stained with his seed, the camera capturing every second of it.
When you turned back to look at what he did, he simply looked at you with a smirk. "Just so you can go home wearing me."
And the camera would capture you doing exactly that, taking the stained panties and putting them back on, carrying him home with you.
Liam ended the tape with one last message: "Lost the award and the girl. Hope there's no hard feelings, Damon."
✰ ✰ ✰
The night you spent with Liam was memorable, you couldn't deny that. You continued to see him in secret a few times afterward, even spending a night watching the tape back.
Things didn't last forever with Liam. Eventually, you became more serious with Damon, and he was starting to become "serious" with Patsy.
But one day, he decided to restart a rivalry that was long over, and it all started with the tape.
He wasn't going to leak it himself to the public, he wouldn't incriminate himself like that. But all that talk to Damon during the tape meant he planned on sending it to him after all.
Damon had every right to be suspicious when Liam randomly came up to him and said it was a gift for you. Why would he have a gift for you?
So when he was alone in the flat while you were out running errands, the curiosity got the best of him. He decided to put the tape into the player and see what it was.
The last thing he was expecting to see was Liam settled between your legs, eating you out like there was no tomorrow.
His eyes widened in horror, realizing what was going on instantly. But he didn't bring himself to turn it off, like it was so bad he couldn't look away.
The worst thing about it was that you weren't even around to see it, which only made the rage boil up the longer he watched.
You happened to walk in at the wrong time. At first when you stepped through the door, you thought he was just watching porn.
But when you stepped to where the sound was coming from, you saw what was really happening.
There you were, hands and knees on the bed, Liam putting on his performance of a lifetime of putting you through the mattress as you desperately moaned his name.
It was the worst time for you to feel the slight throb in your jeans, but it was the first time you had even seen some part of the tape.
Damon turned back to look at you with fire in his eyes, and that's when you came back to reality.
"What's this?" He asked, turning to look at you as the tape continued to play in the background.
"Damon, listen," You stammer, trying to find the right words. "I can explain, it's not what you think—"
Just when you were going to explain yourself further, the sound of your moan came through. "He doesn't fuck me like you do…"
He couldn't say anything, just laughed and shook his head. You, on the other hand, were ready to yell at Liam.
You knew he did it as some power move to Damon, even after the petty rivalry was long over, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.
"Is that right?" Damon stands up this time, laughing despite the anger he was feeling. "He fucks you better than I do?"
"No!" You quickly replied, panic rising as the tape continued to play. "It was just something I said in the moment, I swear—"
"When was this?" He asks, lowering the volume this time. (He couldn't hear you over the way you were moaning on the tape.)
There was no use in hiding things anymore, so you decided to be upfront about it. "The night of the Brit Awards…"
Damon closed his eyes like it was taking everything in him not to blow up right now, and a part of you was wondering how he was even managing to stay so calm, but you weren't going to push it.
"You went to fuck him that night? After you told me you were hanging out with a friend?" He asks.
"I had my reasons!" You replied, fully owning up to it now that you were caught.
He scoffed and shook his head. "And what would that be?"
"You were moping around all night after the loss," You shrugged. "It wasn't fun, and he gave me a tempting offer."
He couldn't help but laugh at that again, like he just couldn't believe this was happening right now. "Really?"
"Yeah," You replied quickly. "And he did make me feel good." You say before walking away, leaving him to deal with the truth.
Damon watched the tape all the way to the end, jaw tightening at the sight of him making a mess of your panties before signing off with his stupid message.
He would get his revenge on Liam another day. Right now, he was determined to prove you wrong.
✰ ✰ ✰
You were now on your knees on his command, Damon standing above you, reaching for the digital camera you two shared, setting it up.
"You wanna make a tape with someone else?" He stands above you, holding the camera in one hand and unbuttoning his trousers with the other. "We can make a better one."
After he finished watching the tape with you and Liam, he'd come in with this look in his eye, something between jealousy and possessiveness.
It made you a little turned on. You've never seen him like this before, so controlling and dominant.
"Since you want to be a slut," Damon says as he strokes his cock a few times before holding it to your lips. "You're going to suck my cock like one."
He pushes his cock past your pretty lips, groaning as he feels your wet mouth take him so obediently, looking at him with faux innocence.
You didn't need to be told what to do. You slowly moved your mouth on his cock, the camera capturing every second of it.
"That's it," He groans, growing harder while you take him in your mouth. "I bet this is what you wanted."
You moaned in response, the vibration causing him to slightly buck his hips, hitting the back of your throat. He moved your hair out of your face, wanting to get a better view.
You hollowed your cheeks and began to bob your head faster, never taking your eyes off of him once, looking at the camera and his reactions.
Your tongue ran along the underside of his cock, a slight whine escaping him as you started to take him deeper into your mouth.
Damon couldn't keep himself under control much longer. His grip in your hair tightened, moving to the back of your head to push you further down his cock, shoving himself down your throat.
Tears prickled at your eyes as you felt him bury himself, starting to fuck your throat without a care in the world, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth.
The camera picks up the ragged moans and curses he was letting out under his breath, cock twitching at how messy you looked.
"You're gonna take all of me when I come," He growls, watching you gag on his cock. "And you're gonna show everyone what a greedy slut you are."
Your throat constricted around his cock as he continued to drive himself into your mouth, eventually spilling deep into your throat.
He didn't pull out until you swallowed every last drop of him, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop and you gasping for air.
"Good girl," He caressed your cheek, the only time he would be praising you for the night. "But I'm not done with you yet."
Damon positioned the camera in the corner of the room, making sure it would be in view of you and the bed.
He lay back down on the bed before looking at you, lazily stroking his cock, getting hard again. "Come here."
You did as you were told, meeting him on the bed and straddling him without needing him to tell you, leaning forward to meet his lips.
But he stopped you before you could kiss him, grabbing your wrist. "Don't face me, face the camera."
Confused, you pulled away and turned your back to him to face the camera, feeling him guide you onto his lap from behind, kissing your neck the same way Liam did.
A whimper escaped you at the memory, but you replaced the image of Liam with Damon now, leaning your head back.
"Want you to ride me for the camera." He whispers in your ear, leaving marks where Liam's love bites had once been.
When he pulled away, you felt his hands guide your hips above his cock, helping you to sink down onto him, the smirk on his face growing when you gasped at the feeling.
The sight in front of the camera was filthy. You facing the camera, body already trembling with need, cunt taking his cock on full display.
"Fuck," Damon groans as you take him deep. "Still so warm and tight for me."
He placed his hands on your waist, guiding you as you slowly began to rock your hips against him, soft moans falling from your lips.
You felt exposed like this, cock dragging deliciously against your walls, riding his cock with ease from how wet you were.
"Don't be shy," Damon growled into your ear, beginning to nip at the skin of your neck again. "You weren't so shy with Liam, were you?"
"No." You answered, whimpering as he began to guide you to move faster, the tip of his cock brushing against your walls in search of your sweet spot.
"Look at you," He says from behind, eyes flicking between your face and the camera, capturing every moment. "Fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut."
As you began to move faster, your tits bounced from your movements, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.
"Taking my cock so easily like the dirty whore you are." He groans against you, the grip on your hips tightening as he brings you down on him harder.
Damon's hips thrusted to meet yours, making you cry out at the feeling of him splitting you in half right in front of this camera.
"This is what happens when you decide to be a slut and make a tape with someone else," He slams into you harder, feeling your walls clench around him. "And I won't stop until you come."
The worst part about it all was that, even though he was punishing and ruthless in his pace, it only turned you on more.
Arousal dripped down his cock from how wet you were, squelching sounds mixing with your moans as he didn't let up in his pace once.
You cried out when you felt his cock brush against your sweet spot, moans turning into breathless pants as you felt the pressure building.
"Damon," You gasp. "I'm gonna come, please…" You beg, mind hazy with pleasure.
"You want to come?" He reaches over and starts to rub his thumb over your clit, making your legs tremble as you practically scream. "You gonna come for the camera?"
It was becoming too much. You were right on the edge, unable to hold back much longer as your walls fluttered around him. "Yes, Damon, please!"
"Go on then," He watches your face as he rubs your clit faster, thrusting into your sweet spot. "Let me see you come."
Your vision went white as your walls clenched hard around him, his name falling from your lips as he continued to fuck you.
His rhythm faltered as your orgasm washed over you, cock twitching against your fluttering walls as he chases his release.
"He didn't even come inside," He whispers in your ear with a devilish smirk, almost territorial. "What kind of man is he?"
And with that, Damon spilled himself hot and deep inside you, triggering another mini orgasm from you as he filled you up completely.
You stayed like that for a moment, still buried with him, head resting on his shoulder. Damon, on the other hand, had a satisfied look on his face.
✰ ✰ ✰
Damon held the tape in his hand, fully knowing what the contents of the videotape were.
He thinks about sending it to Liam as a form of payback, as a way of having the last laugh…but he decides not to.
He wasn't going to play into this little game Liam started, and sending it would only mean that he cared about you and Liam making a tape in the first place.
Instead, he laughs and sets the tape aside, saving it for a time when you and Damon would watch it together.
Liam would always keep wondering how Damon reacted.
Damon was satisfied with having the quiet victory.
And nobody else would never know about how deep the rivalry went because of the secret Battle of Britpop Tapes.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis; after your old, shitty budget studio shuts down. you're lucky enough to receive an offer for a new contract at the most well-known, high end studio instead! you're a little nervous after being considered “inexperienced” and “amateur” at best. but don’t worry, your agent has secured your first video to be with the liam gallagher. he’s been in the industry for years, let alone your muse for the last few years as you’ve slowly climbed your way up the ranks. little did you know he’s been keeping an eye on you, watching all ur cute little videos with those men he knows can’t satisfy you properly. he can see it in ur face while you’re getting “fucked” in those cheapskate videos, and god he just wants to show you how it really is on the other side.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ pairing; 2000's pornstar!liam gallagher x fem pornstar!reader
warnings; 18+, nsfw, pornstar au, hair pulling, praise, oral (m! + f!receiving), multiple orgasms but not overstim, filming during sex, kinda rough sex, cum play, degradation, liam is pretty soft with you for the most part, reader calls liam sir/mr. gallagher, petnames, vaginal fingering, panty stuffing, crying, etc!
word count; 6.8k
a/n; i had one thought and couldn't stop myself. i hope you guys enjoy all of it!
“this is the last one,” your new manager gives you half a smile as he slides a document covered in legalese, clauses and words you've never seen before. you tap your pen against your cheek, looking up at him with a little bit of confusion. “it's a form consenting to everything and verifying that everything you've signed off on is true.”
you read through the contract, a little nervous especially with your last studio's scandal dragging behind you. but it never came up. not in the phone call, not in the interview, and not even once since you began filling out the paperwork. your last studio was nothing “glamorous.” it was old and shitty, everything a budget porn studio could be without being illegal. but it was a job.
you had been competing with your now new studio, and honestly, it was unfair that you hadn't been offered a contract here sooner. you suppose you had a lack of experience at this new studio, and they seemed to take professionalism a lot more seriously than your last one. you had heard about them through your other co-stars, specifically a name.
liam gallagher.
you were no fool, you knew exactly who he was. you had shamefully watched his videos a little more than you'd like to admit, but how could you resist? every girl he'd been with always looked like they had the time of his life — it didn't even look like acting. it looked like something so real, like they were actually enjoying themselves. and honestly, you weren't sure if you longed for him or just longed to be fucked like the girls.
black ink glides across the paper, smooth and formal. your manager tucks the paper into your file before extending his hand. your palm presses against his in a firm handshake and fixes you with a meaningful look.
“welcome,” he says before opening the door for you and leading you out of the small room. “ready for your first shoot?”
“ready as i'll ever be.” you respond automatically, a smile making its way across your face as he nods.
“perfect, follow me.”
⋆˚꩜｡⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢*ੈ✩‧₊˚
before you can overthink too much, you're already at the door with your manager in front of you. you can hear the chatter of voices inside, mainly the relaxed tones of conversation, and a familiar, loud mancunian floating through the thin walls. your manager opens the door, and all heads turn towards you.
“there's our lady of the hour!”
your entire body locks up as none other than the liam gallagher is standing in front of you, shaking your hand like it was the most casual thing in the world. you're a little gobsmacked and taken aback, unable to stop yourself from blinking incredulously a few times.
“name's liam,” he announces with a humble jerk of his thumb like he isn't the biggest star in the industry currently. his voice trails off, something about the camera crew standing to the side, but you don't really hear it — you're more focused on just how big he is. he's a lot taller than you, and his energy is smooth and yet uncontained and ecstatic at the same time. the corner of his lips tug into a sleazy, disarming smile and you can feel your inner thighs quiver. “—there's bit more improv in this one, but yer' manager seemed to know i was the right guy for the job, guess he thought ya' would need someone a little more... experienced.”
he's standing in front of you, his beefy arms now crossed over his chest with a friendly smile on his face, his tone dripping with smugness as he talks. he knows how good he looks, and you can't help but succumb to the heat beginning to burn through your cunt.
“yeah i think so too,” you smile back at him despite the way you blacked out at some point while he was talking. you'd seen him on camera and had watched a countless amount of his videos before. guiltily, you would admit you had watched some of his videos before shooting with your ex, unsightly co-workers. an electric thrill sizzles through your stomach, nerves bubbling in your thought. despite your obvious nerves, you figure it would only be polite to introduce yourself to him. “nice to meet you though, liam. i'm y/n.”
“trust me babe, i know who you are,” liam clicks his tongue as the corner of his mouth stretches into a devilish smirk, the predatory glint in his eyes making you shrink underneath his gaze. “'s a pleasure to be working with 'ya.”
the nickname slides off his tongue so dangerously it makes your cunt clench, leaving a sparking hot trail to descend between your thighs. your breath hitches in your chest, cheeks heating as you stare up at him, eyelashes fluttering. the tension coils in the air, as you maintain eye-contact, his teeth teasingly sinking into his plump lower lip, eyes trailing down over your body before sliding back up to meet your gaze.
“good afternoon, y/n,” the director steps in, saving you from the thick tension now sizzling through the air with a polite handshake. “i'll just give you a brief rundown of the shoot today, if that's alright? it'll be a simple, low-key debut for your first video.”
shamefully, your eyes shift back over to where liam stands behind the director, still towering over the both of you. his arms are still crossed over his chest, the muscles in his forearms twitching as he shifts his weight between his feet, his smile knowing as he catches your eye once more. your thighs squeeze together, and his grin only grows wider. you shift, suddenly starting to feel like his prey more than anything.
“— alright, now that that's out of the way,” the director's voice pulls you back into reality, causing you to swallow harshly, relieving the dryness in your throat. “if you want to take a seat on that couch right there, we can go ahead and get started.”
you nod before turning on your heels and walking over to the couch, deliberately avoiding any more prolonged eye-contact with liam out of fear of ruining the shoot. you adjust the hem of your skirt, smoothing out the fabric and adjusting your skimpy shirt before looking back over at the director and their crew.
a few people busy themselves with angling the cameras towards you and liam, others situating the microphones and such around you. hanta situations himself in a chair behind a desk, his hands clasped together over the table, looking like he's in command of everything. the director looks through the camera a few times, lifting his head up and tilting to the side to make sure everything was in order before shooting a thumbs up.
“ok, remember guys, you can call cut at any time,” the director repeats before nodding at the two of you, waiting until both of you nod back in confirmation. “okay and...action!”
“so,” liam immediately snaps into character, his voice husky and deep, carrying that tone of confidence that makes your knees weak. “how'd you hear 'bout us? what brings a pretty thing like yerself to our label?”
“oh y'know,” your voice wavers for a second as you unintentionally focus on the multitude of cameras filming you from every angle possible. liam's gaze hardens for a second, his chin tilting upwards. and suddenly, all your attention is sitting right on him. “i've seen quite a few ads online and through magazines and stuff, but i've also heard really great things from some friends.”
“oh, is that so, darlin'?” clear and effortless, his words roll straight of his tongue, dripping with that charisma that just came so naturally off him. he leans forward, looking at you directly in the eye. your breath hitches, the twitch of your throat so miniscule that only liam sees it. “tell me, what “really good things” have ya' heard then, hm?”
“i've heard that you guys are quite...experienced,” your voice slips into something sultrier, allowing the two of you to slip into the mood a little more. your face grows warm as liam leans back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head, exuding that sleezy confidence once more. “i haven't really been in the rock and roll scene before, but i wouldn't mind given it a try!”
liam's lips curl into a devilish smirk — like the one before — and his eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. it's acting. it's fake, and yet, your thighs are squeezing together as his eyes shamelessly rake down your clothed body; silently daring you.
“'ya seem nervous,” liam mentions offhandedly, swivelling around in that damn office chair like he owned the place. “am i making 'ya nervous, sweetheart?”
“....no,” you mumble, fumbling over your words for a second. you suck in a harsh breath before replying, smoothing your sweaty palms over the fabric of your skirt. “i'm just so incredibly grateful to be here, really.”
liam's eyebrows shoot upwards at your response, his smile growing wider as if he was proud of your quick recover. for someone so “inexperienced” in this industry, your acting was rather...good, if he dared so say himself. especially for a “newbie.” a quiet chuckle fell from his lips, only causing your cunt to twitch at the sound.
“now, now, bit eager, are we?” liam questions through a chuckle, leaning back against the table, his hands clasped together, knuckles resting underneath his nose. “i will say, our producers are gonna love 'ya. might even be able to get 'cha a shoot by tomorrow mornin', if i pull some strings f'ya.”
a genuine smile spreads across your face, as well as a small, surprised gasp. and fuck, you don't even realise how innocent it makes you look. and you especially don't realise how much it turns liam on. he's getting fidgety in his seat, and he leans forward even more, propping his chin up on his fist.
“really?” your voice swells as you speak, a hand finding its way to your chest. “thank you sooo much mr. gallagher! you will not regret having me on board! oh gosh, how could i ever repay you?”
oh. you even sound so excited!
“i reckon i've got a few ideas,” liam snickers sleazily, tilting his head downwards against his fist. your smile wavers, a nervous expression flickering past your face, suddenly feeling like prey under his heavy gaze. he spins his chair around to the side, resting his cheek on his propped-up fist while his other hand beckons you over with a flick of his index and middle finger. “c'mere, babe.”
you hesitate, nervously looking over at the director with a gulp, though you play it off as naturally looking around the room as if you were surveying the area. the director nods, making a “scooting” motion.
“c'mon,” liam repeats, his voice lighter and more comforting, lips pulled into a small wince as he juts his head in the same direction as where he's seated away from you in tandem with the flick of his fingers. “promise i won't bite.”
“what are you gonna make me do, mr. gallagher?” you murmur, with a pout as you walk over to him. liam almost leans his head back, a sweat beginning to break underneath his collar at just how well you're playing along with the scene; you're selling this nervous, virgin-turned slut image so fucking well that liam's cock is twitching behind the fabric of his jeans. “...didn't know this offer came with strings attached.”
“part of the industry, innit?” liam murmurs, eyes hooded with barely contained desire. you're standing in front of him on his side of the desk and he's looking at you like you're about to be his next meal. you can't help but shudder at how intense it all feels. “on yer' knees babe.”
you immediately drop onto your knees, so pliant and obedient that it almost makes liam shudder. instead, a surprised laugh is ripped from his throat as you stare up at him through your lashes, your wide doe-eyes making his knees feel a little weak.
“that easy, huh? thought 'cha was a singer, not some kinda pornstar.”
“i could be both.” you shoot back, eyes meeting his in a heated glance. liam's eyebrows shoot upward, amazed at both your confidence and immediate response. you've forgotten the director and camera crew were even there, solely focused on the man sitting in front of you, legs spread wide and his heavy cock sitting hard against his slacks.
“is that right?” liam's voice drops an octave, leaning forward until his entire hand cages the top of your head, forcing your head forwards until your face is pressed against his crotch. you let out a small yelp as you topple over, the sound muffled by the thick denim as your slightly open mouth lands on his clothed crotch. you can feel how thick and heavy is cock, and the mere thought makes your entire cunt quiver. his fingers thread through your hair, pulling your head back to allow you to position yourself a little neater between his thighs. “tch, thought you'd be better than this since you were so incredibly eager, hm?”
“'m sorry mr. gallagher,” you damn near whine, the sinful sound making liam's cock stir as you stare up at him before opening your mouth, your tongue rolling out to slide against the fabric. he gasps, the grip on your hair tightening out of surprise. you smile with your mouth open before continuing to slide your tongue over the fabric, even going as far to mouth over his clothed cock. “is this okay? just wanna show how thankful i am, sir.”
“...shit,” liam breathes out, head falling back as the soft, barely noticeable warm spreads through his abdomen. he really shouldn't be so damn excited off something as simple as this — something he's had plenty of during his time in this industry. but you just look so fucking cute, eyes wide and curious like you're genuinely wondering if you're doing good. “yeah, baby, be a bit better with the real thing though, don't 'cha reckon?”
“i—okay. yeah—yes, um. i'll do it for the, um, job.” your true persona shines through in your breathless response, and you can both feel and see the way his cock twitches in his jeans. you catch yourself as you begin to unbuckle his belt before hooking your fingers around his waistband and dragging his jeans down his thighs. “i'll do anything for the job, mr. gallagher.”
you yank his boxers right off his ankles and toss them behind you, seeming a little more eager than you wanted. liam chuckles again, the sound making your cunt clench around nothing, the desperate, annoying throb settling between your legs making your head dizzy with impatience.
liam's cock springs free, and your eyes widen as it slaps up against his lower abdomen. it looks nearly as good as you imagined — if not better. it's thick and long, the pretty pink tip glimmering with small beads of pre-cum, twitching as you stare at it with bright eyes. his chest swells with pride, and yes, he is well aware of how well-endowed he is. but seeing you stare up at him with stars in his eyes only strokes his ego. quite literally.
your hand apprehensively wraps around the base of his cock, and his spine straightens eagerly, fingers tightening around your head as your warm breath dances across the sensitive skin of his cock. you look up at him once more before your pretty pink tongue experimentally laps at the head of his cock, the salty beads of pre-cum flooding your tastebuds. it tastes musky and it's so undeniably him that it makes your head spin.
you smile up at him nervously as one of the crew members silently steps closer, holding onto a large camera. they tilt it downwards just as you tentatively open your mouth, lips wrapping around the tip and sucking ever so lightly. your tongue languidly swirls over the underside of his cock before curling around the tip. liam sucks in a harsh breath as you sliding further down towards the base, his pure girth stretching your jaw open with each bob of your head.
hips twitch forwards involuntarily, forcing his cock further into your mouth. yet, you don't falter, you just stare up at him with bright eyes, falling into a rhythm that works for you. with each bob of your head, you slowly take his cock inch by inch until your lips are kissing against the small trail of hair against his lower abdomen. a dull ache settles in the corners of your jaw as you open your mouth wider to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock, dragging your silky tongue across the prominent vein. liam's spine straightens as a harsh shiver crawls through his spine, a warm, soft pleasure spreading through his lower body and beginning to burn through his lower abdomen.
“that's it, baby, fuck, just like that,” liam murmurs, his head tilting backwards for a brief second. his voice is almost clipped, a tint of strain held deep within the octave as she speaks. “reckon yer' a natural.”
the taste of him — something earthy and subtly sweet — has your cunt clenching around nothing, a desperate pulse settling within your clit. and it's heavy on your tongue, the weight of his cock sliding even deeper with each movement of your head; tears of both strain and delight dot against the corner of your eyes, causing you to clench them shut as his tip hits the back of your throat. you gag involuntarily, and everything tightens so deliciously around him that he can't help but let out a moan, fingers winding even tighter in your hair.
“shit, baby...” his voice is breathless and airy. you moan ever so softly around his cock, your mouth stuffed so damn full that saliva begins to build up at the corners of your mouth. liam laughs, all cocky and full of himself, but so ruined while you can feel your clit throb with desperation. his free hand cups your cheek, wiping away the beads of spit away. “that desperate, are we? just fuckin' gagging fer it.”
you moan in response, struggling to breathe as his heavy cock continues to stuff your mouth full, your pace only increasing and growing a little sloppier with each bob. your free hand reaches up to caress his balls, and liam's eyes roll backwards. something salty gathers faintly in the back of your throat and he drags you off his cock, drawing his hips backwards. you look up at him with wide eyes as his hand slides over his cock, the other holding you in place right in front of him.
you instinctively open your mouth, tongue lolling out and liam's gone. warm spurts of his cum land over your cheeks and tongue, a soft, dirty moan escaping liam's lips as his hips buck forward into his fist. he's a little embarrassed that only your mouth had him cumming over your face like a damn teenager.
nobody has ever had him like this before.
you're both sitting in the shocked silence before liam remembers the cameras are rolling. his thick fingers run across your cheeks, scooping off the residue of his cum before swiping his wet fingers across your tongue. his lips curl into a smile as you eagerly swallow it without another thought, the warmth of his palm heavy against the top of your head.
“yeah, there's our cute lil' rockstar there, huh? look at 'ya...dirty lil' slut.” liam says with a wolfish smile, and you're swallowing harshly, the musky aftertaste of him still sitting heavy against your tongue. your thighs squeeze together, and his eyes flicker downwards towards your clothed cunt, his smile growing more devilish and wider.
god he just wants to fucking ruin you—
“cut!”
the camera stops rolling in the nick of time, and liam's immediately helping you up onto your feet and carefully smoothing his fingers back through your hair. with a soft sound, you push yourself upwards with the help of his hand. your eyes have glazed over with a noticeable desire for more, but the director steps forward before either of you can do anything off camera. cause lord knows, liam's struggling to contain himself with the way your legs are visibly shaking from pure need.
“that was really good, guys! are you both doing okay? i've got some water for you guys as well,” the director is immediately fretting over the two of you, and it warms your heart to realise this really might be the place for you. and if you had to do more scenes with liam...you would gladly. “also liam...haven't seen that from 'ya before.”
“what can i say? she's just fuckin mad,” liam chuckles, hardly embarrassed as he takes a bottle of water and hands it to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. he tilts his own bottle of water towards you before speaking once more. “guess i've gotta pay 'ya back now, hm?”
“oh it's okay—”
“nah, nah,” liam immediately shuts down your polite refusal after taking a sip of water before handing it back to the director. “i insist, babe. i've seen 'ya videos, and trust, yer' missing out. just want your debut video to be fuckin' sound, alright?”
you hesitate, looking between him and the director with a small smile. your thighs squeeze together, and the three of you already know the answer.
“'s alright, babe,” liam gently pats your shoulder. “i'll make it good f'ya, baby, promise. you'll be okay.”
a bundle of warmth ignites in your chest as a shy smile dawns across your face. you nod silently before he leads you back over to the couch, and he quickly looks over his shoulder at the director.
“we'll fade away to the next scene, if you'd like to undress, y/n.”
“i reckon it'd be better if we showed me undressing her, yeah?” liam suggested slyly, shooting you a quick wink before turning back over to the director. “make it more suitable for the plot, d'ya know what i mean?”
he turns back to you, a sly grin on his face.
“plus, i'd like to savour it as much as i can, yeah?”
his words make your face warm and your heart flutter. you avert your eyes with a shy smile, before standing back in front of the couch, staring at him expectantly. he winks at you again before turning back to the director and shooting him a thumbs up.
“just let us know if yer' uncomfy, 'right?” he says with a meaningful look in his eye, his hands reaching out to caress your waist. “promise i'll make 'ya feel good, 'kay?”
“and... action!”
liam makes quick work of your clothes, snapping back into his “character” once more without another word. his hands loop under the underside of your skimpy little shirt, slowly pulling it up and off your torso, but not without pressing a small kiss against your cheek. it seems a little too intimate for the scene, but it has your legs shaking, your cunt beginning to slick up the fabric of your panties once more.
“'s alright, 've got 'cha,” he whispers, almost too quiet for the nearby mic to pick up. “just gotta see if yer' really...rock star material, babe.”
he helps you shimmy your skirt off until you're left into your matching set, the lacey, baby pink fabric make his heart stutter in his chest. liam can hardly believe he finally has you, and god, he's on the verge of losing his restraint. he steps closer, his thick fingers beginning to unclasp your bra before letting it fall off your body.
liam gently shoves you down onto the couch before dropping to his knees, his hands soft and gentle as he slowly pushes your thighs apart. his fingers dance over your inner thighs, his eyes shifting downwards to look at your clothed cunt. there's a cute little wet spot beginning to form on the fabric.
the calloused pad of his fingers slides down towards your cunt, each gentle drag of his fingers over the fabric sending warm shocks up your spine. you're already shaking — your breaths coming out in short, quiet pants, thighs beginning to tremble with anticipation. he draws the scene out — mainly for your own sake — by beginning to rub small, teasing circles over the wet spot with a devilish grin on his face.
“so worked up already darlin',” he murmurs, voice airy while his other hand begins to rub small circles over the skin of your hip. he leans down, continuing his ministrations while pressing a delicate, chaste kiss across your lower stomach. he feels you tense, a quiet shaky breath falling from your lips. “calm down, haven't even given 'ya the job yet.”
your face burns with embarrassment, the tip of your ears growing warm as you swivel your head away, avoiding his intense gaze. his fingers finally move away to hook around the side of the fabric stretched over your cunt, silently asking for permission. you nod eagerly, shifting your hips side to side as the cool air hits your bare cunt.
he lets a small chuckle slip from his lips before lowering his head, eyes continuing to linger on your own. you suck in a quick breath, tilting your head forward to watch him. it wasn't like you hadn't done it before — but this time was different. you were about to let the liam gallagher have you — all of you. arousal brewed under your skin, burning low and hungry in the depths of your abdomen, your neglected clit beginning to pulse with hungry desperation.
“fuuuck, look at you,” he coos, voice doting and sweet but also holding a slight strain. “all spread out 'n' cute, fuckin' perfect f'me.”
his warm breath billows across your cunt, eyes falling shut as he places a soft, longing kiss directly atop your puffy clit. you shudder at the warm feeling, immediately growing desperate and hungry for more. he chuckles before flattening his thick tongue against your cunt, dragging upwards until the tip of his tongue curls over your clit. his hands find their way to your hips, gripping so tightly like he's worried to lose you.
you taste exactly like he expected — all sweet and easy on his tongue. and fuck you're so responsive that you're already rolling your hips up into his mouth, forcing his tongue to roll over your swollen clit, each flick of his tongue making a sigh of pleasure escape you. liam remembers all your cheap little videos he watched, watching you screw your face up into faux pleasure as your useless co-stars spent little time between your legs, not even bothering to make you really cum beforehand. but he'd fix that for you, wouldn't he?
your body is burning, warm heat spreading all throughout your body as you gasp, hands gripping his hair as his lips wrap around you, only amplifying the waves of pleasure rolling through you. your thighs are clenching, quivering around his head. each and every movement of his is perfectly calculated precise, and it only makes you incredibly overwhelmed. you've never felt like this before, too used to sloppy, uncalculated movements from all the men before. it's overwhelming and just enough at the same time — he knows exactly what you like, what you need. he knows everything, and yet, there's still more to give.
your hips buck sharply against his mouth as a rough pad of his finger gently circles around your entrance, collecting your abundance of slick dripping out of you. his lips curl into a smirk as you clench before he's gently pressing his finger inside of you, eyelids fluttering open to look up at you. he moans against you as your expression morphs into something sinful but real.
you let out a little whimper as he pulls his mouth away from your drenched cunt, his plump lips covered in a mixture of saliva and slick, and his chin already beginning to glisten. you're beginning to whine as he curls his finger up inside of you, hitting that little spot inside of you that makes you gasp.
“o-oh shit.” you moan before your mind falls completely and utterly blank, causing liam to chuckle. it feels so good that a pathetic plea leaves your lips, the words leaving your mouth despite knowing what you're actually begging for.
“atta girl,” he praises, slowly dragging his fingers against your walls, hitting every little spot you need. “takin' me so easily already. yer' my dirty lil' girl, aren't cha, sweetie?”
“ah! yeah—yes!” you cry out as he increases the pace of his finger inside of you, his head dropping back down on your clit just as quick as it left. his tongue laps up each and every drop of arousal leaking from your clenching hole before sloppily sliding his tongue back over your needy, throbbing clit. “just f'you—oh fuck!”
your mind is filled with a thick, hazy desire that begins to cloud your conscious, rendering you completely insatiable as his tongue flicks over your messy cunt, his finger ruthlessly pressing inside of your cunt, fucking you so hard you can already feel your orgasm beginning to brew within you. once your thighs begin to tremble, muscles clenching and unclenching rhythmically like your body doesn't know what to do with itself, liam's pressing another finger inside you.
it burns through you so deliciously, your spine curling as another pathetic plea leaves your lips. it curls inside of you, the calloused pads of his fingers pressing that little spot inside of you with every intention of ruining you for every other man. liam's tongue lashes over your clit, the tip of his continuously sliding around your clenching hole, desperate to collect every last drop of your syrupy slick like he'll never have you again.
“liam—” you cry out, breathless as your hips try and arch off the couch. you know you probably shouldn't be calling him that in the scene, but you're so fucked out you can't even bring yourself to care even a little. his free hand grips tighter around your thigh, pulling your back down while staring up at you through half-lidded eyes. he's afraid to miss it, but he's glad they're filming because he'll be watching this video over and over again until he has another chance to ruin you.
he's panting into your wet cunt, his mind thick with haze, and he's losing himself in the taste of you, needing you. needing more. he sucks your clit back into his warm mouth, tongue flicking relentless over it with quick, ruthless strokes. your moans fall into something higher-pitched, and needier. and he knows he's got you.
“c'mon, babe,” he hums low in his throat, voice muffled by your messy cunt. “show me how cute 'cha look when 'ya cum 'round my fingers.”
"liam—fuck!" you whine, voice pitched with a sense of urgency as your orgasm began to burn throughout your stomach. his words unravel you completely, your body curling inwards as you press the warmth of his body harder against you, craving his contact. your cunt clenches around him, clit throbbing and twitching as he presses a soft kiss over it, only extending the length of your orgasm. small after-shocks ebb through you, your body unwinding as you fall back against the mattress, breathing in as much air as you can.
you're spread out against the couch, skin burning warm and covered in a thin layer of sweat with one arm slung over your eyes, toes still curling as you come down from your high. you've never felt like that before, your aftershocks still twitching through you as liam caresses your waist.
“you okay, love?”
“cut!”
“nah, nah,” liam calls out, not even bothering to look over at the director. “let's finish the scene now, yer' okay with that right?”
you nod with a dazed smile, your cute little stunned expression only making his cock throb harder. liam doesn't wait to hear the director out before he's smashing his lips against yours, hungry and desperate. one hand reaches up to cup your cheek, guiding your jaw in tandem with his own rhythm, his other hand sliding up over your body, gripping at whatever he can. he pulls away, hands finding their way to your bare chest and squeezes your tits lightly before sliding his hands back down to your hips.
before you can gather your thoughts, liam's turning you around and bending you over the couch, his warm palms sliding over your bare ass to give the crew enough time to reposition their cameras to film you. your cunt swipes against his cock as you adjust yourself, lifting your hips a little higher. his fingers dig into your hips and anticipation bubbles in your chest, only fuelling the heavy tension and desperation held thick in the air.
you turn your head over your shoulder to look at him, bambi-eyed and nervous as you instinctively spread your legs open wider. liam lets out a heavy sigh, leaning his head back, overwhelmed and honestly, a little light-headed by the sight of you bent over for him, ready to give him all of you. your pulse thrums under your skin, adrenaline and anticipation coursing thick through your veins as liam spits on his hand before giving himself a few preparatory strokes.
your breath hitches as the wet tip of his cock presses against your entrance, the pressure suddenly incredibly real and daunting. he looks back up at you with a small smirk, and you don't even have to say anything before he's sinking his thick cock inside of you. it's a tight fit and an even tighter stretch —each inch punches a gasp out of your lungs and leaves you breathless, shaking against him.
he leans forward over your small frame, his free hand sneaking underneath you to begin rubbing small, tight circles over your sensitive clit. you gasp, cunt clenching down against his thick length. your entire body warms before liam pulls back until only the tip is left inside before slamming the rest of his length inside of you.
“fuck!” you gasp out, fighting the urge to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as the sharp pleasure cuts clean through you. liam snickers before grinding his cock deep inside of you, continuing to rub small circles over your puffy bundle of nerves, planning on fucking you so hard you forget it's all being filmed.
incoherent mumbles and whines begin to slip out of your mouth, nothing that he can understand, but he just leans over you to press a chaste kiss against the nape of your neck before looking to his left, and then his right. he reaches for your discarded panties and offers them up to your mouth. he's planning to make you scream, and this is a better chance of preventing your desperate little sounds from being picked up as background noise on the other videos being filmed nearby.
“good girl,” liam hisses out through gritted teeth, his voice low and quiet, quiet enough for the microphones to not pick up what he's saying. “keep your eyes on the lens babe, want all of this on camera, yeah?”
you nod feverishly in response, barely able to keep your head up as he rams his cock inside of you, stuffing you so full to the brim that you swear you can almost feel him in your chest. he bullies his cock deep inside of you, stretching your cunt out in a way that renders you absolutely speechless. a graceless, whiny sob tears out of your throat, just barely muffled by your wet panties, and it only spurs liam on even more.
you can feel yourself getting all worked up all to quickly; your cunt is clenching uncontrollably as liam grinds his hips against yours, your eyes rolling backwards as each rough thrust sends your body forward, slamming you against the raggedy old couch. your cunt swallows him whole, slicking dripping down your thighs as your entire body moulds to him, stretching you open like you were made for it. made for him.
“o-oh, oh shit!” your mouth falls open in a sob as the tip of his cock kisses that same spot inside of you, causing tears of pleasure to bubble against your waterline. stars shoot across your vision, small sparks of electricity coursing through you as he fucks you into oblivion. he's panting behind you, ragged breaths hot and balmy. “right there—oh god—right fucking there, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop!”
“shh, babe, 've got 'cha,” he murmurs through clenched teeth. “takin' it so fuckin' well.”
slick pours from your soaked, stuffed cunt and makes the slide of skin against skin all the more filthy. his cock is thick and curved, lodged in all of those places you could possibly want it; each nudge of the tip just grazing your cervix is controlled. just barely. but you can feel the strain of restraint behind his thrusts.
god, just the thought of him destroying your cunt this much — ruining you for every other man — while also still holding back is enough to push the tears over your lash line. liam chokes out a groan, his grip on your hips beginning to throw you back into his thrusts, only making your audible sobs louder and needier.
“fuck—fuck! i can't, i'm gonna—i'm so close!” you sob. you've stopped making sense, and liam can almost make out what you're babbling through your wet panties; each word is broken and choked, thanks to him knocking the air from your lungs with each thrust. your head is falling forwards, teeth clenching around the panties and impending euphoria surges through you, burning and coiling so tight inside of your stomach you fear you're going to burst. spurred on by your words, he drives his hips harder into you, pulling you back into his cock; each thrust hits so much harder than it did before. “p-please, liam, 'm gonna cum—you're gonna make me cum—!”
liam grins, wicked and vicious. you can hardly focus on anything with the way his fingers slide messily over your clit. the burning pleasure cuts through you, your mind falling blank as liam brings you to the edge. that's right. he's going to make you cum.
“that's it, babe,” liam moans, no longer caring if it's picked up on the video or not. “tell 'em. tell everyone who's fucking you this good.”
your breath escapes you in a vicious sob of his name again, hands scrambling at the tattered fabric of the couch, trying to cling onto something to keep yourself stable. but you're so fucking gone, it's just too much. you can hardly breathe — you can't think, can't move, just forced into submission underneath him. and you fucking love it. your cunt struggles to take his length, constantly fluttering and clenching as he bullies it inside of you, and your body just...takes it.
“i wanna hear 'ya cum all over me, yeah? fuck i—”
your eyes roll back as white-hot pleasure snaps through you, your legs shaking and almost falling inwards as your orgasm crashed over you. his fingers continue to rub over your puffy cunt, trying to draw everything out of you. you cum all over him with a loud, noisy cry of his name, riding your orgasm out as you throw your hips against him. his name is the only thing on your tongue as you ride it out. liam follows shortly afterwards, spilling hot and thick inside of your ruined cunt with a weak, slutty moan of your name.
you both lay there in the warm silence, and liam wishes he could spend all day with you and keep stuffing your cunt full and to fuck you like you really deserve. but the director stands behind the camera with his thumbs up before zooming in towards the two of you. liam steps off to the side, his thick fingers forming a 'v' shape and spreading your messy lips open for the camera to showcase the mess between them.
if he had it his way, he'd be fucking his tongue inside of you, pushing his cum back inside of you with his fingers before flipping you over and fucking you into a state of overstimulation. he knows what you need — what your pussy needs.
but yet, he stares at the camera with a cocky little smirk and a small click of his tongue.
I decided to make my own version of @strwbryluver 's twitter links post!
And dont worry! Im not copying her because she said it was okay!
I would highly recommend watching these in your room and with headphones on😭😭
Enjoy😈
The headers are from @saradika-graphics !
Liam Gallagher
Dilf!Liam punishes you with your own toy , he's so desperate for you , he follows you into the dressing room , punishing him for being a manwhore , LOVES eating you out , sex tape worthy , determined to get you pregnant , making you squirt for the first time , he's got the munchies , Dilf!Liam making you sit on his lap , you're his breakfast , "gotta make sure it sticks~" , riding his thigh , ruining your work clothes , so needy he stops you from making dinner , tummy bulge , he worships you , putting you in a headlock , fingering you in the pub bathroom , filling you up in the morning , lowkey might have a corruption kink , dilf!Liam and inexperienced reader , making you see stars , werewolf!Liam , priest!liam , professor!Liam , pegging dilf!Liam , mafia!Liam , "s'just the tip baby~" , Damon x Liam x Graham , Steellagher(Liam x Peter Steele) , dilf!Liam and Lennon's girlfriend , Dilf!Liam finds your toys
Noel Gallagher
He's too high to fuck you , wedding night , "ya taste so fucking good love~" , he loves fingering you , daily hole inspection , puts you in your place , he LOVES ruining your panties , fingering the girl next door , "Ya taste so fucking good love, bet i can get ya to squirt~" , stretching out both of your holes , jealous!Noel making you squirt , dilf!Noel punishes you for embarrassing him , mafia!Noel's new toy(part 1) , mafia!Noel's new toy (part 2) , piano teacher!Noel , Dilf!Noel fucking you on a private beach , letting him manhandle you , Noel gets the munchies , this reminded me of White Mustang , professor!Noel , soaking you both , dilf!Noel loves your boobs , sugar daddy!Noel , guardiollagher part 1 , dilf!Noel loves reader's pajamas , dilf!mafia!Noel , guardiollagher part 2 , Ghostface Pep x Noel , Steellagher(Noel x Peter Steele) , guardiollagher in the locker room , pre fame!Noel x innocent reader , guardiollagher part 3
you and pre-fame!liam are bestfriends, and lately he's been avoiding you, till this one night when you two got... closer.
cw: sex sex sex. a slightly pathetic liam. oral (f. receiving). a bit of fluff.
g/n: hello! im a bit nervous bc my first fic did very well. who else is obsessed with olivia's new album? i love purple and i got the title for this fic while i was listening to it! btw i took a bit too long to get to the point sorryyy. again, i dont speak english so sorry if there's any mistakes. thank you for reading and enjoy<3
no proofread.
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night plunged the street into darkness. yellow lights cast a soft glow over the ground, just enough to see the pavement clearly. as the blocks passed by, the noisy pubs, the excited people talking about the latest match and the laughter turned into a faint murmur, fading away along with the crowds. by the time you reached home, there weren’t many people left on the street; after all, it was late. and as you two walked down the street and his eyes were focused on the darkness of the sky, all you could do was stare at him.
you’d spent that evening with a group of friends in a pub, nothing too wild – just a couple of shots, a couple of pints and lots of laughter. you’d been begging Liam all week to come with you, until he finally agreed. lately, for some reason unknown to you, he hadn’t been keen to hang out much – at least not with you – and had just been spending time with the lads in his band.
after the pub, as always, Liam walked you home, and when you reached your door, you invited him in.
“wanna stay the night? i've got some vodka.”
it was normal to have sleepovers with Liam, even before you moved into your own flat. as you’d been such good friends, practically since childhood, your mum trusted him completely and knew he wasn’t a threat in any way, as you two never acted suspiciously, or flirted or anything like that. just good friends, that’s all. but the truth is, part of that was a lie. nobody knew and nobody was meant to know; it was a secret you were going to take to your grave or confess to Liam one day when you were both old and had families of your own, just as a joke.
you fancied Liam.
practically from the very first moment you saw him years ago. it’s just that he was always very good-looking. nothing happened because you quickly became best friends; it was as natural as the moment flowers bloom in spring. it wasn’t that he had a specific type, but he was always surrounded by pretty girls because he was gorgeous, so he had plenty to choose from. Lots of them – too many, in fact. he was never on his own. so for those reasons, you didn't even bother trying, thinking you didn't stand a chance. you simply tore that page out of the book and remained great friends with Liam. he was a really good friend.
it was such a close friendship that the two of you spent most of your time together. now that you were older and each had your own responsibilities – in your case, studying – perhaps you couldn’t see each other quite as often, but you did remain close. as you grew up, Liam would spend afternoons or even days on end at your house. his mum worked a lot, so she was hardly ever at home and he got bored easily, but the main reason he liked being at your place was the space. since you were an only child, you had your own room at your parents’ house; there was no chaos apart from your own mess. Liam, on the other hand, shared a room with his brother, who was always nagging him about tidiness, even though Noel was just as messy.
“now that’s a good plan,” he’d say whenever you offered him to stay the night. “don’t want to go home to r'kid. he’ll probably be bringing his bird tonight and I’ll end up sleeping on the couch. ” that was a very common line before Noel moved out of their house. things were different now, but him staying over was still a natural habit.
and this time, Liam nodded in agreement to your suggestion, which surprised you for a moment, as lately whenever you’d invited him over he’d said he couldn’t. however, you didn’t say anything, though you were happy that he’d accepted.
as soon as you walked into your house, Liam took off his jacket and shoes and went to lie on the couch. that was an old routine by now; there was no need to go through all that hostess routine or anything – if he needed anything, he’d just go and get it himself. you went straight to have a shower and change into something more comfortable, put off by the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to your clothes and hair. meanwhile, he’d helped himself to the bottle of vodka you’d mentioned, and when you came out of the shower, you gestured for him to come to your room. there they sat on the carpet drinking and listening to some music. neither of you said a word. at this point there wasn’t much to say because Liam knew practically everything about you and vice versa. besides, you were both such chatterboxes that every now and then a bit of silence did you both good.
“are you coming to rehearsal tomorrow?”
at the question, you turned your head to look at him and nodded.
he was starting a band with three friends and his brother, who wrote the songs. the music was good, although they hadn’t quite finished anything yet, but they seemed quite promising in your opinion. he seemed very determined and that impressed you, as he tended to move from one thing to another quite easily.
you shifted to find a more comfortable position, sitting with your back against the side of the bed. “yes, I think so. i’ve finished my final exams, so I’m free.”
he nodded, taking another sip from the glass he’d prepared.
for a moment you watched him, debating whether or not it was worth bringing up the subject that had been causing you so much curiosity and annoyance lately. but your mouth never seems to heed the stop sign, rushing to spurt out the words.
“i’m surprised you’ve invited me,” you said, picking up the glass for a sip, speaking in a calm tone, almost playing it down, as if it were a joking remark. “you haven’t even wanted to go out with me lately.” his first reaction was to roll his eyes and grumble, before looking at you with amusement.
“you’re dead dramatic.”
“it’s the truth! you’re always off with your mates. you’ve completely forgotten about me.” although it was mostly meant to tease him, beneath the joking tone lay a bitter truth. you’d hardly seen him at all over the last few weeks; there was always an excuse not to go out, whether it was to pop round to your place for a cup of tea or for you to go to his. the plans were there—you’d organise them, giving him an endless array of options in case the reason was a lack of money or a lack of desire to go out—but the answer was always no. at some point, you’d stopped believing his reasons. yes, he was focused on the band and all that, but you’d bumped into Guigsy several times walking through the park with his girlfriend on those days when Noel supposedly had them ‘chained to their instruments’. you didn’t say anything to him on any of those occasions, but his lack of honesty in telling you he didn’t want to or that he had something better to do was starting to get on your nerves. besides, if you had to be honest, you knew he was probably seeing some girl, and that weighed heavily on your heart.
“i spend all my time rehearsing with them,” he explained, his words dripping with obviousness, giving you a matter-of-fact look. but then he added: “it’s just that it’s different now.”
“why?”
“because… you’re a girl.”
you let out a huff of laughter. “so?”
“you know what i mean.”
“no, i don’t."
he sighed. “there are things that…” he shook his head from side to side. “you know.”
realising he was referring to the dirty way he and his mates talked, you rolled your eyes. “oh, it’s just that you can’t do the things you do with them with me. you have no shame.”
Liam laughed at the look of utter disgust on your face, as you looked completely repulsed by what ‘the things they did’ implied. to annoy you even more – typical of him – in one swift movement he grabbed your right wrist, snatching your favourite ring from one of your fingers. he used to take it off you and put it on himself, always saying it was very eye-catching and he liked it, even though it didn’t quite fit his finger as his were chubbier than yours.
“anyway, i’m glad you’re rehearsing,” you added, and as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, Liam saw as much sincerity in your eyes as in your voice. “you seem really passionate about it.”
he smiled slightly, now looking down at his hands holding your ring between his fingers, examining the little purple amethyst stone set in it.
“it’s because we’re the best band in the world.” simple, like a universal truth being stated. your lips curved into a gentle smile at such confidence, especially because you believed him. “one of these days someone else is going to see it and we’re going to be big, proper big and all.”
“absolutely,” you agreed immediately, with the same certainty, moving closer. although they were just words, your voice cut straight through his chest; the honesty in it was so sharp that it managed to reach right into his heart. you’d always been the one to follow Liam in his endeavours, to support him and be the first to encourage him to do things that might seem too risky—if they were worth it—and that wasn’t new to him; after all, that’s why you were best friends. however, the gentle caress of your trust enveloping him was a sensation that bathed him in joy as if it were something new. “and I hope that by then you won’t forget about me.”
still smiling at your ring, he fell silent for a few seconds, simply letting the words tickle his throat before plucking up the courage to say them.
“i’m gonna get you outta Manchester.”
and so he said them, as if they were a fact, leaving no room for argument or doubt. as certain as opening your eyes in the morning and looking at the sun, as sure that water is wet and birds sing. as sweet as a spoonful of honey after a cup of coffee.
from the centre of your chest, the warmest tingling sensation spread to every extremity of your body, like being wrapped in sunlight. you didn’t want to think beyond the words—such simple words that meant nothing—but when you’re in love, it’s impossible not to look straight at the sun and dare it to blind you. you’re so foolish that you cling to the simplest things to feed the heart’s illusion. but besides that, the mere idea that he’d include you in his dreams… it was like being one and the same being, as if there were still a room for you in the future, even if you were still just a friend. or at least that’s how it made you feel.
despite the whirlwind of love coursing through your body, you looked at Liam with amusement, beneath which lay an eagerness to know more about that remark. “so, I’m part of the plan too?”
with his eyes still fixed on the ring, he shrugged, as if it were no big deal, or perhaps as if it were something everyone knew. “obviously.”
you were glad he wasn’t looking at your face at that moment, because you were sporting the silliest smile ever seen. “right,” you said, nonchalantly, approving of his decision. “i’m going to ride on your coattails, and you’d better buy me nice things.”
“maybe.”
“maybe?”
he finally looked at you, grinning from ear to ear this time, signalling that the tender moment would end as soon as he’d thought of something annoying to say to you. “yeah. it depends on whether you keep bein' as annoyin' as you are right now.”
you both laughed and you rolled your eyes, taking your ring off. “twat.”
after the laughter died down, silence spread through the room for a moment. Liam kept sipping his vodka whilst you blinked up at the ceiling, holding back the storm of emotion that was putting every nerve on high alert. feelings can’t be controlled, so it was impossible for you to stop the warmth that kept spreading through your chest at the mere realisation that you were part of the plan. something so stupid that surely it hadn’t made him think twice.
"i’m going to get you outta Manchester.’
that phrase bounced around in your head like a soft echo.
but that warmth had to be countered immediately, before you did something stupid, like speaking tenderly to him about the plan you had in your head—how you were going to study hard to get a good job and take him everywhere, to lovely places you couldn't afford at the moment.
“stop drinking. i'm not letting you throw up all over my bathroom again.”
Liam burst out laughing and ran his hand over your mouth, letting one of his fingers slip between your lips. he always did that, and although part of you found it disgusting and you’d slap his arm for being so gross, another part felt completely embarrassed by just how much it turned you on when he did that. you slapped his arm, making a sound of disgust, but he didn’t stop laughing.
“shut up,” he replied, immediately taking another swig from his glass and giving you a defiant look, which made you roll your eyes.
“i’m serious!” you exclaimed between laughs. “if you throw up, i'll throw you out. stop drinking now.”
"'m pluckin' up some courage.”
at that reply, you frowned, looking at him amused at the prospect of some ridiculous comment from him, given his joking nature. “what for?”
instead of speaking, Liam simply turned his head to one side and finally looked you in the face. the expression you saw there managed to unsettle you even more. suddenly he was serious. his lips were slightly parted and his tender, deep-sea eyes were dropped, staring intently at your mouth. you almost panicked when you realised.
then.
it finally happened.
it was as if a flash had struck your face; it all happened very quickly and very slowly at the same time, as if you’d suddenly left your body, or as if your gaze had been dazzled by a bright light shining directly into your eyes. a hand cupped your cheek just as a sigh brushed your lips, which parted without you even realising it, and in a second you felt the gentle pressure of a mouth against yours.
yes, his lips were as soft and plump as they looked.
for a second your body went rigid, completely taken aback by the touch, until gently your lips moved over his, kissing him a little hesitantly, unsure whether this was allowed, whether the bubble would burst and Liam would realise it wasn’t what he wanted. but no, quite the opposite. feeling your response – albeit hesitant, still a response – he pulled you towards him, holding your waist firmly, making you sit on his thighs. the kiss deepened as he tilted your head just enough, his lips setting the pace, teaching yours how to kiss him, showing you that it was okay to let yourself go. every heartbeat pounded hard against your chest, almost as if demanding to be set free, longing to fall into the hands of the boy holding you, eager for more affection.
when you pulled apart, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. perhaps it was nerves, or embarrassment, or the absurdity of having kissed your best friend, but you couldn’t stop laughing. Liam rolled his eyes, yet his lips twitched, fighting back a smile.
“idiot.”
far from coming up with a reply to the nickname – you were far too overwhelmed for that – the word blossomed in your chest like a flower opening in spring under the blazing sun. yes, you were a silly girl, silly for having your heart racing a mile a minute over a lad as daft as Liam, whom you were always teasing because he was so easy to wind up. the thing is, neither is Liam daft nor are you a silly girl, but it made you feel a funny sort of anger at just how much you liked him. then he kissed you again, devouring that laughter—this time not so sweet, but rather hungry, playful—the sort of kiss that made the ground shake beneath you as you realised he’d been waiting for this.
the kisses continued and your body, completely relaxed and without a trace of stiffness, melted in his hands. gently, he laid you down on the floor with his body on top of yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other resting on the floor. every nerve in your body was tingling with anticipation, causing your lungs to fill rapidly—not out of fear, but out of excitement. no one but you knew how hard it had been to put on a front, to avoid eye contact and to lock away your feelings deep within your heart. seeing Liam with other girls didn’t cause you so much pain as curiosity; what would it be like to kiss him? how would it feel to touch his nose, his eyebrows, his hair? would he touch you with intent? and now, at this very moment, as the hand that had been on your cheek had slid down to squeeze your waist, you felt that you could finally die in peaceful contentment.
due to the need to breathe, you pulled away for a moment, but not far. his eyes scanned your face, searching for any hint of regret, but there wasn’t any. alll he found was a silly smile and a slight blush on your cheeks. it was so intense that you worried you were wearing no make-up, which was ridiculous because Liam had seen you in far worse states thousands of times.
but not like this. not after kissing you like that.
without helping it, he buried his face into your hair, letting the scent fill his nostrils before moving to your neck, where he left soft pecks. it made your breath hitch, even more than kisses on the mouth, making you sigh very softly. there was nothing sexual about that moment; the way his lips traced kisses on your skin was gentle, slow, unhurried. you couldn’t explain it, but it felt as though your bodies were like liquids blending together, as though every time his mouth pressed against your skin, he left a trace of his colour on it. it was like when you mix two paints; as they blend, they create a new colour, melting into one another. you two melting into each other's bodies.
“you smell nice,” he said.
“yeah?”
“yeah. like fruit. i like it.”
“it must be my shampoo.”
“must be,” he replied, slowly leaning in to capture your lips once more.
in the blink of an eye, the intensity of his kisses was overwhelming in the most delightful way, and you found yourself needing to respond just as eagerly as he did. Your hands quickly found their way between your bodies, groping each other without a shred of modesty, consumed by the heat of the moment. yours found their way to his back, sliding down his chest, tugging at his hair, eliciting soft, sweet sounds from him. as for Liam, he squeezed your thighs, raising one of your legs to make room between them. he caressed your hips and waist, squeezing now and then. but when his fingers slipped beneath your shirt and a shiver ran up your spine, there was a breaking point that allowed the tension to finally explode and for you both to grope each other properly.
then your fingers slipped under his t-shirt towards his chest, before touching his back, pressing there to pull him against your chest. at such firm body-to-body contact, his hips pressed between your legs, the friction drawing a moan from both of you. heat meeting heat through layers of clothes, feeling so good. sensing each other’s response, you wrapped your legs around his hips and Liam moved his hips against yours. the most pitiful moans escaped from your throats as you moved your bodies against each other, almost unable to bear how good it felt.
when it became too much and Liam felt he was about to come right there, rubbing against you through his trousers, he pulled away just enough to take off his shirt. youur eyes were wide open, stunned, but your arousal clouded any sense of embarrassment. you both began to undress eagerly, trembling, careless fingers pushing fabric out of the way. socks, shirts, trousers, underwear – everything scattered across the floor of your bedroom in seconds.
as the two of you stood there completely naked, your gazes felt like they were burning into each other’s skin. two pairs of eyes roamed over the other’s body, tracing every line, every shade of skin, every texture, every mark. it was then that the haze of lust cleared enough for both of you to laugh at the situation you found yourselves in – a little embarrassed, but mostly excited.
“cheeky cunt." he teased. “stop looking at me.”
your cheeks burned, but you weren’t going to show weakness. “then you stop looking at my breasts.” you replied with false annoyance and a smile.
“i can’t, they’re so beautiful.”
Liam lifted you off the floor, carrying you to the bed where he positioned himself on top of you. awkwardly, his hands hurried to unwrap the condom and then put it on. you never took your eyes off him, watching intently as his hands slid the latex over his flushed cock. you were so wet it was embarrassing, giving away just how turned on you were by him. though it was only natural, wasn’t it? Liam was gorgeous. but he was your friend…
“right.” once the condom was on, he moved between your legs, making the necessary space. then, holding the base of his cock, he slid the head of his hard cock between your wet folds, slowly coating its length with your wetness. at that, you gasped, unable to help yourself. how desperate you were had made you far too sensitive, and the way his cock was rubbing against your cunt did nothing to help you hold back your moans. meanwhile, he was even worse off, his face all red and biting his lip with his eyes closed.
“please, let me put it in,” he whined.
Liam sounded so, so desperate – a thousand times more pathetic than you – and it sent a shiver down your spine. you nodded eagerly, wrapping your arms around him as he guided the head of his dick towards your entrance. without waiting any longer, he thrust inside, letting out a beautiful moan at the tightness that enveloped him so warmly. your nails dug into his back, adding a little extra pleasure for Liam, who loved the idea of having his back all marked by you.
once he was fully settled inside you, your arms held him tight and his face buried itself in your neck, the skin there muffling his moans and gasps. both of you took a few seconds to catch your breath, simply taking in the sensation of having him inside you, of just how tight you were. for the two of you, it was like a feverish dream. every sensation was more than intense—overwhelming and suffocating—making you both hyper-aware of the heat of your skin, the force of your heartbeats, and Liam’s cock inside you. tenderly, you planted a little kiss on his temple, drawing a sigh from him.
hugging each other, he pulled out halfway before pushing back in again. then he began to thrust, slowly at first, testing the waters, savouring the sheer novelty of it all – something that had once seemed impossible. your eyes rolled back as your grip on Liam tightened, clinging to him whilst his hips began to slam into yours with greater intent, letting you feel every inch slide against your walls. growls escaped his throat, savouring the sound his crotch made against yours, now wet and slick with your arousal.
“yes,” you moaned, scratching at the skin on his back. “oh, fuck, Liam, more please.”
the echo of your voice, dripping with desperation, sent a jolt through him; hearing you moan his name went straight to his cock. so he picked up the pace, completely consumed by the desire to elicit more of those moans from you, each thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs in a way that made your toes curl. he was just starting and already there was no rhythm, but rather sloppy rolls of hips, as if this moment had been waiting far too long for it to happen and so now he simply couldn’t help but act on it. it was essential to concentrate fully, as Liam felt that if he lost himself too much in the sensation of finally being inside you, he’d come in two seconds and embarrass himself forever.
with every thrust, your brain felt itself melting away. desperate gasps rose from the very depths of your body, whilst your half-lidded eyes stared blankly at a spot in the room, almost unable to take in what was happening. as for him, as much as he tried to take it slowly, he couldn’t; his body was begging for more and more, and the way you pleaded between moans for him to please go deeper didn’t exactly help him hold back either. It’s just that when there’s too much pent-up tension, the moment it finds a way to burst forth, the result is like a tornado sweeping through with utter recklessness. worse still, when the tip touched a spot so sweet that it sent shivers through your whole body, your need for more only intensified. your nails practically dug into his pale skin – which, the next morning, would leave Liam with red marks, living proof that no, this time it wasn’t just one of his many dreams after touching himself whilst thinking of you.
"do you like it like this?" he breathed, pulling back slightly to watch the way your face twisted with pleasure, how your eyebrows were furrowed and your mouth wide open, unable to contain your moans.
completely lost in the moment, you nodded eagerly. "yes, yes, yes," you replied, holding him tighter. "please, more. please."
he didn’t even have to hesitate, obediently continuing the movement of his hips just as you clearly liked it. suddenly, everything was consumed by Liam, as if he was a flame spreading through a forest, taking every trace of lucidity with him. your hands felt his skin burning; your lips were now busy kissing his, savouring the vodka on his tongue; your nose took in the perfume he liked to wear most and a layer of sweat caused by the frantic thrusting of his hips against yours; and your ears were ringing with the noises Liam was letting out, but not just that—also the wet sounds every time his cock slid in and out of your pussy. so, so obscene that it only served to turn you on even more.
as he pulled away from the kiss, Liam immediately attacked your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, sniffing the faint scent of your vanilla soap. then he began to suck on your skin, hard enough to leave red marks there, exchanging with you the same act of letting behind a trace of having been there, just as you were doing by scratching his back.
moaning, he murmured against your neck. “oh, fuckin’ hell, no.”
“what? what’s wrong?”
“i’m going to come.” he whined, never stopping his thrusts. his hands now gripping your hips very tightly, holding back.
you let out a breathy laugh at how pitiful he sounded, lamenting his lack of stamina. In a situation like this, should anyone be annoyed? you didn’t know it, but it certainly hadn’t bothered you in the slightest that Liam was already on the verge of coming. to be honest, it slightly amused you and also boosted your ego, because he was always acting like he was some sort of sexual expert or something, and for him to be so weak with you… plus hearing him talk like that, almost crying, added a bit to the sensation.
“who cares, just keep fucking me.”
“i swear, 'm not usually like this, but you’re not helpin'.” his grip on your hips got firmer as he shifted, angling himself deeper, reaching spots that made your eyes roll. “christ, you’re so hot.” he complained, frustrated at himself for being so weak in front of such a pretty girl.
oh, but he needed that release so badly, he decided to stop worrying and instead focus more on the way you were clenching around him with every thrust – so wet it made him weak at the knees.
and as he groaned, his mind in another state of bliss, practically touching the sky with his fingertips, his face buried in your neck. such was the overwhelming need that shook his body that his mind completely uninhibited the boy on top of you, leaving him more exposed than the clothes he’d taken off.
“oh, fuck, i love you so much,” he growled, knocking the wind out of your lungs with more intensity than his thrusts.
i love you.
i love you so much.
you didn’t know if it was the heat of the moment or what, and Liam didn’t give you much time to think about it either, because seconds later his body was jerking, then stopping deep inside you, spilling into the condom at the same time as he let out whimpers into your neck.
he stayed like that for a while, growling against your skin whilst his hips twitched and his chest gasped for air. slowly, carefully, he pulled out of you.
but instead of just pulling away and leaving it at that, as you'd thought would happen, after letting out a shaky breath, Liam moved downwards, spreading your legs. without any preamble, his tongue gave a slow lick from your entrance to your clit, making you moan in surprise. your hands flew up to grab his hair, pulling hard just as the tip of his tongue began to circle your most sensitive spot, pressing there whilst two fingers slid inside you. your back arched off the bed, whimpering, your toes curling and your head falling back against the pillow. he was really on a mission, and having finished before you, Liam was determined to make it up to you and ensure you reached that sweet release too.
“oh, yes” you gasped, feeling your belly tingling. “yes, fuck. Liam, that's– oh, my god, that’s so good...”
your legs clamped around his head at the same time the grip on his hair tightened. each time he sucked your clit, breathy moans spilled out of your mouth, proof of what a delicious job he was doing. Liam was practically drooling all over your folds, getting it even wetter as he ate you out like he was starving. he wanted so bad to make you feel good, to prove he wasn’t a useless prat who came fast and left girls unsatisfied, and it showed in the way his tongue never stopped lapping and circling, making out with your pussy. his fingers thrusted into you with a gentle pace, different than the rythm of his mouth, curling to touch your sweet spot each time.
that delicious tingling was building up in your belly, so intense that your vision was practically blurred. “please,” you cried, pressing his face against your cunt. your head fell to one side, sobbing into the sheets. “Liam, please don’t stop. Liam!”
of course, he had no intention of even breathing. in fact, he quickened the pace of his tongue, pressing it flat against your bundle of nerves, circling firmly whilst his fingers slid in and out of you with a little more force. that was when your body tensed and shuddered, clouding your vision, sending tingles all over your body and making you feel dizzy for a moment, leaving you melted onto the bed with absolute silence in your mind, unable to escape the warm mist enveloping you. he continued licking, even as your body trembled with sensitivity, breathing heavily against your pussy.
you began to whimper, squirming and arching your back. “i can't–” you gasped, your eyes tightly shut.
Liam didn’t pull away for a second, practically panting as he continued to lick up every last bit of your release he could. your body was hypersensitive, reeling from your orgasm, so your hands instinctively pushed his head away, at this point feeling a sharp tingling sensation.
“Liam!” you whined between giggles. “it’s too much.”
he finally pulled away and withdrew his fingers, laughing breathlessly. you both burst out laughing properly, you still slightly dizzy from your orgasm.
“open your mouth,” he said suddenly, still laughing.
amused, you frowned, not quite grasping what he meant, but you obeyed. with your lips parted wide, Liam leaned in and slipped the two fingers he’d used to finger you into your mouth. although it took you by surprise, it didn’t take you long to start sucking on them, tasting yourself on them.
“you're so hot” he murmured. despite the needy tone in his voice, he had such a smug smile it made you roll your eyes and playfully slap his cheek, lightly. he laughed again and pulled his clean fingers out of your mouth, then lay down beside you, both of you staring at the ceiling.
as your bodies began to cool, the realisation of what had just happened hit you like a bucket of cold water. the only sound was your breathing gradually returning to normal, and perhaps someone passing by outside your house. such serenity allowed your minds to run wild with questions and doubts. you would never, ever have imagined that you’d end up having sex.
you didn’t know what to do or what to say, as at that moment any comment seemed awkward to make. your heart was pounding, so hard that you thought he might be able to feel it in the silence that enveloped the two of you. going from moaning his name loudly to a deafening silence felt unsettling. you wondered what he might be thinking, whether he’d decide to leave or stay the night, whether everything would be back to normal the next day or whether you’d ruined it completely.
when you finally plucked up the courage to ask him if he wanted some water – a vague question to test the waters – Liam surprised you by turning towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close against his body. his nose nuzzled your hair, breathing in the scent created by your fruity shampoo and the hint of sweat clinging to your body. you couldn’t move or say a word, just like when a skittish cat comes over to rub against your legs and you don’t even want to breathe for fear of scaring it away. but despite how tense you were, it was impossible not to melt under his touch, so glad that his first reaction hadn’t been to pull away.
fireworks were going off in your chest, spreading a sweet warmth and bringing a smile to your lips. you were so happy it’s hard to put into words, because the love that was overwhelming you at that moment was so intense that thinking was impossible. all that remains is the feeling of loving and being loved, and in that moment you felt that you were loved by Liam—and not just as a friend.
he let out a frustrated sigh through his nose before gently breaking the silence, the same frustration evident in his voice.
“it’s cos you’re pretty,” he murmured simply, leaving you confused.
“what?”
“you’re pretty, that’s why i didn’t want to hang out with you anymore.”
with confusion written all over your face, you turned your head to look at him. “i don’t understand.”
he sighed, looking at your mouth and then your eyes, his own slightly droopy. “i’ve always liked you. think ever since that night i first stayed over at your house – d'you remember?” you nodded. “that day...i remember it clearly. i stayed awake all night watchin' you sleep. you’re so pretty. and lately… i dunno, it’s like i can’t hold it in anymore, and i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable cause when i look at you, i feel like you don’t like me in the slightest.”
“what?” you laughed, incredulous. i mean, you’d just had sex.
“you always call me ‘best mate’.”
“because you are my best mate!”
“yeah, i know, but…” he sighed. “you’re really pretty and really great. look at you – you’re gonna do amazing things, d'ya know what i mean?gonna have a degree, a great job doin' something important for society, travellin', meeting people, buyin' yourself everything you’ve always dreamed of… and me? i’m throwing it all away for a band that we don’t even know it’s gonna work out.”
the uncertainty in his words threw you off balance, as it stood in stark contrast to the confidence he usually exuded. “Liam, of course it’s going to work. you always say so.”
“i know that, and I believe it – it’s my greatest conviction – but let’s be realistic: what sort of plan is that? not the one I should have if i wanna be with a girl like you,” he replied, his eyes wandering over your figure, making your heart ache at the sadness in his voice. you wanted nothing more than to make him see how precious he was, how admirable you found it that he was dedicated to making his own dreams come true rather than settling for a mundane life.
“Liam—”
“i swear, i fuckin' swear i'm gonna make it,” he said, not giving you a chance to comfort him, now holding one of your hands to kiss your knuckles gently. “and when I’m up there, bathed in champagne and gold, it’ll all be yours too.”
that uncertainty vanished, replaced by a wave of confidence filling his words. for your part, all you could do was listen intently, melting in his presence.
“i’m going to cover you in diamonds so never again in your life will you have to worry about not having money. wanna buy a thousand of those purple rings you like? go ahead. ten houses? done. it’ll all be yours, everything.”
he enveloped you in a mist of love, as pure as the first breath of the morning. the thought that all this time Liam had adored you just as much as you adored him was overwhelming, and it truly made your heart leap in your chest.
a smile lit up your face. your index finger traced the bridge of his nose reverently, admiring its shape. there was nothing left to say or ask; there were no doubts left, and it was then that you allowed yourself to say what you’d held back for so long in his arms.
“i love you, Liam,” you murmured softly. Liam heard the sweetest of declarations of love. simple and as honest as the sparkle in your eyes illuminating his at that moment. he smiled, ready to put into words the realisation that had been keeping him restless for the past few weeks.
“i love you more.”
────୨ৎ────
g/n: omg it took me so long to finish this bc i was so lazy and its a bit awkward to me to write smut jakska so i didn’t even read it twice to check mistakes. first one was pretty good so i hope you like this one too. xoxo gali
Summary: You love it when Liam stays at your place
c/w: established relationship, a bit of sub!liam, handjobs, light praise kink, loverboy liam
Pairing: 90's!liam x reader
Word count: 1.4k
a/n: this is basically porn with very very little plot. need domestic liam BAD
Sunday mornings were made for doing a whole lotta nothing. It was your favorite part of the week. Partly because it was when you felt the most relaxed. But mostly because they usually consisted of Liam on your couch nursing a hangover.
And today was no different.
You’d been curled up half watching some old City match that Liam swore he’d been at when his head dropped heavily onto your shoulder. He was out cold, mouth slack, breathing slow and warm against your neck.
You could smell your shampoo in his hair, the expensive one that he promised not to use anymore but still nicked anyways. “I’ll just buy ya more babe, I’m loaded y’know?” was his usual defence. But secretly you liked that rock’s hardest frontman walked around smelling like florals and coconut.
Your hand dropped into his mop of hair and he shifted against you, turning further into your side like he was settling in properly. A small smile tugged at your lips as you played with the silky strands. Always so soft. You didn’t know how, with all the sweating that boy did.
Eventually your arm started to go numb. You carefully maneuvered him until his head rested against your chest instead. The rest of him followed, heavy and warm, slotting between your parted legs. You stayed like that, one hand still in his hair, until he began to stir.
His lashes fluttered open as he let out a yawn.
“Well hello sleepyhead,” you said softly, smiling at the droopiness of his eyes as he blinked up at you.
It took him a moment to properly wake up. Then a slow smirk crept across his face.
“Don’t make a bad pillow, these,” he mumbled, nuzzling deeper into your chest and deliberately squashing your tits.
You laughed under your breath, cupping his stubbled jaw. Your thumb brushed over the rough scratch of it and he leaned into the touch like a cat.
“You’re welcome by the way,” you teased.
“Best sleep of me life,” he said, voice still gravelly with sleep. “Proper well rested now.”
You smiled fondly as he settled back against your chest. For a moment everything was quiet, just the low hum of the football commentary in the background and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Your hand rested on his side, fingers absently tracing patterns over the thin fabric of his shirt.
You hooked your leg over his, drawing him even closer. Liam would never admit it, but secretly he loved cuddling. Every night he’d roll over and pull you tight against him, letting out that contented little sigh when you tucked your face into his chest. He was always sneaking up behind you in the kitchen too, chin on your shoulder, arms locked around your waist. You loved that about him. That deep down he was just a soft lad who wanted love just like the rest of you.
A sudden rush of affection hit you. Your hand snaked down the front of his sweats, cupping his length through the fabric.
Liam jolted. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, startled.
Then he melted back into you as you started palming him slowly. His hips twitched, chasing the friction. You smirked as he began to harden under your touch.
“Comfortable?” You asked, a teasing edge to your voice.
“Definitely,” he breathed, head tipping further back against your chest.
You huffed a small laugh and applied more pressure, relishing the shaky sigh that escaped him. He tried to twist around to face you, but you hooked your leg tighter, effectively pinning him there.
“Let me,” you whispered, fingers already tugging at the drawstring of his sweats.
He exhaled shakily and turned his head, those pale blue eyes locking onto yours. A small, dazed smile played on his lips. The one that always made your stomach flip. Like he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with you.
You couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss kim softly. He chased your mouth when you pulled back, hungry for more.
You watched as his eyes fluttered as your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his sweats. No underwear, of course. Typical Liam. He was already half hard, hot and silky against your palm. You wrapped your fingers around him and gave one slow, teasing stroke.
His mouth fell open, a low groan rumbling in his throat as his hips rolled up into your touch. You took your time, running the heel of your palm up and down his length, feeling him thicken and twitch under your attention. The heat of him, the weight, the way his skin slid so smoothly…
You paused near the head of his cock, rubbing slow, firm circles over the sensitive tip with your thumb.
“Christ,” he groaned, hips jerking up helplessly into your hand.
Your other hand slipped down to cup his balls, massaging them gently in time with your strokes. The combination pulled a broken moan from deep in his chest. He shivered hard, one hand flying down to grip your thigh like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Fuck…yes,” he rasped, voice wrecked as his hips started rolling in earnest, chasing the pleasure.
“So good Li,” you murmured, gently praising him.
He hummed out high and needy as he twitched against your palm, evidently liking it. It went straight between your legs.
You pulled one hand free and spat roughly into it. Liam shivered at the sound, like he was anticipating what you were about to do.
You wrapped both hands around his now rock hard length, slicking him up properly. He throbbed hot and heavy against your palms as you started stroking him in long, smooth glides, letting him feel every inch of the wet friction.
His face was flushed pink, eyes screwed up in pleasure. So good-looking. Always.
“Look so pretty like this,” you whispered, slowing your hands just to watch him squirm.
He turned his head, heavy lidded blue eyes finding yours.
“Prettiest boy I know,” you said, softer this time, watching as a lazy half smile tugged at his mouth.
You bent down and kissed him, tongue sliding into his mouth the moment your lips met. He opened for you with a deep groan, kissing you back greedily, tongue curling against yours as his hips kept stuttering into your fists.
Your hands moved again, twisting smoothly in tandem as you pumped him with long, steady strokes.
A deep moan tore from his chest, his lips parting as pleasure crashed through him. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting gently, and his body melted further into yours. His mouth eventually slipped from the kiss, head falling back as broken moans spilled from him with every twist of your wrists.
His eyes fluttered shut again, moans spilling from his mouth as you pushed him higher and higher with each stroke.
“That’s it just like that baby,” you coaxed, squeezing just a bit tighter.
“Fuck,” he stuttered, fingers digging hard into your thigh. His whole body started to tremble.
A thick bead of pre-cum slid from his tip to join the mess of spit that was making each stroke obscenely wet. His thighs tensed, muscles going tight as he teetered right on the edge.
He was completely gone. Head thrown back against your chest, neck bared, mouth open in a silent cry. You wished you could reach that sensitive spot just behind his jaw and bite it.
Then his back arched sharply off you, hips snapping forward as he came hard with a guttural groan. He fucked your fists in desperate, erratic thrusts, spilling hot and messy between your fingers in pulse after pulse.
You kept stroking him through it, slower now, milking every last drop as his body shuddered and gradually went slack.
“Christ,” he breathed, dazed and utterly spent.
You gave one last squeeze, coaxing out the very last drop from his tip as he winced softly.
“That was fucking amazing,” he rasped, tilting his head back to look up at you through heavy lashes.
“You’re just saying that so I’ll do it again,” you teased, reaching for a tissue to wipe his spunk from your hand.
“Promise?” he asked, giving you a big goofy grin when you turned your eyes on him.
You laughed fondly and shifted, pulling him tighter against you. You peppered kisses all over his flushed face—his forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth—while he hummed contentedly in your arms.
𓂅₊⊹ pairings: nineties!noel gallagher x fem!reader
𓂅₊⊹ summary: noel gallagher is in your opinion, the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's your boss, the chief, and the most famous english rock musician of the nineties. your massive crush on him leads to secret diary entries for your eyes only... until one night after a party, he finds them.
𓂅₊⊹ cw: long oneshot, very very fluffy it actually hurts, mild smut/allusions to smut, mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, office relationship, short vomit scene, suggestive implications, innuendos throughout, language, shy reader towards the beginning, slow burn
𓂅₊⊹ word count: 14,1k
°˖➴
six thirty.
the dreaded hour.
you lazily slam your hand onto your buzzing alarm clock, letting the piercing sound finally cease.
you groan once, running a hand down your face as you squint from the sunlight peeking through the silky curtains in your bedroom.
you trudge towards the bathroom, your feet dragging on the cold tile as you position yourself at the sink.
you look up at your reflection in the foggy mirror, your hair a crazy mess from sleep, deep eye bags, and chapped lips.
you sigh, let out a loud yawn, and then start the makeover process.
one. shower & shave.
two. brush your teeth & skincare.
three. journal.
it's stupid, really. your neverending, gigantic crush on your boss which never seems to end in the words, "it was just a phase."
every morning you'd enter something in your small, pink diary; the one with far too many dried up coffee and lipstick stains on each page.
you'd write about your day at the office, your day as his employee, and if you were lucky, what he said if he noticed you.
noel gallagher is the one and only mr. right for you. he's perfect, polished, talented, and...well maybe polished is the part you had done up in your head. he's loud. annoyed very easily; and always complaining. whenever he sees you, he never remembers your name, so he'll call you "birdie".
this morning's entry is all about your interaction with him yesterday.
and it all went like this.
you sip your coffee at your desk, spinning around in your cushioned office chair. a pile of papers for oasis's upcoming tour sits in front of your face, and you dread opening it. noel had probably marked new additions to the tour that you had already completed, and now you'd have to re-do it all over again. your job: review contracts, submit tour requests by each band member and report approval of each request that was confirmed.
"y/n." matt, your (favorite) coworker slams his hands on your desk, jolting you to life. you're mid sip, so startled that hot coffee splatters all over your new white blouse.
"shit!" you gasp, gently sucking your thumb that burns with the spill of hot coffee.
"whoops." matt sucks his teeth shortly before handing you a tissue.
"thanks." you mutter while snatching the tissue, blotching as much of the brown coffee stains as you could off your pretty blouse.
"didn't mean to scare ya, but james needs you in room six."
"what for?" you toss the tissue into the garbage can, placing the coffee cup down on your desk.
"noel. he wants to review the contracts you were given to review yesterday." matt says while adjusting his ugly blue tie. you won't tell him you hate it because he's your best friend, but it's the most hideous tie you've ever laid eyes on. the tiny vibrant dolphins on the fabric could get him fired if you were in charge of the office.
your eyes widen, trying to focus on his statement rather than the Ugly Dolphin Tie.
"uhhhmmmm..." you start, trying to remember if you even packed those contracts. you didn't know they were due today.
matt squints his eyes, eager for your answer.
"here we go." you bite your lip, pulling out about one hundred thin files you reviewed last night.
you were up till midnight with the papers in front of you, watching "pretty woman" and painting your toenails a sexy red color that noel will never see, considering you wear black ballet flats to the office every day.
"good. room six, remember? mr. gallagher isn't a very patient man," matt sings as he hurries back towards his desk.
you shoot him an "i'm aware," before stacking the papers into your arms and moving down the hall towards room six.
you stand in front of the large glass door, looking inside to see an angry noel sat at the long conference table. he's shaking his head, clearly disappointed by something. maybe it has to do with the misconception with the roadie. he quit for 'blur' last minute.
you take a deep breath while trying to keep your heart on a leash in your chest. it's about to jump out at just the sight of his cloudy blue eyes.
noel lifts his head, his eyes scanning past the glass doors and landing on you. your heart goes feral as warmth rises to your face, your cheeks flaming red.
his eyes trail down to your shirt, and for a second your brain thinks he's finally catching how amazing your sense of style is...or maybe he's shamelessly eyeing your tits. you look down like the weirdo you are, but for once, you're glad you did.
the fuckass coffee stain.
which now makes one section of your blouse see-through, your maroon colored bra you just bought peeking through your shirt.
noel tried his best to hide a laugh.
seriously, matt?
one of your bosses follows noel's gaze, pointing at you through the glass. you are officially embarrassed. "there she is!" you hear someone say muffled, reaching for the door.
the glass door flew open, and your face is as red as the bold lipstick shade that's lying in your purse underneath your desk.
"hi." you greet the room with a loud sigh, without making eye contact, setting the stack of papers down on the large table.
noel's eyes don't leave yours for a second. he's waiting for a proper "hello" from you.
your eyes slowly advance from the expensive glass table with cursed coffee mugs on it to noel sitting at the head of the table.
a smirk teases his lips and his fingers scratch lightly against his stubble. he's watching your every movement, the way he's leaning back in his office chair like he owns the place. well, y'know maybe he does. he's the rockstar. he's the whole reason for your company.
you clear your throat, trying to distract yourself from the incredibly gorgeous-without-any-effort type of man that sits across from you.
"mr. gallagher." you say a little firmer this time.
his eyes widen at the way you choose to address him. "morning." he greets you back with a tiny smile, clearly amused by your entrance.
"matt said something about contracts?" you avert your eyes while placing a strand of hair behind your ear.
your eyes try to focus on anything other than noel. you try the coffee pot. it makes you even more angry. maybe the man next to you? okay, he has a weird staring problem. back to noel it is.
"mhm." he takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes not leaving yours.
you can't help it. your eyes fall to his lips shamelessly. you curse yourself for it.
he clears his throat which drew your attention back to his face.
"good coffee, hm?" he said while leaning back in his chair, then nodded towards your stained blouse.
your cheeks flamed even hotter. you needed to get out of there.
"clumsy me." you muttered with a tiny shrug.
"your name is?" noel asked quickly while reaching for a contract at your end of the table.
the tiny patch of chest hair that peeks out of his shirt as he reaches over has you captivated for a split second before you remind yourself to stay focused.
you gulp as you told him your name.
he repeats it once, and then he reaches for a pen next to him. noel pops open the cap with his teeth, then signs his name at the end of the contract with black ink.
"send this out for me, will ya birdie?" he asks politely as he capped the pen.
your mouth goes dry as you nod slowly. yep. he forgot. like always. but you didn't care.
"mhm." you squeak out, taking his paper and tucking it under your arm.
you head towards the doors as quickly as possible.
"oh, and" he calls you back with a finger pointed in the air.
your head swivels around to look at noel, your fingers tightening on the glass doors with every second that passes.
"i've always liked the color maroon." he says while leaning back in his chair.
your expression drops as your face goes as white as the creamer the barista pumped into your coffee this morning.
you stare for a while, his words replaying in your head one million times over. did he really just say that? is it all in your head? it's confirmed once he tilts his head and widens his eyes, even more amused by your surprised expression.
you head for the door, making sure you hear it click before letting out a massive sigh. "holy fuck" you breathe out as you pull stray hairs back and straighten your browned blouse.
you turn around once more, not expecting to catch noel's eyes still on you. your heart leaps in your chest as his lips bend into a dangerous smirk.
your breath hitches, and you turn your head as quickly as possible, hoping he didn't notice how pink and stupid your face turned. you dash down the hallway, far away from room six.
°˖➴
and now here you are, every morning you sit with your diary, entering your thoughts and experiences with noel gallagher into your little pink notebook.
you sit in your bed, kicking your legs against your wooden headboard as the black ink glides across your loose leaf page. you wrote about an interaction each day you had one. and this one had to be the most embarrassing, yet your favorite. no matter how hot you felt your face get, he had spoken to you. maybe you were a little delusional, but at least you were able to speak back. and he had commented on your bra.
your cheeks got hot just remembering his face when he said it. the way he tilted his head. the way he smiled. the way his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t even identify; you were so lost in him.
you're going mad. and you pray to God he would just get your name right. you write about the coffee, about your stupid loss for words, about the bra, about his radiant smile.
you stand in front of your closet for at least ten minutes deciding on a blouse that's dark enough and coffeestain-proof. you are not going to unintentionally tease noel gallagher again. it's far too embarrassing.
dark blue blouse. long sleeve. perfect.
black skirt? no, it looks like you were attending a funeral or a really depressing goth wedding.
you settle on a white blouse after praying you'll be careful and stay away from coffee today. the black skirt goes well with the white blouse. you pair the outfit with some ruffle socks and your signature black ballet flats. right when you are about to leave, you notice small paint chips at the edges of your flats. you frown, grabbing a black marker and filling in the chipped spots until you can buy new ones this weekend.
you head out the door around seven thirty. you had made sure you looked nice, your lips covered in strawberry lip balm and your hair is slicked back with fine gel so you won't have your hands fiddling with loose strands during the day.
inside your brown purse lay your water bottle, a pair of sneakers to change out of just in case your feet get cut on the back of your flats, extra hair ties, pens, and your diary. you don't know why, but you carry it everywhere. on your lunch break you'll journal at the nearest park and will plan your weekends on the back of the notebook- because yes, the other half is an organized planner and you are running out of diary space.
“morning, matt” you pat his desk as he gives you a tiny wave and then mouths to you, “im on a meeting”
you suck your teeth before gesturing with your hands that your mouth is zipped. then, you scurry over to your desk and take out all your belongings, setting up your computer and checking your mailbox for any new information you had to review for oasis’s upcoming tour.
one letter from miriam lays in your mailbox. you squint and turn the letter over, ripping open its envelope. inside are details for a celebration for the release of “be here now”.
it reads,
hey! i couldn’t type this online or else i would risk the whole company seeing this. dropping this in your box because i just got word of a release party! please please please wear something sexy! i know how you can be, but please risk it all and trash those ballet flats. y’know, i saw them chipping at the edges yesterday.
you look down at the chipped spot that is now covered with a small frown.
anyway, i heard there’s gonna be drinks and karaoke. and the hot one never comes to these things, but i heard he is! gonna shoot my shot with liam if you know what i mean -miriam
P.S. its tomorrow night :)
you chuckle at the last section. miriam has a massive crush on liam. she isn't your best friend, but you know her from around the office. she is the queen of gossip and is always making an excuse to send you some sneaky notes in your mailbox that are totally classified as "along the lines of getting fired" just by the way she writes to you about liam. it’s a good thing she doesn't know you have eyes for noel, she’d go and tell the whole office.
but tomorrow night? how are you gonna show up to a fancy release party? you only have one nice dress in your closet which probably isn't even release-party-appropriate. (the only time you wore it was to a wedding).
"matt." your hands land on his desk, and he gazes up at you with suspicious eyes.
"you never come to my desk during work hours. what's the emergency?" he asks, his tone careful.
you squint. are you a bad friend? whatever. not right now.
"do you have any good...shopping places?" you scratch your forehead nervously.
"sit down, hon." he pats the office chair next to him, and you scoot closer to him on the gray carpet.
"i need a dress for the release party." you admit, your voice going quiet.
"damn, shit spreads fast. i only heard about it this morning." matt shakes his head.
"i know!- wait, did miriam send you a note too?" you exclaim.
people around the office turn their heads at your excitement, clearly annoyed by your loud voice. you smack a palm against your mouth, sinking deeper into the office chair.
"no..." matt says cautiously with a chuckle. "charlie told me."
you nod in understanding.
"miriam's allowed to send you notes?" his eyebrow perks up.
"uhhh...no." you avoid his gaze and start picking at a tiny hole in your tights that will eventually get bigger the more you touch it.
he laughs and then shakes his head. "so, you need a dress."
you nod once.
"from a....shopping place?" he smiles at your choice of words.
you sigh deeply. "i don't know, like the mall or sumthin'?"
he stares at you blankly. "hon." he starts suspiciously.
you scoot even closer, ready to listen to your fashion icon. if anyone can help you, it's matt. he used to study fashion but dropped out cause his company didn't pay as well as other companies outside of london. he loves to say he's still working with "the arts of fashion" even though he is managing the most famous and most chaotic band of your time.
"do you still buy your clothes at the mall?" he asks while reaching for your hand.
"no! it was just a suggestion." you shake your head quickly.
you totally still buy your clothes at the mall.
"okay, well we need to get you something nice from the fancy stores on the boardwalk."
your lips part. "that's expensive."
"yup." he nods enthusiastically. "but they have super nice stuff."
you listen carefully as he feeds you highly important fashion information.
"try tessa's."
you nod your head and repeat the name on your lips a few times.
"mhm." he nods slowly. "got it?"
"i got it." you give him a smile, and then you thank him for his help.
instead of returning to your desk, you pop by miriam's cubicle. hers is fancier than yours; she has a door. no fair.
you knock once on the glass door, and she jumps in her seat. she's eating her lunch, which is odd considering it's eight in the morning. you can hear her muffled behind the door, but she waves you inside and says "come in!" enthusiastically.
you step inside with a kind smile, closing the door behind you.
it didn't even properly click shut before she asks, "did ya get my note?" with wide eyes as she wipes her mouth with a white napkin and places it down next to her cesar salad.
"uh, yeah." you adjust your skirt and approach her desk.
"i need your advice," you begin quietly. then you clear your throat. if you're gonna ask her this, you have to be confident about it. "on like..." you scratched your neck. "what to wear?" you cringe at the words.
she squints. "m'kay," she closes her plastic salad box and clasps her hands together in her lap. "for the party?"
"yeah. but like, not a dress." you clarify, fiddling with your fingers behind your back.
she nods slowly.
"and like, i have a dress shop already, so yeah. that's why i...said that." you chuckle nervously, not even making proper sense anymore.
"uhm, so it's not shoes, cause you said they were chippin' and i gotta get new ones, but-"
"you want me to help you buy lingerie?" miriam blinks.
busted.
fuck. how'd she know?
"what? why would you- no." your cheeks grow pink.
you can never ask matt for that.
"you know i'm gonna tell you to go 'the chateau' for that." miriam licks her finger once and flips open a notebook page, ripping out one piece and writing down the address of the store.
you take it, and then examine the address. it's one block away from 'tessa's.'
"thanks," you say shyly, tucking the paper into the pocket of your cardigan.
you try to slip outside, but she stops you.
"why do you need lingerie for the release party?"
you freeze, your back to her. you close your eyes and mutter a curse under your breath.
"uhh," you turn around with a fake smile, fiddling with your hands.
"just cause?" you admit cautiously.
"okay," she hums, spinning around in her chair and flicking her short brown curls behind her shoulder. "you don't want to impress anyone?" she shimmies her shoulders playfully.
you nearly wince at the action she just did. and you will never open your mouth about your crush on noel.
"nope. i just ran out." you say confidently with a clearing of your throat.
"you ran out of lingerie? Jesus, how many did'ya have?" she says with a loud chuckle.
great, now she thinks you're a stripper outside of the office.
"not a lot, that's why..." you stop yourself, not wanting to get caught in more lies. "anyway, it's not for the party, I just happen to run out around the party's date." you chuckle nervously again.
what the fuck were you even saying?
her eyebrows lift with a slow nod. "ah."
wait- didn't you tell her its for the party? whatever- focus.
"uhh, i gotta run. thanks for that." you give her a small wave, slipping out of her cubicle before she can ask you any more follow up questions.
°˖➴
you have your earbuds in, pink floyd's "the wall" playing as you departed the bus. your black boots hit the wood of the boardwalk, and you remove your sunglasses, looking up at 'tessa's' dress shop. you take in a deep breath, removing one earbud and pulling the door open.
a jingle sings above your head, and all heads turn to you in the store. a woman greets you hello, and you smile back with a small wave. you travel around the store, utterly confused about what you're looking for. what type of dress is suitable for a release party?
then, someone taps your shoulder. it shakes you to life, and you drop the expensive leather dress between your fingers. you turn around, removing the other earbud and giving the woman in front of you a smile.
"hi. do you need help with anything?" she asks with a creepily large grin.
you smile back and consider her question before denying her like you would in any other store where the staff is overly bothersome.
"yeah, actually." you titter lightly.
"what can i help you with?" she clasps her hands in front of her stylish brown belt and dress pants, looking like she just walked out of a political magazine.
"I need a dress for a release party, but I'm not sure which is suitable for the event." you explain to her.
she taps her chin. "you'd want to be looking at cocktail dresses, darling."
she guides you to the back of the store where a beautiful rack of cocktail dresses lay, all shiny and silky and waiting to be bought.
matt was right. this place is expensive but has very beautiful varieties of fabrics.
you try on three, and the same woman who helped you to the back of the store waits for you to try on each one. she says they normally don't have lots of customers because of the weighted prices, and usually richer tourists arrive on the weekends- not on random thursdays after work.
"i love that one." she claps her hands as you step out past the curtain in the dressing room.
you blush, running your hands down the lacy black fabric.
"marjorie, come look at her!" the woman who you now know her name is tessa, the owner of the store yells.
marjorie erupts from behind the counter and her eyes widen.
"oh, that's the one." she points her finger up and down at your figure.
"you have nice hips, i must say." she nods eagerly.
"thank you," you giggle.
"what about the white one, though?" you point back at a silky white dress that comes with a matching neck scarf hanging on a gold hook.
"i think this one is sexier. more bold." tessa points out with a tilt of her head.
"i agree." marjorie states.
tessa lifts off the cushion and walks over to you in the middle of the dressing room, adjusting the dress at your waist.
"i like the tight fit near the waist, don't you think?" she asks you with a safety pin secured between her teeth.
you nod your head.
"there. all done." she smiles, tapping your shoulder so you can look in the long mirror behind you. you turn around, absolutely astonished by the sight in front of you.
"whoa." you breathe out, eyeing the material and the way it grabs your waist so perfectly.
"that's the one." tessa whispers while squeezing your shoulder.
you laugh and nod your head.
°˖➴
after that purchase, you know you can't spend like that for a while, but you almost never treat yourself. it feels good. next stop, 'the chateau'. you hope there are nice ladies in that store that can help you find things.
you walk inside, the light pink walls and black polka dots all around the store are almost blinding you. you haven't been in one of these in a while, considering you do online shopping and find nice underwear in the catalogs you were sent.
your earbuds are back in, the song "young lust" blasting loudly in your ears.
you can't hear, but one woman waves to you and mouths the words, "good afternoon" and you just nod with a smile. you travel deeper into the store, looking for the lingerie section. hell, the whole store is full of lingerie but you really just need tinier panties and a suitable bra.
you find the tinier-panties-section and your eyes widen at each one. how the fuck is that called underwear? you shake off the thought and pick up another one with a chuckle.
you have always lived in a shadow at work. the only two people who know you are matt, because he's your best friend, and miriam because she knows everyone and as much as everyone's business as she can. not even noel can remember your name for christ's sake-
a tap on your shoulder.
it's probably just a worker.
you're holding a pair of lacy black panties as you turn around to address the worker.
your eyes trail up to the person in front of you, until they widen a large amount and your cheeks flush hot.
noel???
definitely not a worker!!
he's smiling down at you, his hands are jammed in the pockets of his denim jeans. his eyes dart down to the panties in your hand, and you immediately close your eyes in embarrassment.
"hey, birdie." he greets you, tilting his head, trying to get your eyes to meet his again.
"hi mr. gallagher." your voice is small.
"whatcha buyin' there?" he asks, nodding towards the lace bunch in your hands.
"nothing." you throw it back into the pile behind you.
shit. shit. shit.
he chuckles, and then for the tiniest second his eyes drag down to your lips. "uhh...what are you doing here?" you clear your throat.
he huffs a laugh. "girlfriend. wants sumthin from the new collection?" he looks just as puzzled as you in the store.
"oh." you nod, trying your best not to act weird around him. it needs to end right now. where's the nearest exit?-
"what about you?" he asks.
your face freezes and your palms start to sweat uncontrollably.
"just...shopping." you manage to say.
he smiles. "right. sorry."
"no, it's fine." you rub your head in embarrassment.
"I just saw you and thought I might say hi. you're from the office."
you nod your head with a tightlipped smile.
"the coffee spill." he points out with a wave of his finger around your torso.
you chuckle once. "yep."
"what were you listening to?" he points to your earbuds.
"oh," you chuckle twisting the wire between your fingers. "pink floyd."
his eyes widen. "really? which album?"
"the wall." you tell him.
"i love that album."
"really?"
he nods his head once. then says, "fuck, i had your name on the tip of my tongue..."
you tell him again, and he nods slowly. "yep. i remember you."
you try to look around at anything but him, but he won't stop looking at you. his gaze is too intense, you don't want to be rude. your eyes always find their way back to his.
"we're havin a release party tomorrow night." he tells you.
"are you?" you act oblivious to the fact that oasis is going to throw a massive party for their new album just before the tour.
"yeah. the whole crew is invited. you should stop by."
you're here buying lingerie for the party. but he doesn't have to know that.
you smile at him. "i will."
"great. see ya." he turns around, ready to walk away.
"i'll see you at the office, mr. gallagher." you say.
he stops in his tracks, a smirk on his face. "you know you can just call me noel, right?" he says.
your eyes widen. "oh-"
"im around your age- s'bit weird, don't cha think?"
you stay quiet.
"makes me sound like some old grump." he chuckles.
"bye, noel." you mutter, returning to your underwear hunt behind you.
°˖➴
you take off from work today so that you could buy a new pair of ballet flats and get ready for the release party. it's silly, but you haven't taken a day off since last year.
you meet everyone at the office at six pm, and you spot matt talking to charlie at his desk. as soon as he looks up at you, matt's jaw drops to the floor. charlie whips his head around, his jaw open as well. you blush, setting your purse down at your desk and walking over to matt's.
"thank you." you give matt a tight hug.
"tessa does the trick. did you see her?"
"yep. she helped me with this one." you twirl around in your black dress, letting matt clap for you and charlie laughing as he does so.
you never did dress up. but you need mr. right to notice you. it's so out of character for you; maybe because he's already seen your bra and watched you shop for underwear. you can't tell anyone- it would be so embarrassing. maybe if you just take care of yourself and make more of an effort to look beautiful, maybe he'd remember your name.
but you heard him in the store. he has a girlfriend. he was buying her a scrap of fabric from a new lingerie collection you had no idea about.
the phone rings, and matt picks it up as soon as possible.
"hellooo?" he spins around in his chair.
you watch him nod as he replies, and then hangs up.
"the printer room has contracts ready that you need to review for noel." matt tells you.
your heart almost jumps out of your chest again just at the mention of his name. as long as you aren't going to room six, everything should be fine.
"alright. will he be there?" you breathe out, swiping stray hairs that have fallen from your bun out of the way.
matt and charlie's eyebrows perk up. "i'm not sure...why?" they look at each other, then back at you.
you freeze. "I meant- I don't wanna go talk to the chief looking like a dumpster diver, right?" you chuckle anxiously.
their mouths drop. "holy shit," matt sings.
you roll your eyes.
"you fancy the chief?" charlie asks with a playful gasp.
"so that's why you asked miriam about lingerie yesterday." matt snaps his fingers.
your expression drops. "how do you know about that?" you nearly shout.
"you should know by now to never tell miriam anything."
"true." you sigh.
that bitch.
"don't stress. you look good." matt reassures you.
"thanks."
"do you want me to check where he is?"
"yes." you don't need to hesitate.
running in to noel with a sexy black dress is not on your bucket list.
"he's supposed to be in a tour meeting in room four right now."
"great."
you walk down the hallway towards the printer room, pushing the door open without thinking.
you gasp at the sight in front of you, not expecting a very sweaty vision of liam and patsy eating each other's faces off in the printer room. his hand squeezes her waist and her hands are buried in his chest. it's dark in there, so they must have noticed the bright light that shone on them once you cracked open the door.
her blonde hair stands out in the light, and she whips her head around to see you in the doorway.
your lips part. "shit, sorry-" you click the door shut, your chest heaving.
you should just quit your job at this point.
you smack your palm against your head. "fuckin stupid-"
"y/n?"
"what?" you snap.
they didn't answer. your eyes fly open, only to be met with noel's face again.
"Jesus- fuck," you shake your head quickly.
"did i startle you?"
"no, its not you-" you stutter, trying to find the words.
his brows lift.
you take a deep breath before you spill out and make no sense.
"your brother's snogging some blonde bird in there," you gesture towards the printer room, waving your fingers around lazily.
"sorry about him." noel shakes his head.
"its fine." you sigh. "sorry. shouldn't you be in a meeting?"
he squints. "how'd you know?"
"matt checked your schedule."
"you stalking me now, birdie?"
you chuckle. "i thought you knew my name."
"i do." he steps closer to you.
your breath hitches, and he notices.
"you all dolled up for the party?" noel asks.
"yeah." you place your hands out at your sides, revealing your dress.
his eyes drag up your figure, and then his cheeks go pink. "i like your dress."
you smile. "thanks, noel."
your dress is black, the hem ending mid-ankle. the top is a beautifully constructed black corset with lace lining the edges, along with tiny black straps that hang on your shoulders. you're wearing your signature black ballet flats, (of course). heels would kill you for sure.
he turns around to get back to the meeting down the hall, but then snaps his fingers and spins his head around. "you got the contracts I sent you, yeah?"
you nod your head. "they're uh, in the printer room."
he giggles. "gotcha."
°˖➴
the release party is loud.
the venue is so big, the DJ in the corner near the bar, a pool of people sticking to each other.
"the fuck is this, then?" you hear noel yelling at your boss james.
"noel, just listen to me-" your head boss fights back.
you sip your martini carefully in the corner, watching the way noel's lips move as he argues. he's sweating, the buttons on his shirt flying open at the top.
you look over at his girlfriend; meg, you remember miriam told you her name once. she's laughing with liam and patsy, a cig between her fingers. she's just perfect. wearing a beautiful leopard dress and her striking blonde hair; her smile lighting up the whole room with a smoke ring around her head.
your eyes move back to noel, and you bite on your straw without even realizing. his eyes find yours through the crowd, and your chest heaves. your fingers grip the cold glass as you sip your drink.
before you know it, you're in a staring contest with noel gallagher and your drink has finished; the empty slurping noises filling your ears over the loud music.
your eyes don't leave his as you glide over to the bar, leaning on the counter and asking for another martini.
a few minutes passes, and now you're on your third martini. your vision blurs, but isn't that the point? you have to let go. you take a drag from the cig that's between your red manicured nails.
someone lands next to you at the bar. and you don't know if your senses are extra hyper now that you're dazed, but you know exactly who it is. he's sneaked up on you way too many times.
you smell his cologne from behind you, and you want to drink in that scent.
"noel." you greet him as he grabs the cig that lies between your fingers, taking a long drag.
you turn your head and rest your chin in your hands as you look at the man that stands next to you. the previous wave of anger still lingers on his face.
"why the clenched jaw?" you ask, waving a lazy finger in his face.
he looks at you, your eyes blown wide and your face slightly pouted. you are definitely drunk.
"that fucker is supposed to be managing me," he points at james, both you and his head boss. "but he has no idea what the fuck he's making me look like," noel shakes his head.
"what'd ya mean?" you ask with an unhurried blink of your eyes.
"i never asked for a fucking DJ. and he's playing stupid pop hits. seriously- who in their right mind plays the spice girls at an oasis release party?"
you laugh loudly at that.
apparently your laugh is contagious, because his lips curl into a smile before he breaks into a chuckle. then he shakes his head.
once you start, you can't stop. and you were fully blaming the alcohol for that. you covered your mouth as you laughed.
"whats so funny?"
"you."
his eyes widen. he isn't expecting that. "me?"
you nod. "yes. when you're angry." you take another sip of your martini.
"right." he nods slowly. "how many of those have you had?"
you shrug once. "two," you trace the wet rim of the glass with a red lipstick mark on it. "maybe three?"
"okay, that's your last one." he points at your half full glass.
you frown. "what? says who?"
"says me." he takes the last drag of your cig, dabbing it into the ash tray.
"you aren't the boss of me." you pout.
"actually, i am." he says with a wink.
oh, yeah. how could you forget that?
your eyes flicker and drop to his lips. you think about how soft they are. but you have to stop yourself.
he chuckles, following your gaze. too late. he's noticed.
you bite your lip and drop your head, trying to shake off the thought of his lips on yours.
"are you alright?" he asks, your head tipping to meet his eyes again.
you nod slowly, your teeth still sinking into your bottom lip as you scoop your hair out of your face.
you looked nothing like you did when you arrived at the office at six. your pack is now missing three cigs, you're drunk on mysterious orange martinis, and your hair tie broke so now your hair is a loose mess in your face. the humidity in the crowded room is not helping your case, by the way.
"would you like another?" the bartender shouts over the music, a towel hanging off his shoulder.
you smile at him, and then look back at noel.
"she's fine." noel puts his hand up.
"actually," you cut in with an extended finger.
"one more would be great." you wink at the bartender while licking your lips.
it's like he forgot noel existed, his statement going out the window. the bartender nods, returning to the drinks behind the counter.
noel scoffs, shaking his head slowly.
you widen your eyes at his expression. "what?" you ask innocently with a little shrug.
"i'm thirsty." you say as you pick up the maraschino cherry in your empty glass and bite it off the stem with a sharp pop.
he watches your mouth, the way you effortlessly bite it and drop the stem back into the glass.
you had unintentionally started another staring contest with noel gallagher. and this time, you didn't shy away. you're far too dazed to even care about your appearance.
you openly laugh, your cheeks don't flame each time he speaks a word to you, your hair is really, really frizzy. and- you don't care.
"if you're thirsty, you should be drinking water." he proposes, waving over the bartender for a bottle.
"no! noellllll," you groan, your head dropping to the cold, grimey counter.
he thanks the bartender who also slid your fourth martini across the counter to you. noel taps some blonde bird and offers her the martini with a kind smile. she laughs, smacks his shoulder once, and then travels deeper into the crowd.
he's grateful you don't see.
"drink." he slides you the cold bottle.
you frown. "where's my martini?"
"guess he forgot. drink." he nods towards the water bottle.
hm. that's weird. you thought your flirting skills were pretty good.
you crack open the cap with a small pop and down the whole bottle in seconds.
"damn, birdie. I didn't have to force you." he pats your back as you swallow the water.
"I told you I was thirsty."
°˖➴
it's midnight. you're dancing in the middle of the venue with hundreds of people surrounding you. you lost matt and forgot where noel told you he'd be when he said, "I'll be right back, don't move"
when you grabbed his arm to ask him where he was going, he told you, and you nodded even though the fact disappeared the second it had entered your brain.
someone taps your shoulder. it's rough. it's rushed.
you turn around with a sweaty grin on your face, your hair sticking to your face.
it's noel. a glare is plastered to his face.
your grin falters at his expression. he's clearly upset. at you?
"what the fuck are you doing?" he asks sharply.
your eyes flicker. "dancing?" you say it like it's obvious.
"i told you to stay put."
you squint at him. "no you didn't"
he shakes his head. "yes i did." he argues.
"i don't remember." you admitted.
he looks at you. hard. "did you have another martini?" he searches your wide eyes, clearly drunken.
you felt like a kid caught stealing candy from a candy store.
"no."
"no?" he lifts a brow.
"no."
you obviously had another martini.
his hands are on his hips as he looks down at your lips, trying to keep himself together. he wouldn't lose it on you. but he knew you were fragile. anybody could take advantage of you. he didn't know why he was so attached to you- or why he couldn't stop thinking about the shy girl from the office.
"let's go." he says.
"go where?" you ask.
"i'm taking you home."
your head jerks back. "no you aren't."
"yes i am."
you frown. "i'm not ready to go home."
he sighs, clearly exhausted by your questions. "come on, love. you're wasted." he reaches for your forearm, dragging you towards the door of the party room.
"noel, wait-" you adjust the falling strap of your purse, nearly tripping over your feet as he guided you out the doors.
the cool london air hits your back, sending a shiver up your spine.
"you cold, birdie?" noel asks, his hands already on the hem of his jacket.
you nod once, rubbing up your arms in a soothing motion. he drapes the fabric of his suit jacket around you, and you inhale the scent shamelessly.
he adjusts it tightly around you, helping you button it. the navy blue shoulder pad hit your cheek as you turn to look at him with wide eyes.
"where's your place?" he asks with a sigh.
"i can't go back yet." you say simply.
his expression flickers with exhaustion. "why not?"
"cause i left all my stuff at the office."
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his forehead.
the office was forty-five minutes away from the venue.
"alright, I'm calling a cab." he dials the buttons on his flip phone, and you zone out as you hear him speak to the cab company on the phone.
°˖➴
the cab arrives around a few minutes later, and noel guides you into the vehicle. you're a stumbling mess, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder beneath his oversized suit jacket.
you sit in the car with noel for forty five minutes, and it's full of silence. but weirdly, not an awkward silence. a comfortable one.
you drift off to sleep, your head falling onto his shoulder once you've gotten on the highway, and his expression softens as he adjusts your head on his chest for more comfort.
you and noel arrive at the office around ten to one, and you stumble towards the lift.
you sink back against the metal doors, forgetting to hold onto the railing as noel presses the button for the eighth floor and the doors come to a close.
the lobby music ceases as the doors close and he second the lift moves, you trip over your feet, blindly searching for something to hold.
noel grabs onto you quickly, holding you up. "you alright?"
you nod once quickly. no, you were not alright. you hadn't even heard him; ever since the cab ride you would nod at everything he said regardless if you heard. and you were glad he hadn't noticed yet.
"hold on to the railing." he tells you and then lets go of your arm.
the lift climbs higher and he's standing an appropriate distance from you. the lift finally jolts in place as it arrives on the eighth floor, and you stumble over your feet again and fall flat on your face.
"shit!" noel's eyes widen and he rushes over to you, making an effort to pull you up by your biceps.
you groan, rubbing your tired eyes, refusing to move.
"didn't i tell you to hold the railing?" he stands above you.
you obliviously nod again.
he sighs. "come on, love. get up."
"i'm fine here." you slur your words.
"fucking hell, would you please get up?" his tone is sharper now.
you don't respond, just yawn from your spot on the carpeted floors of the lift.
he huffs once and then grabs your forearms and forces you off the floor.
he guides you out of the lift, the hard grip of his fingers on your arm is pinching you.
you groan, trying to push him off of you. "i can do it myself" you mumble.
he stands there helpless as you nearly fall on your face again, holding onto the nearest cubicle like a lifeline.
he sighs, shakes his head, and then catches up with you.
you finally reach your desk, slamming your hands against the glass. you bend down to find your things under your desk.
noel accidentally lets his gaze wander, his eyes finding the open hole in your tights that you picked at, near the top of your thigh. his cheeks burn hot and he looks away quickly.
"gotcha." you mutter to yourself under your breath as you slam your black work bag on your desk. things fly out of your bag, spilling onto your desk and onto the floor of the office.
"shit," you mutter, trying to gather your things.
he comes up behind you. "do you need help?"
you roll your eyes. "no. i thought i told you i could do it myself."
he huffs a laugh. "alright then."
the red apple that was once in your bag rolls around on the floor, along with your diary and a black pen, open to a previous entry. it catches his eye, he tries to read it, but his eyes blur as you slam your hand against his chest for support, the other hand plastered on your desk.
once you think you can stay balanced, you sigh, removing your grip on his chest.
"can you stand?"
you nod in response.
"i have to pee." you run a hand through your hair with a sharp sigh.
once you trudge towards the bathroom and unintentionally slam the bathroom door, noel bends down to pick up your fallen items.
he throws the apple in the air and juggles it once, then places it back into your bag. he collects each writing utensil and puts it back. his eyes finally land on the pink diary in the corner near the leg of your office chair.
he was going to close it and replace it like all the other items, but something catches his eye.
his name. in your diary. in fancy cursive, all pretty and perfect.
noel squints, reaching for the diary and letting it settle between his fingers. he doesn’t know what to feel. happy? disturbed? no, he’s just intrigued.
his eyes scan the page before properly reading all of your entries. he flips back to your first one with a small chuckle.
1/9/97
dear diary, I think I've fallen in love. and I'm not exaggerating when I say my heart stuttered when I laid eyes on noel gallagher. everything about him is perfect. my favorite feature is his smile. because even though he is a grump most of the time, I watched him smile today and it was the most beautiful smile i've ever seen. I wish he would do it more often. christ, his smile wasn't even meant for me and i felt it just as deep. I can't explain how he makes me feel, but it's contagious. whenever I caught him smiling, I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't. i've watched him before, but not like the last few days. something sparked inside me, and now I cant stop thinking about him. maybe one day we'll get to know each other. maybe one day his smile will be meant for me.
he smiles just like you had described. then flips to the most recent page. yesterday morning.
8/20/97
dear diary, I've never been more embarrassed in my life. noel gallagher had seen my bra. he'd looked at the color, made a comment, and then shot me the most dangerous smile. and it wasn't like all the other times. he didn't remember my name again, but he repeated it on his lips. my name on his lips did something horrible to my heart. I swear I'm going mad and he'll never be aware of it. I'm just the girl who spilled coffee on her blouse and accidentally flashed noel gallagher. and maybe that's all i'll ever be to him.
his expression softens at the most recent one, but something in his heart flickers. sadness, maybe?
all of a sudden, the door to the bathroom opens with a loud click. he hesitates, slamming your diary so quickly it flings out of his hands and falls back onto the floor.
"shit." he mutters, scrambling for the diary, unable to find it.
you're standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a few feet away from noel, your head resting back against the wall with a small thud.
"alright?" he asks nervously with a tightlipped smile, trying to brush off whatever he saw a few moments ago.
you nod slowly. "yeah."
"good. ready to head home?" he gathers the rest of your fallen belongings on your desk and throws it into your black bag, darting his head under each desk to look for the diary.
you don't answer. he furrows his brows, zips up your bag, and then walks over to you near the bathroom.
"what's wrong?" he scans your face.
your face is pale and your expression goes serious. "noel." you whisper a warning.
"what, love?" he searches your expression curiously.
"i..." you start, trying not to choke.
he drops your bag on the nearest desk, forgetting about the diary, moving closer to you.
"i think I'm gonna be sick." you gag.
"shit." he guides you backwards into the bathroom, forcing the light on.
you groan loudly, falling to your knees over the toilet as you wretch all of your martinis.
he holds your hair away from your face, letting you spill into the toilet. your hands grip the bottom of the porcelain toilet, barfing your guts out in that very office, past midnight, with noel gallagher behind you.
"let it out, birdie." he pats your back with his free hand.
after a few minutes, you sink back against the tile wall. he grabs a napkin from the dispenser above your head, dabbing it with water and handing it to you. you lazily snatch it, swiping it across your lips.
"thanks," you slur, dropping the napkin into the toilet and flushing it away.
"you all done?" he asks.
you nod your head once.
"alright, come on-" he heads for the door.
a loud noise of you wretching again fills the room.
"fuck!" he positions your body over the toilet properly as you lazily spill again.
"i had too many martinis," you moan as your head rests against the wall again.
"you should have listened to me." he passes you another napkin.
°˖➴
the car ride back to your place is eventful. the cab driver must have been drunk aswell, because the way he's swerving on the highway makes noel pray you don't surprise-vomit again. your head flaps onto his lap like a dead corpse, and he cradles your head to keep you steady.
"where's your place?" he asks, shaking you to life.
"huh?"
"where's your flat, love?" noel squints down at you.
"uhm," you sniffle. "where are we?"
he looks out the window. "crossfield," he tells you.
"make a right" you slur.
he repeats it to the driver, which makes another very unsafe turn.
"we're here." noel says as he reaches over to pay the driver and then picks up your head. you hold your head as you get up to fast, trying to steady your vision.
"thanks, mate." noel pats the driver's shoulder roughly, and then gently escorts you out of the car.
you grab the railing of the entrance to your flat, carefully moving up the stairs. he grabs your waist as you clumsily trip over your feet again.
"careful, birdie." he adjusts your position, moving you into your flat. he takes your keys, asking you which one goes in the lock. once he figures it out, he directs you inside.
"it's so fucking hot in here" you groan, trudging towards your bedroom.
"I'm gonna make you some tea, okay?" he tells you.
"m'kay" you rub your eyes, grabbing the wall for support as you travel deeper into your flat towards your bedroom.
the second you hit your room, you unzip your dress and slip out of it, and your tights are next.
you stand clad in your bra and underwear, the matching black set you bought that day at 'the chateau'.
"i've got tea," noel kicks open your bedroom door, carefully balancing steamy a mug between his hands.
his eyes drag up to your face, but are met with the sight of your soft skin. the orange lamp light casting a glow on your skin as you stretch your arms over your head with a yawn.
you turn around, your hands buried deep in your frizzy hair. "thanks." your lips curl into a smile.
heat rises to his face, and he clears his throat. he tries to avert his eyes, but your figure is so perfect, he finds it hard to look away.
when he finally manages, his eyes fix on the carpet and he picks up your lacy dress, tossing it into your hamper.
you slump down onto your bed, stretching your limbs across the soft white sheets. he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, looking back at you.
"i gotta go now." he says.
"aw, come on noely," you slur, resting on your elbow.
he chuckles and shakes his head.
"it's really late." he pats his thighs, moving off your bed.
"it's a friday night." you excuse his statement.
"i know."
“which means it’s almost the weekend.”
“i know.”
"i don't want to be alone." you confess.
he gives you a sad smile. "i know."
"is it her?" you ask, completely unfiltered.
his eyebrows furrowed. "what?"
"the blonde girl." you nearly groan at the thought of her face.
he laughs, scratching his neck. "dunno, love. its just late. I should get some sleep."
"so she isn't waiting for you?"
he stares blankly at you. "how do you know about meg?"
"everyone knows about her. she's perfect." you admit with a pout.
he huffs a laugh. "i s'pose she's still at the party."
"if she's still partying then its not too late for you to go home." you say.
he chuckles once. you may have been drunk, but you weren't stupid.
he lays down next to you, with a respectable distance, telling himself he’ll stay just until you fall asleep, but time gets away from him. around four in the morning, noel sneaks out and leaves you a tiny note by your bedside.
you wake at seven, rolling around in your bed with messy hair draped over your eyes. you groan, the impact of a pounding headache sinking in. you’re only in your black set that you bought the other day, and you wonder, where the hell did my clothes go?
you get out of bed and get ready for the day, your eyes finally meeting your black dress in the hamper along with your pantyhose. when you pull on a fresh t-shirt and house shorts, you realize a note on your nightstand.
a messy, rushed, and script handwritten note lies on your white table near your lamp, and you slowly lift it close to your eyes.
birdie,
last night was eventful. im glad i got to know ya. please take care of yerself- i left you some hangover shite on the counter. hope that helps.
P.S. i haven’t forgot your name.
your lips part, and then curl into a smile. he had left a note. he had remembered your name.
you drop the note back onto your dresser, carefully padding into the kitchen. the floors are ice cold, sending a shiver up your body. you rub your arms that were covered in goosebumps, searching for a nearby sweater to cover your body.
you spot noel's blue suitjacket hanging off the stool near your counter, and you scurry over to wrap it over your body. on the counter was a bottle of water, painkillers to cure the headache, and another note with his phone number just in case you needed him.
why was he being so nice? he was never explicitly kind to you, let alone would ever take notice of you.
you pop the painkillers into your mouth, downing the whole bottle of water in just a few minutes. you've never been hungover before, mainly because you only had one drink whenever you went out.
you walk back to your bedroom, sinking back into the sheets again. you stay like that, wrapped in his suit jacket that still smells like his cologne, and you inhale it softly as you slowly drift off to sleep.
5:15pm. a knock.
5:16pm. the doorbell.
then again.
then an, "open the door, i know you're in there."
5:17pm. the doorbell again, this time over and over again until your head is pounding even harder and you're fully awake.
you groan, tripping over your feet as you scramble for the door, where the doorbell is still ringing, someone pushing at the noisy button rapidly.
"what?" you moan, swinging open the door.
noel stops, his hand frozen on the button.
his eyes drag up your figure. you're still in your black lacy scraps, your chest partially covered with his dark suit jacket that hangs off your arms and drops to your hips.
he clears his throat, his eyes crawling back to your exhausted face.
"don't you know how it pick up the phone?" noel snaps at you.
you jerk your head back at his tone with a tiny scoff. "i was sleeping."
his face softens, his expression reading the words, "oh."
"i called you like, fifty times" he scratches his neck in embarrassment.
you look at him; study him, and tilt your head. why did he even care? it intrigued you how he wanted to be there for you.
"why?" you asked.
his expression dropped as he cleared his throat again. "dunno. wanted to check on you, i s'pose," he avoids your eyes with a small shrug.
"okay. well, i'm fine." you stand in the doorway, barefoot and barely covered.
it's clearly a distraction for noel. he can't look you in the eye.
"well, you forgot something at the office, so I came to drop it off." he says once he's recollected himself.
your head lifts off the door in curiosity, not expecting him to pull out your pink notebook with your diary entries inside it. your eyes widen in horror, snatching it out of his hands.
you press it tightly against your chest with a loud gulp. "why do you have this?" you freak out.
he's nearly scared of your tone. "uh, last night a bunch of things fell out of your purse, and you...forgot it."
your chest heaves, and you almost forget how to breathe. there was extremely embarrassing, super private, your-eyes-only type of stuff in there. did he read it?
you scooped your hair out of your pale face, trying to calm yourself down. he wouldn't invade your privacy like that.
"did you uh," you start, your breath shaky. "see anything?"
his brow perks up. "see what?"
"did you read it?" you ask hesitantly, your cheeks turning a firey shade of red.
he stays quiet. every second that passes by makes you more anxious, your diary being choked by your sweaty fingers.
"noel." you ask tentatively.
he looks away. "i..."
you want to crawl up into a ball and hide. he had seen your diary. your entries. your love notes. your confessions. everything.
"what did you see?" your voice is shaky, and you might cry from embarrassment.
"come on, birdie-" he puts his hands out in front of him to calm your nerves.
"what did you see?" you repeat even louder.
"do you really need me to clarify?" he mumbles while averting his eyes.
you practice deep breaths, still clutching your notebook tightly to your chest. maybe you can explain.
"you saw..." you start, cutting yourself off. the reality of it all was very terrifying. you were going to have an anxiety attack.
"yeah." he nods slowly.
everything starts to come together in your brain.
oh my God. he had invaded your privacy.
you look up at him with disgusted eyes. "you went through my things?" you ask shyly.
his eyes flash with panic, and he's quick to deny it. "what? no- it wasn't like that-"
"noel, just leave me alone." you move to close the door, trying to shut him out.
he drops his foot in the door, his sneaker standing in the way. your breathing trembles as your eyes crawl back up to his face with pure embarrassment. "you weren't supposed to see that."
"i figured." he says with a small chuckle.
you shake your head. this wasn't even a tiny bit funny.
he notices your discomfort. "listen, birdie. it fell out of your bag while you were in the bathroom, and it was open-"
"but you still read it." you shoot back.
his expression drops. "but-"
"no." you cut him off. "you knew it was private and you still read it."
"you don't have to be embarrassed-" he starts, but you interrupt him again.
"are you serious?" you nearly shout.
he falls silent. "of course I'm embarrassed. that wasn't meant for you to see." you run a shaky hand through your hair.
"i'm sorry." he shakes his head frantically, trying to get you to relax.
"just go." you mutter through tears.
"shit- i didn't mean to, okay? please don't cry, birdie" he looks helpless at your door, wanting to comfort you and tell you that you had nothing to be embarrassed about.
"please. just go." you sniffle, not looking at him. your hand tightens on the doorknob, ready to shut him out.
he keeps his distance, nodding once and moving down the hall, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
you don't watch him leave, way too overwhelmed, and you shut the door the second he departs. the door slams, and you press your back against it as the tears begin to fall.
you swiped your palm against your wet, tear-stained cheeks, sniffling helplessly. once you stopped shaking from embarrassment, you slid down the door and dropped to the floor.
you tug your knees tightly to your chest, sobbing into noel's suit jacket. you pick up your diary that's on the floor next to you, flipping through the pages. your tears splatter on the white pages, causing the ink to run; ink that was once carelessly glided across your page.
you rip out each page with a loud sob, and the room fills with tearing noises. your fingers shake unintentionally as the words fall from each page into tiny bits on the wooden floor of your flat.
once you finish, you throw the pieces of paper into the garbage can and dig your palms into your eyes so roughly, you start to see stars.
°˖➴
the next day at the office is full of fake smiles and longing stares. for once, you don't peer into room six and watch him smile. you don't see him argue with your boss or sip black coffee. you just do your work like everybody else in the office. and it's boring.
"the chief wants to review contracts with you in room four." matt covers the telephone with his spare hand and calls to your desk.
"can't. it's my lunch break." you say, scooting out of your chair and grabbing your bag.
he lifts a brow. "no it's not. you already had your lunch break at twelve."
you stare blankly at him, and then steal a glance at the clock. it's eight at night. "whatever." you hurry out the door and press the button for the lift. your eyes wander to room four, and you see noel leaning on the desk, flipping through a few pages. he's sitting with liam and the rest of the band, as well as their tour manager lisa.
his eyes look through the glass and find yours like memory. your heart stutters, and the second your eyes meet his, you whip your head back around. the lift dings, and you step inside.
noel's expression drops, and he watches you through the glass. your eyes are on him as the lift's doors close, travelling down.
"noel?" lisa asks with an exasperated sigh, tapping her pen against the glass table.
liam knocks his shoulder against noel's, and he's brought back into the world. "what's wrong with you today, lad? yer so out of it" liam lifts a brow.
"huh?" noel asks while clearing his throat.
lisa's chin is in her hands. "i was just asking you if you wanted to add any songs to the setlist before we submit it."
"oh."
she lifts a brow.
uh, no. I'm fine with it if he is." noel fakes a smile.
lisa looks at liam, then back at noel.
"i like the new you." liam chuckles, taking a drag from his cig.
"I'll be right back." noel pushes out of his chair without hesitation, heading for the door.
"we're in the middle of a meeting, noel-" lisa shouts back at him, but is cut off by the sharp sound of the door closing.
"never fuckin' wants to listen to me, now he's fine with the setlist?" liam mumbles and shakes his head lazily.
°˖➴
he's sweating by the time he races down the stairs to the ground floor of the office, (the lift took too long). he pushes the door open as his button up is flapping open, his sunglasses resting above his head. he peels his eyes out for you, and they dash across the street. you're nowhere to be found. he crosses the street, looking around once more. as he turns his head right, he spots you. his heart flutters, watching you sit on a bench with your earbuds in, your unmistakable pink coat wrapped around your body and buttoned to the top.
the wind plays with your hair, sending a few strands into your eyes, and he watches you carefully. your legs are crossed, and you gaze into the distance, your expression saddened.
he takes a deep breath, stretches his hands out, and then opens the gate to the park. he gazes at you across the way, in front of the large waterfall, and your staring into the pennies at the bottom of the pond like you were hoping for something revolutionary to happen.
maybe you were.
he takes a cautious seat next to you on the bench, his movements steady and slow. he wasn't here to fight, or to embarrass you. you noticed him, but chose not to say anything. if you did, you'd probably just embarrass yourself even more.
"listen," he starts, but then cuts himself off. he thinks about what he's gonna say, realizing he shouldn't feed you information. you know exactly what you did and he knows exactly what he saw. there was no room for explanations. he just wants you to understand. maybe an apology is enough.
"i'm sorry." he says simply.
you blink once, slowly, and then turn your head in his direction. the swift london breeze is teasing your hair, and noel so badly wants to tuck it behind your ear and run his fingers along your freckled cheeks.
"its fine. you already saw it, it's not gonna fix anything." you tell him.
he sighs. maybe an apology isn't enough.
"you're not listening." noel clenches his jaw with a shake of his head.
you squint at him. "I hear you perfectly, noel."
he scoffs.
you roll your eyes at him. "cause seriously, now all I am is just a fucking weirdo to you. it's the truth, isn't it?" you snap.
he just watches you.
"I'm just the clumsy girl who daydreamed about you and spilled her coffee. the girl who you caught buying scandalous lingerie," you get up from the bench and zip up your work bag.
"just the crazy girl who writes about her stupid, childish, mr. right in her notebook," you ramble loudly, people starting to gaze over at you two now.
noel clears his throat, trying to keep things on the down low, not anything people knowing your business.
"just the girl who has a weird obsession with seeing you smile, right? i'm just fucking crazy?" you throw your arms out in defense.
he gets up from his place on the bench, his face centimeters from yours.
"you aren't crazy." he says, his voice low, while stepping even closer to you.
your breath hitches, but him being close to you isn't important right now.
"so then what is it? mental? peculiar?-" you squint at him from the blinding spring sun.
his fingers come up to brush your cheeks. your expression softens at the contact of his fingers on your skin. "i was going to say," he starts, his eyes searching yours.
you gulp loudly, utterly confused and waiting for his words.
"you shouldn't be embarrassed because I don't think it's weird. I think it's cute." he admits with a tiny smile.
you scoff. "like 'cute' is any better than weird. of course it's cute, noel. its childish." you try to shake your head, but he forces your eyes to his.
"i'm not mad at you." he clarifies, staring deep into your eyes.
"what?" you whisper.
he shakes his head softly in confirmation.
"why didn't you just talk to me?" he inquires, his lips curling into a smile.
"i couldn't. i was stupidly in love with you." you chuckle while kicking a rock with your boot, but there's no amusement there.
your eyes meet his again and he asks, "was?"
your heart flutters. "uh..."
he lifts a brow. "are you not in love with me anymore, birdie?"
you gulp loudly, trying to calm your breathing so you wouldn't stutter. "of course i still love you."
he's full on grinning now. "good. can i tell you something?"
you nod eagerly as he leans in, his lips at your ear. "i think I'm in love with you too." he whispers.
°˖➴
he presses your back against the wall next to your flat, kissing you passionately as your hands tug at his hair.
"get the key," he mutters between kisses, and you nod before looking down and scrambling for your keys at the bottom of your purse.
his kisses advance from your lips down to the length of your neck, unbuttoning your pink coat so he could gain more access to your skin. your fingers find the golden key, and you push it into the door.
you and noel tumble inside you flat, the keys falling onto the front table as he forces off your coat and then you reach for the zipper of his jacket. he chuckles and kisses your neck again as you pull off his black sunglasses and throw them on the couch.
his hands trail from your waist to your thighs, picking you up and carrying you through your flat. you smile as your hands clasp around his neck, not breaking the kiss. he hums as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck gently, and you giggle in response.
when you arrive in your bedroom, he doesn't bother with the light, kicking the door shut with his sneaker. he drops you and your feet hit the floor. you immediately reach for your button up, popping open the buttons and shrugging it off.
he laughs and shakes his head, looking down at your stunning black bra again. "you're gonna fuckin' kill me" he nearly groans, tugging his shirt out from his belt. you pull it off in one motion.
you press your lips to his tenderly, letting him savor your taste as he walks you backwards towards your bed. your ankles hit the wood border of your bed, and you giggle as you both fall down.
he adjusts on top of you, turning his head to kiss you deeper you groan at the feeling of his lips finally being on yours. after daydreaming about them, you can confirm he kisses better than you thought.
he runs his hands up and down your thighs, his fingers roaming your body teasingly as you shiver under his touch from the sensation of the cool metal of his silver rings touching your bare skin. "noel," you whisper, pulling his head closer to you so he can kiss your neck again.
"what, birdie?" he asks with a sigh as he peppers kisses all over your neck, making sure to suck the skin after. he does it again, trying to make you squirm.
you giggled instead, which makes him kiss you harder.
"nothing. i'm just really happy." you confess.
he smiles, shakes his head, and then leans back on his calves to unzip your black skirt. he kisses your neck once, and then pulls your skirt off swiftly. "believe it or not, but you look really fit in these grandma skirts,"
"shut up," you smack his chest lightly, and he gazes down at you again.
he shakes his head at you. "what's wrong?" you ask, disappointment flickering on your face. why'd he stop?
"you're so fucking beautiful." he nearly groans at the sight of you, crashing his lips against yours.
you sigh sweetly, the sound so beautiful to him. he tenderly rubs his thumbs along your waist to keep you steady, kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck.
he runs his soft nose along the length of your neck, and then stops to look down at you again. what was it now?
"noel?" your shaky hands run up his bare biceps and cup his face.
"sorry." he says, shaking his head.
"what is it? tell me." you try to slow your rapid heartbeat.
"nothing, i just-" he repositions himself atop of you, his strong arms settling beside your head.
your brows furrowed in confusion. "did i do something wrong?" you ask innocently.
his eyes widen. "what? no." he shakes his head quickly. "no, no. fuck- it's not you." he squeezes his eyes shut.
your hands run up his chest in a soothing motion. "tell me." you ask again.
"i just..." he gulps. "i don't wanna rush things with you."
your whole body stills. "you mean, you don't want to..." you gesture to the both of you in your bed, half clothed.
he chuckles. "no, not like that. of course i want you, but i don't want it to be over so soon." he clarifies.
oh.
you smile slowly. "i want you too." you bite your lip.
"good." he settles over you properly, pressing his lips to yours once.
his eyes search yours as he stills, just drinking you in, taking a moment to really look at you. at your beauty. your originality. he's never met anyone like you before.
you sigh, growing tired of not having his mouth on yours. you curl your fingers around his silver chain, pulling him closer to your lips with it as the cold metal hits your face. you tug his strands of hair.
"eager, are we?" he laughs through passionate kisses.
"shut up already." you mutter back.
he traces the hem of your lace set, clicking his tongue. "did you buy this the day i ran into you?"
you bite your lip and nod teasingly.
"this is the one you were holding?" he asks with a smile.
you nod again, and he chuckles. "looks great on you." he kisses the strap at your shoulder, his hands firm on your waist.
°˖➴
you haven't slept this peacefully in years, the cool morning air slipping through your bedroom and washing over your skin. noel got up at six, slipping on his boxers and ruffling his hair as he looked over at you, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder.
he grabs his jacket on the floor and grabs his cig pack in the pocket, walking over to the window and lighting the cig over the bright sunlight.
you twist in bed, the sun nearly blinds you. you rub your wrist over your eyes gently as you yawn like a newborn kitten, stretching your limbs out across the sheets.
his eyes wander from the quiet rustling trees to an open drawer you forgot to close. your pink notebook. it's flipped open to the first and only page, looking like you had previously ripped the rest out. it's the first entry you had ever written about him. noel smiles, and then looks back at you, putting out his half-used cig and leaving it in the ashtray sitting on your windowsill. he rips out the last page, and then he crawls back into bed, forgetting to close the window.
his fingers dance on your arm, slowly soothing you and letting you drift back to sleep. his head sits on his elbow, intrigued by you and your soft breathing. after a few minutes, your eyes flutter open. you immediately smile, but then sink into the pillow and try to hide it. you turn so you're laying on your chest, the golden streak of sunlight sneaking through the window now casting a gleam on your bare back.
"morning, baby" he scoots closer to you running his nose up your back. the feeling tickles you, and you turn over with a quiet yawn.
"morning." you say as you move the sheets up to cover your bare chest, cupping his face and capturing him in a sweet kiss.
"so...are you gonna write about me again?" his fingers twirl in your hair.
you smack his hand away with a tiny smile. "what?"
he lifts the first entry he ripped out of your notebook, the folded piece of paper between his fingers.
you snatch the paper, opening it. "Jesus..." you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment once you see that it's your first entry.
"that one's my favorite." he kisses your cheek.
"really?"
"mhm." he brings his finger up to move your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.
"what would i write, noel?" your brain returns to his previous question.
he shrugs. "maybe this time you could totally lose yer shit and talk about how i'm in your bed..." he drawls his words, moving over you again to pepper kisses all over your face.
you smack his face. "you're so annoying."
he smiles.
"fuck, you have a really pretty smile" you blurt out.
he widens his eyes. "some really great author wrote about it once. said sumthin like 'its the prettiest one they've ever seen?'" he taunts you.
"I hate you," you groan, trying to hide your face.
"well, I love you." he says it so casually.
you freeze, slowly removing your head from the pillow. you told each other the same thing last night, but now it feels more real. especially because the thought of meg arrives in your head.
"noel." you cover your mouth in pure horror.
"what?" his thumb brushes your shoulder softly.
"what about your girlfriend?"
he sighs. "I broke up with her."
your eyes nearly bug out of your head. "what?"
he nods solemnly. "yeah, uh-"
you sit up in bed, grabbing the sheet along with you as you sink back against the headboard and prepare for him to tell you.
"after I saw your letters, I noticed me and meg...we're always playing around, us. I don't want that, y'know? I want sumthin' real. and yer like...the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
your heart flutters. he's seen so many other pretty women before, an he chose you.
"was she mad?" you ask while biting your lip.
"nah," he shrugs it off. "we were drifting apart. she saw it too. and I've seen her give eyes to some posh artist who lives in new york...so"
"oh" you nod slowly.
"d'ya want breakfast?" he asks.
you nod. "do you need help finding things?" you ask as he moves down the hall.
"nah, i made ya tea before, remember?" he calls back to you.
you chuckle softly.
°˖➴
9/26/97
dear birdie, i have to say you take the crown with the cutest laugh i've ever heard. i saw you talkin to that lad at your desk, and i watched the way you tucked your pretty hair behind your ear and bit your lip. you're the most beautiful girl i've ever laid eyes on, so don't go forgettin' it.
P.S. tell that lad to fuck off. I have a feeling he knows I'm your boyfriend, so he shouldn't be making you laugh like that. (even though you're really adorable when doin' it.)
P.P.S. I love you.
P.P.P.S. don't forget to meet me in the printer room today at four. ;)
- noel
you bite into your apple as you chuckle from his note, looking into room six at his face as he watches you read it. he licks his lips as he takes a sip of coffee. you drop his note into your secret drawer where all his other love letters are, opening the cap of your pen with your teeth as he watches your mouth teasingly.
you start your own note.
9/26/97
dear noel, my laugh could never beat your beautiful smile. besides, matt is gay. he's not hitting on me, so you don't have to worry about that. he's my best friend. regarding your recent concerns, i could never miss the printer room. i've been thinking about it ever since i sat down and opened my computer. i love you.
- your birdie
he watches you write, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as you slowly pull out a blank envelope, opening it and swiping your tongue across the sticky seal. you kept your gaze on him the whole time, slipping the note inside the envelope and sealing it shut. then, you slowly got up out of your seat and walked over to noel's mailbox, slipping it inside.
"sending the chief sexy notes?" matt whispers with a playful gasp from his desk.
you giggled, putting your finger up to your lips and telling him to "shh".
"you know you can get fired for that, right?"
you shrug. "miriam's not the only one who's sending notes now."
"sneakyyyy" matt winks at you and returns to his work.
the door to room six opens, and noel slips out. he reads your note right then and there in front of his mailbox, not waiting to go somewhere secret to read it first. when he's done, he gives you hungry eyes and nods towards the printer room.
he mouths the words, "now."
your lips curl into a large grin as you toss your apple into the trash and walk towards the printer room.
he waits a few minutes before slipping inside not to seem suspicious, and he locks the door behind him.
"hi." he says with a loud sigh after turning around. you two are finally having alone time after a lot of teasing stares across the room.
your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and your legs are crossed.
"hi." you wave adorably, and he nearly groans at the sight of you.
noel backs you up against the wall, crashing his lips against yours. "yer so fuckin sexy," he runs his nose along the length of your neck.
his big hands tuck under your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your lifted off the floor and into his arms. he sits you on top of the printer with a small thud.
"you locked it, right?" you ask through kisses and heavy breaths.
he hums against your lips. "yep. wouldn't wanna get caught by some shy office girl, right?"
you giggle at his reference, remembering how embarrassed you were after walking in on liam and patsy. they had found a new spot now, the printer room being you and noel's hideout.
"i love you." you kissed him hard as his fingers dug into your waist.
"love you more, birdie." he smiles the same smile that did something to your heart all those months ago. and it damaged your heart the same exact way as it did the first time. and you never wanted to forget it.
