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babymockers · 4 months

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I was going through my drafts the other day when I found this, written in the peak of my Graham Coxon obsession, a couple of years ago. Since it's so long, I had to cut this story into two parts (I was very creative 🙄).

I don’t know why I’m sharing this, but enjoy!

"I can’t see what you see in me"

Graham Coxon x female reader.

Prompt: Graham was having a really hard time with himself during a photoshoot and you had a great idea to cheer him up. Heavily inspired by Blair and Serena stealing Eleanor Waldorf's clothing line clothes on Gossip Girl (s1, e4).

Place/time: during the late 90's.

Reader description: reader is a French model trying to make herself a name in the industry, while being reduced to be in her boyfriend's shadow.

Fluff.

Part 1.

Graham was alone.

He was sitting on his stupid chair, drinking tea from his stupid cup, feeling even more stupid than he did before.

Now, for the amateur eye, he didn't seem that much alone. He was surrounded by people: make up artists, stylists, cameras, all that stuff. But he was, in fact, alone. Alone and bored.

Also, it was a terribly cold winter and a storm was probably coming at any time while they were stuck there working outdoors in a park.

So he was falling asleep on his stupid chair. Again.

Suddenly, he heard an excited voice calling his name, a voice that he knew a little too well from the person that he loved the most.

"Graham!" you shouted and he quicky turned his body towards the direction of the sound, standing up. You ran onto his arms and hugged him tightly making him almost lost balance. Even though he was surprised, his arms reached out for your body instinctively.

Still in his arms, you took his face with your soft hands and placed a sweet kiss onto his lips, him melting at the touch.

Alex, sitting next to that romantic scene, looked at you with genuine curiosity, trying to make something of your face. Wondering if you two have met before.

The truth was: you haven't. It may have sounded strange considering that in the past couple of months, you had been omnipresent-like to the Blur guys. Your name was always there, filling not only the empty spaces of the rehearsals but filling Graham's mind completely. You were present whole-heartedly in Graham's dreamy smiles and little giggles that came out of nowhere and in every new song that came with a dumb look of im-so-in-love. Present in the purple-ish marks on Graham's neck or like a stolen kiss from his plumped lips. Present in Damon's laugh every time he made fun of his best friend's infatuation but secretely holding an enormous respect for you that made him feel almost rotten to jealousy. "He doesn't need me anymore. He's got Y/N now. She'll take care of him" Damon used to say. But he didn't meant it. Not really.

You were great, the best one Graham ever had. The other ones were either boring or pretentious cunts, in the singer's own words. But he couldn't help to feel overprotective towards his best friend and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit jealous of the fact that Graham was so in love with you.

Damon loved attention. And Graham's attention was like crack because it was hard to make him interested in someone for real.

And the other times, you were there in body and soul, sitting in a corner taking pictures of whatever you founded interesting enough or simply hanging out.

So it was really weird for Alex to not have met you yet. Sure he heard the name, but Graham had been smart enough to make Alex and you not cross any paths. He knew Alex too well to trust him.

Dave chuckled and wolf-whistled, making Graham's cheeks turn red and he separated his lips from yours, unable to hide the big smile plastered on his face.

He never had anyone loving him like you do. So intense and passionate, so caring and gentle like a little child, rushing into his arms and calling his name for the whole town to hear it. Making him feel special, wanted. You could have anyone but, and here's the big but, you wanted him. And proudly so, as you always said.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you weren't in England" He asked in confusion.

Your smile turned into a frown "And I thought you'd be happy to see me...”

"No, no. Please don't get me wrong. I'm just confused. I mean..." He started to panic.

You cut him off with a big smile "I'm joking, Gra. Turns out i don't have to work this couple of days because the collection got ruined by the rain and the photoshoot had to be rescheduled. The CEO was so angry, you should've seen him. He treated us very badly and that left me feeling sick to my stomach. So I remembered you were having a photoshoot here and I took the plane and well... I got an impulse. It's okay, right? I won't bother you. Just here for moral support" You said in a rush. "Oh, hi Dave". Dave waved his hand. Then you turned to Alex "I believe we haven't met yet. I'm Y/ N". You offered him your hand. "Alex, right? Heard lots of things about you".

He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it "Good things I hope. So you're the famous Y/N". He turned to Dave but shot a quick look towards Graham, who was eyeing carefully at the exchange that was occurring in front of him, looking quite uneasy. "I must say I never expected that our little Graham was shagging such a pretty bird. Where are you from, Love? You've got a lovely accent". Graham tensed.

The awkwardness of the situation was only intensified by him pointing out your accent. You knew Alex didn't mean any harm, but that didn't sooth the rage in Graham's throat.

You've been officially named "Graham Coxon's New French Girlfriend" by the media and while you've told Graham so many times that it was a honor to be his girlfriend, he knew you were more than that stupid title. After all, you had a career of your own. You coincidentally met him at an event and now you've been living together in England for almost a year. But it just sort of happened. It wasn't your problem the media became obsessed with you.

And also you really wanted to get rid of the accent.

You opened your mouth to say something but before anything came out, Graham spoke in a condescending tone:

"She's french, Alex. You should know since you seem to get along so well with the french gals".

"Well... Alex begun.

"Where's Damon? I thought this was a group photoshoot" you interrumpted him trying to distract the tension away.

As if summoned, Damon appeared with a lopsided grin, always in his very own world. He kissed your cheek in a scandalous way and put his arm around Graham, although his best triend didn't even look at him. He was too busy shooting Alex with his gaze.

"Graham, it's fucking cold out here, put something on, mate. Jesus, you look like you're going to kill someone and I'm not in the "hiding a corpse" mood" Damon said completely oblivious to the fact that he was the one wearing only a suit and Graham was wearing a big jacket. Classic Damon. Then, he continued: "Well, the photographer, that bastard, just said he needed both of us, Alex, in front of the camera 'cause, I quote him: "Alex could make the suit work 'cause he's a good looking fella". I told him he could kiss my ass or my face, whatever. I quite fancy him. But not like I fancy you, Graham" He said battling his lashes, kissing Graham's temple. "You look sexy when you're angry. Love it".

Alex rolled his eyes, tired, and grinned at Graham

"Don't be mad at me, you twat. I was joking". Then he said to you: "Nice meeting ya, doll".

"Careful there, Alex. He's not playing around when Y/N is involved. Quite jealous he is" Damon laughed before the two of them started walking towards the photographer, who was already waiting for them. Damon rushed onto him, giving him a kiss on the cheeks.

You laughed at his childish behavior.

Dave patted Graham's shoulders and excused himself before making his way towards the improvised trailer the team managed to put together.

Graham lit up another cigarette letting the nicotine calm his burning insides and peered over the working crew to see Damon and Alex both wearing 1930's suits and posing as camera flashes exploded in their faces. He sat in a little bench, you by his side: "They look great. I didn't look as great as them".

You took his hand in yours. "You okay?"

"What is it like?" He said after a moment of silence, not looking at you but somehow giving you all his attention. "To be a model, you know. To have all of those people looking at you and telling you to make faces or something".

"Well, it's definitely not as fun as it may look. I used to think that it would be easy, that you only needed to be pretty and you'd be fine. But it's exhausting, actually". You smiled sadly "I often think l'd be better behind the cameras, being the one taking pictures”.

"You took some lovely pictures the other day..."

You smiled. "And how's it like being a rockstar?".

"Don't let Damon hear you say that. He says Blur's not a rock band. I say Blur's whatever the fuck Blur wants to be". He laughed humorless.

"And what does Blur want to be?" You asked.

"I'm not quite sure. Probably not a rock band".

You both laughed.

You moved your body closer to him. "And what does Graham wants to be?"

"I don't know. He certainly would prefer staying in bed cuddled up with you. Take me away from this big bad world and agree to marry me". He said while he leaned back on the bench, resting his head on your lap and putting your hand on his head, practically forcing you to stroke his hair.

You giggled "Mmm... You just made that up?" He nodded. “It sounded like a song". You said while he looked up at you with a sly smile. You leaned in and kissed his forehead as you started: "Alex..."

He interrupted you: "Alex is a bastard, you should know that. He's far up his arse and thinks he's got the right to do anything 'cause he's sexy or whatever. It doesn't sit right with me sometimes. Let's forget about him". You nodded.

A couple of minutes went by with none of you talking and you thought he was falling asleep. You loved watching him sleep. It was like all the darkness there inside of him left his body and he was finally at peace with himself. Then he broke the silence: "Do you find him a handsome bloke?"

You struggled, trying to find the right words "He's alright. Big egos aren't really my thing, though. I think you're way more handsome than him".

He frowned "You can't possibly think that. It doesn't take too much to see that Alex and Damon are more attractive than me. I'm awkward and too self conscious. They're the handsome ones. They could "sell the product". And I-I-I'm not, you see? I don't sell the product. I’d probably won't look half as great as them in those ridiculous 1930's suits. I don't sell what Blur wants to be. Fuck, I don't even sell myself. I'm just here...”

You took his hand in yours, leaving a kiss in it "I think you're all those things you said about them. You're there being yourself with all your flaws and strenghts. And I think that's beautiful about you. You don't need to sell the product because there's no product at all. You're Graham Coxon, not the guitarist or the guy from Blur. You're the person and you're the most attractive to me because you feel and you love in a way that none of them do". You looked at his eyes intensely. "And you also look quite sexy when you're jealous, Damon's right, I must say”. You added, trying to relieve the tension on his shoulders.

He gasped, pretending to be offended "I wasn't jealous".

"Sure you weren't" You said mockingly causing him to laugh.

Then he went silent again.

He sighed "I just can't see what you see in me".

You looked at him. The tenderness in his factions. His big brown eyes full of the melancholic feeling that consumed him daily.

You just knew he was more than enough. You knew since the first time you met him. He was incapable of holding your gaze yet somehow he managed to got you blushing all night. He didn't knew a single word of French yet you understood him so well. You communicated through your souls. Words were unnecessary.

Graham, so fragile and so broken. Yet, he put together the broken pieces of yourself, the ones left bruised. Now you were glowing, sparkling.

You wanted to do the same for him.

Part 2 here

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #blur band #damon albarn #alex james #dave rowntree #Graham Coxon au #Graham coxon x female reader #blur au #graham coxon fanfic

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nxctrns · 11 months

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....So uh. Transistor au vashwood anyone?

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #I've had like one thought about this au and how well it would fit these two and then i forgot about it for a few days #until i was watching a video that used transistor's ost #after that it was a blur and before i knew it #this appeared on my csp canvas

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nofacednerd · 10 months

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more of that bfu mawsm au also a closeup of that cat, specifically:

#my adventures with superman #mawsm bfu au #my art #doodles #I CANT DRAW MOTION BLUR :wail:#I tried my best here #clark kent #lois lane #jimmy olsen #anyway how often do you guys think this happens

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buggachat · 2 years

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Part 118 of my bakery “enemies” au!

First / Prev / Next / All

Kofi

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrinette #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #my art #bakery enemies au #if anyone's curious about the ''last updated'' its just a byproduct of him viewing the folder a lot--#like maybe he noticed a duplicate image and deleted one #or found a new image online that he didnt have before and added it #doesnt matter how it was updated just goes to show that it's not some Old Forgotten Album That He Forgot About #ALSO THE BLURRED SEARCHES ARENT ANYTHING WEIRD they're just blurred because theyre irrelevant #something something ''top 10 baking puns'' something something ''how to tell if your father is lying about joining a prison gang'' idk #blurred because marinette didnt pay them a second thought because they didn't include ''ladybug''#fun fact: i almost had him google something like ''5'3 black hair blue eyed freckled women around the age of 19ish near me''#but i didnt. ur welcome. or maybe im sorry? idk

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roadkill-creatures · 6 months

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dtiys for @sandeewithtwoe :] liked the original image idea so cool and pain t !!! 👍

#sandee1kdtiys #utmv #undertale au #ink sans #i gave up painting and just blurred his legs dont look at them

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jae-in-a-trenchcoat · 1 month

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Human broppy!

#all the posters and albums in the background are just blurred pictures #i couldn’t be effed drawing them #I don’t normally (ever) do human designs for characters who aren’t #but I was pretty happy with this!#that’s just a fraction of poppy’s music collection #trolls #trolls fanart #trolls human au #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy #queen poppy #broppy #branch x poppy #my art

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enbysiriusblack · 2 months

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wolfstar will always be that old couple that thinks all 70's pop culture is superior to anything new. they get so judged by hari who's decked out in a blur tshirt and baggy jeans and chunky cardigans and wears tracksuits when he's not exercising and has a growing cd collection. remus, to him, is so old and uncool other than his smoking habit and cardigans, and although sirius will always be the pinnacle of cool to him, he can't believe his godfather still wears flares and solely uses records and thinks some band called 't.rex' are better than nirvana.

#(ik canon harry doesn't care about being cool/pop culture but this is non-war au where lily and james never dies and he has a normal life)#dorcas and marlene are the actually cool and trendy ones. they stay very much up to date and dress accordingly #(only thing is that they're both very much oasis fans over blur. but at least they know the bands unlike wolfstar)#marauders era #marauders #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #hari potter

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spamsandsuch · 1 month

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okay old art/unfinished wips ive never posted before. Some of these are from 2022

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uzealocks · 4 months

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SoS/Song of Sorrow by @snuffydoo

#tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc au #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanart #The image was so large that it had started to blur slightly #faints #song of sorrow au

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forgettingcrowbin · 8 months

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Palette with a bazooka is really funny to me in a positive way (actual awe of his newer designs!!!) 😊💙

Palette by @/lasserbatsu (you are the coolest ever)

#my art #sans au #utmv #utmv fanart #crowbin art #palette roller #palette sans #I keep on posting because I am honestly not in my right mind lol #Im so overtired everything has a blur lets goooo

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zenubi-scribbles · 4 months

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Jan 1st + Monday ("Moon Day" in Japanese)? Yep, felt like I should draw Moon God Sans again created by @aka-indulgence. Thank you to everyone who liked my previous Moon God Sans fan arts. Here's my thank you back after so long. The Tumblr compression/resolution thing is wonky with this one. "aka-indulgence" or someone else I know can PM me if you want to see the true resolution pic. I was trying to stick to the canon design. That...did not happen. Zen is too weak NOT to draw tattered clothes and other non-canon stuff. Top: Final image, darker background Middle Left: Lighter Background Middle Right: Inked Version

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babymockers · 3 months

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And, finally, here’s part 2.

"I can’t see what you see in me"

Graham Coxon x female reader.

Place/time: during the late 90's.

Reader description: reader is a French model trying to make herself a name in the industry, while being reduced to be in her boyfriend's shadow.

Fluff.

Part 1 here

Part 2.

You looked back at Damon and Alex. "I know you won't believe me, Graham, but you'd look so good in one of those suits."

"Y/N, you've got to be joking. They told me not to....

"Uh-uh. You'd look great". The look on disbelief on his face made you stand up, a sudden urge of something you didn't exactly knew made it's way through your mind. You offered him your hand "Come with me, come on". He looked at you hesitantly. "Come on!"

He took your hand and followed you. "Where are we going?" You didn't muttered a word. He panicked. "I can't leave them here. They need me-"

"We're not leaving them. Just trust me. I'm taking care of you right now'. You said.

You walked together through the photoshoot set, passing by numerous photographers, make-up artists, among other workers, until you reached the door of a sort of dressing room, where a variety of suits, shoes, shirts and hats were placed on hangers. At the top of the door, a small sign read: "Blur 1930's England Inspired Photoshoot. Authorized personal only". You turned the handle, mentally praying that the door was open. Luck was on your side, though, as the door opened without any struggle.

You entered the room, Graham right behind you, and you quickly began to inspect the clothes, looking carefully at the sizes. Some of them were even marked with Graham's name. But you ignored them. You went for the expensive ones, the ones designed to be worn only by models.

Real models.

Graham shouted-whispered "What are you doing?W-We're not even supposed to be here, Y/N!"

"Oh but that makes it more exciting, doesn't it?" You said, picking up a few clothes. "I don't see why we shouldn't be here, though. This is a 'Blur' photoshoot".

"Well it is. But we're only allowed to be here when we're needed. I can't put any of this on until Damon and Alex are finished".

"So we're not even stealing. We're just anticipating ourselves".

He looked at you in disbelief "You're insane!".

"And you're too cute to be true". You kissed his nose. "Come on, let's get some clothes for you." He shook his head, unsure. "Gra, trust me. It'll be alright. Do you trust me, baby?" You knew he would melt at the 'baby' thing. Graham loved nicknames.

He muttered something you didn't understand but he was still there anyway, so you thought he wasn't really that mad.

"Ok, ok". You said, placing all the pieces of clothing together in front of Graham. "Ta-da! There you have it, you'll look amazing in this".

He scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know. I shouldn't be wearing any of this by now. I'll probably look bad".

"Honey, you're gorgeous, relax. Besides, if anything happens I'll take the blame here and there.

"I can't let you do that!". He said, frowning.

"Of course you can. You need to have fun. Worry less and look at this hat, isn't it pretty?" You placed the hat on his head, in an unintentionally rough way, making him chuckle. "And it fits your head so well!"

"Love...".

"Just put this on. You know you want to".

"Love, I just don't really know if I should..." He took the clothes in his hands, hesitant. Then he looked at you. And, maybe for the first time in forever, he was able to see in himself a little bit of what you see in him. The way that you looked at him made him feel weak to his knees. And it also made him feel confident, adrenaline rushing through his veins and his eyes sparkling. "Oh, fuck them!".

"Fuck them". You said coming over him and kissing him passionately, his eyes now filled with lust. You detached yourself from his grip and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. "I'll go watch the door. You go change”.

Graham started to laugh, changing himself in a rush. "I don't even know why we're doing this. This is childish".

''Cause it's harmless fun. You deserve to have tun".

Graham looked at himself on the body mirror, a smile coming onto his face while he let out little giggles. He thought this was ridiculous, but, in some sort of way, he was starting to enjoy himself. So, when he was finished, he couldn't help to think that he didn't looked that bad after all.

So you reassured him, knowing exactly what was going through his mind (you've been together for 2 years for god sake!): "You look amazing. You really do. You look better than anyone else in here".

"You think so?" He asked as sincerely as he wanted your answer to be, looking at you with his big eyes, showing all parts of himself through them. The fear, the self consciousness, the crave for validation that he usually hide in drinking evenings and quiet stares. All in his eyes.

He felt comfortable being vulnerable around you. He was a vulnerable soul after all. He needed protection and trust, someone who was able to connect with him and stand by his side no matter what. And, after years of dead end streets and pointless roads, he finally found what he was looking for. Someone as confident, smart, funny, warm hearted and trustworthy as you. For him, you were like a rush of energy in lazy mornings and comfy sheets in a cold evening. He couldn't even try to deny one scary fact: he was head over heels.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him with the word "love" written all over your face. "Yeah. You kinda fit the vibe. You're so beautiful, Graham". And you meant it, you really did. Besides, you always thought Graham was like a young boy from the 1930's, so you weren't just rambling. He was a natural with his little hat, his big blazer and his cute shoes, something so romantic about his little funny outfit that made your heart filled with the most intense and loving feeling.

He was truly something else, so different from anyone you've ever met. One of a kind, really.

You both leaned and connected your lips, kissing each other with less passion than most of the times and more in an "old couple" kind of way.

Then, suddenly, Graham bit your bottom lip, deepening the kiss while leaning over your body and holding you in his arms in a very movie-like way, causing your laugh.

"Stop doing that, you idiot! I'm going to fall!" You shouted while laughing. Graham leaned even more, practically making your head almost touch the floor while your legs were up in the air.

"No, you're not, Love". He said calmly, although the smile creeping over his face was apparently impossible to erase. He was making fun of you!

He was absolutely the worst.

"Graham, I'm dead serious!" He leaned over even more (as if that's possible!). "Graham!".

He stopped there, just looking at your mortified face, grinning like an idiot.

"I swear to God, if you don't put me on my feet again I will..."

He gave you a kiss on your neck, causing butterflies to throw a party inside your stomach.

Then he gently did what you asked for, letting your feet touch the floor and helping you stand up, resting his head on yours.

He won't admit it (Graham was such a funny stubborn-ass sometimes) but he secretly wished you were a lot more shorter than him, so he could put his chin on top of your head. It's not like you were the same height as him, I mean, you still had to look up at him and all, but he couldn't do that specifically. So you would usually lower yourself or you would stand on your tippy toes to make you look even taller, depending on your mood. Right now, you went for that second option, pretending to be mad.

He knew you weren't, though. So he bit your cheek, making you laugh.

"Stupid boy" You muttered bitting your own bottom lip, repressing a wider smile.

"I love your accent". He said out of nowhere, catching you off guard.

"What was that for?". You detached yourself from his arms, looking puzzled.

"Nothing. I just really love it". He smiled, holding your waist again and his gaze intensified on your lips. "I really love you". His voice almost a whisper.

You sighed, your heart pounding in your chest "I love you too".

And even though Graham still struggled, those were the most sincere words he ever heard in his life and no one could ever convince him otherwise.

So he believed you. He had no other choice.

"See? Now you can go there and be all this pretty in front of the camera". You said, wide gummy smile plastered on your face.

He melted inside.

And, also, he completely forgot about that.

So Graham, allowing himself to be carried by the moment, said this exact words: "You know what? I don't care about this bloody photoshoot. I don't care about any of this. Let's get out of here". And he offered you a hand, the same adventurous hand you offered him before.

"What? But, you have this photo shoot..." You looked around. Then to him "You want to drop out?" You asked, looking for something in his face that would made you realize he actually didn't want to do that. But there was just Graham.

Soft-spoken Graham, staring at you with his burning gaze and rebellious smile. Asking you to be his partner in that little war he called his work and the aftermaths of leaving it.

So you had no other choice.

After all, it was still raining outside, with a storm coming any time soon. They'll probably have to cancel their plans anyway. And the crew will still get paid, just like Alex will still be an asshole the next morning and Damon will definitely be unpredictable about the situation, but that was just Damon. And then Dave... Dave couldn't care less. As long as he could get some sleep right now, he'd be fine. The manager will be furious, of course, but that was just his work. The world will still be moving and the press will be thrilled.

So there was really nothing new.

The first signs of a big storm started to make it's way through the area. Outside the wind was going stronger and the temperature was dropping colder. Graham looked at you, his body temperature was a warm contrast to the weather conditions.

He quickly took some female 1930's clothes for you that were hanging there. He looked at you.

You looked at your purse, inside it was your camera. You saw his eyes sparkling.

So, again, you really had no other choice...

How could you ever say no?

Then, suddenly, Graham was not alone anymore.

The end.

#graham coxon fanfic #graham coxon x reader #graham coxon #damon albarn #alex james #dave rowntree #blur #blur band #blur au #graham coxon au

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kingmaxstatic · 6 months

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Decided to do my own take on a "Surge and Kit but swapped with Sonic and Tails" au! I also included Starline swapped with Eggman for a bit of spice.

#Sonic #Sonic The Hedgehog #Sonic Au #Sonic IDW #Surge The tenrec #Kit the fennec #starline the platypus #STH au #Au: Green Blur

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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Blurred Lines 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The next day, you arrive to an empty house. After Nick’s stormy mood, you’re grateful for the respite. Despite your efforts to forget his comments, to not let them seep too far into your head, you spent most of the night thinking of your marriage; of your widowhood. You’ve worked through most of those emotions but you’ll always miss your husband.

Around noon, you receive the crate of bottles you ordered the day before. The man who drives the large truck offers to bring them inside. You’ve noticed that as you get a few finer lines and a little more cushion, others tend to treat you as fragile. You don’t complain. Liquor is heavier than you would assume at a glance.

You thank the driver and send him off, returning to the den to sift through the box. You keep the glass cabinet open and pluck out the empty glass, or those with barely a sip left in them. Nick does the same with the milk; if there’s even a drop left, he’ll put the carton back. Not his problem, a new one always just appears.

You take the decanter and swish around the dregs of scotch. It wouldn’t be much of a waste to dump it, that amount will barely cover the bottom of a glass. You set it aside with the matching crystal glasses. You need to wash them.

As you line up the newer bottles on the shelf, you feel a buzz in your back pocket. You pause and wiggle your phone free, putting it to your ear as you work with one hand. Clunk, slide, clink.

“Hello,” you trill as you squint at another label. You’re supposed to wear glasses to read but you consistently leave them by your couch.

“Mom,” your daughter greets bluntly, “what are you doing?”

“Uh, Joey?” You lower the bottle in your hand, “everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, I just... I’m on my break and wanted to call you while I have the chance.”

“Break? You’re at your internship?” You ask brightly, “how is it? Amazing?”

“Erm, sure,” she utters.

She sounds disappointed. Concern trickle down your neck, she’s only ever been excited about school and her future. It’s what you admire in her. She’ll go so much further than sorting out liquor and dump spoiled almond milk for some rich guy.

“What’s going on?” You prompt again, facing the cabinet as you set down another bottle.

“I... I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. It’s a lot of work,” she mutters and you hear her biting her nails. An old habit she hadn’t had since middle school.

“Honey, your nails,” you gird, “it’s new. You’re learning. Give yourself a bit of patience. I’m not saying it isn’t hard, but don’t be so hard on yourself. You can do it but you know what, even if it isn’t for you, I’ll be proud. You know I only want the best for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbles, “I just don’t want to let you down.”

“Never,” you assure her. “Take a few breaths, have some water, and no more caffeine. It will only make your anxiety worse.”

“Yeah,” she sniffs, “yeah, I did have an extra shot in my latte.”

“Alright, well, you call me later. Take your break for yourself. You know I’m always here for you, honey.”

“Love ya,” she resigns with a sigh.

“Love you too. Hey, if you need a break, let me know. We can make it work.”

“No, no, I can do this,” she insists, “it's only week two. I'm just being a baby.”

“My baby,” you tease and she gives and ‘ech’ which makes you laugh, “alright, we'll talk later.”

“Yep, bye, mom.”

“Bye,” you tap the red button and look down at your phone.

For as much as got nostalgic about your youth, you don't miss the uncertainty. You slide your phone away and something scuffs. Nick clears his throat and draws your attention.

“Sir,” you greet, wondering if he'd heard any of that, “just in time, I'm sorting your cabinet.”

“Mm, so you are,” he struts over, a hand in his pocket. He wears dark slacks and a button-up without a tie. “Family emergency?”

“Nope, everything's under control,” you shrug and take out a bottle of cognac. You place it with the rest.

You hear glass clink and turn. Nick uncaps the crystal decanter and drains what's left of the scotch. He eyes the container and puts it back on the table.

“What's your poison? Wine? Cocktails? You seem the type,” he muses.

“I only drink on special occasions,” you say. “Whatever's on special.”

“Mm, and Saturday? You sounded like you had a few. Pretty early too.”

You wince and look at him. You hadn't thought you were that obvious, especially over the phone. Well, he did say he reads people. You suppose you're not that hard to decipher.

“Two dollar mimosas,” you slip the empties into box and close the flaps.

“Mm,” he scoffs, “bubbly.”

“Gives me heartburn,” you say dismissively as you pick up the box. “Did you need anything, sir? Should I make lunch?”

He squints as you and sucks in his cheeks, emphasizing the squareness of his jaw.

“I'm having people over,” he states.

“Right, I'll get the good porcelain out,” you say.

“Work,” he intones. “You can't be here.”

“Yes, sir. I'll have the food done and kept warm in my absence.”

He nods. You don't ask questions. It's part of your job. Just do what he tells you and be on your way.

“Sure,” he says dully and spins on his heel.

He walks off and you carry the box through to the backroom. There's nothing unusual and yet it feels abnormal. Those last few days just feel off.

Work. The word echoes with an edge in your head. Ah, well, that's the crux of most human stress. You suppose, much like your daughter, Nick must be feeling the pressure. He might be your boss but someone up the line is his. That's just the order of things.

🥃

A night to yourself is welcome. Joey messages to say she’s okay now and she won’t bother calling you. You know by her Insta that she’s found friends to keep her company. You hope they can also offer some reassurance.

You settle in with a book on the sofa, eager to retrace your way through the last chapter you can’t quite recall. You don’t get further than a few paragraphs before you pass out. You sink down into motley dreams that sway between reality and fiction; the villain of the novel resembles your boss a bit too closely in your mind.

You wake with a start at the steady rattle of your phone against the end table. You reach up blindly, feeling around to still its buzz. You check the display, expecting your daughter, but instead you’re met with ‘Private’. You already know.

You check the time. It’s close to two in the morning. You sit up and yawn as you let the call roll through to your voicemail. You bend forward and rub your eyes, groggily rubbing your forehead. You’re stiff as hell. You know better than to sleep on the couch.

The phone starts again, shaking your hand. You answer it. If he’s trying a second time, it means he must really need something.

“Hello,” you creak out through your dry throat.

There’s rustling on the other end and some murmurs, but nothing clear. You tilt your head and press the phone closer, hitting the volume button with your thumb as you try to discern the noise on the other end. What is going on?

“...baby...” Nick’s tone is silty and low and met with a fluttery moan. You gulp. It can’t be. Flesh claps and he growls, “you like that, huh?”

You hang up before you can hear anything else. Oh god. You throw the phone across the room and shake out your hands. Yikes. You’ve been the victim of a pocket dial but nothing ever like that. You wonder how it even happened.

Well, you try not to think about it too much. You get up and move your book onto the table. You don’t even dare to touch your phone, leaving it on the seat of the chair. You’re too tired for all this. Hopefully, sleeping in your own bed will wash it all away.

🥃

You talk in with Nick’s dry cleaning over your shoulder. You’re not shocked to find the house in disarray. Social nights are often met with grim mornings. It seems of late that both come more and more frequent.

You set down the garment bags on hangers and stop in the kitchen to put on a brew of coffee in anticipation of another of your boss’ hangovers. The aroma rises as you cross the tile floor and snatch up the suits and shirts. You hesitate at the bottom of the stairs. Like days before, you suspect he also has some lingering company. You wonder if it’s better to wait and put away his clothes once you are certain.

A long rumble distracts you from your dread. You turn and walk towards the broad archway that opens into the front room. Somehow you hadn’t noticed the body on the couch and now you regret that you have. Nick’s bare ass flashes you from across the room as he lays with his shoulders curled forward and his head under a pillow. He must’ve had quite the work dinner.

You tiptoe across the room and pick up the mussed throw from the floor. You drape it around his waist to cover the most intimate part of him. He groans and brings his arm up over the pillow.

“Baby,” he mutters and roles onto his back. You swiftly catch the blanket before it can expose him further and keep it over his middle, letting it fall across his pelvis. You can only do so much as his dick springs up beneath the waffle knit. “Why don’t you get on it?”

You nearly choke at the suggestion. He still has the pillow over his head as his hand crawls down his muscular torso, reaching for... that.

“Baby is gone,” you cross your arms, “coffee is on, sir. Would you like a cup?”

He grunts and retracts his hand, pulling the pillow from his head and hugging it to his stomach. He blinks, his brow furrowed in surprise and chagrin. He stares at you and lets his head loll.

“Mm, guess it’ll wake me up just the same,” he mutters as his eyes flick up and down. “Morning, honey.”

“Morning, sir,” you hike up your armful, “let me get these hung and I’ll get your coffee.”

You turn as he sighs and the couch creaks beneath him. You don’t look back, wary of seeing more than you already have. It’s not unlike him to have his little get-togethers and to indulge but it’s a bit much. If you thought he’d be honest, you might ask if something’s wrong. Then again, your his maid, not his therapist.

“And Advil,” he calls after you, “maybe put some whiskey in the coffee, too.”

You nod and march to the stairs. Minding your boss isn’t too much different than raising a child, though you think Joey was much easier to deal with. And not so demanding.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #au #maid au #the 355 #nick fowler x reader #blurred lines #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic

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