#damon albran x you

[leaawrites]

She's the one I'm running with

Damon Albarn x fem!reader

Summary: when everything falls apart, at least they still have each other.

Warnings: the press, fluff, maybe messed up timeline and behavior

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

“Do you ever wanna run away?”

A simple question as that had started it all, well maybe not everything. The press was there first, as always. Whether it be in front of a restaurant they were eating at one night or outside the studio whenever the band recorded a new album. They were there to take pictures of every situation, hoping to capture just the slightest glimpse of unintentional imperfection. Something more raw than laughter on a TV show or dumb comments in an interview or on stage. They wanted the real faces of every celebrity and they’d do anything to capture just the right moment for a new headline. They’d write anything to have their name printed as a footnote under the newest headline.

‘Damon Albarn, cheating on long-time girlfriend? Is there trouble in Paradise for the power couple of Britpop?’

Everything was a question and over the top. Everything was what it was never meant to be. A bloated stomach was a pregnancy and a new ring was an engagement or secret wedding. Everything one did, when it was seen by the public, was a form of violation. Whether it be against the fans or the own closest circle, someone always had to be hurt. Something always had to be dramatized.

The newest of them all finally drew the line for Damon, it made him ask that one specific question.

“In what sense?” she’d asked, playing with the sleeve of his grey shirt and looking up at him from her position on his chest.

“Just go,” he answered with his hands tangled in her hair. “Let’s just pack our stuff and go somewhere quiet. Without all the cars and people, just us.”

“OK.”

And that’s what they did the next morning. Damon called the band, saying that he needed some time off and that he wouldn’t be available for the next three weeks or so. Let’s say, they weren’t all too happy with his call. Y/n asked for the holiday she’d been putting off and her extra hours, before starting to pack their bags. Not too much, not too little. They wouldn’t be doing much, she knew that. He hadn’t actually told her what he’d planned for them, but she was willing to follow him anywhere.

She was sure of that at last, when she climbed into the car and looked over at him. His face highlighted by the golden sunlight that was still rising above the buildings, catching all the little details and making him stand out for her like he did the first time she’d seen him.

Taking out the film camera that was hidden in her bag just in case, she captured the moment, hoping it’d come out alright and good enough for her to put it into the box with all the others she’d been collecting over the past two years.

At the sound of the shutter going off, Damon turned to her with a slightly playful grin on his face. He hated the pictures others took, but hers, he loved them. He’d let her follow him with a whole film crew if it meant that he got so see the smile spreading across her face whenever looking at him or the video she took, the photos she gave him at every end of the year since they met in college and became close friends. At first it were mostly of the band at rehearsals, where she’d been invited to by him in particular, or at gigs, where Damon invited her as well to, but over time and as the friendship blossomed to something more than light banter and occasional flirting, the pictures of him became more too until they filled the whole album. He’d look at them on nights when he couldn’t sleep or was feeling lost for inspiration and read through the small notes or poems on the side of every page with a smile on his lips - he still did that - wishing that her words were only meant for him and no one else in the band, until they were.

And now she was his and he was hers just as much, a dream come true.

“What?” Y/n asked, looking at him with knitted eyebrows and an unsure look on her face, like she waited for the hour long speech about pictures once again.

“Nothing,” Damon simply shrugged, starting to tap his finger to the beat on the steering wheel and looking at the road ahead. “Your smile is just absolutely beautiful.”

The drive to their destination was an hour and a half, all in which they were talking or singing or sitting in silence, solely enjoying the other’s presence with them. Stopping the car, Damon looked from the little cottage he’d rented over to the girl in his passenger seat, asleep. He couldn’t just wake her now, could he? Deciding on the easiest way to get her into the warmth of the house, Damon went over to her side of the car and picked her up, carrying her inside.

Opening her eyes, Y/n was greeted by the fireplace burning in front of her, her body slumped against the cushion of the sofa and Damon nowhere in sight. Sitting up, she looked around the little space out of wood until her eyes landed on the figure standing in the kitchen, staring puzzled down between a small piece of paper and the pot boiling in front of him.

Not noticing his girlfriend waking up, Damon almost let out a scream as he felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his chest and a head nuzzling itself into his back, inhaling the scent of his shirt. Looking down at the hands clasped around his middle he smiled, recognizing the ring. The one, whose meaning the press weren’t wrong about.

“Hello, love. Slept well?” He asked, continuing to try and cook the pasta like it was scribbled down on the little paper by her mother.

“Yeah,” she answered, not moving.

“Hope you’re hungry.”

“If it tastes good,” she teased.

“My food always tastes good,” Damon argued back, looking over his shoulder to see her stifle against his back and shaking his head at her behavior.

“It’s not even that bad,” she complimented as she tried the first bite, her nodding in approval as she was still chewing.

“Thank you, chef,” he answered with the same attitude she had been talking with earlier.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Damon said into the middle of silence, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette, before handing it over to her.

“About what?”

No matter how much people might deny the fact that she was supportive of her boyfriend and complain about how little times she was seen at gigs or festivals, she truly cared about everything going on in his mind and how he chose to express it.

“A new band,” he answered, making her turn her head in his direction.

“What about blur? Don’t you wanna try and keep that up? I mean, you’re so popular.”

“I wanna try something new, you know?” She nodded in understanding, aware of the fact that he’d been trying out different styles for quite some time now. “Blur is good and all that, but I believe there’s more in my creativity than ‘Britpop’. Do you remember that guy Graham was obsessed with, Jamie Hewlett or some? He’s the comic artist and we’ve talked about music as such these days and all that. What do you think of a band made out of comic characters?”

“What?” The idea sounded absurd, unimaginable even. With all those people around that were catching on fame, all those real people everyone liked to talk about when life got too boring for them, how would a group of fictional characters fit in there? Though, the more she thought about it, the more it intrigued her. An real fictional band in a world so unreal. It made sense of some sorts.

“Tell me more.”

“We have some vague ideas as of now, nothing solid though.”

That’s how they spent the next few weeks, talking and brainstorming ideas, sometimes with Jamie on the phone. Falling asleep between scribbled notes or with an open song file lulling them to sleep. It wasn’t their ideal idea of a holiday activity, but at least they got to do something just for them for a little while. It would be available to the public in time, but at least now, nobody could ask them about it.

It was just theirs.

Their little world to hide away from reality in. The one they could run away together to.