#<- for the noel... what are you doing here.. leave him alone

[majinael]

Walking away PT2 (final)

★PT1 here

★Michael Kaiser x Female Reader (Angst, Smut)

★1,9k words

The room buzzed with laughter and music, champagne glasses clinking under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. You stood near the bar, nursing your drink as your eyes swept over the crowd of glittering athletes and dignitaries. You weren’t here for the festivities; this was strictly professional, a networking opportunity to further your already flourishing career.

But then you saw him again. Of course, you had considered this possibility, but you still hadn’t expected him to show up at an event so far from Munich.

But here he was, Michael Kaiser.

The name alone was enough to make your stomach churn. He was the center of attention, as always, surrounded by admirers basking in the light of his golden-haired, sharp-tongued brilliance. He looked sharper than you remembered—older, more refined—but that same cocky smirk danced on his lips as if he owned the room. And maybe he did.

You froze when his eyes met yours. A bittersweet feeling washing over you.

There was no mistaking the flicker of recognition, followed by the telltale gleam of amusement. He excused himself from his circle and began striding toward you. You turned away, pretending to be engrossed in your drink, but it was too late.

“Fancy seeing you here,” his voice drawled, smooth as silk.

You glanced up, your expression cold. “Hah, Michael.”

He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Still as charming as when you left, I see.”

“What do you want?” you asked bluntly with a sigh, unwilling to play his games.

His grin didn’t falter, but his eyes sharpened. “Just catching up with... an old friend. You look good.”

You bristled at the compliment, hating how his gaze felt like a touch, sliding over you with calculated ease. "I'm not one for small talk, you should know this, and we both know you showing up here again isn’t a coincidence.”

It was true—you had first met him at this exact event a few years ago, when he told you how Noel Noa had practically dragged him there.

“Always so direct.” He chuckled, leaning against the bar. “Alright, fine. I saw you and thought I’d say hello. Is that a crime?”

“Just unnecessary.”

His smirk wavered, just for a second. “Unnecessary? After everything?”

You scoffed, almost choking on your champagne, setting your glass down with a sharp clink. “Oh but you don’t get to bring up the past, Michael. Not here, not ever.”

He straightened, the playful light in his eyes dimming. “You’re still mad.”

“Mad?” You laughed bitterly. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re the one who never tried, who never changed and let me walk away like none of it mattered.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might apologize. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and dangerous. “It mattered. Don’t ever think it didn’t.”

The heat of his words sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to let him see it. “You surely have a funny way of showing it.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. He was not joking at all. The air between you grew thick, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“Let’s not do this,” you said, your voice trembling despite yourself.

“Too late,” he muttered, grabbing your hand brutally.

The cool night air hit you as he pulled you onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him. The sound of the gala faded into the background, leaving only the silence and the pounding of your heart.

“Michael, let me go—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his grip firm but not exactly painful. “Just stop.”

You glared at him, but the fire in your eyes only seemed to fuel him. “What do you want from me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I don’t know. I just— that night I wanted to text you, apologize and—damn it, I missed you.”

You laughed harshly. “Missed me? Coming from the guy who prioritized his ego over everything else, over the only person that could ever love him so deeply even after everything he had done.”

“I was blind to see,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I know that. But you…” He stepped closer, his hand brushing against your cheek. “I thought you would come back, like you always did.”

“Come back?” Your voice cracked. “Michael, you… you fucking broke me. Even after so many chances, so many times I told you what was wrong, I stayed, because I was so, so stupidly in love with you. But you crossed my breaking point long ago. I'm not your fucking puppy to keep coming back and don’t expect to walk back into my life and think I’ll just forget.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m asking you to let me try again, prove you I've changed.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

Your back hit the wall with a dull thud, the soft glow of the city lights casting flickering shadows over Michael’s sharp features. His lips crashed into yours, hungry and unrelenting, like he was trying to devour every ounce of resistance you had left.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you muttered, but the way your hands twisted in his shirt betrayed you.

Michael laughed low in his throat, a sound so infuriatingly smug it made your stomach tighten. “Keep lying to yourself, Liebe,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with amusement and desire. “But your body says otherwise.”

Before you could retaliate, his hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. His arousal was evident, pressed hard against you, and the heat pooling in your core made it impossible to ignore the truth—you wanted him just as badly.

“Shut up,” you hissed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking him back into a searing kiss.

He grabbed your thighs, and as you wrapped your legs instinctively around his waist, he carried you to a random room. As soon as he locked the door, he set you down on your feet and his hands found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down with the kind of impatient confidence only Michael Kaiser could pull off. The fabric slipped off your shoulders and pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your lace lingerie.

“God... you planned this, didn't you,” he murmured, his hands tracing the curves of your body. His eyes darkened as he took you in, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“Are you done staring?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm despite the heat building between you.

He smirked, one hand sliding around to cup your ass and pull you closer. “Not even close.”

In one swift motion, he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist again. The sensation of his hardness pressing against your center made you gasp, and he took advantage of the sound, his mouth moving to your neck.

“I dreamt about this ever since I saw you in the hall, you're so fucking pretty I just wanted to take you then and there, show everyone that you belong to me.” he muttered, his teeth grazing your skin.

“Still... so f-full of yourself, I see,” you shot back, though your voice was breathless.

His response was a sharp bite that sent a jolt straight to your core. “You love it,” he growled.

You didn’t deny it, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. When you finally pushed it off his shoulders, you let your hands roam over the hard planes of his chest and let your fingers trace the ink of his tattoo, the muscles taut under your touch.

"Still showing off,” you muttered, your nails dragging down his torso just enough to make him hiss.

“And you still like what you see,” he shot back, his lips curving into that infuriating smirk as he carried you to the bed.

He dropped you onto the mattress, standing over you for a moment as if savoring the sight. Then he was on you, his mouth everywhere at once—your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts leaving purple blossoms in his path. His hands were relentless, pulling your bra down to expose you fully.

The groan he let out when his mouth found your nipple sent a fresh wave of heat through you. “Missed this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice almost tender before it hardened again. “Missed how you feel under me.”

“Then stop talking and do something about it,” you challenged, arching into his touch.

His smirk returned, wicked and unrelenting. “As you wish.”

His fingers slipped between your thighs, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan, but he wasn’t having it.

“Let me hear you,” he commanded, his voice low and rough as he pushed the fabric aside and slid his fingers through your slick folds. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, though your voice cracked as he circled your clit with deliberate pressure.

“Flattery?” He laughed, slipping a finger inside you without warning. The stretch was perfect, the familiar rhythm making you gasp. “No, that’s just the truth.”

His thumb pressed against your clit as he added a second finger, pumping into you with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. The heat coiling in your belly grew unbearable, and you hated how easily he unraveled you.

“You’re still so mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

That was enough to snap you out of your haze. “I’m not—”

But he cut you off, pulling his fingers away and sitting back on his heels. You glared at him, frustrated and aching, but he just grinned, licking his fingers with deliberate slowness.

“Taste just as good as I remember,” he said, his voice dark and teasing.

“Stop being a cocky ass and—”

Before you could finish, he unbuckled his belt, the clink of metal sending a thrill through you. He leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, his hands working quickly to free himself.

When he finally slid into you, the stretch was exquisite, filling you in a way that made your breath catch. He stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a shaky breath.

“Still perfect and tight for me,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent before he started moving.

The pace was relentless, his hips snapping against yours with a force that left you breathless. Every thrust was punctuated by his low groans and the filthy words he whispered in your ear. "Fucking slut."

“Say my name,” he demanded, his teeth grazing your jaw.

“Michael,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you teetered on the edge.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled, his pace quickening.

“Michael K-kaiser..”

Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body arching into his as he followed close behind, his groan of pleasure sending shivers down your spine.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing. Then he rolled onto his side, pulling you against him.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you whispered again, more to yourself than to him.

But Michael just smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Keep telling yourself that, Liebe.”

The silence afterward was almost deafening.

You lay tangled together, your breathing ragged as you stared at the ceiling. Kaiser was the first to speak, his voice soft. “This isn’t over.”

You turned to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself fall again—not yet.

“We’ll see,” you said quietly, slipping out of bed before he could stop you.

As you left the room, his words echoed in your mind.

“This isn’t over.”

But he had your number, and you never blocked him.

[biblical-chronicles]

Locked out

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where you lock yourself out of your hotel room and end up in Noel's.

[18+ !!!] [enemies to lovers]

____________________________________________

The job had its perks. Traveling the world, working with some of the biggest gigs, free booze—Oasis had money to burn, after all. But there was one massive, massive downside.

Noel fucking Gallagher.

It wasn’t just that he was a sarcastic, self-important, grumpy bastard (which he absolutely was). It wasn’t even that he always had some smart-arse comment locked and loaded, ready to wind you up. It was the fact that he seemed to enjoy it, like taking the piss out of you was a personal hobby.

The lads had clocked it ages ago.

"How old are you two, seriously?" Guigs had said just the other night, shaking his head as you and Noel argued over god knows what. "You’re worse than me Nan and Grandad, swear down."

"Yeah, the sexual tension’s killin’ me," Bonehead had added, smirking as he took a drag from his cigarette.

Noel had scoffed, shaking his head. "Fucking hell, mate. I’d sooner shag the local nitty than deal with this one."

You flipped him off, unfazed. "Oh, yeah? I bet the nitty would be the one having to get tested after that, dickhead."

It was constant, this back-and-forth, from the moment you woke up to the second you clocked out. Noel loved to threaten to fire you at least once a day, always with the same lazy reasoning.

"Should’ve sacked you ages ago," he’d mutter, watching you tune his guitar before a gig. "Only reason you’re still ‘ere is ‘cause I can’t be arsed teachin’ some other muppet how I like it."

"Yeah, yeah," you’d reply, never looking up. "Don’t do me any favors, Gallagher."

And so it went.

Now, though, none of that mattered. Not the bickering, not the jabs. Because right now? You were stood in the dimly lit hotel lobby, staring at a handwritten sign that might as well have been a death sentence.

"LOBBY CLOSED. OPERATING HOURS: 6 AM - 12 PM."

"Fucking great," you muttered, running a hand down your face.

It had been a long day, and all you wanted was a shower, a bed, and maybe a few hours of peace before having to deal with Noel’s bullshit all over again tomorrow. But no, instead, you had to stand here like a mug because somehow, in your exhaustion, you’d managed to lock yourself out of your room.

Just as you were debating whether you could break into your own room with sheer willpower alone, the sound of footsteps echoed through the lobby.

And just like fucking clockwork—

"Eh?"

You knew that voice.

"Did you get lost, or what?"

You shut your eyes for a brief moment, praying for strength, then turned to see Noel strolling in through the revolving door.

He was still dressed from wherever the fuck he’d been; jeans, adidas trainers, a zip-up jacket with the collar popped just enough to make him look like he was about to sell you dodgy gear in a car park.

You gritted your teeth. "Fuck off, Noel."

His smirk widened, slow and knowing. "Ohh, someone’s touchy."

You turned back to the desk, hoping he’d get bored and leave. No such luck. He sauntered up beside you, eyes flicking to the sign before back to you.

Realization dawned, and then he just laughed.

"No." He pointed at you, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his luck. "No fuckin’ way. You locked yourself out, didn’t you?"

You glared at him, crossing your arms. "No."

He raised an eyebrow, amused.

You exhaled sharply. "Okay, maybe, and no one is even here! How is a lobby not 24/7?"

"And you didn’t take your key, and you didn’t check the sign first," he said, as if reading from a list of your stupid decisions. "Jesus Christ, love. That’s incredible."

You scowled. "Piss off."

Noel, clearly enjoying himself, leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling with pure delight. "Me? Oh, nah. I think I’ll stick around, actually. This is too fuckin’ good."

You groaned. "Go to bed, Noel."

"Bed?" He feigned a yawn, stretching his arms dramatically. "Oh, yeah. That’s right. I can go to bed. Because I have access to me own fuckin’ room."

You clenched your fists. "I have a backstage pass. I’ll just sleep in the tour bus."

Noel snorted. "Yeah? Or on one of them couches over there?" He gestured vaguely to the dimly lit lobby seating area. "Might be comfy, if no one nicks your shite first."

You stilled.

He grinned. "Ohh, right. Didn’t think about that, did ya?"

You huffed. "Fuck."

Noel pressed a hand to his chest in mock sympathy. "Tragic, really." Then, after a beat, "... Guess you’re stuck here then."

You gave him a flat look. "Guess so."

He smirked, clearly waiting for you to crack.

Which is why it pained you—physically—when you exhaled and muttered, "Or… I could stay in yours. Just ‘til the desk opens."

Noel blinked. "Oh?"

You clenched your jaw. "So no one nicks me shite."

His smirk returned, slow and victorious. "Yeah, yeah. ‘Course. Wouldn’t want anyone robbin’ your precious little pass, would we?"

You resisted the urge to deck him.

"Alright then," he said, turning toward the lifts, his voice filled with pure satisfaction. "C’mon, roomie."

You glared at his back as you followed him down the corridors.

Noel shut the door behind him and turned to face you, arms crossed, an insufferable smirk plastered across his face.

"Well, well," he said, leaning back against the door. "Never thought I’d see the day you begged to stay in me room."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you dropped your bag by the chair. "Begged? Fuck off, Noel. I suggested it ‘cause I had no choice."

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Ahh, see, that’s where you’re wrong, love. You had a choice." He gestured vaguely toward the lobby. "Could’ve stayed down there, kept them couches company."

"And let some knobhead nick me pass? Yeah, right." You crossed your arms. "This is just survival, mate. Has nothing to do with you."

His smirk widened. "Yeah? Then why’re you lookin’ at me like that?"

You blinked. "Like what?"

Noel tilted his head, eyes sweeping over you, unreadable. "Like you wanna throttle me."

You huffed, exasperated. "That’s just me natural state when you’re around, Gallagher."

"Ahh." He grinned. "See, I knew you liked me."

You let out a sharp laugh. "Like you? Jesus, Noel, I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire."

His grin didn’t falter. In fact, it only grew.

"Yeah? Funny," he mused, stepping closer, voice low, lazy. "‘Cause you’re still ‘ere, ain��t ya?"

You swallowed but held your ground. "I don’t have a room, Noel."

He hummed, nodding slowly. "Right, yeah. That’s why you’re ‘ere. Not ‘cause you wanna get me alone, see what all the fuss is about."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You are so full of yourself."

He gave you a slow once-over, something dark and knowing flickering in his gaze. "Yeah?"

You inhaled sharply, blood running hot. "Fuck you."

Noel’s smirk twitched—almost like he’d been waiting for you to say that.

"Ohh, wouldn’t you like that?"

The air shifted.

You were on him before you could think, hands grabbing at his shirt, pulling him down, crashing your mouth against his.

Noel barely had a second to react before he was pushing back, hands gripping your waist, shoving you up against the nearest wall. The impact sent a lamp wobbling on the bedside table, the dull thud of your back against the wall swallowed by the sound of both your ragged breaths.

His lips were warm, rough, demanding. His fingers dug into your waist, like he needed to anchor himself.

You bit his bottom lip, hard, just to be a dickhead.

Noel groaned against your mouth, grip tightening. "Oh, you wanna play it like that, do ya?"

Before you could smirk, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the wall, pressing in, chest flush against yours.

You yanked a hand free, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just to make him groan—and when he did, when his breath stuttered, you felt it everywhere.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered against your lips.

You smirked. "What’s wrong, Gallagher?" you breathed, voice teasing, drunk on the power shift. "Thought you could handle me?"

Noel laughed. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, lips grazing your jaw, "I could ruin you."

Your stomach dropped.

You clenched your jaw. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your grip tightened in his hair again, yanking his head back just enough to make him hiss. His smirk didn’t falter, though—if anything, it widened, smug and infuriating.

"You arrogant twat," you breathed, dragging your nails down the back of his neck. "Think you’re some fuckin’ god, don’t ya?"

Noel chuckled—dark, low. "Please, love," he murmured, voice dripping with mockery. "You’ve been gaggin’ for this since the day we met. Don’t pretend otherwise."

Your teeth gritted. "You’re deluded."

"Yeah?" He stepped closer, the heat of him pressing against you, trapping you between his body and the wall. "Then why ain’t you pushin’ me away?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt before you even realized it, and that was all it took.

One second, you were glaring up at him, seething, and the next—you were airborne.

A breathless gasp tore from your throat as he threw you onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath the sudden force of your body. Before you could even scramble upright, he was on you—knees bracketing your hips, hands gripping your wrists, pressing them into the sheets.

"You bastard—"

A sharp smack landed on your thigh, jolting you, heat blooming where his palm connected.

You froze.

Noel grinned. "What was that, sweetheart?"

Your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him. You hated the way your body betrayed you—the way your back arched, the way your thighs instinctively clenched together at the sting of his hand.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His smirk deepened. "Ohhh, that’s what you like, is it?" Another sharp slap—same spot, same deliberate pressure, just enough to make you jolt. "That why you’ve been windin’ me up all this time? Hopin’ I’d do this?"

You bit back a gasp as his teeth grazed your jaw, lips teasing over the heated skin just below your ear, fingers tightening where he held you down.

"You gonna let me go, or you just gonna sit here runnin’ your gob all night?" you shot back, arching up slightly beneath him, trying to gain some kind of control back.

Noel laughed, a little breathless. "Oh, you love this, don’t ya?" His hands shifted, releasing your wrists just to drag down your arms, over your waist, gripping your hips hard. "All that fight, all that fuckin’ attitude—"

"You love it," you shot back, daring.

Something snapped behind his eyes.

Before you could say another word, his mouth crashed against yours again.

It was all teeth, all tension, years of resentment and frustration and something else entirely spilling out between you.

You clawed at him in return, nails dragging up his back, yanking at his hair, swallowing the groan that tore from his throat.

"Still wanna tell me to fuck off, love?" Noel rasped against your lips, breath uneven.

Your fingers fisted in his shirt, pulling him back down. "Shut up." you muttered, crashing your mouth against his again.

He barely hesitated before paying you back, fisting a hand into your hair and pulling your head back, exposing the curve of your throat. His mouth was on you in an instant, hot and open, biting down just enough to make you gasp.

"Fuckin’ knew it," he muttered, voice thick with something triumphant. "Knew you’d be like this—mouthy little thing until you’re under me."

"And yet again, shut it." you snapped, even as your back arched, chasing the feel of him.

He laughed, breathless and sharp, his free hand sliding down to your thigh, gripping hard. Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach, pressing you down against the mattress with the weight of him. You let out a sound somewhere between frustration and something else entirely, but any protest died in your throat when his hand slapped against your arse, the sting shooting straight through you.

"That shut you up quick, didn’t it?" he murmured, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You tried to glare at him over your shoulder, but the effect was ruined by the way your breath hitched when he did it again, the sharp slap sending heat curling low in your stomach.

"Say it," he taunted, his grip tightening on your hip. "Say you want me."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

But Noel was nothing if not persistent. His hand slid lower, teasing, just enough to make you squirm beneath him. His teeth grazed your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. "C’mon, sweetheart. We both know you do."

Your pride was a stubborn thing, but your body was a traitor.

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze, eyes dark with something heady and reckless. "Go on, then," you breathed. "Do your worst."

His fingers dug into your hips as he dragged you back against him, his grip bruising, possessive. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before his teeth found your shoulder again, biting down just enough to make you jolt beneath him. He groaned at the way you twitched, how your body betrayed that last shred of resistance you were so desperately clinging to.

"That’s more like it," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with amusement. "Knew you just needed someone to put you in your place."

You scoffed, even as your breath came quicker. "You think that’s you?"

He laughed. "Oh, love," he murmured, dragging his mouth up the side of your neck, "I know it is."

His hands slid lower, mapping the shape of you, fingers pressing into every curve like he wanted to commit it to memory. He moved with a slow, deliberate kind of cruelty, reveling in every shudder, every little sound you didn’t mean to make. You clenched your jaw, still stubborn, but it only made him smirk against your skin.

"Still holding out on me?" he whispered, lips brushing your ear. "Let’s see how long that lasts."

Then his hands gripped tighter, and he moved—a slow, devastating roll of his hips that had you sucking in a sharp breath. You felt the shape of him pressed firmly against you, the sheer heat of him burning through the layers between you both.

And then, just to be cruel, he stilled.

You let out an involuntary sound of frustration, which only made his grin widen. "Oh, what’s that?" he teased, rolling his hips just slightly, barely giving you anything. "Getting impatient, are we?"

You gritted your teeth, refusing to play into it.

His breath ghosted over your ear, smug and infuriating. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?" His hand slid down, teasing at the edge of your waistband, making heat curl low in your stomach. "Or am I gonna have to make you say it?"

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body alive, burning with the heat of him. Your pride screamed at you to hold out just a little longer, to refuse him one last time.

But then he rocked against you again, the friction sending sparks up your spine, and every ounce of stubbornness melted right out of you.

"Fuck," you muttered, barely more than a breath. "Please."

Noel chuckled, dragging his lips over your shoulder. "There she is."

The moment that single word fell from your lips, his control snapped. His fingers curled into the waistband of your clothes, yanking them down with a rough impatience that sent a shiver racing through you. His trousers quickly followed, ending up in a pile on the floor.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as he pressed against you again, now with nothing between you. The heat of him, how hard he already was, it made your stomach twist in anticipation. But instead of giving you what you were desperate for, he dragged the moment out, hands roaming over your bare skin, taking his time.

"You feel that?" he murmured, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel the full length of him pressing against you, the slow friction making your breath catch. "That’s what you’ve been fighting, sweetheart. Tell me—was it worth it?"

You barely had time to shudder before he reached back, guiding himself against you, teasing, just barely pressing in before retreating again.

You shifted, pushing back against him, but his grip tightened immediately, holding you in place. "Ah, ah," he taunted, fingers still digging into your hips. "You finally beg for it, and now you think you’re in charge?"

You opened your mouth to snap something back—maybe something sharp, maybe something desperate, you weren’t even sure—but before you could, he thrust inside you in one smooth, deep motion.

The air left your lungs in a sharp, broken gasp.

"There you go." he muttered, his voice a little rougher now.

He barely gave you a moment to adjust before he set a brutal pace, dragging out only to slam back in, the force of it driving you further into the mattress. The sounds of skin against skin, breathless, ragged gasps, and the creak of the bed quickly were the only things filling the space between you.

You fisted the sheets, struggling to hold onto even a shred of composure, but Noel was relentless. His fingers curled around your jaw, tilting your head back slightly. "Listen to yourself" he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "Tried so hard to act like you didn’t want this. And now you’re dripping for me."

The humiliation only made the heat in your belly coil tighter.

As if sensing it, Noel let out a low chuckle. "You like that, don’t you?" He drove into you harder, just to hear the little choked noise that escaped your throat. "Fuck, you’re taking me so well."

His other hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive spot between your legs. The second he touched you, you clenched harder around him, and Noel groaned, sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you.

"Shit," Noel rasped, his pace stuttering for half a second before he caught himself. "Filthy fuckin’ thing, aren’t you?"

His grip on your hips was bruising, each snap of his hips knocking you further into the mattress, dragging another broken sound from your throat. You couldn’t even think, couldn’t do anything but take it, your body molded to his will, wrecked under the sheer force of him.

And he knew it.

"Where’s all that attitude now, huh?" His voice was tinged with mockery, as his hand smoothed up the curve of your spine, just for a moment, just long enough to make you think he might show some mercy.

Then he fisted his hand into your hair and yanked.

A sharp gasp ripped from your lips as your head was wrenched back, the burn at your scalp sending a jolt straight through you. Your back arched instinctively, pressing you closer against him, the new angle making you whimper.

"That’s more like it," Noel murmured, his grip in your hair tightening as he used it to pull you back against him, making you feel every inch of him sinking even deeper.

His other hand slid up your throat, fingers pressing just enough to make your pulse hammer under his touch.

"You like when I handle you like this, don’t you?" he muttered, voice a low rasp against your ear.

He loosened his grip on your throat just enough for you to speak, but your words failed you. All you could do was let out a broken, pleading sound.

Noel groaned, his fingers flexing around your throat like he felt the way you clenched around him. "Fuck, you’re gonna make me come just with these sweet desperate moans love."

He wrenched your head back a bit further, forcing your spine into a deeper arch, forcing you to take him exactly how he wanted. Every thrust was rough, deliberate, his hips slamming against you hard enough to bruise. Your body had no choice but to follow, every nerve ending alight, a coil of unbearable tension winding tighter and tighter in your core.

"No more remarks? No more telling me to fuck off?" he taunted, breath hot against your cheek.

Your fingers scrambled for purchase against the sheets, your mind a haze of pleasure and frustration. You wanted to say something, wanted to bite back just to spite him, but he was wrecking you, and you could barely form a single coherent thought.

So instead, you just whimpered his name.

"Fuck, that’s it," he rasped, voice wrecked. "You gonna come for me, sweetheart? You gonna fall apart just like this, with my cock buried inside you?"

His fingers dipped lower again, rubbing against your clit in tight, unrelenting circles, the pace of his thrusts turning ragged, desperate. The coil inside you twisted tighter, pleasure crashing over you in waves until you could barely breathe.

"You close?" he taunted, yanking your head back again, making sure you felt every single inch of him. "I can feel it, sweetheart, feel you gripping me so fuckin’ tight. Just let go. Come for me."

Your body locked up, pleasure blinding, white-hot and overwhelming as it crashed over you in wave after wave. You were dimly aware of your own broken cries, of the way your walls clenched around him like a vice, but nothing existed beyond the pure bliss of it.

Noel groaned, voice strangled, as he fucked you through it, dragging out every last shudder, his pace turning frantic. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips slamming against yours one last time before he buried himself deep with a low, wrecked curse.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the sharp, uneven rhythm of your breathing.

Noel was still draped over you, his weight grounding, his skin hot where it pressed against yours. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. It was like neither of you wanted to be the first to break whatever fragile thing had settled between you.

Eventually, he exhaled, a deep, satisfied sound, before rolling onto his side, taking you with him. His arm hooked around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his chest rising and falling against your back.

"Well," he murmured, voice hoarse, teasing, but softer than before. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You huffed a breath, still too dazed to formulate a proper response. He felt the way you relaxed against him, how you didn’t immediately shove him away.

A quiet beat passed before he spoke again, voice low but sincere.

"Didn’t think you’d actually let me touch you like that."

You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing over his forearm where it rested against your stomach. "Didn’t think I’d want you to," you admitted.

He made a sound—half amusement, half something thoughtful. "And now?"

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the question.

There was no point in denying it, not now.

"I do want you to now, but you’re still a mug." you muttered.

Noel chuckled, low and lazy, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your shoulder.

You turned slightly in his hold, just enough to meet his gaze. He was already watching you, eyes half-lidded.

"Maybe we should stop pretending we hate each other," you said, voice softer now, more thoughtful.

Noel’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Oh, love," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering at your cheek. "I never hated you."

Your heart stumbled.

He let the words settle, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw, before he smirked. "Just really, really wanted to shut you up."

You rolled your eyes, but the bite was gone, replaced by something warm. "And what do you want now?"

His expression turned serious—just for a second. Then, he tugged you closer, pressing his mouth against yours, slow and lingering.

"You," he murmured against your lips. "Think I always have."

____________________________________________

oh who doesn't love some slight enemies to lovers, thanks to whoever suggested this xx

[celestialgallaghers]

White Mustang

First part of a short series I’m working on YAY. This is just the set up so no smut in this one but I PROMISE there will be later <3

Saturday | Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday

Summary: You were younger then, and it was only a crush. Something harmless born in the long hours of a studio summer. But now Noel’s here, newly divorced and quieter then you remember, sharing a house on your family’s holiday. He’s more distant, harder to read, and somehow even more gorgeous with age. Suddenly the feelings you thought had faded are back in full force. But he’s still off limits… isn’t he?

Word count: 2.2k

Prelude—2014

You’d only just finished uni. Following in your fathers footsteps as a sound engineer. You’d been hovering on the fringes of the music industry, unsure of your place in it, until your dad offered to let you shadow him for the summer. You’d jumped at the chance.

You weren’t naive. Opportunities like this were rare. If you were going to be taken seriously, you had to prove you weren’t just someone's daughter tagging along for a summer lark.

But there was another layer of pressure you hadn’t anticipated. The artist your dad was working with was none other than Noel Gallagher. That alone was enough to make you feel completely out of your depth. If you fucked up, that was it. You’d never live it down. 

Now, standing outside the studio door with clammy palms and a racing heart, you couldn’t quite name the feeling twisting in your stomach. Maybe it was the weight of expectation. Maybe it was the sheer nerve of wanting to prove yourself in a space where women, especially young women, were still fighting to be heard. Or maybe it had something to do with him.

You exhaled and pushed the door open.

Inside, your dad and Noel were hunched over a screen, mid conversation. You hovered in the doorway, unsure of how to announce yourself, until your dad looked up and grinned.

“Oh, there you are, darling,” he said, waving you in. “Noel, this is my daughter.”

Noel glanced up and your stomach dropped. His eyes were sharper than you’d expected. Intense. Then he smiled, and his face softened in a way that made it hard to look away.

“Ah, so this is who I’ve been hearing about,” he said, standing to shake your hand. “Lovely to finally meet you.”

You cringed inwardly, already imagining whatever embarrassing stories your dad had shared, but kept your face neutral. His hand was warm, slightly calloused. You could only hope yours wasn’t too sweaty.

“Yeah. Just finished uni. Trying to get my foot in the door,” you managed.

He chuckled, releasing your hand. “That so? Well, we’re glad to have you. Your old man’s been raving about you. Can’t wait to see what you’re made of.”

Your cheeks burned, but you forced a smile. “Promise I won’t get in the way. Just here to observe and learn.”

“No better way to do it,” he said. “But don’t expect us to go easy on you just ’cause of who your dad is. If you want to learn, you’ve got to get your hands dirty.”

Your dad chuckled and nudged you gently. You nodded, heart still racing, then turned your gaze back to the soundboard, trying to study it.

He gave you the grand tour. You followed him and Noel through the rooms, absorbing the layout, the gear, the atmosphere. Your dad tossed out tips, instructions, bits of technical wisdom, and you tried your best to commit every word to memory. But occasionally your gaze would drift towards Noel as he tossed in anecdotes. You liked hearing him talk about normal things. It made him feel more real. Less like a name from the tabloids, more like a person.

When the tour ended, your dad stepped away to take a call, leaving you and Noel alone in the hallway. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed loosely.

“So,” he said, “what do you think of the place?”

You smiled. “Honestly? Bit surreal. Feels strange to actually be in a studio instead of just reading about them.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Feels glamorous until you’ve spent twenty straight hours in one room hearing the same guitar part loop over and over. Still, when it all comes together…it’s magic. That bit never gets old.”

You nodded slowly. “I want to feel that. The magic part.”

He held your gaze. “You will. If you’re serious about this and stick it out, it’ll come. And when it does, you’ll be hooked.”

Before you could respond, your dad reappeared. “Right. Let’s get to work.”

That was the start of everything.

The days blurred into weeks. You settled into a rhythm and slowly, you carved out a space for yourself. You watched. Learned. Listened more than you spoke.

Sometimes Noel would catch your eye and instead of brushing you off, he’d invite you in.

“What d’you think?” he’d ask, spinning slightly in his chair to face you.

At first, you stumbled through your answers, not wanting to offend him in any way. But he always listened. And when he agreed with you, he’d flash a grin and say, “Nice one.”

You’d spend the rest of the day trying not to flush with pride.

Bit by bit, the nerves faded. You started holding his gaze instead of looking away. You began to see him not just as a rockstar, but the person beneath. He was funny. Charming. A bit cheeky, but genuine. 

The crush crept in before you could stop it. Watching him work, seeing the softer side to him as he laid down a track, how his eyes would spark when something finally clicked. You were doomed from the start.

It was harmless really. A silly, one sided thing. A product of too many hours in a small space with someone magnetic. You’d never act on it. He was married. You’d met his wife once. She was lovely. And he clearly adored her.

You weren’t delusional. But sometimes, when he sat a little too close, when the banter tipped just slightly into flirtation—you’d wonder. Just for a moment. If maybe there was a spark. One small enough to be dangerous.

One of those moments came when your dad stepped out and left you in charge. The album was nearly done, just a few finishing touches left, and he wanted you to run things solo for a bit.

You were fiddling with some settings, trying to trust your gut. Failing miserably. Every decision felt too bold or too safe and you kept undoing your own changes.

“Leave it,” came Noel’s voice behind you.

You turned, startled. “Leave what?”

“That filter,” he said, stepping in closer. “It’s good. You’re overthinking it.”

“You think so?”

He gave a lazy shrug. “I know so.”

You hesitated. “I just… I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“You won’t,” he said, tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve got taste. Trust it.”

Your stomach fluttered. Stupid.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

He dropped into the seat beside you as you restarted the track. His presence was too much. Too close. You kept your eyes on the screen, trying not to read into the way his knee almost brushed yours. When the song ended, you glanced at him.

He gave a short nod. “Not half bad.” Then, noticing your hand hovering like you were waiting for permission, added, “Alright what d’you think needs changing?”

You bit your lip, hesitated, then tweaked the bass and nudged his vocals up just a touch. “It’s strong. I think it just needs a little more bite right here.”

Noel leaned in, peering at the screen with you. “Yeah,” he said, nodding again. “I see what you mean.”

He stayed close, his shoulder nearly brushing yours. His fingers reached across the screen as he pointed to another section. 

“Let’s tweak the equalizer there,” he said, voice low. “See how that sounds.”

You could barely hear him over your own pulse. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off him. The faint scent of his cologne. None of it should’ve made your breath catch like it did. But it did. 

His focus stayed on the screen, oblivious to the effect he was having on you, as he adjusted the sound, the music playing softly in the background. You shifted in your seat, becoming aware of just how much of an effect he was having on you. The pulsing heat that had settled between your thighs was unmistakable.

That was new. And it was pathetic. The way your body responded to nothing more than closeness.

God, you needed to get laid. That was all this was. You were clearly touch starved and now your brain was confusing proximity with intimacy.

You were already planning which pub to hit after work when his voice broke through your thoughts.

“Y’alright?”

You blinked, cheeks warm. “Yeah. Sorry. Think I’m gonna head out a bit early today, actually.”

His brows lifted in faint surprise. You rarely left early.

“Something up?”

“Just drinks with some girlfriends,” you said quickly, forcing a casual tone. “Been cooped up in this studio too long. Think I need to hang out with people my own age for once.” You added a weak laugh, as if that would explain everything.

He laughed. “Sick of spending all your time with old gits like me, then?”

You smiled, gathering your things. “Nah, you’re alright. Just need a proper night out.”

“Fair enough,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You should enjoy yourself. You’re young.”

And that’s what you did.

You danced. Drank. Let loose. Ended up in a stranger’s bed. It wasn’t romantic or meaningful, but it gave you the release you so clearly needed.

Come Monday, you returned to the studio bleary eyed, craving tea. Noel was already in the kitchenette, leaning against the counter and waiting on the kettle.

“Morning,” he said.

“Mornin’.”

“Good weekend?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yours?”

He shrugged. “S’alright. Nothing too exciting.”

You nodded, rifling through tea bags, but felt his gaze linger. 

“You alright?” he asked, tone unreadable.

 You blinked. “Yeah. Why?”

“Dunno. You look tired.”

You glanced at him sharply. “Cheers.”

He smirked. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart kicked anyway.

“Long weekend,” you muttered, reaching for a mug.

He tilted his head, then nodded to your neck.

“What’s that?” he asked, voice dipping into something amused. 

You blinked. “What’s what?”

He nodded again. “That.”

You tugged your hair forward, cheeks flaming.

Shit.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

He didn’t drop it. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased. “Looks like a love bite to me.”

You stiffened, arms crossing, embarrassment quickly bleeding into defensiveness. “Yeah? So?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, the grin still there but softened. “Alright. Just making an observation.”

“Yeah, well, it’s none of your business,” you snapped, sharper than intended.

His smile faded slightly. “Didn’t say it was. Just… be careful, yeah?”

The moment stretched too long. The kettle whistled, and you moved to pour your tea with more focus than necessary. “I can handle myself.”

Then, quieter, “Just don’t say anything to my dad, alright?”

He nodded. “Course not.”

You were quieter than usual that day. The tension hadn’t gone away. If anything it was worse now. It was as if your body, freshly reminded of how good the touch of another person felt, had become traitorous. Every glance Noel threw your way now carried the risk of some twisted fantasy springing to life in your mind. You hated it. Craved it.

You were slightly embarrassed at how you’d overreacted. You’d projected your frustration—at yourself, your crush—onto him like it was his fault for seeing something you hadn’t tried hard enough to hide. Maybe a small part of you had wanted him to see.

You kept your hair down for the rest of the week. Always tugging at it, adjusting it, trying to pretend it wasn’t about him. But you felt him noticing. Or maybe that was just your imagination. Either way, it was impossible to think clearly.

By the time the mark had faded, so had the weird, charged silence between you. Things settled. He joked with you again. Gave you space when you needed it. You followed his lead. But that heat low in your stomach never quite cooled. And you kept wondering what it would’ve felt like if it had been his lips on your skin. His teeth.

You hated how easily the thought came.

The album was nearly done. The mood in the studio shifted to something celebratory. On the final day, Noel pulled you into a hug, unprompted, catching you off guard.

His body was warm against yours. You tensed automatically, breath catching. Then just as quickly, he pulled back, clapping you on the back like it hadn’t meant anything.

“Thanks for all your help. Couldn't've done it without you.”

You laughed, trying to tamp down the rush of heat to your cheeks. “I really didn’t do much. But it’s an incredible album. Really. Congrats.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” He pointed at you, dead serious now. “You’ve got a good ear. Real good. You’re gonna go far.”

You blinked. It wasn’t just a pat on the head compliment. He meant it.

And for a second, you couldn’t help but look at him. Really look. At the man who, all this time, had treated you like someone worth listening to. Like your thoughts mattered. Like you weren’t a temporary fixture in the room. He saw you.

Something in your chest tightened.

“Thanks,” you said, quieter now.

His gaze lingered. Just a second too long. Not overt, but enough to make your stomach twist. There was a softness in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. Unreadable, and maybe not even meant for you. And then he nodded, like he’d said everything he meant to say, and turned away.

You watched him go, some part of you aching a little. Not for anything that had happened, but for everything that hadn’t. Everything that couldn’t.

You were going to miss him. More than you probably should.

[oacest]

Liam, Dec 1999

Patsy will have had the baby by the time people read this so everything will change, but right now what do you do with your day when you're not being a rock star?

A normal day? Get up about seven o'clock now. Downstairs, feed me cats. (Lights up) Then chase them round the house. I creep up on them, (mimes sliding along a wall to acorner, pounces) 'Woooerrrr!!!" and they go, "Shee-it!" and skid about the gaff. I do that for about an hour, gets me exercise in, me blood pumping and that. Then I sit down and watch The Big Breakfast.

About ten, James'll get up and we have a fight over the TV. So l'll watch cartoons with him. Then I'll have a shower. Go for lunch with Patsy about twelve. Do a bit of shopping, see what they've got on the racks. Dinner Chinese. Play me guitar in the garden. Do the neighbours' heads in. Put James to bed about nine o'clock. Come down and watch TV -- I like a Western, get right into them. Talk and off to bed... and then fuckin' wa-hay!

I haven't done a gig for almost two years and I've only started to come down in the last four months. That's why I'd always end up down the pub and in trouble. I really wanted to change, but half of it is I have to because I'm really looking forward to having the kid around a nice environment, not some maniac, me in and out to the pub. It'll be interesting to see how everything goes for you on tour.

I'll find out soon. But the kid and Patsy and James'll be with me. They'll come out two weeks at a time and we'll never leave it longer than two weeks apart. Noel and Meg are doing the same. It'll be fuckin' nice, do a gig, then see me family and go for a stroll. It'll be beautiful.

Might even get a smile out of me on stage, you never know. Jokes between songs. I'm getting happy. I mean, I have been happy, but I've had happiness and moments of fuckin' (points downwards). When I'm happy I go and fuck it up. But now I'm sort of getting in the groove of this happiness. How's your relationship with Noel?

The best it's ever been. Stronger.

We're fuckin' listening to each other and we've got time for each other. Which we've never had. We couldn't sit in the same room five years ago, let alone try to produce an album. He used to say to the press that I didn't give a fuck about Oasis because of me drinking, so I thought, Fuck it, I'll prove to you that I'm 190 per cent into this band and this album and if it means stopping drinking, so be it. I've done it and he thought I couldn't 'cos he was going, "Have you had a drink?" "Not for a couple of months." "Yeah right - you'll be back on the bottle." "No, not me, mate." So I'm not drinking and, in a way, he's going, "Bastard!"

And I've got a song on the album -- that's a change. It's called Little James. For our James. It's really naive. But it's beautiful. It's big- I played it to Noel and he went, "Fuckin' top, I'd buy it." I wanted to play it acoustic, but he went and got the band around it and it's a big fuckin' tune now. That was a breakthrough For you, getting a song accepted by Noel.

I was pleased that he'd fuckin' listen to it and I'm pleased that it turned him on. That's good for me, that gives me confidence. But I've got a lot to learn. There's no point in going up to Noel and going, I've got this little bit of a melody and... Well, I used to do that and he'd say, Look, come back when you've finished the song, then I'll give it the time of day. He insisted I do it on me own. And that's the way it should be. So when something amazing hits me again, I'll quietly creep up on him maybe he'll [transcription tragically cuts out here]. Have you always itched to prove yourself asa songwriter?

You always want to fuckin' better yourself. I always wanted to learn how to play a guitar for my own peace of mind, just so I could get out all that shit in there (points to his head), that frustration. Write words down and get what's in there out here. But I couldn't do it. Now I want to keep writing.

(X)

[bloos-bloo]

Welcome to the circus but make it make SENSE

TOYBOX AU!!! ITS REAL!! >:D

What is the ToyBox AU? ToyBox is a circus AU that’s HEAVILY inspired by Digital Circus, Circus Monster, and Hypno’s lullaby! I highly suggest looking into those things if you’re not aware of them-

THIS IS YOUR WARNING BTW- THERE ARE MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND TORTURE

---

The circus is held in the lands of the Old Faith every few years, it used to be a yearly event. But after the new ownership- the circus suffered greatly. There are less guests every year- it's constantly losing money, there's hardly any performers. So, how is this issue fixed?

Easy. :)

Starting off with the Ring Master! The Jester! Silly little guy! Dirty kidnapper

Emery’s the beloved Jester in the circus. She makes sure everything’s in order before the next show. She’s been doing this for a very long time, seeing many guests come in and out… but what caught her attention was a certain black cat.

She had to have him- he always smiled and laughed at her performance- she needed him.

PATHETIC WET CAT IN QUESTION-

Narinder was a regular at the circus- (regular meaning biyearly-) It was his favorite past time to do with his siblings. But- what was creepy was the way the jester would stare at him…

Narinder doesn’t remember how he was recruited, but he’s always near Emery.. why? He can’t even tell you- something about it makes it hard to think of for long periods of time

Leshy’a such a little guy in this AU!

(Emery was scared of how tall he was- so why not take that away! Seeing him small was so funny!) His hands act like his eyes, cause- nobody knows where his eyes are. Not even him- Plus the snake-like creatures are very smart, they keep him out of trouble.

It’s hard to see during routine since his only way of vision is blurry He tries to ignore the way Emery stares at him when he gets too close to Narinder... Why does Narinder look so scared anyway? Is there something going on? Where is the exit? Oh- his act is up next.

Heket was hard to deal with. She’s loud- she has muscle- and she looked like she was going to kill Emery-

It was easy to make her stand down though, just a few quick words and string! Nothing too crazy. Heket usually keeps her distance from Emery, but with her getting closer to Narinder and always sticking with Leshy. She had to protect him in some way or another and keep Shamura preoccupied…

Emery made her a greeter so she wouldn't interact with her siblings (and have the guest ignore her pleas)

Noel’s Lament looking ass-

Kallamar was the hardest to convert- still is the same. They’re always crying about something, leaving him with a ton of conflicted emotions. She’s an acrobat and silk aerialist, but with her constantly covered in needles- it makes her job a bit harder.

Emery hates Kal- for some reason, they never share a conversation or a moment alone. She’s always avoided him- was he aware…? He must be. He cries about his old life every night...

Emery did have to pin his ears back after he overheard a lot of stuff though…

LITTLE BABYYYY- WAHHHH-

Shamura’s mind is very much broken in this AU- except it was Emery fault. They knew too much! She had to!

..Right?

Anyways- Shamura is very aware of what’s going on. They can see through Emery just a bit- but it’s hard to do anything when she takes their key, or even beat them. The cracks on their face represent each beating- Emery hates Shamura, but they can’t do anything about them besides make it harder for them to live around the grounds-

ANYWAYS- a very basic rundown of ToyBox! :D I have a few other doodles planned for this AU- and I’m so excited to actually write it- YIPPEEEE. There's nothing sinister going on here!! :D Happy fun time little AU!!

[deadvnstudios]

oh no! i got into a argument with the romanceables and they said something so stupid that upset me! how do they apologize? :3

"H-hey. Can you just... come to my room tonight? I… I have something I want to show you."

Upon entering Tempest's room later that evening, you're immediately struck by its uncharacteristic cleanliness and the candles meticulously arranged along his shelves. They cast a warm glow over Tempest, seated on his bed with legs crossed, cradling a guitar in his lap. He proceeds to serenade you with a song, personally composed for you, by him. The performance is brief, encompassing only a single verse, and as the final note fades, Tempest asks you to forgive him.

"Oopsy-daisy, baby's breath. Iris-pectfully apologize. Please forget-me-not… and uhm… Look. Bad puns aside, what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry for upsetting you."

The morning after your fight, you find Vein lingering outside your room, a vibrant bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hands. Before you can react, the flowers are crumpled against your chest in a crushing embrace as Vein pulls you into a whirlwind hug. The world blurs as she spins you round and round, leaving you with only two choices:

a) vomit from dizziness or

b) accept her sincerest apology

"Fine, I messed up. Happy? Now pick your apology – but you only get one, got it?"

Insisting that you would be unable to sleep until she apologized, Mary storms into your room in the dead of night, jarring you from sleep. Taking advantage of your grogginess, she pins you to your bed and fans out the thin, crumpled slices of paper clutched in her hand. She orders you to select one. On each slip of paper, a different IOU is written:

IOU a full day of doing whatever the hell you want to do

IOU a movie night where we watch all of your favorite trash movies

IOU a letter detailing all of your least annoying traits

IOU a homemade dinner of your choosing (...but cooked by Noel, he owes me)

"Darling dearest, how much longer will you leave me to linger in the hall? My night will be frigid, unbearably bothersome as I shiver on my lonesome without you by my side….could you find it in your heart to forgive a fool? At least one foolishly in love?”

You sigh as Mona continues to dramatically plead at your bedroom door, talons tapping incessantly against the wood as her anxieties begin to emerge. As you finally open the door, she rushes in and nearly tackles you to the ground. Trapped within her hold she noisily smooches over the entirety of your face, cradling you like you’re something precious. Irreplaceable. You two will have a serious talk in the morning, but you’ll spend the rest of the night tangled together, cuddling under the sheets as she whispers into your ear every reason she fell for you to begin with.

“Beloved, the affliction of affection ails me; my world becoming insipid and dull in your absence. In having wounded you, I have wounded myself. I will eagerly bleed my heart dry in repentance if it can’t beat beside yours. I would give you all of myself to see you smile at me once more. Please, return to me tomorrow. I miss you.”

The note Sorin slipped under your door is littered with a stray tear mark here and there. Your heart aches as the the crooked letters, scribbled on hurriedly, bleed across the page from the dampness. When you go to find him the next morning, Sorin eagerly intertwines their fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles as they beg for your pardon and your company. The two of you plan to take a nap in the sunlit garden, but you have to silence Sorin with a kiss as he prattles on, praising your character.

”Wait…I…please. Hear me out.”

Noel heaves against the doorframe, one arm holding open the door you’d planned to shove close. Though his ears burn in shame, he requests that you join him that evening for dinner. In his room. Alone. When you arrive you’re taken aback by the makeshift candlelit dinner set up on a picnic blanket on the floor. Noel sheepishly lights a candle, letting you know that he’s prepared your favorite. He doesn’t want to talk while the two of you are hangry.

[iwantmenicanthave]

𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓍. 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒.

✿ summary: getting stranded at a party might not be the best thing ever, but meeting the famous french striker under mistletoe is definitely a plus

✿ ft. noel noa

sitting alone at the bar at a christmas party you weren't invited to wasn't the best feeling in the world. your best friend, who used you as her work partner's plus one, had left you, preferring to "work." the poor athletes were almost running from her if they saw her, leaving her to wallow in the corner without you.

the non-alcoholic drinks you were forced to consume as the designated driver weren't exactly helping you pass the time, only making your bladder feel smaller and smaller. getting up from the bar, you ventured deeper into the party to find the bathroom.

as you walked, your eyes couldn't help but wander around, trying to find your friend, but to no avail. you slowly remembered what happened right before you entered the party.

"[y/n]! you have to keep your eyes open!"

"what? take a breath-"

"i can't! not when noel noa is here!" she frantically flicked her head from side to side, scanning the empty streets like he was going to appear like magic. 

“that’s the famous striker, right?”

"only the number one striker in the world! you have to find him and call me. if i see him here and interview him, i could get that promotion." she sounded hopeful, a smile on her face, but it dropped, her rbf shining through her happy persona when she saw your skeptical expression.

"pwease [y/n]~" she grabbed your hands and begged, almost getting down on her knees. 

“ok, ok! i’ll help you find this guy. just please get off the floor. someone could have puked on that.”

"thank you, [y/n]!" her bone-crushing hug knocked the wind out of you. once that bodyguard let you in, she ran around like a chicken without a head, trying to find the mystery man. too bad you didn't know what the famous striker looked like. you didn't know his nationality or team; you just knew his name and the position he played. not very helpful.

the tinkling of martini glasses and the sound of heels across the marble floors echoed across the room. popping champagne bottles, squeals, screams, and forced laughter would occasionally pipe up, always sounding the same. a massive christmas tree filled with tinsel, ornaments, lights, and anything else you could imagine decorated the room perfectly, lighting up the space and almost brushing the towering ceilings. you felt like an ant in the room, as if the room knew you didn't belong here.

the bathroom line felt like eternity, like when you were younger and had a nightmare, that stupid clock ticking every second going on until you finally fell asleep under your blankets. soon the line dwindled and dwindled down until you finally could get in and out. you dried your hands on the air dryer and shook your hands to get any remaining water off as you walked out the door.

now, you have nothing to do. you didn't work for this company, hell, you didn't even know what they did. everyone here looked rich and reeked of money. at least when you were in line for the bathroom, you had a purpose. but now you were just standing there. you felt like a ghost, people passing through you, not even acknowledging your existence.

you just wanted to go back to the bar; who cared what look that bartender would give you. so that's what you did, walking past women with candy cane red lips and men who smelled like more than you would ever make in a lifetime. suits and dresses that seemed so foreign to you.

but out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend in that velvet low-cut tight dress on the second-floor mezzanine. she was talking to some expensive-looking man with a girl probably half his age on his arm; she was putting on that fake smile and laugh.

she had left you for a solid two and a half hours; you were going to hang out with someone. and that someone was going to be her.

so you made your way to the luxurious stairs, cascading velvety carpets that could rival the British monarchs. you excused yourself when you bumped into someone and finally reached the stairs, some men coming down them.

while passing a rather tall and muscular man, one of his friends whistled and laughed at the man who paused, along with you. both of you turned to see his friends; the one whistling and giggling looked way too drunk to be going anywhere near stairs. the man was holding onto a bland-looking one with blue eyes who looked rather nervous, trying to steady the swaying one.

you shot him a confused glance, your eyebrows raising in confusion, before turning your attention to the man standing beside you. his head was tilted upward, his gaze fixated on an arrangement of ferns- mistletoe, delicately suspended above. the soft glow from twinkling fairy lights adorned the surroundings.

in that moment, realization dawned upon you, and your eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and understanding. the air around you felt harder to inhale. you instinctively took a step back, caught off guard by the situation. however, the man beside you moved quicker than you’ve ever seen, his eyes widening in concern.

time seemed to slow as his arms encircled you, preventing any further descent down the stairs. the touch was both reassuring and electrifying. as you looked up into his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth that lingered. it felt so cliche. 

"are you alright?" his voice was filled with genuine concern, and you could feel yourself relax into his arms with those words.

but even with his words, your mind trailed off, going to admire him. what was he? a model? his cologne smells expensive, like every other perfume and cologne here, but at the same time it was distinct. there was an underlying uniqueness, a grounding minimalism that set it apart. you couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it held an allure that was nothing like you ever felt before.

you felt gross, disgusted even at what you were doing, taking him in like this, memorizing the details- his scent, the curve of his lips. god, you felt like a pervert. you chided yourself, feeling a twinge of discomfort at your own actions.

"i'm fine... sorry about that," you stammered, breaking the spell of your silent observations. awkwardness settled in, magnified by the awareness that his friends, the blonde one with a sly smirk and the black-haired one appearing uneasy, were keenly observing the exchange. your gaze flickered between them, questioning the dynamics of the trio.

"it’s fine. as long as you’re alright." the moment ended with him helping you back onto your feet, looking you over to double-check if you weren't lying.

"it's fine. as long as you're alright," he reassured, gracefully helping you back onto your feet. his lingering concern painted a genuine sincerity across his features, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of gratitude. as the moment concluded, his eyes scanned over you once more, ensuring your well-being. 

“don’t forget-” hick “to kiss you two,” the drunk man laughed hard, almost falling off of the bland one's shoulder who grabbed him quickly.

"don't forget-" a hiccup interrupted the drunken man's proclamation, “to kiss you two,” he abruptly erupted into laughter, teetering dangerously on the edge of his bland companion's shoulder. 

who the hell was this guy? your life wasn't some circus to watch, forcing you to kiss this random stranger.

"i'm sorry about him," the boy apologized, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and genuine remorse. "come on, let's go." he attempted to drag the blonde one down the stairs, who continued to whine about wanting to witness some "action." eventually, the duo disappeared, leaving you and the intriguing white-haired man alone on the stairs.

the silence that followed carried a unique tension, the remnants of an awkward encounter mingling with the loud ambiance of the surroundings. The mistletoe above seemed to cast a soft glow, as if nature itself was conspiring against you two.

"that guy’s something," you remarked, breaking the quietude with a light-hearted tone, attempting to diffuse the lingering discomfort. The white-haired man offered a wry smile, his eyes holding a subtle amusement that hinted at shared bemusement.

“so… why are you here?” you ask him to try to prolonged the conversation for as long as possible.

"They're organizing this celebration for my team."

“you’re team?” you ask a little confused.

“Bastard München” he responds curtley.

Realization finally dawns on you, and you recognize the man in front of you.

“are you- are you noel noa?” you stammered, feeling like some teenage girl. you didn’t even know much about this guy, but your friend went on and on about him. you always tuned her out, but she seemed so passionate about him.

“kiss! smoochie smoochie time~!”

“kaiser!” 

"get-" a loud grunting noise left the blonde, and a squawking noise left the other, "off of me, isagi!" they struggled against each other, arms reaching out to try and push them off each other.

“i thought they left,” you tried to laugh but when you looked back at the famous man in front of you, you stopped. his face almost seemed blank with a tinge of surprise if you could even call it that.

“it can’t be helped,” he sighed, his voice carrying a gentle undertone that resonated with unspoken emotions. as he reached up, his fingers delicately traced the outline of your face, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his eyes, a reflection of emotions too deep for words, held yours in a silent conversation.

a quiet pause lingered in the air, building anticipation, before he slowly leaned in. in that moment, time seemed to suspend, and the world around you faded away. 

his breath, warm against your skin, and as he closed the distance between you, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss starting with a tender press of lips. both of your arms remained at your sides not wanting to overstep the invisible boundary. even without hands, it was as if each touch was a gentle caress, a delicate deliberate pressure. the sensation was feather-light, a sweet brush of affection that spoke volumes in its subtlety. each movement was a caress, as if exploring the contours of your lips in a sweet, unhurried dance. it was the opposite of forceful, a slow, deliberate exploration, leaving a lingering warmth.

even when he pulled away, cheeks dusted pink, promising his manager would send you tickets to the next match, you could still smell that expensive cologne after he left.

[mediacircuspod]

Holy Ghosts Buddy Cop AU Part 4

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | … | 5 (coming soon)

(They take over renting Arthur’s old office and use it as a home base.)

Oscar, holding his head after reading a passage from an eldritch tome: These texts. It’s like they’re built to break the mind. My skull throbs when I read these names.

Noel: Oh shit. Give it here, kid.

Oscar: Detective. Did you not just hear what I said.

Noel: Just give it. *uses his hand to make a grabbing gesture*

Oscar: *rolls tired eyes and hands it to him*

Noel: *reads easily*

Oscar: …

Noel: *oblivious to Oscar staring*

Oscar: … is this not… hurting you?

Noel, looking up: Oh! Nah… The king scrambled me up there so much I figured this would be fine. *smiling ruefully* Turns out I was right.

Oscar: So you’re cursed book proof?

Noel: Yeah, I guess

Oscar: Letting himself be jealous for approximately 5 seconds before pulling out three more books and opening them to pages that made his brain scream and pulling out a notepad: What does this say?

*

(Noel and Oscar driving down the road to lake Crawford.)

Oscar, looking up from the current bestiary he’s been studying: Do you think Daniel expected us to give his car back after leaving Addison?

Noel: For sure, he seems like a tight-laced guy. Probably expected it back a month ago.

Oscar: ….

Noel: ….

Oscar: ….

Noel: … I mean. He would definitely want us to have it while we search for Arthur. He probably doesn't even miss it.

Oscar: *sighs*

*

(getting absolutely wrecked by a monster squid)

Noel, being tightly squeezed by a thick black tentacle: NOTHING IN THAT BOOK COVERED A FREAKING KRAKEN?????

Oscar, using an oar to try and pry the tentacle from Noel: I CAN’T CHOOSE WHAT’S IN THE BLOODY BOOK, NOEL!!!!

Noel, hysterically: IT JUST SEEMS LIKE THIS SHOULD BE IN THE BOOK, RIGHT???

*Oscar giving up on the oar and grabbing Noel’s gun from its holster. He shoots a full clip into the tendril and it lets go, retreating into the water.*

Noel, falling to his knees in the boat and heaving: holy shit… just… maybe it should have… something… about Krakens… right?

Oscar, holding out the gun handle first to Noel: I’ll be sure to lodge a complaint with the long dead madman who wrote it. *turns away to start rowing again*

Noel, whispering: shit.

Oscar, who can't row the boat alone as he literally has one arm: *gesturing to Noel’s oar*… are you?

Noel, nodding too quickly: YEAH. Yeah, of course. *grabs the oar*

_________________________________________

Tagged Peeps: @styrofoamdoor

[john-does-middle-finger]

Part 52 Live Finger Reaction

except i have patreon so i've listened to most of this already (y'all are NOT ready for the interlude) and also i forgot to start typing until several minutes in lol

SPOILERS FOR PART 52 BELOW

i'm so proud of arthur for catching on so quickly. side note---i love the moments in malevolent when arthur knows more about what's going on than john does despite john having their sight. just a neat flip when you look back on the earlier seasons

"why am i here??" me every day fr john

need me a woman who'll put maggots in me

that's right john open your third eye

thank you harlan for our monthly arthur whimpering podcast

OUGH I FORGOT HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS MOMENT WAS. THEM BOTH SEEING THE STARS. I BETTER SEE SO MUCH FUCKING FANART OF THIS.

okay john maybe making trains is hard...

okay hamilton

which one of you was the damn fool that shot him then mr. "i thought you were my purpose"

arthur in hell for homosexuality (too many hoes in New York)

oh there he goes falling again. all men are the same.

it was difficult to put the nightmare together

BUT IM ONLY HUMAN AFTER ALL!!!

oh arthur...you weren't there for that poll buddy...

i love how gentle john is with arthur sometimes

fr? ong? just like that? we're awake?

arthur...snookums...dont...

it's not a rock. it's a stone!

harlan thank you for your footstep sound effects and also more of arthur laughing

oh lilith...

quick headcanon that arthur can generally feel where john is and every now and then he'll lean against him for a moment of rest. anyway. pick up that toenail or whatever

go on arthur. that's a fragment of a god! you can change her! make her a new person! give her a new name! name it spike or some shit.

maybe it was on purpose?? considering...idk. likely not though unless lilith really is that good at acting

go on arthur collect your freaky fingers.

nuh uh john that was a great idea and an excellent vote

sopping wet cat antoine

damn arthur you really do doomed yaoi with every guy you meet. except the yaoi is minimal and the doom is maximal.

arthur...i love you for caring so much

"was i kind?" HARLAN WHEN I GET YOU.

"a friend's love can carry you through the worst of life's trials and tribulations" I KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, ARTHUR LESTER. side note can we get this man a middle name i want to use his full legal name for science purposes and also to yell at him

JOHN we just had an IMPORTANT and LOVING character death DO NOT EVEN BRING THIS UP.

SEE JOHN. EARNED IT. IF ONLY...well...y'know...it lasted...no rest for the wicked or whatnot.

THIS REVEAL GOT ME SO FUCKING BAD BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN "maybe the blackstone was the friends we made along the way" WAS RIGHT.

YORICK. OH, YORICK...yorick i'm so fucking sorry

hello arthur, apologies for the deception. kayne here, vsauce stone! idk man

watching the wager (song) get released after the full episode dropped on patreon was so fucking wild

^watching people say "i hope we see kayne again soon!" after knowing the ending of this episode. my pookies...my blorbos...my yoricks...

"oh lose the get up honey" bro fr said "you're not going out in that."

footstep sounds x 2

yorick you never did anything wrong and i forgive you for everything except there isn't even anything to forgive! YORICK MY MOST DEARLY BELOVED

fruit of my loins. buddy you are the fruit

i believe you yorick

LEAVE THAT LITTLE GUY ALONE

YORICK. MY SHAYLA. MY SHAYLA. IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RECOVER FROM THAT THE FIRST TIME. AND NOW AGAIN...oh my god...

listening to this on 2.5x speed is so funny. specifically because of kayne

me when im in a disguising my desperation competition and my opponent is kayne (im losing so bad)

arthur dont you ever fucking say that shit again.

KAYNE'S LAUGH IN 2.5x.

i was losing it at the description of the blackstone so fucking much

NOEL!!! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL! NOEL MY FUCKING GOAT RAHHHHH

this poll. this fucking poll. had me stressing so fucking hard.

oh the fanfics are going to go SO fucking hard with this new arthur lore.

kayne i love your painfully obvious ploy at emotional manipulation because you have no actual power

i am so happy the poll ended up with lilith. choosing hope and all that yknow, as much as i love kayne

benevolent canon

arthur. arthur no. arthur you know these promises won't be enough. arthur please. ARTHUR.

was? am? john, my most dearly beloved

kayne please don't make life with soaking wet bloody dogs

MY SHAYLA

but kayne what is joy if you know nothing else? ugh

god i remember tweaking out so fucking hard during this ending. my shaylas. my pookies. everything.

"i forgive you" arthur i love you. john i love you. kayne i love you but i will never forgive you. still love your zest for...not really life but yknow.

MY SHAYLA x3

i was so worried john was going to make another deal here and i'm so glad he didn't.

anyways

the interlude is so fun harlan i'm begging you to release it soon (preferably tomorrow) (as a post finals treat) (for me specifically) (please) (please) (i need to yap about it)

[gallashagger]

tipsy

—————————————————————————

—————————————————————————

your boyfriend notices you drunk at a party, and he feels obligated to take you in.

pre oasis • short fluff request • lowercase intended

—————————————————————————

arriving at the party with you under noel’s arm, you saw your friends and immediately darted away from him. he chuckled to himself as you laughed with your friends, and he went to retrieve drinks for you both.

minutes went by with you not by his side, and he began to worry. this was a big party, some posh divs and some people not even noel would want to associate with. those minutes turned into fifteen, which turned into thirty, which turned into an hour.

over an hour later, he finally saw you sitting on a couch. you were obviously drunk, your friends and random boys surrounding you, everyone sober except you. the sight made his blood boil. they were clearly getting you fucked up for their own enjoyment, and he wasn’t having it.

we marched up to the group and gently but surely grabbed your wrist. “hey love, we gotta get going.” he lifted you to your feet, speaking softly. “here, let’s set this down.” he took the red solo cup from your hand and set it on the coffee table.

the group surrounding you booed. “aww so sad, the vulnerable drunk teenager is leaving.” he said sarcastically. “i’ll be sure to tell this to your schools.” he smiled at the boys and turned around, walking you away and ignoring their protests.

he managed to get you outside and the cold weather hit you like a brick. noel instinctively took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. you put your arms through it and zipped it up, his warmth and scent comforting you.

“let’s get you home, yeah?” he took your hand and tried to walk but you wouldn’t move. “no! noel, i can’t go home!” you panicked. “my parents will kill me if i come home… drunk!” you badly whispered. noel smiled at your effort, but couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

he was mad, but not at you. at the people you called friends who targeted you and gave you god knows what. “i’ll take you to mine. that sound alright?” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you nodded.

you walked to his housewhich was luckily nearby, and only took a few minutes. “i’m just a little tipsy, it’s not that big of a deal.” you slurred as you walked up the steps to his door. “yeah, that’s why you have to lean on me to keep yourself balanced.” noel laughed. “you sarcastic bastard.” you muttered.

liam was out, and noel knew his mom was in bed so he wanted to be quiet, but he knew that was a long shot with you. you were already loud sober, and you were even louder drunk.

“okay, here we go!” noel said as he practically carried you to the couch, setting you down. “that was a fun party.” you spoke loudly as he slipped off your shoes. “i didn’t really see you, though.” you said frowning.

“you need water? a trash can?” he crouched down beside you. “i need you up on this body.” you smirked and gestured down at yourself. “yeah, you shouldn’t say that.. ever.” noel chuckled.

“you feel sick?” he asked and you shook your head. “can you stay with me?” you asked. “wasn’t planning on leaving.” you sat up making room for him to sit down, before laying your head in his lap. “i love you noel. you’re so good to me. even dealing with me when im off my head.” you rambled.

“i don’t know how you do it.” you added. noel shook his head, his fingers raking through your hair. “i don’t know how i do it either, love.” noel couldn’t shut his eyes until your breathing slowed and he knew for sure you were out.

the next morning, you woke up to your head pounding but luckily no nausea. you were alone but quickly registered noel in the kitchen.

“ah, she’s awake.” he smiled, making his way towards you and wrapping his arms around you after you walked in. “how you feeling?” he asked, huffing after you groaned in response. you took a seat at the table as he made you some tea.

“did i really say ‘i need you up on this body?’” you cringed as the memories of the night before came rushing back. you heard a laugh from behind you and your head whipped around to see noel’s mother walking into the kitchen.

your hand slapped your mouth and you looked to noel in embarrassment. “never let me drink again.” you hid your head in your hands, noel taking a seat beside you laughing. “liam is gonna have a field day with this one.” he joked, and you playfully smacked his arm.

—————————————————————————

this is rlly shit but i hope whoever requested it likes it — sorry i’ve been lacking yall 😞

[todays-just-a-daydream]

in absence of a reunion noel interview i'm going back to revisit the great gallagher thaw of late 2014/early 2015 to try to make some sense outta these strange reunion times we are in now.

i've been really curious about this time period for awhile and stockpiling posts with the intention of assembling them in some kind of chronological order. still not quite sure what i'm looking at but it's a bit like find the edge pieces of a puzzle and snapping them together for a frame. you can get a vague idea while understanding much of the pieces are missing to complete the picture. most notably noel is giving interviews at this time while liam is mostly out of the public eye entirely.

assembled them in the queue and looking at them in order now and getting a bit choked up by what we have. even factoring in the normal album press cycle, noel's interviews have noticeable outlier moments during this time. charting his uncharacteristically relaxed calm fondness to emotionally raw moments when mentioning liam, it does look like any attempt at a truce all goes south within a months time (mid february to mid march 2015). coincidence it’s when dead in the water is written and the chasing yesterday is released? of course it’s not lost on me it also is at a period of nostalgia with the 20th anniversaries of their first two albums and part of the buzz about a reunion driven by stone roses reunion. but in the course of the entire feud it sticks out as different. and suggests noel was more invested in a reconciliation than he’d ever be willing to admit.

queuing them up now. when they're done posting i'll link them to the chronological list below to access them easily.

—

2014/2015 gallagher timeline

2014 28 february: beady eye cancels coachella gig, manager splits

11 may: liam runs into noel (man city wins the league) 21 october: "we're on good terms." (video) 25 october: "beady eye are no longer." ?? october: "don't give up"

17 november: in the heat of the moment released (do the damage bside) 31 december: "i think liam should make a solo record"

2015 12 january: ballad of the mighty i released (revolution song bside) 4 february: "i’d write him a few songs. i've got a few songs lying around that he'd be good at singing." (also takes a dig at beady eye) 20 february: "[liam] sends me cheeky texts from time to time." (interview) 25 february: "we're alright. i'm a bit concerned that he's starting to grow facial hair....family is family, you don't have to patch it up do you?…blood is thicker than mud." (interview) 26 february: dead in the water writing 28 february: recording dead in the water live at RTÉ 2FM radio studios in dublin (after dying of the light which airs 2 march with a live interview)

2 march: chasing yesterday released 14 march: "keeping it in the family" lg tweet with nghfb pass 21 march: "you're already ruining my day talking about him" 24 march: "liam is a very angry man still and as long as he's angry we won't be friends i'm afraid" 2(?) may: "can't be arsed" + lg tweet goad 7-11 may: "busted" lg tweet (in response to AA interview)

11 may: riverman released (leave my guitar alone bside)

26 july: liam playing bold in a pub (video)

28 august: lock all the doors single (here’s a candle for your birthday cake bside)

21 september: noel wishing liam a happy birthday 5(?) december: "and maybe one day you know we will get back together" (video)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

The Christmas/New Years Masterlist

all my christmas/New Years themed fics in one place 😌

Updated: December 19th 2024

✨ = newest updates

Fic Ratings (read warnings in fic for details):

(G) General Audiences

(M) Mature

(E) Explicit: only suitable for adults

A Christmas Carol - Made in Colombia 

Nothing was the same since Escobar was gone. Javier didn’t want to be back, but he had no other choice. He was there to do a job and a job only. When a stake out went wrong and Javier ends up in a drug induced coma the three ghosts of Christmas show him what he was blind to see. (Mini Series, Javier Peña x fem reader; G)

How I met the King of Mandalore (without knowing it) 

AU: A business meeting after Christmas takes you to the small kingdom of Mandalore where you meet a handsome stranger at your hotel bar who does not only show you the beautiful town but a side of himself that made you fall for him in a matter of hours. What happens when you run into the same man on your mission to return a child you had run into on your tour through the palace the next day? Did you… accidentally sleep with the next King of Mandalore? (One Shot; Din Djarin x fem. reader; E)

Alone (with me) 

Christmas sometimes is a lonely affair. Until you find someone you can be alone with. (One Shot; Frankie Morales x fem. reader, G)

Alone (with you) 

You spend the week between Christmas and New Years getting to know Frankie better. (One Shot; Frankie Morales x fem. reader, G)

A walk in the woods 

Frankie talks you into taking a walk to the local farm to pick out a Christmas tree. (One Shot; Frankie Morales x fem. reader, G)

Roasted Almonds 

Almost getting knocked over by a handsome stranger on a christmas market might be the start of your personal Hallmark Movie experience. (One Shot; Marcus Pike x fem. reader, G)

New Years wishes 

After spending difficult six month without Marcus he surprises you for New Years Eve. (One Shot; Marcus Pike x fem. reader; G)

Lonely Christmas 

A storm that makes it impossible to leave the island, leaves you spend Christmas with your friend and boss Javi. (One Shot; Javi Gutierrez x fem. reader; G)

Cookie Kisses 

Dieter finds you baking cookies in your home after being away to shoot his series for months. (One Shot; Dieter Bravo x fem. reader; G)

Here comes Santa Claus 

After working as Mrs. Claus with Dieter Bravo as your local mall Santa for the last six weeks you finally agree to go out for drinks with him, not knowing how this night would end for you. (One Shot; Dieter Bravo x fem, reader; E; dub con/noncon)

✨ Miller's Christmas Tree Farm ✨

Wanting a fresh start after your husband died, you and your nine year old Step Daughter Ellie move from San Francisco to Noel, a small town in Colorado where you, looking for a job are found by Tommy Miller, who offers you a place to stay and a new job at his family owned Christmas Tree Farm that is in dire need of some fresh ideas to make some money. There is only one problem, his brother Joel Miller, who, judging by the google reviews of the Christmas Tree farm, is an asshole. But you like a challenge. And Joel? Joel can only try to pretend to be grumpy for so long until he finally realises that you might just be what he needed. (Mini Series; Joel Miller x fem. reader; E)

Christmas Writing Challenge 2019

Christmas Writing Challenge 2020

Christmas Writing Challenge 2021

December Writing Challenge 2022 

Winter Writing Challenge 2023

[biblical-chronicles]

Plastered

_________________________________________

where Liam needs some help to find the courage on Valentine's Day.

_________________________________________

Liam sat slumped on his couch, flicking through channels on the TV without really watching anything. His mind kept circling back to you, the thought of confessing, the pressure building with every tick of the clock. It wasn’t like he’d never felt this way before—he’d been through the motions with women before—but this... this felt different. And fuck, he wasn’t ready for that. What if she doesn't feel the same? What if I make a tit of meself?

He sighed heavily and glanced at the clock again. It was mid-afternoon, and you’d mentioned you were staying in tonight. That was his window. He had a plan, he just had to make sure it went well. Nothing too grand—just a simple, honest conversation. Yeah, right. Simple.

Just as he was stewing in his thoughts, the door buzzer rang.

Liam groaned, his fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. “What now?” he muttered to himself, dragging his feet over to the door.

When he opened it, Noel breezed in, cigarette already hanging from his lips. “Alright, dickhead,” Noel greeted with his usual smirk, not waiting for an invitation. “Got them papers for you. You know, the ones you’ve probably forgotten about 'cause you’ve been too busy pacing around this dump of a flat like a fucking madman.”

Liam rolled his eyes, stepping aside. “I’m not pacing around, I’m thinkin’.”

“Wrong, you're not capable of that.” Noel threw himself onto the couch, throwing the documents onto the little coffee table.

“I’ll get to 'em later. I’ve got stuff to deal with today.”

Noel raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Liam. “Stuff? Like what? You finally gonna man up and tell her you fancy her, or what?”

Liam shot him a glare, but Noel was already grinning like he knew something Liam didn’t. "Nah," Liam muttered, scratching his head. "Not like that. Just... yeah. You know. Think I’m gonna swing by hers later, innit."

“Swing by?” Noel chuckled, eyes narrowing. “So you’re just gonna turn up at her gaff, all confident, all ‘Hey, I fancy ya’, and expect it to go smoothly, yeah?”

Liam frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

Noel laughed harder now. “Oh, you poor bastard. You’ve never been able to ask the bird out to lunch without getting all twitchy, let alone doin’ some grand confession on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Liam bit his lip, already feeling the nerves creeping in. “I can do it, alright?”

Noel grinned, clearly loving how worked up Liam was getting. “You’re sure she’s even stayin’ in? She could be off out, mate. You’ve not even checked, have ya?”

Liam stared at him blankly. “I don’t—” he stammered, caught off guard. He hadn’t thought about that. “I mean… She said she was stayin’ in. Why would she suddenly change her plans?”

Noel’s smirk only grew wider. “Oh, who knows? Maybe someone actually asked her out. You ever think of that, Liam? She's not reserved for ya so plesse stop just stewin’ in here like a prat.”

Liam let out a grunt, clearly starting to get a bit frustrated. “I don’t need you to make me feel worse, alright?”

Noel laughed again, shaking his head as he stood up to leave. “Nah, mate. I’m just tellin’ ya how it is. But listen,” he added, turning back toward the door, “You really have to do this, she won't wait around forever for your nervous arse.”

Liam glared at him, his jaw clenching. “I’m not nervous.”

“Yeah, right,” Noel shot back, the playful glint still in his eyes. “You look like you'd benefit from a shot"

Liam blinked, his brain slowly processing what Noel had just said.

Noel grinned, mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Anyway, you better sort yourself out, yeah? You’ve got a date to ruin.” With that, he strolled out of the flat.

Liam stood there, processing it all for a second before returning to looking at the telly again, procrastinating any further planning.

Yet, as the evening crept closer, Liam’s nerves ramped up like mad. He had been fine, totally fine, but now, with the sun dipping below the horizon, the weight of what he was about to do hit him like a fucking train. His knee bounced restlessly as he sat on the couch, staring at the clock.

6:12 PM.

Shit. Less than an hour until he was meant to head over.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. His palms were clammy, his heart was hammering. He needed to get his shit together. What had Noel said? Right—have a shot. Just a little something to take the edge off. Sounded like solid advice.

So he did.

And then, because his stomach was still flipping and his brain was still screaming, he had another.

And then another.

And then… well, after the fourth one, things were starting to feel much easier.

By the time he glanced back at the clock, it was 6:54 PM.

His stomach dropped. “Oh, fuck.”

Scrambling to his feet, he nearly tripped over the coffee table as he grabbed his coat. He had no gift, no grand gesture, nothing. He had spent so much time spiraling over how to tell you that he’d forgotten to actually prepare anything. In a last-minute stroke of genius, he dashed outside, spotting a small patch of flowers behind someone's fence but close enough to reach.

“Ah, perfect.” he mumbled to himself, crouching down. They weren’t exactly the finest bouquet in the world, but they’d do. He yanked a few out of the ground, dirt and all, and—after wiping his hands sort of clean on his jeans—set off towards your place, swaying slightly as he walked.

When you opened the door, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of chaotic.

Liam stood there, swaying slightly, looking like he’d just been through something. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, his pupils were blown wide, and he smelled of booze. In his grip—barely—was a small, pathetic bundle of flowers, some of them missing petals, others still clinging to their roots.

You just stared at him for a second. “Liam?”

He opened his mouth, as if he had some grand declaration prepared, something sweeping and romantic, but all that came out was a strangled, “Oh, fuck, love, I’m so sorry.”

Your brows lifted. “For what?”

“For—” He gestured wildly at himself, the flowers, the whole tragic state of affairs he’d brought to your doorstep. “This! This whole—this whole fucking disaster! This is not how this was supposed to go, at all.”

Your lips twitched, but you managed to keep a straight face. “And how was it supposed to go?”

Liam let out a long, weary sigh, like he was personally disappointed in himself. “Well, not like this, obviously.” He rubbed a hand down his face before leveling you with a surprisingly serious look. “I had a plan, y’know.”

You just barely bit back a smile. “Did you now?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, swaying slightly with the movement. “I was gonna knock on your door all cool, say summat dead smooth, summat that’d make ya weak in the knees—‘cause let’s be real, I make ya weak in the knees, yeah?”

You let out a snort, and he pointed at you like he’d caught you in some kind of admission.

“Exactly,” he said. “But then—” He suddenly looked deeply betrayed. “Then Noel—”

He flung his arms out dramatically, like the mere mention of his brother’s name was enough to conjure bad luck. “He’s sittin’ in me flat, takin’ the piss, right? And I’m tellin’ him about tonight, proper serious, and he’s just laughin’ at me! Like I’m some kind of—I dunno—some kinda mug! And then he’s like, ‘Oh, just have a shot, mate,’ and I thought—yeah, alright, good shout.”

Your amusement only grew as he barreled forward with his confession.

“But then I kept havin’ ‘em,” Liam went on, his voice increasing in volume like he’d just realized the depth of his own mistake. “And then suddenly it’s, like, ten to seven, and I’m leggin’ it down the road, tryna find ya some flowers, and now—now—I’m here, stood in front of ya, absolutely fuckin’ wrecked, makin’ a right fool of meself.”

You couldn’t help it anymore—you laughed. Loudly.

Liam immediately froze, his face falling like you’d just punched him in the gut.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, looking properly crushed. His eyes darted everywhere but you, like he was already planning his escape.

Before he could spiral any further, you reached out, grabbing the front of his coat and tugging him closer.

“Oh, Liam,” you murmured, still grinning. “C’mere.”

His eyes flickered to yours, completely dazed, and then, just as quickly, he stumbled forward, colliding into you. His nose brushed against yours as you pressed your lips to his, and for a second, he didn’t react—almost like his brain couldn’t process what was happening. But then, all at once, his hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you closer, like he had to make sure this was real. He kissed you back with everything he had, and somewhere in the midst of it, the sad little bouquet in his hands slipped from his fingers, landing on the doorstep with a soft thud.

When you finally pulled away, he blinked at you, still swaying slightly.

“… Does that mean you’ll be me Valentine?” he asked, his voice soft, full of hesitant hope.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, smiling. “Of course, Liam.”

His face lit up, but then his brows furrowed, like something important had just dawned on him. “Wait—not just today, yeah? I mean it. I wanna be with ya—properly. Not just for Valentine’s, not just for now. Like… forever, or summat.”

You let out a snort. “Yeah, Liam, I’m not stupid. I know.”

That was all he needed. His lips crashed onto yours again, more urgent this time, like he was making up for all the time he’d wasted. His hands roamed—your waist, your back, anywhere he could get a grip—until finally, he pulled away with a sharp inhale.

You pressed your forehead against his, smiling as he blinked at you, still swaying slightly. His breath warm against your lips, and he looked just so pleased with himself.

You huffed a small laugh, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Come on, let’s get you inside, yeah? Get you some water before you fall over.”

Liam’s brows furrowed like he was debating whether he should be offended or grateful. Eventually, he settled on grinning, throwing an arm around you as you guided him inside. “Yeah, alright, but only ‘cause ya asked so nicely.”

_________________________________________

happy valentines day to all you lot, hope you liked it !!

noel valentine's story here x

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 15: Stand by me (90s Noel Gallagher X reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Sad, very sad. Angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy loss, and death of a loved one, smut (unprotected P in V)

Words: 5211 (I got carried away this time XD)

Summary: After their son's death, Y/N and Noel's couple isn't doing fine. It's tearing them apart, there's only one way to heal.

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 15, I hope you'll like it, as per usual. As I said, it's another important chapter, dealing with pregnancy loss or miscarriage. This is a topic that sometimes isnt taken seriously, or people are told they're exaggerating. It's something that we must talk about. I promise the next chapters will be happier ones ! We're almost at the end of this fanfic (I'd say 4 or 5 chapters left), so soon, I'll finally work on the requests.

Next part this weekend !

Love y'all, take care of yourselves !

Enjoy !

“Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn

So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Times are hard when things have got no meaning I've found a key upon the floor Maybe you and I will not believe in The things we find behind the door So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be”

January 1997- London:

I was depressed. So was Noel.

None of us knew how to act with the other. We were barely talking to each other. Andrew’s death shook us.

We moved in the house that would become “Supernova Heights”. And we didn’t have a minute alone for us on the evenings because it quickly became an open nightclub.

Noel wasn’t touching me at all when we were alone, but was all touchy when others were around, and I hated this.

I felt so alone, I didn’t have anyone to talk to.

So I started drowning my sorrow in alcohol, which wasn’t helpful because I ended up crying, then throwing up, and Noel was yelling at me because I was shaming him.

And a night, I lost it.

I became friends with Kate Moss not so long before, during Knebworth, and I was so fucking wasted I wasn’t good to be around.

So, how are you doing sweet Y/N? She asked

Trying to feel good as you can see. I answered, drinking my vodka

Trying? You should feel good with the house you have.

I don’t know if I have to remind you but I’m grieving my son.

Oh I see. But he wasn’t born yet so…

I was shocked.

I was almost 7 months pregnant Kate. It already was a human being.

Y/N, stop talking about this and have fun. Noel said, smiling but squeezing my leg, indicating me I should shut up

I’m sorry for your loss Y/N, truly. But you should try to get through it… She added

And oh, she shouldn’t have.

Listen to me Kate, I really like you okay? you’re a good friend, but you’ll make this kind of comment the day you’ll be pregnant and when your baby will come out fine, because he won’t have been strangled by his own umbilical cord okay? You didn’t lose a baby; you don’t know what it is and how it feels like! I shouted at her, standing up, on the verge of tears

Wait Y/N, it’s not how you should…

Fuck you. In fact, fuck all of you, I’m out of here. I said, leaving the living room

I went to the only room no one had the right to go to, not even me. Noel’s studio. I found Noel’s whiskey bottle and started drinking. I sat on the couch, fixing the ceiling, crying.

A few minutes after, when he saw I wasn’t coming back and after he searched me in the whole house, Noel entered, I heard him closing the door.

Are ye done? He said, coming in front of me, his arms crossed

Done for what?

Moaning like a mardy…

Don’t. seriously, don’t. I interrupted him, chuckling sarcastically

Ye owe fucking apologies to Kate.

I don’t owe owt to anyone! You fucking turned our house into a fucking nightclub without even asking me If I agreed to this, If I wasn’t too depressed or too tired for this because you don’t care and all this because you just don’t want to be alone with me!

Oh stop yer fucking nonsense!

I was sobbing, my heart was in pieces.

My fucking nonsense? You barely talk to me, you don’t touch me, you don’t make love with me, you don’t kiss me except when there’s other people around! Didn’t you think that maybe I needed some time alone with you after what happened? That we need to talk about it? To what fucking happened to our son, our Andy? That I suffer and need your support? No, you just let people come around and decide for me when to talk or when to shut up!

Others don’t need to know about this! Ye think I’m not suffering?

Well if you do, you hide it very well!

I’m just not showing it because it’s not people’s concern!

No it’s ours, but you’re acting like…

Like what? Fucking say it!

Like he never happened! I yelled

A little silence settled in.

In a way he didn’t.

For fuck’s sake Noel, do you even hear yourself?! I said, breaking down even more

We’ll try again!

You think that’s what I want to hear right now?! I don’t even know if I want to try again, especially with a man who doesn’t seem to care about his son or isn’t even grieving him.

Don’t ye dare saying that!

Please, just go back to your people. I need to be alone. I need to think.

About what?

Our future.

I just… need to think.

He sighed and left the room, slamming the door.

Is this alcoholic woman was who I wanted to become? Is this grieving and depressed woman was who I was supposed to be?

No, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t like me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t be.

After drinking the whole bottle and throwing up, I fell asleep like a little shit on the sofa in Noel’s studio.

*

The next morning, the smell of tea and someone caressing my face woke me up.

Mornin’ love. Noel said as I opened my eyes

Mornin’. I answered, shitfaced

I made ye a cuppa. He answered, handing it to me

Thanks.

I took it and drank. I was dehydrated. Noel cleared his throat.

So hum… did ye think well?

I looked at him with a jaded look.

Yeah I did. But you know, you can do better to try to have a chat with me.

Yea, ye’re right, soz. It’s just that… I don’t know how to act after being such a jerk last night.

Well I understood that. And to give you a proper answer, yes, I thought a lot.

And ye’re going to break up with me and leave, don’t ye? He said, lowering his head, so I wouldn’t see his eyes fill up with tears

I grabbed his face in my hands.

No Noel, I’m not planning to. But… I think we both need some space for a few. You have an album to finish, and we both need to get better. To heal. I’m going to leave for a few. I’ll be at Liam and Patsy’s. She has a kid so I think she might understand what I’m going through, and she’ll have good advice and methods to get better. By your side you also need to work on this. I know Andy’s death shook you too and that you’re suffering but you’re trying to make it all disappear with parties and drugs and alcohol.

Yea, ye’re right. He said, tears running down his face

I kissed him.

I think it might be the solution for us. We tried to face the situation, but it was too painful for us. It’ll save us, for a better future.

Noel sighed.

How long? He asked

I don’t know. The time we need to heal.

I can’t live without ye, and I need ye to heal Y/N.

I can’t live without you neither, that’s why I’m doing this. Or it will tear us apart. I’m not letting you go again.

Neither do I. Never.

I prepared a suitcase with the stuff I needed and left, kissing Noel’s cheek.

Don’t forget that I love you. I said before leaving

I won’t. And I hope you won’t too.

I gave him a weak smile, closed the door and walked to the nearest tube station.

*

When I rang at Liam’s door, a little boy opened the door.

Hello! He said, smiling

Oh hey there, you must be James! Is your mam here?

Yes, but who are you? He asked

I’m Y/N, I’m a friend.

Mommy! Y/N’s here! He shouted

Y/N? She answered, surprised

She came out of the kitchen, flour all over her clothes, and a bit on her cheek.

Heya! I said, embarrassed

Hey, what are you doing here?

I…um…

She saw my suitcase.

Come in, we’ll have a chat. I’m preparing a cake if you want to join. It’s good therapy.

She took my suitcase, putting it in the living room, and put cartoons for James to watch while we both went to the kitchen.

You did a good job with your son. He’s so cute, polite and careful.

Yes I know. Well his father also did a great job.

He’s Jim Kerr’ son, right?

Yup. She answered, insisting on the letter P

Well you raised him well.

Thank you.

A silence settled in. Patsy saw my sad look.

What’s going on in this little head of yours darling? She asked

Well huh… I hope you and Liam will accept to let me stay here for a bit… I know I came unannounced but…

Of course you will, you’re family. Now get to the main topic and mix the vanilla with the cream please. She interrupted me, handing me a bowl

I obliged and felt tears invade my eyes immediately.

Noel and I are not doing fine.

The opposite would have surprised me.

There are always people in the house, I don’t know most of ‘em. Noel is here, partying, alcohol and drugs never miss, he’s all touchy, smiling and laughing, but during the rare occasions we’re alone, he doesn’t talk to me or touches me, it’s like he’s even avoiding me…

I see…

And what happened yesterday was too much. I just… lost it. You know during Knebworth that I befriended Kate Moss. She was there yesterday. She made me feel like a fucking mardy get because when she asked how I was doing, I told her the truth. Noel told me to shut up, and Kate added the sentence she shouldn’t have said.

Which was?

“You should try to get through it”. I answered, imitating her

Oh shit.

So like I said, I just lost it. I got… so angry. I was mean and I escaped to Noel’s studio where I’m not supposed to go, it’s his space. But it was the only room I could go to be alone. And then Noel joined me and we argued. He told me the sentence I don’t want to hear. I’m not able to hear it yet. The famous “we’ll try again”. As if Andy never existed. So I got drunker, cried, threw up, thought and thought and thought again before passing out. And when thinking, I just saw who I was becoming, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to become this bloody alcoholic, this woman drowning her sorrow in liquid. So I told Noel that we need some time for ourselves, so our couple can get better. Because I love him so much Patsy. I don’t want us to be torn apart again…

Oh I know that you love him. And I understand. But you need to be at peace with your mind and body again. You were going to have a baby, that’s who Andy was. He was already a little human still growing in you, a person, you were excited, you wanted him. And just like that, he was taken away from you. You’re grieving. You’re grieving your son, who he was going to be, you’re grieving the mother you were about to be to him. And that’s perfectly normal. It’s as if you were grieving any loss A parent, a cousin, a cat… No one has to decide for you when it has to stop. But you have the power to do it, and for it, you need time. And of course you’re not done grieving only three months after. It’s common sense. Only a mother, even when she was a mum to be and technically in her heart, already a mum can understand this kind of grief.

She said everything. I felt less crazy. My situation was beyond normal. I broke down and she took me in her arms.

Thank you… I said

For what? For saying the truth?

Yes. Everyone except my mum, Peggy and you made me feel it wasn’t normal.

But it is. And Noel is also grieving. You both tried to face it but it’s too painful and you need to take time for yourselves.

That’s what I think, yes.

And you’re goddamn right.

*

When Liam was back home, we chatted, us three. It felt good to be understood. He wasn’t happy with his brother’s behaviour.

Fucking scouse schlepper. I know I can be a pain in the ass most of the time, me. But I would never behave like that. I don’t think he really remembers what our mam has been through. I know it’s something else, but I remember the nights where we could hear her scrinkin’ ‘cause she was struggling to make ends meet, to keep a roof over our heads, to feed us, to raise us despite all the shite we were doing and problems we were bringing her. From the moment she knew she was pregnant with each of us three, she loved us and already was our mam. She was so fucking scared of losing us and that the social services would come and take us away from her.

I already know all that Li’.

I know, it’s just to say that his behaviour towards ye has been fucking rank. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers where he fucking comes from.

He’s hurt too Li’…

He maybe is. But what is it right, is that he’s being a teetotal arsehole. Anyway. Ye know ye can stay here as long as you want, ye’re me sister Y/N. But I think ye need holidays. Like in Spain or summat like that, under the sun. Somewhere where ye’ll feel godlike.

And I’ll accompany you. Patsy added

It would be great, but I don’t earn enough for that.

I’ll pay everything fer ye.

Oh come on cock, you’re not going to…

I will. Ye saved me life countless of times Y/N. Let me do the same fer ye.

*

Patsy and I left two days after, when James went back to his father’s. We went to Malaga, in the south of Spain. It was sunny and hot. We would stay there for a full month. Sat on the terrace of the rented house on the hill, I was admiring the landscapes around. I could see the mere horizon and the silhouette of the African continent that wasn’t so far.

Have you ever been to Africa? I asked

Not yet, but I hope one day I will. Patsy answered

Me too. I always imagine the Lions, elephants, zebras or giraffes and the Saharan desert like it is told to us when we’re young folks, when you learn it at school or when you see it on TV. But I think there’s so much more to see.

Oh there is! What we’re learning or are always told is that the Saharan desert is only sand, but in truth it’s mainly rocky.

I know! In fact, us Europeans don’t know much about Africa. You and I should go together one day.

With pleasure! Oh get ready! She said, looking at her watch

Ready for what?

To get pampered! We’ve got spa and massages.

Wait, what the… Did Liam also pay that?

Yeah he did.

But it must be so expensive!

He just wants you to heal and feel better.

A massage won’t heal me. It always feels good though. But I’m still going to fucking kill him.

*

Three weeks later, the owner of the rented house came to give me a package. I opened it. I was surprised to find a CD with a word. It was from Noel. I could recognize his handwriting.

“Finally finished this song, It’ll be on the album. Please, give it a go. I love you with all my being and beyond. Tenderly, your Noely.”

On the CD was written the title. “Stand by me (mustique demo)”

I first heard the song in 1994 during a soundcheck in Japan.

I went to the living room where a CD player was. I put it in and pressed on play.

Patsy heard the intro of the song and sat on the stairs.

Is that… she started

Yup, a new song. It’s an Avant premiere.

It seems to be a special one since it was Noel who sent it to you, am I wrong?

No you’re not. And indeed, I think it might be one, yeah.

“ Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn”

What does he mean? Patsy asked

After Noel saved me from Kenneth, he took care of me. Peggy tried to give him some advice to cook us meals to make sure we were eating properly. One day he cooked us a Sunday roast and it led to food poisoning. We vomited for two days. After that we came back to pot noodles.

Oh!

And then, the chorus.

“Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be” 

I started crying. Noel was really scared to lose me. He was really scared I would leave him. But I wouldn’t.

Hey, are you okay? Patsy asked, when she saw my tears

Yeah, just got a bit emotional that’s all.

Oh, come here. She said, opening her arms to me

I found refuge in them.

“If you're leaving will you take me with you? I'm tired of talking on my phone There is one thing I can never give you My heart will never be your home”

Here he’s alluding to when we were first together, when he left for tour with the Inspiral carpets. We were calling each other everyday but it wasn’t enough to save our couple. He’s also talking about the fact we’re both clawing to our independence and a certain freedom. That’s even why he doesn’t want me to hang around in his studio at home and it’s perfectly understandable. Though, he’s lying a bit too because our hearts are each other’s home.

He’s talented. He knows what he’s writing.

Well at least here, yes.

What do you mean?

I mean that cocaine and alcohol might have helped during the creation of some songs. Like for Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova for example. They are masterpieces, no one is gonna deny that, but the lyrics are nonsense. Everyone feels these songs in their heart and give them the meaning they want. But if you ask people what the lyrics mean after a dictionary, they’re going to look at you and answer “in fact, I don’t know shit”. I feel like Noel didn’t realise it yet.

You’re right. You really are. Your analysis is clever.

*

Two nights after, I was watching the movie Highlander, and I was singing out loud everytime a Queen song was coming in the movie.

At the middle of it, I heard a noise that wasn’t part of it. I paused the movie and listened closely. The noise happened again.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I said to myself

Rocks at my window. And it surely wasn’t Patsy.

I opened the window and stepped back.

Not this time me love; I saw ye open the window. He said

I approached.

What the hell are you doing here Gallagher? I asked

I… I miss ye. I wanted to see this pretty face of yers.

Jeez! I miss you too Noel, but please, respect my choices, I told you I would be coming back when I’ll be ready.

And I know ye enough to tell this day will never come. I’m actually losing ye. I can’t let that happen. Can I come in? I have two gifts for ye.

I hesitated.

No, Patsy might be sleeping. Wait for me, I’m coming to you. Just let me put on a jacket.

I couldn’t find my jacket, so I grabbed a plaid and put it on my shoulders. I went downstairs and opened the door. Here he was, standing.

Hey beautiful. He said

Hey. I answered

I took him in my arms and held him tight. I missed him too, but a part of me was still desperate because of what happened to us and because of what he told me.

Do ye… want to take a walk? I t could be good, and we could chat? He asked

Yeah, that’s a good idea. There’s a small forest in there. I said, indicating my left

I closed the front door behind me, and we started walking.

So… how are ye doing? He asked, not knowing where to start

I’m okay. Trying to get better. What about you?

I’m fine. I’m working a lot, so it doesn’t give me time to… think about it.

About him, Noel, not about it. Just say things as they are. What happened to us? Before Andy, we could communicate and say things as they were…

I didn’t mean “it” love. I just didn’t know if ye were ready to hear me say “him”.

Ready or not, he was our son Noel. Not just an object. I just don’t know how you function on this one.

Well I’m still coping with it, me. I knew ye never meant to sound selfish because I know ye’re not. But it shattered me too Y/N. And I didn’t know how to talk about Andy without making ye scrink, knowing it was already what ye were doing before sleeping and when waking up. It broke me heart to know our son died, and yer cries were breaking it more. He’s gone and there’s nothing more we can do.

But since it shattered you that much Noel, why did you say “we’ll try again” when you’re apparently grieving him? And why not talking about this with our supposed friends who are invading your house everyday?

Because they wouldn’t understand. Only us two know what it is and what it feels like. And I’m soz fer saying we’ll try again. It’s a sensitive topic fer us both and I want us to get through it. And we will, with time. Ye’re right we need to talk about Andy. And when I was telling ye I was starting to lose ye, I was right. Ye don’t call our home “our house” but mine. And if I didn’t come here, I’m sure you would never come back, because you’ll think we wouldn’t talk about Andy. We have lost a baby, that’s true. But I want this event to make our couple stronger. I want to marry ye, no matter what and have a family with ye.

I chuckled.

Noel, what you’re saying is beautiful, but you’re oh so blind. I answered

And why so?

You haven’t touched me in months! When we hugged a few minutes ago it was the first time since October! You haven’t kissed me. When I was scrinkin’, you were downstairs with your buds, drinking and snorting cocaine! Words are beautiful, but what about acts?

A silence settled in.

Sex isn’t what ye need when ye’ve lost…

Oh shut your cake ole. Stop finding excuses.

Ye’re right, I fucked up and I apologize. And don’t think I hold ye responsible fer Andy because it’s not yer fault. I know ye enough to know ye feel guilty. So please, don’t.

I think I needed to hear this. Because he was right. I felt guilty deep inside. And I needed him more than that. It just couldn’t and wouldn’t go like this. Not without his support.

Promise me.

Promise what?

That’s you’ll finally support me.

That’s why I’m here. And also to give ye this.

As we arrived in the dark forest, Noel took out too things of his pocket. The first was a medallion with Andy’s hand imprint. He insisted on doing it after his death. Just this should have made me understand he was in pain too. He put the necklace around my neck. Tears invaded my eyes.

Thank you. I said

He showed me his neck. He had the same.

He’s with us both.

The second gift was my engagement ring that I forgot in London.

And also this because I can’t let ye forget we’re a fucking team and I still really want to marry ye. I’ll support ye no matter what. I love ye Y/N. I fucking love ye beyond anything. We can get through it. I’ve been an arsehole and I’m so soz, because ye know this is not who I really am.

I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him. I just brought my lips to his and held him as tight as I could. He kissed me back and did the same. I started peppering his neck with kisses and he gasped. He wrapped his arms around my waist. When I stopped, I guided his body to the grass. He sat down, and I hovered him, kissing him again. I put my hands on both sides of his face, while he wrapped his arms around me again. I quickly felt him get hard under me.

Noel…

I want ye too Y/N. I need ye. Touch me… He answered

I unbuckled, unzipped and unbuttoned his trousers. I put my hand on his hard bulge and started massaging it.

He moaned lowly, before squeezing my ass and kissing my neck.

He stopped my hand and pushed me away before putting the plaid I had on my shoulders away and sliding down my nightdress off. He looked at my body.

Ye’re so goddamn beautiful. I hope ye know it.

And so are you, handsome.

I helped him get rid of his jacket and tee before dealing with his jeans and boxers.

When we were both naked, he started kissing me again, putting me on top of him again.

Tell me… He said

Tell you what?

Tell me what ye want me to do and I’ll do it.

You know what I want.

I’d like to hear it. I need to hear it.

I put my mouth near his hear.

I want you to make love to me Noely.

He took his member in his hand and guided himself inside me.

We both moaned in unison.

Are ye okay?

I haven’t felt this good in months. I answered

He started rolling his hips against mine, as I put my arms around his neck, enjoying the heat and the passion of our reunion. It as slow and tender. What we both needed.

Oh god… yes… Noel moaned

It was as if our lives depended on it. Our hands were roaming on each other’s body.

It was strong. It was powerful. Full of love.

I love you Noel. I said between moans

He went deeper with his thrusts, making me moan loudly as he touched my G-spot. I felt his arms getting tighter around me.

Our moans and the sound of our bodies slapping against each other were filling the forest and slightly echoing.

I felt myself getting closer to my orgasm as Noel’s member hit my sweet spot everytime. My walls were contracting around him, causing him to lose the rhythm of his movements.

Give it to us, love. Make us cum. Ye know we need it. Please.

I arched my back to give him a better angle, his hands on it.

He panted in my mouth, his eyes closed, his face slightly contorsioning with pleasure.

It was all I needed to be thrown over the edge. It felt so intense that tears invaded my eyes again, and sobs, sobs of pleasure mixed with moans took over.

A familiar coil exploded in my lower stomach, as I shut my eyes, tears spilling from them, my insides convulsing around Noel’s manhood.

I didn’t know it was as intense for me that it was for Noel, who cried out, sobbed, and finally groaned in pleasure, before emptying himself inside me.

My head fell in the crook of his neck, that was wet with sweat and… tears?

I looked at him. He was crying, just like me.

You scrinkin’? I asked, catching my breath

Yea… He answered

Why?

Because it was too much. And because I love ye so fucking much I would die without ye. I was so scared to lose ye again.

We’re scrinkin’ for the same thing.

Good. Means we’re connected.

He softened inside me, so I pulled out. We lay next to each other in the grass, Noel covering us with the plaid.

I really want to marry ye. Let’s do it when the occasion will let us.

I agree on that.

But let’s be clear on summat. I’m not doing or saying this to make ye me property or because I’m scared to lose ye. Ye’ll always belong to yerself. I’m doing and saying this because I love ye, I want us when the time will come again to have our family, and I want ye to stand by me.

And I will. Nobody knows the way it’s gonna be, huh?

He smiled, knowing now that I listened to the song.

No, nobody knows. But at least, we’ll be together.

[unfortunate-copyrights]

Have an Arthur gets sick fic <3

(Also posted to Ao3)

The Soul at the Bottom of the Soup Bowl

It's not till hours after they get back to their room at Marie's that John notices something is wrong. 

Arthur had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but since then, his breathing has become labored. His body tosses and turns like its trying to escape some imagery danger. A few quiet whimpers fall from his mouth. It is not rare for Arthur to have nightmares but when John hears his own name on Arthur's lips, he suddenly feels cold. 

“Arthur,” he tries. The man does not respond other than with a painful sounding breath.

“Arthur, wake up.” John feels the familiar pull of dread, his powerlessness stark in the darkness where he can do nothing to help his friend. 

“Please…” 

Arthur lets out another soft cry, his eyes still firmly shut. 

“It's okay. You're alright, Arthur,” he finds himself saying, as if words could help soothe either of them. 

 “I've got you,” 

John has no way of knowing how long they have been laying there. With Arthur's eyes closed, the only signs that morning has come is by the quiet shuffling of feet in the house and the slowly growing frequency of cars outside their window. 

Arthur does not wake up, but for a while, he goes quiet. John doesn't know why, but the silence is somehow worse. It reminds him of the coma. Except for then, he had Lilly coming in every morning in a predictable pattern. He was never alone for more than a few hours at a time. Now, he didn't know how long he would lay here in the deafening silence. Arthur would wake up soon, he told himself, he always did. 

A sudden knock on the door startles John back to reality. A bit of uncharacteristic hope floods his mind when he recognizes the voice that calls out.

“Hello?! Arthur!” 

“Noel!” John says, forgetting for a moment that he can not be heard. And just like that, the hope sputters out.

“Arthur! You alright in there? Marie says she hasn't seen you all day.” 

John expectes Noel to leave when there is no response but he doesn't. 

“I can hear your breathing, friend.” 

The doorknob rattles.

After another moment of silence, John hears the man sigh. A second later, something slams into the door. Then again. With the third, the door swings back against the wall. 

Noel kicked in the fucking door. 

“Hell.” The detective moves to the bed and John feels a cool pressure over his eyes. 

Noel lets out a curse.

The floor creaks as the man starts pacing. 

After a minute of this, the sound stops. 

“John?” He calls tentatively.

John has never wished for his own body more than now. What was the fuckimg point of him if he couldn't even call for help? 

“John,” Noel says again. “If you can hear me, I'm going to give you a pen and put a piece of paper next to your hand.” 

There's the sound of rustling paper before John feels a pen being put in his hand. 

He has never written anything before but this seemed like a good enough reason to try. 

He moved his hand until he felt the paper beside him. Then, he wrote as carefully as his shaking malformed hand could. 

Help him 

Noel was silent for a moment before he let out a relieved sigh. 

“Of course. It's alright, friend. He's gonna be okay. If you are able, it would help me to know some things about what happened before he fell asleep. Are you able to write yes or no to some questions?” 

John feels sick with relief. He writes yes on the paper.

“See Arthur,” he says to the sleeping man. “You're gonna be alright.”

Noel asks questions about things John would never have considered to be signs of a sickness. 

Had Arthur been sneezing? Coughing? Was he having a harder time hearing? Could he control his arms and legs like normal? Was he less hungry? Extra tired? 

The more questions John answered, the calmer Noel sounded.

“Alright,” he says after a few minutes of this. 

“He seems to just have a nasty cold. It's probably affecting him extra badly because of his injuries but he'll most likely be back to normal within a few days. I'll tell Marie, see if she has any medicine around. In the meantime, I'll get a glass of water for when he wakes up.” 

Yet another wave of relief floods through John. This time, he feels something else along with it. Noel had done what he could not. And he did it asking for nothing in return. 

Thank you

John can almost hear the smile in Noel’s voice. 

“Of course. What else are friends for?” 

Friends. John has only ever associated the word with Arthur. It was always just the two of them. No help would come from the hands of a stranger.

 But, perhaps it didn't always have to be that way. John knew now that he was not always able to protect Arthur but that didn't mean the man was beyond saving. Maybe the only way John can care for Arthur in times like this, is to allow someone else to help. 

It's a loathsome feeling, that he is not enough, but incomparable to the thought of losing Arthur. 

John will do anything for him. In whatever capacity he is needed, he will be there. 

A few minutes after Noel leaves, Marie is bustling through the doorway with far too much energy for such a normally calm old lady.

“Make sure to chop them thin,” she shouts down the stairwell before marching further into the room. John hears the table being pushed closer and then, what is probably the chair. 

“Oh, what ever will we do with you?” She tuts as she sits down next to him.

“Going out while your body needed rest that badly? It's a miracle you didn't pass out in the middle of the street. Hopefully this will help cool you down.” 

She lays something on his forehead. Cold droplets of water slide onto his eyelids. 

It's annoying not being able to wipe them away but if it brings Arthur any comfort, his discomfort is worth it. 

Marie sits there for a while, muttering to herself quietly and occasionally patting Arthur's arm. 

Eventually, she sighs.

“Better go check on that friend of yours downstairs. I doubt the young man has ever made his own soup in his life.” 

With that, the woman stood and walked out, closing the door behind her. 

“You seem to have a way of making others care about you, Arthur,” John says. “That's an important skill, I suppose.” 

Usually, John notices the second Arthur's breathing changes in the way it does before the man wakes, but now he does not catch it until slowly raising eyelids reveal the room around him. For a second, John can't quite comprehend what this means. 

Arthur lets out a little grumble.

“Mmh, John?” 

“A-Arthur…” 

The man reaches up too his forehead and pauses. 

“Why is there a towel on my head?” 

John can't make himself speak. His whole being consumed with the fact that Arthur is awake.  Awake. Awake. Awake. 

“Ugh, I feel terrible.” He throws the towel to his side.

“John?” Concern laces his friends voice when he does not respond. He sits up. 

“Is something wrong? Where are we? Do we need to leave?” Arthur starts to get up.

“N-No,” John finally manages. “No. We're alright. In Marie's apartment.” 

“Oh,” Arthur stops moving. Good, John doesn't want him to hurt himself. 

“Why…?” 

“You were sick. Are sick” he corrects himself.

“You didn't wake up.” 

Arthur is silent for a moment. 

“What time is it?” 

“Not sure, from the looks of it outside, at least mid-day.”

“Christ.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Well,” Arthur says after seemingly taking stock of his body.

“Not great, but it's not as bad as getting stabbed.”

John finds himself chuckling at that. 

“Better than getting shot, too?” 

“And falling down holes.” He can hear the smile in Arthur's voice. They fall into an almost relieved silence before Arthur's stomach breaks it.

“Ugh, I'm starved!” He complains. 

“I believe Marie and Noel have made you a soup of some kind.” 

“Oh, I would kill for something warm like that and— Wait, Noel is here?” 

John feels a wave of embarrassment. 

“Yes… We missed our plane meeting so I imagine he came here to check on us. Kicked in the door when no one answered.” 

“Hell. Well, I guess that's rather like him. Kind of him to stay and help, though.” 

“Yes,” John says, though that particular stone in stomach felt no better now that it was swallowed. “It was very kind.” 

“John.”

“Hm?” 

“Is something wrong?” 

Leave it to Arthur to uncover every little petty emotion he might have.

“No.” 

“John,” Arthur says again. 

“It's a good thing he was here, is all.” 

“What do you mean?” Arthur asks, as if he doesn't know. As if they both don't know extremely well now exactly how lucky they are for Arthur to have Noel. 

“Because I was useless!” John yells. 

“Because you were hurt and I couldn't help you.” 

“John…” 

Arthur was trying to calm him but it was like now the floodgates were open the words kept coming through. 

“I was so scared. And all I could do was lay there and wait for what was going to happen to happen. I could have lost you ”

“But you didn't. It's okay now.” 

“This time! But what about next time? We won't always have a pleasant new acquaintance to nurse you back to health and that's my fault! I've isolated you and I can't even protect you!” Tears start to fill their eyes and John isn't sure who's they are.

“I… I love you, Arthur.” 

“You know I love you too, John. Always.” 

“No. You don't get it. You're everything. For those hours that I wasn't sure that you'd wake up, I… You are my humanity. I can't lose you.” 

Arthur's hand slides over John's, his fingers drawing spirals over the scars there.

“I understand. I'm sorry I scared you.” 

“Don't apologize. It's not like you were trying to get sick.” 

Arthur scoffs softly. 

“Haven't exactly been doing my best to stay healthy either though.” 

“That's my job just as much as it's yours. If something feels wrong, you have to tell me. Then we can look for someone to help.” 

Arthur gives his hand a little squeeze. 

“I will.” 

John feels empty now. Hollow. 

But Arthur is here. He's awake and alive and he loves him. 

John sighs.

“Are you well enough to get soup?” 

“If you would help me get there, I would be forever in your debt.” 

A part of John heals at the idea of being useful again. 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you.” Arthur carefully climbs out of bed. John directs him towards the stairs but just before the door, he pauses 

“For what it's worth, John. You're my humanity too.” 

[mybigmouthh]

the idea of omega noel not taking his suppressants and starting his heat while on tour and liam threatening to break anyone’s legs if they dare get close to noel

Oof anon you're cooking, and I love you. I think there's a fic like that on AO3 (the only alpha! Liam and omega! Noel I could find) and they end up mating. But let's explore your idea:

If Noel starts his heat in the middle of the tour he's got two options: spend it with someone ASAP to keep the gigs going on, or cancel the next dates and go home, safely. But is Noel the type of artist that cancel shows? I don't think so! He would try to spend it alone at first, trapped inside his hotel room with a bunch of toys he brought along, but damn nothing can satisfy him enough. Here's when Liam should step in!

We got three options too: 1) Liam is an alpha, extremely possessive like you said and willing to sleep with Noel "for the sake of the tour" (he's lying he's been wanting this since forever). Or 2) Liam is a beta and he's frustrated for not being capable enough to satisfy him properly (still possessive but he looks pathetic lmao). And finally 3) Liam is also an omega! (This is such a mess LOL) and I think they would both end in an induced heat, so hard they have to go home 😭😭😭.

But we will stick to the first option now. The start of Noel's heat is almost imperceptible, only alphas can smell his scent changing regularly. When Liam notices what's going on: Noel's impatience, he's irritated, and many alphas are approaching him in a new friendly way... Fuck, he's losing it. Liam gets mad all of the sudden, breaking some things and fighting anyone on his way, until Noel's heat finally reaches the peak point and he needs to leave. Knowing how stubborn Liam is, he would follow Noel to his hotel room and beg for a chance to prove his ability. Wow this can develop some questions for the staff like "why did Liam disappear in the middle of Noel's heat????" OOPS. And as much as Noel wants to deny deny deny, he can't control himself anylonger + yeah he also wanted this for a long time.

Sigh. The sex? Mind-blowing. Noel has never been so satisfied before and Liam pops his knot so easily inside it's almost as if they fit together like a puzzle! The hours would pass flying and before they realise what day is, Noel's heat has stopped, finally! Now what's left? The next show and the reality check of what they just did!!! If Liam was eager enough (which he was) he absolutely marked Noel's scent glands and now they reek of eachother. It's almost like they mated/bonded officially. Now they have to buy the best suppressants in the market to hide their scents from the world! Sad.

What do you think? Do you like this development? I'd gladly answer more questions and scenarios.

Bonus: this gives me alpha! Liam vibes being territorial

Thanks for passing by I loved this ask! <3