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#damon albarn fanfic
damonjuicyscock · 2 months
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Heya Loviiiies
I'm done with auditions ! Do you know what it means ?
It means a new chapter out this weekend !
Can't wait for you to read it.
Hope you're all doing okay and taking care of yourselves.
See you on Sunday !
DJC❤️
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animulnitrate · 11 months
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AND THE GODS MADE LOVE... . *. ⋆
somewhere between the past, present, and future..
damon x reader.
:word count: 515
The night's atmosphere seemed a bit thicker than usual as the shooting stars made a twinkling sound before reaching the ground.
The days were usually long but each night you shared was longer than that night before. It was like an occurring dream. Warm waves of pink and purple danced around your core as you slowly slipped deeper into a haze… deeper… deeper.
So desperate to reach that destination, your landing point. So many miles away, but so close. You could feel him.. with you. Or were you dreaming again? You've always wished on that star, hoping it would grant you some time of power stronger than anything known to man.
You came down from your high, the saturated view slowly faded to that dark and gloomy color you called earth. This was no place for the man you yearned for, he was too good. Too mesmerizing. Your eyes looked up at the sky, squinting as the sun interrupted your view of the clouds shaped as a rose?..
A waterfall?...
The wind kissed your skin as you looked at your surroundings. You were distracted, not noticing the cars honking at you as you stood in the middle of the road. You jumped, crossing the street frantically to get to the coffee shop you normally do your readings at. Your journal was in your hand, gripped firmly as you pushed the glass door open.
The regulars greeted you with smiles.
“Hi y/n!”
“Y/n I can't wait to hear what you have today!”
You could only smile back, running on 4 hours of sleep because you couldn't stop writing. You sat at a table, folding the leather book back so the pages welcomed you with a fresh canvas. A few feet away from you, you heard a familiar voice. The voice carried a raspy, whispery, british voice.
There was a faint smell of cigarettes, catching your attention as your neck snapped around quickly. There he was. Your hand slammed the journal shut. You could feel your soul already eager to jump out of you, but you weren't ready to get out of your seat just yet. You examined him, seeing if he would sit down as well.. which he did.
The vibration of his chair scooting out sent a shock through you, which made him also seem to react in a way. He shook his hand as if there was a sensation that surprised him. How odd.. You two nearly made eye contact, but you couldn't risk it. You knew him, but he didn't know you. You were aware of what was happening, and you weren't crazy for thinking about it. 
“Y/n, you're up!”
You heard the host speak, setting the mic up for you. You nervously stood to your feet, your knees shaking. You walked, stopping so the mic was nearly centimeters from your lips while you wished they could have been replaced with his. Clearing your throat, you spoke.
“Hey everyone.. Im y/n..” This quickly caught Damon's attention, his pupils dilating, and yours. 
“This ones called; “And the Gods made Love.”
god help me i hope y'all like this... part two?
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stellatekintsugi · 2 years
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Damon Albarn
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lundenloves · 1 year
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final platforms chap is up
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babymockers · 3 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
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ciaraloveswriting · 4 months
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- requests & guidelines
people i'll write for
••••
- ryan ross
- noodle (gorillaz)
- 2d (gorillaz)
- damon albarn
- graham coxon
- alex james
- gerard way
- spiderman (any variation, i do love tasm! tho so
and probably more; so feel free to request anyone else. these are just the people who come to mind immediately.
••••
feel free to request one shots or full ass story ideas
i will do smut at request, but i wont do it if the person its about is against it. (if i know, so be the bigger person 😭)
••••
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"I Want This So Much"
Pairing: Graham Coxon x Female Reader I imagined 1999, 2000, or 2001 era Graham as I wrote this fan fic, but feel free to imagine any Gra era you'd like! Word Count: 4,479 Warnings: No warnings, except this fan fic is EXTREMELY smutty and involves period sex. Brief mentions of blood and other bodily fluids. Prompt: No real prompt, just an idea I've had for a while! Period sex with Graham. That's about it! Note: This fan fic is the first one I've written in ages and ages and ages and I am quite nervous to post it. Please be kind! It's a very unserious exercise and I wrote it purely for my own entertainment and enjoyment, but I ultimately decided to share it on tumblr despite feeling really shy and anxious. Writing this sexy fan fic gave me a lot of joy and I hope you all like it! Lots of love! ***
I suddenly wake up from a deep sleep and feel intense pain shooting through my abdomen, lower back, and thighs.  My foggy brain registers period cramps.  Thoroughly exhausted, I quietly groan and lightly shift my weight on Graham’s bed.  It’s almost pitch black in Graham’s room, save for the moonlight filtering in through his bedroom window.  It’s completely silent, aside from the rain tapping on the window and Graham’s soft breathing as he sleeps soundly next to me.  I shift my weight again and glance at his sleeping figure under the covers.  His back is facing me and his hair is disheveled.  I watch his body gently rise and fall and I fight the urge to run my fingers across his bare shoulders.
I shift my weight a third time and reach for Graham’s bedside table in the darkness.  I contemplate turning on his bedside lamp, but I don’t want to disturb his sleep.  Another wave of period cramps shoots through the lower half of my body and I wince as I grasp my water bottle.  I sit up on my elbows and take several small sips of water.  I force myself to roll out of bed and stand up.  I suddenly feel lightheaded and my legs shake as another wave of pain hits me.  My water bottle still in hand, I slowly walk several paces to the end of Graham’s bed and feel in the dark for my duffel bag.  I carefully make my way into Graham’s bathroom and when I step onto the cool tile, close the door behind me, turn on the light and drop my bag, I lightly gasp at what I see.  My period has definitely started, and in the most dramatic and messy way possible.  My underwear and thighs are heavily smeared in blood and I sigh in frustration. 
I immediately peel my bloody underwear from my body and rummage in my bag for a clean pair.  I put in a tampon, clean my legs, and pull on a pair of sweatpants.  After taking several tablets of pain medicine and drinking deeply from my water bottle, I step back into Graham’s bedroom.  I notice his bedside lamp is on and he’s propping himself up on his elbows to look at me.  Squinting at me with a curious expression, he studies my face as I walk back to his bed.  Graham obviously wasn’t sleeping as deeply as I thought he was.    
“Why are you awake?” he asks groggily.  “I rolled over and reached for you, but you weren’t there.” 
I bury myself under the covers, turn off his bedside light, and move my body towards him.  “Really bad period cramps,” I say softly.  I feel him move his body close to mine in return.  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him, nuzzling our noses together as he presses his forehead into mine.
“Oh,” he whispers.  “I’m sorry.  Do you need anything?” 
“No,” I answer, and I curl myself into him.  His body is so warm.  I breathe slowly for a while.  The pain is awful, but not unusual for the first day of my period, and I know I just have to wait for the medicine to take effect.  Graham holds me in silence.  I whimper as another wave of pain hits my lower back and he kisses my cheeks as I say “owww” several times in a row. 
I reposition myself and turn over so my back faces him.  His chest now pressed against my back, he gently moves my hair and kisses the back of my neck.  I sigh happily as his warm hands first reach under the back of my shirt and then reach under the waistband of my sweatpants.  He gently touches my waist.  He moves his warm hands across my abdomen and lower back as he attempts to soothe me with his touch.  He always does this when I struggle with period cramps and I bite my bottom lip in contentment.
“Do you want the heating pad?” he asks, but I shake my head. 
“No,” I answer quietly.  “The medicine will kick in soon.  Your hands feel nice.” 
He kisses the back of my neck again and holds me in silence as I wait for the pain to recede.  As the pain disappears, I feel myself falling into a deep sleep.  Graham kisses the back of my neck several times before gently pulling his body away from mine.  In a matter of seconds, sleep pulls us under. ***
The following morning is cloudy.  Rain steadily patters against Graham’s bedroom window.  His room is exceptionally cozy.  I open my eyes, register the comforting sound of rain, and roll over onto my back.  I prop myself up on my elbows and immediately feel the dull pain of continued period cramps.  The pain has significantly lessened, but a minor ache spreads throughout my lower back and I force myself to stand up, stretch, and take additional pain medicine.
I hear Graham’s voice coming from the kitchen.  I smile as I hear him softly singing to himself.  I hear the whistling of a teapot, the clattering of utensils, and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing when I hear him sharply curse.
“Fuck,” he says loudly, and just a few moments later he’s walking back to his room holding two steaming mugs.  His eyes light up when he sees me. 
“What happened?” I laugh, and he smiles and shakes his head. 
“I accidentally slammed my fucking finger in the silverware drawer,” he says, handing me a steaming mug of hot chocolate.  I see he made himself a cup of tea.  He kisses me good morning, motions for us to sit on his bed, and we bury ourselves under the covers as we happily sip our drinks.
“Thank you for making this for me,” I say, taking a long drink from my mug. 
“You’re welcome,” he answers.  I flush as he leans over to kiss me deeply again.  We sit in silence for several minutes as we finish our drinks and listen to the rain.  It’s so peaceful.  Graham collects our empty mugs and places them on his bedside table.  My period pain has almost completely disappeared and I feel so content.  Graham looks at me and begins gently stroking the back of my right hand.  His fingers tenderly moving up the back of my hand, across my wrist, and up to my elbow, then back down again.  I break out in goosebumps at his touch.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks.
“Better,” I answer.  “My cramps are almost gone.” 
He nods and his concerned expression turns to one of relief and contentment.  We sit in silence for several moments and I enjoy the pleasurable feeling of his fingers moving against my skin.  Graham shifts his weight on his bed and suddenly rolls his body on top of mine.  I smile and laugh as he pulls a funny face and settles his body weight on top of me. 
“Am I hurting you?” he asks.  “Are you uncomfortable?”
“Not at all,” I answer, and I laugh as he contorts his face into another ridiculous expression.  I playfully slap his bare shoulders and he laughs in return.  He looks into my eyes for several long moments and his gaze is so loving and full of want that I’m forced to break his eye contact.  Even after all this time, the intimacy is sometimes too much to bear.  His hands find my hair, my hands find his hair, and we’re kissing so deeply and passionately until I have to pull away to take a breath.  Our cheeks flushed and our gazes locked, he tells me he wants me.  I bite my lip and smile and am just about to kiss him again when a thought flashes through my mind.      
“Are you sure?” I ask.  “You want to now?  I don’t want to stain your sheets.” 
He laughs warmly and averts his eyes to a spot just beside me on his bed.  “I think you already did,” he says smiling, his dark eyes moving between my body and a massive smear of dried blood on his sheets.  He leans back to allow me to sit up slightly and glance at the spot of blood on his bed.  I’d somehow completely missed this spot until now.  I flush with minor embarrassment.
“Fuck, Graham, I’m so sorry – “ I start, but he immediately cuts me off.
“I don’t care at all,” he says, laughing warmly again, his eyes looking into mine.  “It doesn’t matter at all.  The stain will come out or it won’t.  I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened before, seeing as we’ve done this so many times…” 
He trails off, his brown eyes slightly glinting, and I look back at him and laugh, my embarrassment forgotten.  He leans his body weight down onto me again, my fingers intertwining into his messy hair, and I close my eyes as he places light, fluttering kisses across my neck.  I lightly gasp as his mouth covers every inch of skin across my neck.  I run my hands across the back of his neck and shoulders as he deepens his kisses into my skin.  I run my fingers through his hair and gently pull as his tongue runs across my skin and his mouth sucks on my earlobe.  His warm breath against my skin; his kissing still so deep and tender; his hands running through my hair as I grip his hair; and I let out a small moan as his tongue dances across me again. 
I pull harder at his hair and he makes a small noise in return.  I bite my lip and smile when I hear the noise; he is so perfect and so beautiful.  “Graham,” I breathe, “this feels really nice.”  He slows his kisses, then comes to a pause as he looks at me, his mouth red and swollen.
“I want this so much,” I say, and another small noise escapes his throat indicating that he wholeheartedly agrees.  He kisses me deeply for several long moments and I feel his tongue push into my mouth.  I open my mouth to receive him and we’re softly moaning as our mouths work steadily together.  Our mouths moving perfectly together, I’m forced to break away and gasp for just a moment when I feel his hands slide under my t-shirt and envelop my breasts.  
His touch is confident, but gentle; firm, but tender, and I close my eyes and lose myself as his hands work against me.  I lift my arms above my head and he swiftly removes my shirt.  I breathe harder when he replaces his hands with his mouth and tongue.  His tongue now dancing across my chest and his face buried into one breast and then the other, kissing, sucking, and nipping at my skin.  I pull his hair again as his mouth sucks on my right nipple.  More than anything, though, I love listening to the noises he makes as his mouth works against me.  He moans into my chest several times; his moans muffled, but passionate, and I can’t stand it, it sends my mind spiraling. 
“That feels so good,” I pant, already feeling like I’m losing myself.  My mind clouds with pleasure at his touch and I lean heavily into these feelings.  He removes his mouth from my left nipple and looks up at me, a small smile on his lips.  He immediately returns his mouth to my breasts, then moves his mouth up slowly, tortuously across my neck, then down to my breasts again, and then even lower as he maneuvers his body down in order for his mouth to cross my stomach.  He isn’t moving downwards fast enough and it is becoming difficult to bear.  His lips graze my stomach ever so slightly and I whimper as I feel his fingertips dance between my skin and the waistband of my sweatpants.  I start to squirm under his touch. 
I let out a sharp gasp and buck my hips as he quickly pulls my sweatpants and underwear off in one sudden motion.  My clothing now discarded on the floor, I see him smirk and I know he is dragging it out on purpose.  I pull his hair as he plants kisses all over my stomach and waist. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, looking up at me and I smile in return.  He positions himself in front of my legs and I sigh when I feel his hands run up and down my closed thighs.  He gently kisses my knees several times and tightly squeezes my thighs.  Gripping my thighs and gazing directly into my eyes, he commands, “open your legs for me.” 
I flush at this request and feeling his hands still gripping my thighs, I part my legs and make a small noise as his eyes move across my body.  I’m panting now, my hands gripping the comforter and my eyes closed, I’m leaning into the heady anticipation and it’s unbelievably thrilling. 
“Look at me,” he says, and I open my eyes to stare directly into his.  It’s overwhelming because he refuses to break eye contact, even when his fingers reach down to touch my tampon string.  Neither one of us refusing or daring to break such intense eye contact, we stare at each other as he wraps his fingers around my tampon string and gently pulls my tampon out of my body.  I whimper again and bite my lip as I feel him pull it out of me.  Without missing a beat, he wraps my tampon in several tissues, tosses it in the wastebasket next to his bed, and lowers himself between my open thighs.  He pulls a sharp intake of breath.  He says my name several times, but his voice is so choked with arousal and want that I barely register his words.      
He begins kissing all across my stomach, waist, and inner thighs; no patch of skin remains uncovered by his mouth.  He sucks, nips, and kisses all across my inner thighs, teasing me as much as I can stand.  Butterflies dance in my stomach with anticipation and eagerness.  “Fuck,” I moan quietly as I feel his tongue drag across my inner thighs.  My hips slightly buck again in anticipation. 
His fingers gently trace me, becoming smeared with my blood and arousal, and move up and down the length of me before gently parting me.  He taps my hips, indicating that he wants me to raise them, and then I feel his hands slide under me and squeeze my backside.  I moan at the contact.  His hands work against my backside for a few moments as I try to steady my raised hips, but his mouth and tongue begin moving against me in earnest and soon I am riding waves of pleasure that erase everything else from my mind.  I moan loudly several times; it feels so unbelievably good.  I feel him repeatedly push his tongue inside of me and I bite my wrist to prevent myself from screaming.  
My mind sees white and the feelings he’s giving me are so overwhelming that I almost cry out in protest when he pauses for a brief moment and removes his hands from my backside.  He grips my thighs to steady me, pulls his tongue out from inside of me, and eagerly kisses and sucks on my inner thighs. 
“You sound so beautiful, so perfect.  You sound fucking amazing,” he says.  “I want to hear you, don’t stop making noise.”  I open my eyes, look into his, and feel my cheeks flush. 
“How does it feel?” he asks, smirking slightly because he already knows the answer.  Seeing his mouth, chin, and nose smeared with my blood makes all of this a million times more arousing.    
“Really fucking good,” I say.  “Please don’t stop.” 
A low hum of satisfaction escapes his throat.  His eye lids heavy, he lowers himself again.  I gasp and push my hips forward at the renewed contact.  His arms and hands snugly wrapped around my thighs, he buries his face into my body, echoing my moans back to me as I grow closer and closer to a release.  I’m not thinking anymore and he isn’t holding back.  My heart swells with arousal and affection as my hips fall into a rhythm against his mouth.  I feel his fingers massage my center and I moan in pleasure and surprise. 
“Graham,” I choke out as my brain sees static.  Every nerve feels on fire.  I feel his tongue tightly circle my center once, twice, three times, then as his mouth applies additional pressure and he sucks on me, sparks set off in my brain and pleasure rushes through my entire body.  I can’t even begin to form words, I just grip his hair and attempt to steady my shaking legs as I feel his mouth drink me down and his tongue move in and around me.  My head thrown back, moaning and breathing hard, gripping his hair, and his face buried into my body, I couldn’t believe this was happening. 
His mouth works in and around me for several incredible moments and he lightly kisses everywhere he can find as my breathing slows and the pleasure recedes.  We lay together; my breathing slowing down and my eyes closed, his head resting on my stomach that gently rises and falls.  Our hands now intertwined as he plants gentle kisses and leaves small smears of blood all across my waist and abdomen.  No words are spoken for several minutes.  He eventually pulls himself up, settles his weight on top of me again, and touches my chin to look into my face.  He kisses me deeply several times before pulling away and asking, “do you want to keep going?”
“Yes,” I breathe.  “I don’t want to stop.”
He nods, kisses me again, and swiftly pulls out a small tube of lubrication and a box of condoms from his bedside table.  He shifts his body weight off me and stands next to his bed.  He opens his tube of lubrication, applies it generously across his fingers on his right hand, and then positions himself back onto his bed.  Kneeling in front of my open legs, he gathers additional lube and applies it against me.  Propping myself up on my elbows and staring into his face with a slightly amused expression, I ask, “do you really think we’ll need all of that?”
He laughs and shakes his head.  “Probably not,” he says, “but I want you to be comfortable.”
“Are you ready?” he asks, as he slowly parts me again and moves his fingers through me.  Desire floods through me again; I want him so badly.  “Yes,” I gasp, as he gently taps my center.  I nod eagerly; my back slightly arches and my hips push towards him, silently begging him to continue.  He slowly and carefully inserts his middle finger into me.  I bit my bottom lip and moan at the contact.  His finger slides in easily and my body doesn’t resist.  I hear him pant and moan slightly as he moves and arches his finger inside of me, my hips involuntarily buck again as he hits something inside of me.
I grip the comforter and moan at the sensation.  “It feels so good, Graham” I say.  He does this for quite a while, his finger repeatedly hitting something deep inside of me that makes me cry out.  “Want to try another one?” he asks, his voice deep, low, and intensely focused, but I peek at his face and his expression is completely consumed with arousal and desire.  “God, yes,” I say, and I gasp as his index finger slides in easily next to his middle finger.  He pulls both fingers out, then back in, then out, then in again at a steady pace, which he increases slightly as my moans and gasps become louder and more frequent.  His fingers push just a little harder and my hips buck at the sensation when I feel the fingers on his left hand massage my center at the same time.  I arch my back and move my hips in rhythm with his hands; I know I’m losing myself.
I hear him breathing hard, panting, and moaning as his hands work over my body.  I flush deeply as I feel a second orgasm building up within me.  I somehow flush even deeper and moan loudly as I hear him moan and say – partly to himself and partly to me, his voice full of amazement – “you’re so fucking wet for me.  You feel so good.”  A warm sensation of pleasure rushes through me at his words.  “Graham,” I say, panting heavily and practically begging, “I’m so close.”  Suddenly, he pauses his movements entirely and I allow my back to fall onto the bed in frustration.  I groan loudly.  “What the fuck?” I practically shout, and he laughs as I run my hands over my face in mock annoyance.   
He reaches for the lubrication again, removes his fingers from me, and applies additional lubrication to his right hand and across my entrance.  “Ready?” he asks again, his tone slightly cocky, and I groaned yes in answer.  With excruciating and deliberate slowness, he inserts his middle finger into me, then his index finger, and finally his ring finger on his right hand is inside of me and I moan at the sensation of his touch.  He resumes massaging my center and moving his fingers in and out of me.  My body works in sync with his hands and the same desperate noises I made earlier return. 
“That feels so good, that feels so good, that feels so good,” I repeat as pleasure careens toward me.  My hips buck up, my thighs shake, and my brain sees static as pleasure engulfs my consciousness.  I continue to moan as his fingers work inside of me, easing me down from my orgasm, until he gently pulls his fingers from me one at a time and collapses his body weight on top of me as his mouth finds mine. 
“Graham, Graham, Graham,” I repeat over and over again between deep kisses.  He pauses our kissing for a moment, looks into my eyes and says, “open your mouth.”  He raises his right hand and brings his fingers to my mouth.  I grip his wrist and eagerly suck on his index, middle, and ring fingers, tasting and swallowing my own arousal and blood.  Small, quiet moans escape his throat as he watches my mouth and tongue move across his fingers.  Our eyes locked together, we don’t dare break eye contact as my mouth moves to suck on his thumb.  Moaning around his fingers, I finally release his thumb from my mouth with a pop and he shakes his head in bewilderment, stands up, quickly removes his jeans and boxers, and reaches for his box of condoms.  He’s fully naked now, aside from a thin silver chain around his neck.  We hold eye contact for several long moments as I watch him carefully unwrap and delicately roll on a condom.
He climbs back on top of me and holds me close to him for several moments.  He wraps me in his arms and buries his face into my neck before planting light kisses all across my jawline and chin.  I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.  I know that I never want to let him go.  We breathe together for several wonderful moments, our breathing synching together as our chests rise and fall.  He whispers my name and I glance up at him.  We kiss deeply and passionately for a few moments until he pauses, presses his forehead against mine, and asks again if I am ready.  I say yes.  A shuddering, unrestrained moan leaves his mouth as he slowly pushes himself into me and he breathes heavily into my neck.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, attempting to control himself.  “You feel so good.”
He kisses me, presses his forehead against mine again, and speeds up his movements, my hips working to match his rhythm.  Watching him fall apart because of my body was sheer ecstasy.  His breathing quickens, he moans tight in his throat, then moans louder and more frequently.  His eyes close in concentration and focus, his cheeks flush as his hands grip the comforter for support.  I roll my hips up into him again and I beg in a choked whisper, “more, Graham, more.  Deeper, please.”  He does, and he moans loudly as he finds a new speed and force that suits us both.  He's panting heavily now, moaning repeatedly, and I can tell he’s close.  It’s always amazing to me how well we find a rhythm together.  Breaths and moans exchange back and forth, I know I won’t have another orgasm, but being this close to him always makes me feel so unbelievably happy.  He loses himself entirely and can’t hold himself back: he pulls out and pushes back inside of me one, two, three times before his body shakes and he collapses onto me.
Time passes – although we’re hardly aware of it – and we lay together.  Our breaths slowing and our mouths softly kissing, we talk and whisper to each other for several wonderful, peaceful minutes.  He slowly pulls himself from me, stands up, and stretches.  He runs his hands through his unbelievably messy hair and I laugh at his expression.  His cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, his silver chain necklace is twisted and backwards on his neck, and his sweaty brown hair sticks up at odd angles. 
“What are you laughing at?” he asks.  He squints at me and sticks his tongue out.  “You don’t look much better.  Clean yourself up,” he jokes.  “You look like you just had sex.”  I laugh again.  He sees my eyes wander toward his bathroom door. 
“Wanna shower with me?” he asks, holding out his hand.  I bite my lip and smile, grab his hand, and he swiftly picks me up.  My arms slung over his broad shoulders and my legs wrapped around his slender waist, he won’t stop contorting his face into ridiculous and hilarious expressions.  I squirm with laughter but his strong arms hold me tight against him.  Happiness and laughter flood through our bodies as he walks us into his bathroom and gently sets me down on the counter.  He starts the shower and warm steam immediately fills the room and fogs the mirror.
“After you,” he motions, pulling his shower curtain back.  I hop off the counter, close his bathroom door, and pull him into the shower with me.  Soon, we’re laughing, playfully pushing against each other, and holding each other close as we lose ourselves completely.  Time always seems to stand still when I’m with Graham.  It’s perfection.
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melodyofhisheart · 8 months
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masterlist 🤍 :
Matty Healy :
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Description of my lover.
Alex Turner :
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Body Paint (The Car Era)
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(I received some messages in my inbox asking if I was using an AI and to answer this question : no, I only use my imagination. I’m french and I study the art of writing and how to write poems in my university, I hope that you’ll all understand.. BUT!! I only use an AI to translate my writing, because my english isn’t perfect aha but I try my best !! (I wrote that without gg translate, I’m kind of proud 😚😚 :)
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Whenever i'm writing or drawing my character, I make sure that this song is available to me. It just.. It feels like their song
youtube
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sias-swthrt · 4 months
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Alright im in a writing mood- what do you guys want from me
edit: YOUR GIRL IS WORKIN AND WRITING!
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warmer with you here
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smut, more smut, age gap of however big u want it (i'm thinking like 20 years). weed smoking. bit of angst. i had current damon in mind but it could be damon from any period between 2017-now. based on the gorillaz world tour.
might make a part 2 to this if it does well because i like their dynamic..let me know if this is something you guys wanna see :)
it was 1am in the dressing room and the band were celebrating after finishing their final show of the tour.
it had been fantastic (you had attended 12 out of the 35 dates). you were lucky enough to be friends with seye, so you were invited on tour for the local gigs (when i say local, i mean the European dates) to watch from backstage and hang out with the band.
you got on with everyone really well; jesse, mike, femi, jeff and even stu - but seye and smog were your favourites. smog was like a father figure to you as he'd always try his best to help you with your TEFL course you were taking whilst on tour - whenever he had the time. you had dreams of travelling to madagascar to teach english to the less fortunate kids there once you had qualified. you would spend about an hour studying every day when not much was happening - either during soundcheck or in the mornings after breakfast. he'd always try his best to help, despite not knowing much about the topic himself.
but damon. damon was the one you were least familiar with. he was always somewhere else, rarely hanging out with the group - he always had better things to do. you had hardly spoken to him - nevermind a one-to-one - as (unless he was performing) he was always either exploring the area with missy, or writing songs in his hotel room alone. but you wanted to get the know him - you just couldn't understand the hype.
tonight, however, damon was there. very very stoned.
as a group, we played a few rounds of cards in the candlelit room before we gradually got bored and the drunken conversations took off. damon didn't say much though, he just sat in his little corner of the burgundy sofa passing a spliff back and forth between femi and himself.
conversations soon trailed off and before long people began to take themselves off to bed. smog was one of the last to go, and he let you know by ruffling up your hair as he passed behind you on his way to the door. it was now only femi, damon and yourself left in the room.
'anyone want a drink?' you asked the suddenly silent room, lifting yourself up from the sunken arm chair and heading over to the mini fridge.
'i'm all good thanks' femi responded.
'damon?' you asked again, offended by his silence.
'not for me thanks' he responded bluntly, not even batting an eye in your direction before placing the spliff between his lips again.
you headed over to the fridge and retrieved yourself a cool can of red stripe before collapsing into the chair again.
'want a toke?' damon asked, offering the spliff across the table.
you hesitated for a second, swallowing the cool liquid before meekly nodding and standing up to take the spliff. you took a drag before handing it back to damon and making your way back to your chair.
but before you could sit down, 'come sit here, so we can all share it easier' damon said, patting the sofa beside him.
you stood up again from your semi-perched position and made your way over to the sofa beside damon. the small (but comfy) sofa. so small that the two of your thighs were pressed together, not helped by damon's uninviting manspread.
'so..teaching english as a foreign language i hear?' damon said, passing the spliff over to you.
'yeah that's right. i want to teach in madagascar one day...hopefully' you chuckle. 'how did you know?'
'i notice you and smog sweating it out every so often. good for you though, it's a great thing to do' he smiled, actually looking at you for the first time you can remember. weird. you thought. he's already charming you and he's said less than 50 words.
'i reckon imma cut, y'a know. spliff's knocked me out' femi spoke out, handing the spliff back to damon.
'alright bud. sleep well. i won't be far behind you' damon said, nodding his head at femi.
you smiled at femi, sending him a subtle wave goodbye 'night femi. see you tomorrow'.
the room fell silent as the door shut. the sudden realisation that it was just you and damon left, cramped thigh to thigh with the whole of the room's chairs empty, made you bolt up from the sofa. 'i'll go sit over-'
'stay'. damon interrupted calmly, reaching up and grabbing two of your fingers. 'it's much warmer with you here' he followed up.
you looked down at him, slumped on the sofa, and it was the first time it clicked in your brain; he really was very attractive. and it was only now you had realised.
you slowly lowered yourself back onto the sofa after no further thought, damon's eyes trained you as you did so. he leant over to the side table beside him and put out the spliff before returning his focus to you.
'can you roll?' he asked, a look of kindness in his soulful eyes.
'n-no. i cant.' you stuttered.
damon leant over to collect the smoking paraphernalia from the table 'i'll teach you'.
—-
'aaand you lick like this' he briefly gazed up at you as his tongue trailed across the strip of gum 'then stick like this' he twirled the spliff around until it was perfectly sealed before presenting the (almost) finished spliff in front of you.
you reached out to take it between your fingers, but only for damon to retract it.
'ah ah. rollers rights.' he shook his head. 'also one final tip: you want to light the end of the roach to burn any extra paper for an easier smoke.' he said, flicking the lighter and doing exactly that. 'now...it's done'.
'but you haven't twirled the end?' you asked, confused.
'that's unnecessary. takes longer to light if you do that. people only do that to make it look pretty.' he smirked, placing the spliff between his lips. 'pretty like you' he said, raising his eyebrows as the spliff bounced in his mouth before he brought a spark to light it.
you were suddenly flooded with embarrassment, the feeling of crimson flushing your cheeks. you stayed cool, though, only sending him a flattered smile.
his chest expanded as the smoke filled his lungs. he tilted his head onto the back of the sofa to exhale - clouds of smoke escaping from his relaxed mouth. his head tilted in your direction, making your eyes meet (as your eyes had previously been revelling on his perfect side profile). he glanced down towards his fingers that were holding the spliff between you, indicating for you to take it.
'oh' your mind was lost for a second; you had completely forgotten that you were meant to be smoking with him. 'thanks' you mumbled, taking the spliff from his fingers and transferring it to your lips.
'can i ask you something?' damon sighed quietly, returning his gaze to the ceiling.
'sure' you said before taking another drag, mimicking his position on the sofa so you were both gazing at the ceiling.
'what do you think of me?'
'what do you mean?'
'like. was the tour shit?'
'what? no! the tour was amazing what are you talking about?' you lifted your head at his sudden expression of insecurity, utterly confused.
'i don't know i just thought i was shit. i'm not the same as i was 5 years ago'
'but you're 54, damon. you were still as charismatic as ever and you certainly know how to engage an audience...that's all that matters right? you're not always going to be as energetic as you were at 25 but that doesn't make you any worse' you reassured him.
'yeh i know. well i don't know. i don't have a fucking clue'
'i dont see a problem, personally'
'really? i just feel everyone expects so much and i just can't meet those expectations anymore'
'but that's okay. people come to gorillaz for the music, and that's only getting better and better. you're fine damon, you still have a lot of energy and charisma.'
he gently sighed, placing his hand on your thigh. 'ok.' he turned to look at you, sending you a smile of gratitude.
'ok' you responded, placing your hand on his. 'although i never got the hype about you' you teased, smirking at him.
'never got the hype huh?' he said before leaning over to plant his lips onto yours.
you pulled away from the kiss, 'until now' you followed up, leaning in to embrace with him yet again but this time with more passion.
you kissed feverishly as his hand came up to cup your waist. he leant in to the point where you slowly leant back, your head on the arm rest as he hovered above you.
his kisses began to travel south, starting at your ear where he paid a lot of attention to, sucking your lobe before whispering 'do you want this?'. you nodded avidly in response. 'darling i can't touch you unless you say so'
'yes i want this' you pathetically let out, upon which he hummed to. deeply into your ear. you were trembling with the combination excitement and nervousness.
his kisses continued, making their way down to your neck where he ensured to leave a mark before they sloppily trailed down your stomach as he had lifted the fabric of your shirt. his tongue found a particular place on your belly that would make you squirm at any sensation, he noticed this and continued to kiss this area of your body aggressively until you were giggling to the point where you had to pry his head from your skin. he grinned cheekily and continued his lowered kisses.
they reached the belt of your trousers where he wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around the leather to undo it fluently. your flies were his next obstacle - he placed a kiss on your belly as he unbuttoned them and slowly pulled the zip down. it was only now you began to panic; your heart rate thumping to the thought of what was about to ensue.
he looked up at you with eyes that asked for consent. with no verbal exchange, you simply nodded your head as you bit down on your bottom lip.
he gently shimmied down your trousers and dropped them onto the floor beside the sofa. the sudden coolness of the room made your thighs erupt with goosebumps. 'don't be scared' he reassured you before looping his fingers around the hem of your pants and pulling them off too.
'just relax, okay?' he said before dipping two fingers into your dripping pool - gently pumping them in and out as he watched your eyes flutter shut at the bliss.
'i want you to watch me' he calmly demanded, removing his fingers and lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders.
he placed a kiss upon your inner thigh as his fingers retuned to their place inside of you, curling up against your walls as you whimpered at the pleasure.
his head dipped between your legs as his nose grazed against your wet clit.
he brought his tongue to your bud, flicking it quickly as he looked up at your to spectate your reaction - fingers still pumping away. he sucked your clit delicately, moving the nub between his lips as you arched your back in desperation, pressing his nose into your juices.
as he temporarily gasped for air, you took this opportunity to pull his chin up and say 'i want more'.
he simply smiled in response and leant back onto his knees to un do his belt and pull out his restrained length from his white boxers.
‘damon what about missy?’ you suddenly thought. the thought of her interrupting your business made you physically sick.
‘she’s back at the hotel. she’ll have no idea. i promise’ he reassured you, stroking his length before aligning it with your entrance. you nodded in agreement.
he took ahold on both of your ankles and placed them onto his shoulders before slowly pushing himself into you, a slight gasp from the both of you as he did so. he brought his hand over to your neck, holding you in a firm choke hold as his hips began to buck into you quicker.
‘fuckkk. damon that feels so good’ you choked out.
‘i know darling, i know’.
he needed this. after his period of self-doubt, he needed the release. he needed to know someone wanted him. and that someone was you.
‘you like that? huh?’ he groaned, pounding into you even harder. you wanted to touch him but you couldn’t - he had you pinned down in a way that made it seem as if you were simply his to use. but you liked it.
‘tell me you like me being inside of you’ he repeated in his booming voice.
‘i like it, damon. it feels so good’ you said, no word of a lie. he really knew what he was doing and he could reach all the right places.
‘there’s a good girl’
you brought your legs down from his shoulders and sat up to press your palms against his chest - insinuating you wanted to be on top. without resistance, he let you. he flopped onto the sofa with wide legs and his dick flush with his stomach.
you straddled his lap, taking his length in your hand before aligning it with your entrance and lowering yourself onto him. he looked up at you in awe as you rode him proudly, your palms firmly clutching his shoulders for added support.
‘damon i’m so close’ you let him know.
‘hold on baby, hold it for me’ he said, firmly grabbing your arse with both hands and guiding it in a way that suited him.
he pushed your bottom up for you to suspend your weight above him through your arms on his shoulders as he pounded into you from below. ‘damon i-i’m going to cum’
‘me too baby, me too’ and as he finished his sentence, you were flushed with a toe curling orgasm as you felt yourself shake over him. he came inside of you not long after with a sequence of deep moans into your cleavage.
you remained on top of him, your body completely worn out as you panted beside his ear. he brought a hand up to your shoulder blade and stroked it tenderly, lifting his head to kiss your neck.
you attempted to lift yourself from him, but to no avail as he firmly cupped you by the waist - pulling you back down. ‘stay’ he said. ‘it’s warmer with you here’.
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damonjuicyscock · 5 months
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Hello y'all, just a little message to tell you that I don't know if I'll publish this weekend.
We had to put my cat down today, I'm devastated so I don't know if I'll be able to write. I'll do my best for you but I can't promise anything, when I'm not in high spirits and I think everyone is like that, it's hard to write, even if it's about something you love. I hope you're well and I'm sending you lots of love. If there's no chapter this week, it'll be here next week.
With Love
DJC ❤️
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animulnitrate · 11 months
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THE BITTER END.
a 230 person capacity nightclub, coffeehouse, and folk music venue in New York City's Greenwich Village, where many artists go for a drink.. or more. :pairing: 2003 damon x female reader :word count: 1469 :warnings: intoxication, smut, cnc, vulgar language???
You were tired and needed something to take the edge off. 
The neon sign could be seen from your peripheral vision, catching your eyes in an instant. Your fingers grazed the brick wall before you walked into the building. You could smell the heavy cloud of cigarette smoke that followed you wherever you went, glass after glass hitting the tables as patrons took shots. 
There was a band playing, many rounds of pool being played in the back. The red and blue lights made your head hurt, but you weren't leaving. You felt like all eyes were on you at this point from the way you stood in the center, but there was a sight of attention. Clapping emerged from the audience once the band finished a song, making your heart skip a beat.
You felt tense, finally making your way to the bar at the end of the room. Bottles of liquor and fine wine decorated the glass shelves nicely as you made yourself at home, scooting your chair in and pressing your elbows on the table. The beaming lights off the ceiling radiated against your cheeks, adding a layer of blush to your skin. You sighed, ordering a vodka cran, which the bartender wasted not another minute making. He seemed to have an interest in you, his eyes staring into your soul as he made your drink. 
“It's on the house.” sliding the glass in front of you. 
You rolled your eyes, annoyingly taking the glass and bringing it to your lips. Goddamn that was strong. There was a man beside you, a cigarette between his fingers and a glass in the other hand. You chose to make conversation, nudging him. 
“Can you believe him? The things guys do I'm telling you.” you scoffed. The man turned to you, exhaling smoke in your face. 
“Love, be thankful he even gave you the light of day.” 
The man's voice was raspy, and he carried a British accent. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. “And who are you?” “Oh, Damon, nice to meet you.” he held his hand out for you to shake, which you declined after his smart remark earlier. “Pleasure.” you looked him up and down with a blank face. You went back to your drink, not realizing how fast it was gone. 
A few minutes rolled by, three empty glasses were sitting in front of you. Hiccuping, you pulled out your phone, sending a few messages to your friends just to make them smile. You heard an eruption of laughter leave Damon and his friends mouths, your eyes moved to look at him as your head stayed straight ahead. It went on and on. Damon could feel your eyes staring at him, causing the older man to turn to you. “Something wrong, darling?” you acted unbothered, shaking your head. “Oh no! Everything is fine.” you still had that pissed off glare on you, and there was no wiping it off. He chuckled, his facial hair moving as he smiled. 
He grabbed your face, your bottom lip poking out. “C'mon honey, where's that smile? You should smile more. You'd look like you're at least having fun.” his voice was cocky, you could tell he had a lot more than just your three little glasses. You roughly pushed his hand away, giving a snarky and sarcastic smile, showing your teeth. He and his other friends clapped and cheered. “Way to go honey!” “Beautiful darling!” all kinds of praises and catcalls were being gifted to you. Your chair scooted back, you stumbled away, as whines echoed. “Aww don't leave.” One of his friends spoke. He quickly shushed them. 
“No, let her walk. She sure looks fit when she does.” His friends gave him pats on the back as they continued downing drink after drink. You could still hear them nagging you on, but the effect of the alcohol helped drown them out. You hated every bit of that interaction, but somehow found it amusing. Wondering what he could possibly be doing now sparked an image in your head. What the hell? You thought to yourself, making an appearance right back into the dimly lit building. You couldn't find Damon anywhere. You turned into every hallway, your stumbling progressing as the alcohol settled. 
Everything was a blur (no pun intended). 
You finally found a door you haven't confiscated yet. You pushed against the metal, the door swinging open as you nearly fell onto the concrete. The cold air from the outside made you become more aware as the warmer air from the inside mellowed you out. You found yourself in the back of the building, red bricks lined up in front of you. 
To your surprise, there stood damon. He was smoking, leaning back and eyeing you. The man let out a low laugh, throwing the finished cigarette on the floor and pressing his foot against it. “What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you.” you couldn't process a comeback this time, you only inched closer to him… and closer… Your breath hitched as he raised an eyebrow, intrigued now that you got his attention. “I- I was just lost.” you tried to think of every excuse in the book, tucking pieces of hair behind your ear. Damon shook his head, not giving you the answer you'd expect. Something like.. “sure you were.” or “right.” Instead, he used his index and middle finger to lure you in, your body listening and following.
You stood in front of him, he licked his lips. There were some empty bottles beside his feet that you noticed, his eyes following where yours went. “Ah.” he bent down, picking up the empty glass bottle. His arrogance was eating you alive. “Get on your knees.” the glass bottle was centimeters from your head, as if he were about to use it. You gulped, your shaking knees meeting with the ground. You felt his hand push down on your collarbone, it appears you weren't doing what he asked fast enough. 
Your knees met with the ground roughly, knowing they would be bruised by tomorrow morning. “Now,” grabbing a fistful of your hair, you winced at the pain, but the sound of his pants unbuttoning distracted you. Your mind was too fuzzy to comprehend anything that was happening, but you weren't opposed. The sounds of cars passing by and the city life could be heard from the outside reality, as in your reality, there were sounds of heavy breathing as you attempted to fight back. 
In front of you stood Damon, his cock pressed against your lips, desperate for a way in. your head shook several times, but he wouldn't budge, his hips pushing forward so you had to take him one way or another. “Are you fucking deaf? I said suck it.'' Each time he talked, his free hand met with your cheek, taking blow after blow when you didn't comply. You gave in, taking a bite of the forbidden fruit as his cock was now past your lips… he took in a deep breath. He was now past your teeth, sinking deeper and deeper into your mouth. His hand did not loosen on your hair, he was so rough. 
“Don't. Act. Like. You. Didn't. Want. This.” He Spoke in between thrusts, fucking your throat with all his might. You were unable to fight back, humming was your only way of getting some type of protest out. The vibration caused him to throw his head back, his bottom lip separating from his top as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly. “You dirty fucking whore.” Your lips were swollen, and your gagging only made him treat you with more less respect. Your arms stayed at your side, too weak to even hold yourself up. You felt another blow to your face, combined with his saliva meeting with your cheek. His muscular hands rubbed it into your skin, his thrusts getting sloppier and his groans getting deeper and incoherent. 
“Im fucking close.” His voice went high for a second, sweat forming on his face and dripping down onto you. Your eyes glossed over, his hand holding your chin. You didn't want to admit it but you were in heaven now, your tongue laying flat as it grazed against his shaft. With one big thrust, Damon finally came. His seed flowed into your mouth and down your throat. You didn't have to worry about swallowing, he pulled away with one swift movement. Your eyes were half shut and your jaw was aching like hell. He zipped his pants up, the only sympathetic gesture he gave was making sure you were okay and breathing. 
“Perhaps this won't be our last time seeing each other.” He gave your cheek another slap, walking arrogantly back into the venue.
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stellatekintsugi · 2 years
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Damon Albarn
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trucoopernation · 19 days
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﹒*DAMON’S INTRO*︵★☆
★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡
hi!! my name is damon and im a writer
and im gonna be writing about stuff ig?
idk how to make intros help..
★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡
i will mostly write about twin peaks, specifically
dale cooper and the ship trucoop but i may also
write about other interests (possibly damon albarn)
★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡ ★ 𖦹°‧ ᯓ ⟡
feel free to submit requests, it’s not guaranteed i
will do every request i get but i probably will tbf.
i’ll do most things (smut, comfort, angst, fluff etc.)
but im not comfortable writing about r*pe (maybe
light r*pe comfort if i get a really good request.)
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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.
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 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.
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