#liam gallagher x bff!reader

[lgwifey]

COUNCIL ESTATE

bff!liam gallagher x fem!reader

90s!alex james x fem!reader

Summary : After getting adopted, y/n looses touch with her best friend but bumps into his years later at her boyfriend's award show. For both of them, everything's changed.

Warning : southerner bashing (?)

MASTERLIST

1987

Black adidas hit the floor of the science block in power filled strides. Ripped tights, a rolled up skirt, an untucked jumper and a blazer smothered in patches and badges of different bands and brands.

Y/n Y/l/n was the rebellion of Barlow Roman Catholic High School. In her cherry red blazer's inside pocket was a walkman, it's headphones infront of her messy bun and on her ears. The sound of I Wanna Be Sedated danced through her ears as she made her way to first period with a Greggs' sausage roll in hand and three more stashed in her messanger bag that swung against her hip.

Two sausage rolls for 50p was going to be the death of her.

Her science teacher, Mr Wright, didn't bother too much about his students excuse making ability and basically worked off students being in school late was better than them being absent, so she didn't have to frey detention.

"Hiya Sir."

Y/n's y/f/c nail polished hand pushed the light wood, possibly oak, door open to reveal the middle aged man trying to teach the room full of teenagers about, she looked to the chalkboard at the front of the class, plant and animal cells. She pulled off her headphones,resting them on her shoulders and pausing the tape. Her body skipped it's way to the back of the room where her friends where sat, originally bored out their brains and now holding their hands out to her for the food.

"Good for you to finally join us y/f/n. Your book's in the box at the back."

She gave a nod at the direction, face screwing up at the use of her christened name. Her bag was discarded on the varnished desk which for some reason was always sticky, ew, and she stretched to the box that sat around a meter away from her to get the yellow workbook.

When her book was opened and the date and title had been scribbled down at the top of the white page in a cheap black biro, the y/h/ced teen looked to her left to find her friend basically staring into her soul.

"What's your issue Liams ?"

"Food ? "

The realisation hit her and she mumbled an 'alreat' as she pulled the two hot sausage rolls and the bottle of coke out of her bag.  As she put the stock down on the table between their books and poundshop pens, Liam past her the £1.30 for the things he'd asked her to buy when she'd ran his house from a phone box and told him she'd missed the bus and was therefore going past the highstreet on her way to school.

She almost immediatly pulled out Anna's stuff and passed the sauage roll bag to the girl sat infront of them, who past three ten pences over in the other hand.

After sorting out everyone elses purchases, Y/n got out her bottle of y/f/d.

Finally she actually started paying attention to the lesson Mr Wright was already on the small halfway pop quiz he did at the begining of a subject.

"And y/f/n, "

He pointed the small sparkly red finger pointer stick, which he used for the quizes to try and make them more fun, at the back of the room. Said fourteen year old jumped up dramatically,

"And the powerhouse of the cell is called ?"

"Mitochondria !"

A running joke in the lesson after Liam had asked if that was a disease in the first sub-topic.

The next period of the day was undoubtable the worst.

Maths.

If the subject alone wasn't enough to make y/n want to claw her eyes out and produce them in a smoothie, the rotten Miss Alans was definatly the thing to top off her hatrid of it.

"She 'as it out f'me Liams, wear down."

"Aye. Well as much as I love yeh Birdy, Imma 'ave to leave yeh to it."

Liam had maths next door to y/n.

Mr Lowton.

He literally gave them sweets if they participated and got the answer wrong !

The younger girl gave a grumble as she entered the room and pulled her chair out to slouch down in. A plastic, uncomfortable seat square front-center of the class.

She was a 'trouble maker' according to the old witch.

Honestly, you miss one mass for a concert. Just one.

That was one of the downsides to going to a catholic school, they made sure you went to mass each weekend.

The class dragged on longer than normal, triganometry really could test time's ability to become a tortoise, and half an hour of 'Mary had a little lamb' could really test your sanity's ability to stay strong.

Mary had a little lamb, whose fur was white as snow.

And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go.

At least that's what she had been singing in her head for the past twenty odd minutes, she wasn't certain the lyrics where spot on but who'd know ?

Y/n was smacked out of her thoughts by a wooden 30cm ruler striking her fingers.

Pain struck through her hand like lightening to a metal rod and she bit her lip furiously in attempt to muffle the screeched curses.

"Miss y/l/n, will you pay attention in my class !"

The strong southern accent shouted through the room, echoing off the walls.

That was another thing y/n couldn't stand about the victorian woman, bloody thatcherite. The greying fifty-eight year old carried on the lesson as if nothing had happened.

bla, bla, bla

sin, cos, tan

The next ten minutes where filled with y/n's mind picturing graphic ways of murdering, or at the very least seriously injuring, the woman pacing infront of the class of petrified teenagers.

A sharpened ruler to the neck; instant slicing, blood spurting out of little sticking out tubey things. It was her favourate image at the moment.

She occationally looked down to her hands, which hadn't moved since the ruler incident. A violet line had become more prominent through them by now and the pain had subsided a smidge.

Maths was the only lesson she'd ever received physical punishments in. Most would say the canes where hell, but those chalkboard dusters hurt like a bitch, especially when at a velosity from being lobbed at your shoulders with the power of one of those shotputs at the olympics.

By the time the lesson was over, y/n was more than ready to leave. She was the first out of the room, waiting infront of next-door's chipped green paint door for the mouthy arses that where Liam Gallagher and Anna Mallons.

Anna was out already and was munching happily on the now cold sausage roll. Liam however was busy chatting indoors so appeared when y/n did, too with a half-ate sausage roll.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe what Sammy told me."

Sammy was Anna's cousin. He was a year older than Anna and Liam, two years older than y/n seeing how she was the baby of the bunch, unfortunatly born at the end of August. He lived in Ireland still with Anna's aunty and gran.

She didn't leave anytime for either to answer with a question before dramatically whispering an answer, showing whatever was going on in Castledurg.

" Aye well, y'know how his school had a colaboration and now girls go there too ? Well there's this one girl and she's joined the,"

She serveyed the area to check for any eavesdroppers before whispering the final part of the sentence.

", the IRA."

The group two paused.

After a minute, probably only a few seconds, y/n grabbed the top of Anna's arm, the red v-neck jumper scrunching up slightly where she had a hold of.

"Anna, that's not'in to be joking about."

"I'm not jokin' y/n, honest to God."

The group remained silent for a moment before Liam abruptly started, basically shouting, about the newest Stone Roses song.

One way to kill the awkward.

The weekend came round slow as per usual.

Y/n was still hung up on the news that a girl in Tommy's class was apart of the IRA.

Sure, she knew that they recruited teenagers, but the knowledge of someone she was friends with knowing one of them was a slight culture shock. They where the kind of people that gave people like her a bad reputation. Poor little immigrant kids, the reputation of terrorists. One of the reasons she faced so much everyday.

She was slouched on her bed on Saturday. Layed in black joggers and a Man City top, one of the ones Liam had outgrew, whilst This Charming Man played on repeat on the record player in the corner. There was no way she could afford it by herself, it was Anna's old one that she gave her as a present when she got a new one. She was relaxed, reading the latest Girl Talk magazine on her bed without any worry other than being concerned about how dead her ends where. Unfortunatly that relaxation was abruptly destroyed by Sister Mackles opening the door.

Sister Mackles was one of the nicer nuns in the orphanage, well nice as long as you stayed on her good side and lucky for y/n she always managed to keep herself in the nun's good books.

"Morning sister."

"Y/f/n dear, quick there's a family here to see you."

Her rushed voice almost caused y/n's heart to stop.

Had she misheard her ?

She must have, the older kids nearly never got adopted.

You hit eight and all hopes where thrown out the window.

She just needed to check.

" 'm sorry sister, what d'ya just say ?"

"Honestly child, there's a family here to see you. "

The woman turned around from removing the record from the pin and threw a dress at the girl to change into.

"Be downstairs in five minutes, the staff dining room."

Y/n gave a nod as the nun closed the door behind her, quickly jumping up and closing her curtains.

She carefully pulled on a pair of sheer black tights and a bra seeing how she wasn't having to wear one before. The brown and dark turquoise dress that had a sort of peacock pattern on it was pulled over her head and down, it ended just as her thighs began. The collar was brown and so where the short sleeves whilst the main body of the clothing item was the kind of peacock pattern.

As she was about to leave the room, y/n realised she had a minute or two left and so fluffed up her hair, the bird's nest having had a cut the day prior and so rested in the most unnatural way possible.

She pulled it back with a big black headband, pulling a few strands to frame her face a bit before flicking on some mascara and lipgloss.

Before leaving the band merchandised room, she pulled on her pair of black adidas that she usually wore as school shoes.

A soft knock occured when her shaking fist made contact with the brown varnished door.

She cursed herself for giving such a bad first impression, an impression before the first impression.

The door was quickly opened by the head nun of the orphanage, the woman who ruined y/n's world every. single. day. Her face was that of one you always felt a need to punch. A grumpy old woman with the personality of a dead squirrel. Her top lip always drooped of the bottom one, her eyes always showed grey and dead emotion. She had whisps on her top lip and wrinkles on every possible area of her face.

Y/n hated her.

"Good for you to finally join us y/f/n."

cow.

The teenager restrainted herself from scowling at the corpse infront of her, the woman let her in and harshly closed the door behind.

A group of orphans had snuck into hiding spots to try and find out what all the fuss had been about that morning, mainly trying to figure out why y/n y/l/n was wearing an appropriate outfit.

No baggy trousers, no cut up and cropped t-shirts. No black eye makeup or safety pins in her clothes. No band logos or scuffed up boots. A dress without holes on or that didn't show of her body in a manner which they was taught was inappropriate.

A y/n y/l/n who had been de-y/n y/l/n-ed.

When she'd been sat down by Sister Mackles, y/n was able to see the people who had apparently been thinking of adopting her.

Getting this to stage in the adoption process meant that the couple infront of her hadn't been discouraged by her record; the record that showed how y/n was a social misfit and reject, the record that said "Y/f/n finds it difficult to maintain relationships", the quote "not suitable for (...)" used at least ten times amungst the 3 peices of A4.

The record that only showed her bad qualities.

Getting to this stage in the adoption process meant that she wasn't always seen as a negitive thing in life. Sure, they knew she wasn't good at maths already because her detention record was involved in the summary they'd already been shown but she could tell them all about how she could quote Shakespeare off by heart, and that Percy Byshee-Shelley was one of her favourate poets. They knew she failed every science test she was handed, but they didn't know she could correctly answer 89% of her sociology exam.

Getting to this stage in the adoption process meant that she could actually have a chance of getting out of this ditch.

"Hi, you must be y/f/n."

Okay what the actual-

Southeners.

"I'm Clara and this is my husband James."

"God Clars, stop being so formal you're gonna scare the kid off."

The man next to Clara, also a southener, laughted before speaking to the girl sat with an overly confused expression on her face.

"It's nice to finally meet you y/f/n we've been waiting ages to get to introduce ourselves to you."

"And we think you would really fit in with out family."

As Clara spoke again, her husband muttered something with a laugh. Something about being a tad bit too eager.

She looked down at their outfits, Anna always said you could tell near everything about a person by what they wore.

James was in a brown coilderoid suit whilst Clara was in a knee length blue marble skirt and a tucked in, but still baggy, Beatles top. It seamed that she had been wearing a leather jacket, one being over the back of her chair. Y/n had a similar one hung up in her wardrobe, only it had about a hundred studs in it and an accidentaly slightly ripped sleeve.

Okay, maybe they where half decent people.

There was a slightly awkward silence and small talk made but when the extra nuns had left the room to attent to dutys, Mackles being the only one in the room, y/n became more comfortable.

"Urm, so you like the Beatles ?"

She asked the question and nodded slightly to the hard days night top Clara was wearing.

The bleached blonde woman gave a laugh.

"How could I not, they're literally the best band to ever exist."

A small smile ran across y/n's glossed lips, which subquencly brought a smile onto Clara's.

"Me mate Liams would say the same. The guy literally worships John Lennon."

"Oh is he an orphan, we didn't see anyone called Liam on the list here ? If you're more comfortable with him we can always adopt-"

Clara began frantically speaking, worry lacing her facial features.

"Oh urm no, he's just a mate from school. Total nutter but a good heart like ."

At her words y/n had realised that they where planning on her moving down south with them.

She wouldn't be staying in Manchester's borough, nevermind Burnage.

In all honesty she didn't mind moving. Up here there was only Liam and Anna. Plus, bring adopted at 14 was a rare occurance and if she was being given the oppotunity she sure as hell wasn't letting it slip.

They would understand right ?

The chance to have a family, she couldn't leave that just because she'd have to move.

She could always visit, call, letters. It wasn't like she'd become totally alienated from them.

The only thing she wasn't too keen on down south was the southeners.

Growing up in North-West England as an Irish Catholic kid, you where taugh that they're worse than sin. Monsters who where out to reduce you to dust, but Clara and James didn't seem like that so maybe it'd be okay ?

After a few more minutes mindless conversation began, a finally relaxed atmosphere of untopiced talk and a small debate over whether the Cure or the Smiths where better.

"Oh we've actually brought our other two children with us, we just wanted to get to know you first before we bombarded you with Luka and Mauve."

"Alreat, it'd be nice to meet 'em."

Clara gave another beaming smile before leaving the room to get them.

She already knew a bit about the two children of James and Clara, they'd come up in conversation at the begining.

Luka was adopted as well. He was sixteen, two years older than her. He played the drums and was a punk, something that  y/n thought was one of the coolest things since the walkman. Mauve was originally their neice but her parents, James' brother and sister-in-law, had died in a plane crash when she was nine months meaning she'd been living with them for as long as she could remember. She was six and wanted to be an artist when she grew up.

As they waited for her to return with the others, James started the conversation on the Beatles back up.

"So, favourate Beatle ?"

"George Harrison."

"Really ?"

His face filled with surprise,

"Most would say McCatney or Lennon."

"Aye, but did Lennon and McCartney write Here Comes The Sun ?"

"That's your favourate song ?"

"No, but is a good tune like."

"Fair enough."

Before the short conversation carried on, the squeaky door opened to reveal a leather trousers and vest wearing spikey blonde haired teenager. He looked like a teenage version of Billy Idol. He wore an ACDC top with the leather outfit and had smudgy eyeliner on.

She felt so underdressed.

Holding his hand was a small girl with brown pigtails on either side of her head, a plain, pale pink top and high-waised blue jeans with red and pink flowers and a large purple butterfly embroided up the left leg. She had a denim jacket on with a few band pins on.

Okay even a six year old was better dressed than her.

This is depressing.

1996

Y/f/c fabric stroked against the red carpets of Earls Court as y/n made her way back over to Blur's table with a tray of drinks that she'd been asked to go and get for the boys by one of their management team that was attending the event. They where sat on the edge of their seats collecting the award for their third nomination of the night when she'd left. By the time she had made her way back to the seats, they where all sat down and eagerly waiting for their drinks to numb tge pain of yet again being beaten by their mancunian nemises'.

She gave a light tap on her boyfriend's shoulder to tell him not to flinch whilst she put the tray on the table, knowing soneone suddenly appearing from behind him would make him move. Once she had placed the slight dewy tray in the center of the table, she felt a pair of hands rest themselves on her waist and a gentle force pulling her down into the lap of none other than Mr Alex James.

His scent of cigarettes and colone took over her sences as he pulled her in for a short and rough kiss. After a moment, they where deattached by y/n needing her glass of champagne. She took a large sip before moving herself off of his lap and onto her own designated seat right next to him, not without a whine of complain from the brunette.

She gave a small laugh at his pouting face.

Whilst Chris Evans gave two awards for the solo artist catagories, Blur tuned out of the show. They didn't need to listen to them seeing how they weren't involved in them awards.

Graham had busied himself complaining to y/n about how unfair it was and how they where going to get killed by Food if Oasis beat them in the British group catagory, whichcwas next after the female solo artist award.

Alex shushed the pair as the radio host began to speek again, after Annie Lennox had left the stage with the award identical to the three Graham had just told y/n about..

"And the nominees for the British Group award are ; Blur, Lightning Seeds, Radiohead Oasis and Pulp."

Cheers echoed through everyone's hearing, the table growing silent in antisipation. They all knew that if Oasis beat them they'd never hear the end of it from the men's management.

Trying to ease the built up tension, y/n placed a hand on Alex's tensed one, the one which was starting to grip desperatly onto her waist as if not only would he loose the award but also her.

"I bagsy first shoutout when you win and have to do a speech ."

Alex gave her an unamused look, quickly been silenced by Evan's next word.

"Oasis !"

Y/n's mood dropped along with the rest of the table's, the rowdy lot she lratically grew up with swaggering their way to the microphone again.

The second flute of golden champagne was finished off as she slouched in her chair and tipped the glass up over her mouth and nose as the strong accent pounded through the speakers. All she could think of was how much he'd changed since she'd saw him last.

"His accent's so fake."

A mutter under her breath caused confusion amungst the band, she hadn't realised how loud she'd said the words, or that she'd said them outloud at all.

Her boyfriend turned to her, his arms dropping over the head of her chair and his attention being pulled away from the mockery on the stage. Alex gave her a bizzare look.

"How ?"

The girl froze like a deer in headlights for a second, eventually coming up with a believeable answer

"Well, you know. I'd lived in Manchester my whole life up till I was fourteen and i've never heard anyone's accent be that strong."

She shrugged off the question with a simple answer, turning back to the stage to watch the Gallagher brothers walking off, not without Liam catching her eyes and giving a look.

"I'm going to the loo."

She rushed pushing back of her chair back caused a sort of russle from the carpet to sound quietly. Almost robotically, she grabbing her clutch bag and walking off before anyone could say anything.

Y/n walked calmly out of the double doors that led to the fresh air circulated foyé, not going to the toilets but instead waiting for the appearance of the man that she knew would follow her.

A few seconds later, none other than Liam Gallagher strolled through the double doors that had been taunting y/n, acting like he owned the place.

"Well 'ello Birdy. Long time no see 'ey."

A smirk graced his features, she'd never wanted to punch someone in the face so much, not even that witch of a head-nun from the orphanage.

"What do you think you're playing at Liam."

Her hand rested on her hip as she spoke, she didn't need to worry about anyone overhearing the reunion conversation seeing how everyone was in the main hall, like she was suposed to be.

"Oh nothin'. Just wondered if that little boyfriend of yours knew who you really are. Y'know, I don't thing he be too happy if he knew you grew up with us and r'kid."

"Oh shut up."

She scoffed at his comment, anger appearing more distinctivly on her features.

"Nah like, all i'm saying is you use that posh accent like you're not just one of us."

She gave a further look of annoyance at his words.

"Look lad, just 'cause I have pronunciation-"

"You wearing Chanel ?"

At his rude interuption of her point-making, y/n scoffed. She looked down, becoming slightly silenced.

Okay so she was wearing Chanel. Her dress, diamond strapped heels, her crossbody bag, even her stud earings.

"Not that it matters, but yes I happen to be wearing Chanel."

Also, since when did Liam pick up the ability to desyther if a dress was Chanel !

An obnoixious laugh echoed through the empty room at her answer, he was somewhat annoyed with how she was acting while she was down right fuming at how he was behaving.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"What d'you think you're laughing at."

''Ah just, he doesn't know you at all 'ey"

"What are you going on about Liam ?!"

She ran the chipped y/f/c polished nails through her hair.

"Why are you being so bloody difficult right now."

Okay. So genuinly getting emotion right now.

Her old bestfriend, her only bestfriend ever, was shooting a million and a half questions at her but answering none of her's.

She wanted this interaction to be over.

She wanted Alex, but she was starting to crave for Liam's approval all over again, like she always had done as a kid.

She was so annoyed with herself.

"Y'know, you've changed Birdy. I don't know what story you fed them posh southern bastards about your upbringing which made them accept you, or whatever relationships you 'ave goin' on, but all the money in the world can't scrub off the smell of council estate."

With that, he walked off.

His words hurt her.

Liam Gallagher had been her rock growing up, the person who solved all her issues, the one who stopped all the pain and misery.

Someone made fun of her ? Liam stopped it.

She spent her last 30p trying to contact the grandparents she'd found the number of through sneaking through records ?

Liam was always there to tell her how they didn't deserve her.

When she got adopted and moved down south, she lost her bestfriends and her support.

She found a small amount of comfort in music still, a connection to Manchester through Revolver, eventually getting a job as a article writer for Food Records. That's also when she'd met Alex, working for Food at age eighteen.

He was touring, she was working.

Her mind ran back to Liam's stinging comment.

Sure she'd improved herself to be acknowledged in the patriarchle society she worked in, but she hadn't changed per say.

She talked more properly, but that was because people couldn't understand her northen accent.

She wore nicer clothes, more expensive brands. Still that was because she like nice things, not in a egotistical was, just she thought they looked pretty and she could afford them. That wasn't changing, she would've bought them if she lived in Manchester still and could afford them.

Sure Alex didn't know exactly that she'd grew up with the Gallagher brothers, but that just hadn't really popped up in conversation.

He knew she didn't grow up in the nicest of places, but he didn't care for her background's status like he did alot of the time with other people, he just cared about her.

To both y/n and Alex, she was just a normal twenty-three year old. She had a mum and dad and an older brother who was a big part of her life and a little sister who she adored more than everything under the sun. Over the time Clara and James had been her parents, they'd adopted three more children. Two more younger brothers, Finley and Logan, and another little sister, Zoe. She lived for them, even when Zoe threw up over her favourate jumper.

Pulling herself from her memories, y/n sprits some perfume on her wrist and rubbed in it as well as on her neck. She built up some confidence and made her way back to Blur's table.

When she had sat herself back in the comfortable, red cushioned chair, she found Alex looking at her in concern.

"You okay ? You look like you've just seen a ghost Darling."

"I'm fab, don't worry. Want another drink ?"

He gave a hum, handing her the empty glass as she stood up and asked the rest of the group if they wanted refills.

As she walked off something lingered in her mind, a pain stabing her joints.

The smell of council estate lingering around her.