Whenever I post photos, that chick on my page is not Me™ that’s more of my artistic concept model of a ‘girl’ that I happen to have the ability to turn into
happy pride month to those in the closet. to those who went back into the closet. to those who have unsupportive families, friends and relationships. those who were bullied and harassed because of their identity. those who were killed because of who they truly were and loved.
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
Summary: He’s always on that damn ipad..😒
Reader Desc: gn!reader
Content Warnings: angst, fluff?, established relationship, comfort?, pessimistic reader
Word Count: 2.4k
It was quiet. Quiet enough that you couldn’t help the tightness growing in your chest as you sat just across from Damon. He had decided to take you on holiday to the countryside earlier this year than he had on previous occasions, leaving you to assume it was for some special reason of his.
Unfortunately, he had barely paid you any mind this whole trip; already a few days in & he’d been ever so ‘busy with work’, as he often excused himself to. It was no lie, of course, but it made you feel quite lonesome considering this whole thing had been his idea, only recently accepting that he may have just wanted a change of scenery & decidedly thought you should tag along. How sweet of him, you guessed.
During the past week, you were left to wander among the flora unremarkable in comparison to the kind at home, that is, whenever you weren’t sitting somewhere catching up on any reading. And despite granting you a much-needed break from life, this mundane trip had planted a single revelation in you: you’ve felt very lonely for very long. Yes, you had friends & family & felt all-around ‘loved’ by them, but they didn’t call. They didn’t ask for you outside of holidays or the rare chance one of them remembered your birthday. You hated to admit it, but Damon really was your only good friend, even if he minded his own business most of the time.
It was common for you to get home from work eariler than him, tending to yourself & your hobbies in the meantime. But you always made sure to be the one to open the front door for him when he’d work himself overtime, knowing it’s what you would want someone to do for you if the roles were reversed.
You lived for the way his eyes would widen in delight knowing you worried over him, the certain hushed tone in his voice telling you everything was alright and that you should get some rest. Sometimes his glassy eyes would crinkle on par with that silly smile of his which made your heart twist. Albeit it was more often than you’d like to believe that he'd miss a peck on your mouth before rushing to his ‘office’.
Of course, it wasn’t the usual office that came with the usual man. In the same way Damon sees himself in monkeys, you could say the room is only befitting of a jungle. The first thing anyone would notice upon entering could very be the cables and amps wiring the room’s frame. If it weren’t for Damon’s keen tidiness, you were sure he wouldn’t have nearly as many guests over to work on songs with him.
Pushed against the walls themselves were a variety of keyboards mounted on one another wherever there wasn't a bookshelf blocking the deep-colored wallpaper. You knew better than to question how many instruments a musician needed; the synths all looked the same to you but he proved time and time again the orchestra they could become. And despite not entirely understanding the functions of his world, you paid him the best attention you could when he’d allow himself to mouth on about amplifiers, modulators, oscillators, all the things he likely knew better than himself. In fact, that very enthusiasm was one of the many reasons you loved him.
With all of the things he's experienced, you could say he was much more of a prospective optimist than you could ever be, & that in on itself was easy to grow dependent on, so while you could assume most couples simmer out of that electric romance after the first number of weeks - it was a natural occurence & even expected - with him it had been sickeningly constant. Something best compared to having one more smoke before bed. Hazardous in the long run, sure, but you could live with drowning in the sharpened infatuation for another night. It wasn’t as if it weren’t reciprocated anyway; he was incredibly vocal about you, & even moreso touchy - which should have been impossible for someone like him.
It ate you alive knowing that there was no partner the universe could have assigned to you more doting than he, yet here you were, always craving away. You assumed it had to be some fourth, secret law of Newton's solely to validate yourself - you know, the more Damon gave, the more you wanted. It was a never-ending ache you felt for his touch, his tone, frankly, just the idea of him. All you knew was that it wouldn’t change if your distance expanded by countries or a few cushions on a sofa.
⋆˙⟡
Now, at the current moment, you were engulfed in said silence with one of your favourite novels open in hand. The pages were yellowed and worn, common for the state of most things you tend to love. You cherished your ever-growing collection of novels, especially those you sought out from your youth. This particular story, you would call a classic, but any book is entitled to be appropriated as such if it's read by any notable scholar. It was a comfortable hardcover you’ve had for a most of your life, Damon, on the other hand, had been entertaining his silver slab beacon of leisure since he’d returned from some session of sorts.
It annoyed you how much he used that thing. You would never tell him, but it was near ridiculous that he had to bring it absolutely everywhere. Excusing himself to a fear of phones - as if the ipad wasn’t worse, being thrice the size of one.
The television hadn’t been put on at all tonight, so the constant digital clicks of his screen & your rare flip of a thinned page was all that had kept you company outside of your thoughts. Your gaze occasionally falling on his hands - the way he’d hold the side of the tablet, his fingers stroking the surface of the lit screen, enthralled in his own world. It was kind of impressive, the position his hand was in to hold it. You know, it probably didn't weigh like much to him. It was the same as when he played guitar; the thick cords never seeming to sting him after ages of playing. Or the way they'd caress you during sunrise. He had always preferred having you during daybreak - he had a certain palate for the heady warmth of it all.
If you were being honest, you hadn’t read a sentence in ages. Actually, you couldn’t recall what you had been skimming for the past couple of minutes, if anything. The cool air that arrived with dusk didn’t help either. You were sure he was cold too; he had to be. Or maybe he was perfectly warm right now & that’s why he hadn’t mentioned a thing.
You couldn’t make out what he was looking at from your position on the couch, the serene look on his face alone blooming a buoyancy throughout your chest. You wanted to be upset at him so badly but he looked so sweet sitting there, ignoring you, periodically reacting to whatever it was he was reading.
You scoffed at your own ridiculous train of thought, Damon asking if you were alright a moment later.
"Don’t remember that book being one to laugh at."
Your eyes artlessly shifted back onto your pages, arms crossed tightly across your torso in attempts to seal in both the cold bitterness escaping you and the bitter cold seeping through your pijamas. Part of you didn’t want him to question you, already being irritated as is, but the other half was praying he’d notice.
"Just something I remembered."
Neither of you spoke for the moment; you, watching him watch you from the corner of your eye before he absentmindedly returned to whatever he must’ve found more important.
Over the course of the following few minutes, you sighed & puffed an uncomfortable amount until you finally picked yourself up & off the sofa.
"You going to bed?" he dared question. Was he aware of your mood and ignoring it? Or was he simply this oblivious? You decided it didn't matter.
"Yeah, I'm feeling tired." Your brows narrowed into one another until you disappeared down the hall. You should’ve kissed him goodnight, or at least told him so.
You shook your head at the thought. He could’ve told you goodnight himself if he really cared. What you really needed was some alone time to cool off.
⋆˙⟡
You tossed your novel onto the bed, an unintentional burst of energy missing it by the ledge & of course the floor had to be just brash enough to make its tumble overly loud. You noticed the downpour outside once clicking the door shut. Damn it, you forgot to close the window this morning.
You were too exhausted at this point to go back out there for paper towels, so you sauntered to your side of the bed, a small puddle at the windowsill & a hand at your forehead.
The cardboard seams of the novel’s cover had absorbed whatever water was left when you delicately lifted it from the ground. Thank goodness it had only fallen face-up. The pages were still recoverable if you left it somewhere warm to dry, nice and spread open.
You looked behind you towards the door & back to the book. You hadn’t noticed immediately, but some of the middlemost pages had begun to smear & stick with grog. You sniffled before throwing the book entirely into the bin next to the bed. Gosh what an idiot. Sure, you could find another copy elsewhere. Just because it had years of notes within its margins didn't mean it was one of a kind. Every copy is a 'one of a kind' if you really thought about it. You shut the window & tucked yourself under the blanket. All alone, though not long enough to cope.
Maybe you had been drifting back and forth from a state of slumber but you could swear you hadn’t had a nearly respectable amount of peace tonight. You were already facing the door by the time Damon came in.
"Sorry, I thought you were asleep." The blue light beneath him emitted off his growing stubble as the door closed. God did you think it looked good on him. His cool eyes hidden by the bloody glare of the tablet reflecting off his glasses. You forced yourself to look away.
"I heard something a bit ago."
'Yeah who didn't,' you thought.
"You know, I don’t know what it is I’ve done wrong but it’s not exactly helping if all you’ll do is avoid me."
He sat himself at the end of the bed in front of you, beginning to coax a response from you as soon as his hand met your covered thigh. It pissed you off how easily he could fold you despite your withstanding efforts. A breath escaped your nose - maybe out of guilt for worrying him. As much as you wanted to blame him, he likely couldn’t guess exactly what was up with you.
"Oh, what happened there? Is that-"
You followed his gaze, a huff escaping you, "It got soaked by the rain."
"That rain?" he gestured to the storm behind the glass. His attempt at humour only made your guilt sink deeper. The sound of drops hitting the window was suddenly interrupted by a notification.
"Damon, please, could you stay?"
The least he could do was let you bask in his attention before bed.
You motioned to the smooth, slim shape lying flat & open on his lap, still glowing against the hollow depth of the room. "Being on that all the time can't be good for you, you know."
He didn’t respond immediately, instead changing his seating, pensively. His tone was comforting despite the concern etching itself onto his face.
"You know I use it for work. I don't talk to any women if you're-"
"No, wow-" you interrupted, "that’s not it at all."
Thinking he was cheating on you hadn’t even crossed your conscience; you knew what kind of man he was. Well, maybe now that his mate got divorced for being caught doing so, you should keep an eye on him. Birds of a feather or whatever.
"You spend a whole lot of time on that ipad in general, Damon." you began, feeling a familiar sort of dreadful heat creep up your face as you avoided him. Now that you were saying it out loud it sounded quite ridiculous compared to his first reasoning.
"Sometimes I feel like you don’t realise I’m around when you’re on it. Or that I’m just not decent enough company."
His palm stroked up your thigh comfortingly as he thought, pouting his mouth. And just as you were beginning to enjoy his presence for the first time since this holiday, it surprised you how promptly Damon put his tablet away, cutting your thoughts point blank as he ran his hands through his face & made his way back to you.
"I love you, you know that?" he took your hands in his, making sure he was in your orbit.
You nodded.
"Do you?"
"Yes," you promised back, though he only shook his head with a newfound determination.
"Can’t have you being jealous of an ipad. D’you know how that sounds?" His whole body was in bed now, making you move over to give him space. "Makes it sound like I ignore the love of my life."
The confidence with which he said that swelled your heart near the point of forgetting your whole one-sided conflict. He pulled you in, body pressed to your side as his hand waltzed along your figure, chin grazing on your shoulder, leaving you with an immense gratefulness that he ever put up with you.
"I’m sorry if I made it seem like I’ve been neglectful; it’s been a hectic couple of months," He kneaded your hip & looked at you so sweetly you would’ve thought you were a slice of pie. Pecan, maybe, if you considered yourself a nutcase.
It was quiet between the two of you for a moment & a moment only, the room’s chill leniently blocked by Damon’s steady proximity.
“Why don’t we spend tomorrow together, alright?” he mumbled to you.
“We should spend tonight together, actually.” The look on your face pulled a stifled laugh from him.
“We have been spending every night together.”
“You know what I meant. Please?” your hand met at his wrist & you couldn’t even imagine the expression crossing your eyes. Only that his own misty ones divulged a general idea.
“I don’t know.. I need to wake up early tomorrow & we’re up late as is.”
“On holiday?” you pressed.
“You look exhausted.”
“Are you making up excuses now?” you gasped a chuckle in retort & he exhaled. You knew you've felt absolutely drained for the past couple of days, but taking the time to make love to you would easily assure you of his standing.
“Tomorrow morning,” His arm wrapped around you with means to convince you. “Promise.”
i was looking at your masterplan a few weeks ago and you had a few tguy fics with noel and blur etc, but I just checked now and they're not on it anymore, have they been scrapped? ☹️
sorry yeah I don't plan on writing for noel or liam anymore due to not supporting their politics & they make it difficult for me to want to write for them. I'm going to post my last damon fics when the time comes but I don't like graham or alex enough to write anything for blur as a whole. I'm certain there are plenty of good writers on here who may be up to making tguy fics for britpop fans but for the moment at least, I won't be
Britpop Misc.
Flesh For Fantasy // Blur & Oasis Halloween fic (crack) You run away from your wedding & get involved with a cute vampire and two alluring werewolves all whom despise one another
Oasis
Give Me Something // Liam x reader (🍋🟩) You're at the 1995 Brit Awards for your new record and Liam Gallagher can't stop gravitating towards you, John Lennon's controversially young girlfriend.
A Heart's Decay // Liam + Noel Gallagher x reader (crack) Reader wants to get frisky with the Oasis brothers but she gets the ick
Dirty Maggie Mae // pirate!Paul McCartney x reader (crack) Your cellmate, Jack, tries to seduce you (consensually)
Not Guilty // 1968!George Harrison x reader blurb (angst/fluff) The two of you spend a day in the garden figuring out what's next for the band.
Beatles Headcanons
One Of These Days // oblivious1965!Paul McCartney x reader (fluff) You catch feelings for Paul during the filming of Help!
Elvis Presley
T-R-O-U-B-L-E // Elvis Presley x fem!reader (angst) You're Elvis' forever lover, and he is yours - even if he leaves you on your feet.
