#Damon albarn fanfic

[damonjuicyscock]

Hello you guys,

Sorry I forgot to give you news.

I once again had a car accident (I'm a good driver, others are not)

Someone just bumped against me and since then I'm resting my poor neck and as it wasn't funny enough, I got sick ✨️

I hope I'll be able to publish in two weeks that would be great.

At the moment, so I can be forgiven, I propose you a FAQ, you can ask me questions (about me, the future of this tumblr, the future writings), I'll gladly answer them !

Take care of yourselves !

Lots of love

DJC ❤️

(I also take this as an occasion to introduce you my new lovely 10 years old cat : Patrick)

[animulnitrate]

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?

[killersfool]

heyyyy can ppl send me oneshot requests!!! i've been reading through old ones and none have really sparked a good idea so if it's detailed and a bit different or specific it will deffo inspire me more. i'll write anything of inhaler boys/blur(graham or damon or gramon)/derek shepherd or patrick dempsey himself/evan peters(any ahs character of his)/patrick zweig/bridgerton guys/jesse pinkman/paul mescal/pedro pascal/dev patel/the walking dead(rick grimes, negan, daryl)/gilbert blythe/jacob slater/carmy berzatto/richie jerimovich/sydcarmy/leo woodall(dexter mayhew)/mandalorian/ cassian andor/mr darcy/marauders (sirius, wolfstar, james potter, regulus, remus)

sorry for the fat list i love so many shows and people

[lundenloves]

final platforms chap is up

[leaawrites]

Between Us

Damon Albarn x fem!reader

Summary: After a heavy break up, both of them see that what they've done wasn't what they wanted

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

You’d think that over time, people would forget. That they would move on, find new people to obsess over, new couples to admire. Though some stayed focused on one past forever. Lingering over photos from a decade ago, a smile on their faces. Gushing over people’s private life that they didn’t know.

But she knew. She lingered over the pictures and she knew what happened, how it all ended. She knew the story and she knew the ending. Though she never told anyone.

Damon and her dated for seven years, until it ended in 2001. An abrupt ending with little explanation to anyone outside of their house.

“It just didn’t work anymore,” she told the press at movie premiers. All while Damon simply ignored every question that involved even the slightest mention of her name.

The media, being hungry for the meanest kind of funny and not accepting that two adults could make a mutual decision, painted a picture of their own imagination.

‘DAMON ALBARN SHOWING UP ALONE TO THE BRIT AWARDS AFTER LONG-TIME GIRLFRIEND, Y/N L/N, CHEATED ON HIM.’

‘GOOD LUCK TO NEWLY SINGLE, DAMON ALBARN. May he live in peace now.’

“Do you want me to say something?” He asked her over the phone, miles away from her. Not able to console her like he once did. It hurt to hear her broken voice over the phone, knowing that part of him was at fault for it.

“No, don’t worry about it, Damon.” The use of his name on her tongue almost hurting more than the sniffle she let out seconds after it. “I’ll be fine. It’s gonna last a week or so and then it’ll be forgotten anyway. No need to make more drama out of it.”

Though it didn’t just last a week, it lasted twenty years.

Twenty years filled with accusations, reminders, rumors. Haunting both of them day and night. Pictures in magazines when they had nothing else to print. ‘DAMON ALBARN SPOTTED WITH NEW WOMAN, WHAT DOES HIS EX THINK ABOUT IT?’

Spoiler: She thought absolutely nothing about it.

‘He lives his life, I live mine. He can do whatever he wants.’

‘IS SHE JEALOUS FOR LETTING HIM GO SO EASILY? FIND OUT IN A BEHIND-THE-SCENES INTERVIEW WITH HOLLYWOOD DIRECTOR, Y/N L/N.’

It was pathetic, truly. Truly pathetic, that’s what they should call themselves.

Her and Damon still stayed in contact sometimes, whether it was to congratulate the other on their new project or a small conversation about life when they accidentally met in a coffee shop.

Though, the night when she was woken up by knocks against her front door at 3 in the morning, she didn’t expect more than an axe-murderer.

With reluctant steps towards the door, the thought that she had nothing and no one to protect her in the middle of the country became more apparent as her hand lingered over the door knob and there was no other sound besides the knocking and her heavy breathing. The knife in her shaking hand not being stable enough to defend herself.

She could just ignore it, but when she heard the sobs through the wooden door separating her and the unexpected guest, she couldn’t help herself.

Swinging the door open, her eyes widened as Damon stood on the other side, bloodshot eyes, probably drunk, crying.

“What are you doing here, Damon?” she asked, the name still hurting to say. No ‘love’ anymore, he was simply Damon to her now.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, his head lulling back and forth as he leaned against the door frame.

Putting the knife down, she tried pulling him inside her house, though he didn’t budge.

“No, no, no. Leave me alone, I have something to say.” He pushed her away slightly, holding her by her biceps at arms-length.

“Can’t you do that inside? It’s freezing.” She tried pulling him inside again, but he only pulled her closer.

Their chest pressed together, the alcohol apparent on his breath fanning down her face. His heart beating against her ribcage. Her hands stabling her body as the fell on his shoulders. Grabbing the flesh under her fingernails to hold herself upwards as her legs felt like giving up from being so close to him again.

“I know the last years were horrible. I should’ve said something earlier, apologize earlier,” he started talking, slurring some of his words.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known it’d be this bad.”

“Sh,” he shushed her before gathering his words and talking once more. Finger laying over her lips. “And I refuse to believe that all those years ago was our end. It can’t have been. It can’t end like that, not you and me.”

She wanted to interrupt him again, ask what he was saying, what he was referring to. She wanted to stop his movement as his hands slid down her arms and lost her skin at her fingertips, until his whole body moved down. One knee propped up in front of him. His fingers messily scrambling for something in jeans pocket.

Pulling out a little velvet box, tears pooled out her eyes as well, streaming down her face.

“Damon,” she tried once more, aware of his condition. Aware of what he must’ve taken to act this way. He wouldn’t do it if he was sober, right?

“Marry me.”

The words hung in the air, surrounded by tension and sobs. Surrounded by lingering looks and feelings they both still held dearly.

“Please,” his voice was quieter now. Almost begging. “I know we haven’t been as close as before, but I still hold you in my heart the same I did 10 years ago. I can’t let you go. Not if I still don’t know if we’re absolutely over. Until then I’ll fight and dream and ask. So, please, say yes and let us fight and dream and love together.”

“Damon,” she said. “You’re drunk. High, I don’t know. I can’t just say yes if you’re like this.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” His voice was shaking, his head hung low in surrender, tears welling up in his own eyes once more.

“I do,” she whispered. “I want to marry you, always did. But it’s unfair of you to ask me now.”

“Then say yes and let us be happy.”

“Not now, in the morning maybe.”

Damon nodded, standing up, closing the box and putting it back to where it had been hidden for too long. It had to wait a bit longer now, maybe forever.

She stepped to the side, letting him pass her, his eyes lingering on her face, searching parts he forgot. Though there was nothing. It was still the same face he saw in his dreams whenever he closed his eyes.

The rest of the night was spent in silence, she brought him pillows and a blanket to have it comfortable on her couch. And while night went and day rose, both laid down, trying to rest, but neither getting the rapid beating of their heart to slow down.

The sun dried her tears away and soon enough, she found herself in her kitchen making coffee for both of them, Damon asleep in the room next to her.

She could still ponder the options in her head, but what would they do when he woke up? What would she say to him? If he even remembered what happened.

A groan coming from him made her head turn around, reality creeping up their spines at the same time. He didn’t recognize the ceiling, neither the walls around him, but he could identify the smell that hung in the air. It was hers.

A strike of lightning shot through his body, making him sit up, the pain coming shortly after. His head aching. But it didn’t matter when her wide eyes stared back at him.

Slowly, one by one, pictures crept back.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, dragging his hands down his face. “Oh my god. I didn’t ask you, did I? Please say I didn’t.”

“You did,” she confessed, making him grown once more.

Scrambling to his feet, Damon walked over to the kitchen entrance. “Shit. I swear I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what I was thinking. Probably nothing.”

His words made her throat tighten, her heart cried out a sorrowful scream, half laughing about her, half yearning for him to take his words back.

“So, you don’t actually want to marry me? It was all just some drunk mistake?” The words felt like venom on her tongue.

Venom that made his eyes widen in realization.

“I mean, I did - I do. But I never- I never wanted you to know. I just- you probably hate me now. You said, no, right?” He couldn’t remember what she said. After his speech, he forgot everything.

“I never said no,” she confessed.

“You didn’t?” It surprised him. Why didn’t she say no?

Shaking her head softly, she walked closer to him. Leaning on the wall next to him. “I told you, that I wouldn’t answer you until you were sober.”

His eyes slipped down to her lips, sucked between her teeth anxiously.

“Marry me.”

He said it once more, the words feeling heavier now. Reality feeling heavier now.

But her words were light.

“Yes.”

And when her lips fell on his, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, the world felt light.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” she said as they laid under her covers, hidden from the rest of the world. “Let us stay like this forever.”

“Like what?”

“Secretly happy, enjoying ourselves and letting no one else near what we have. I want you, Damon. I want to love you unconditionally. I don’t want to end like we did last time.”

“We won’t let it happen, I promise. I won’t let it happen.”

“So, we keep it between us?”

“It’s just you and me. Forever.”

And they said yes, forever. Keeping it quiet, keeping their life away from anyone who was too interested in it.

Another ten years passed, and when the same day came around from which on they were bound together by a promise, they made it official.

A post, a simple one.

‘New song at midnight. A special one.’

‘Between Us’ was nothing anyone expected. A simple piano, words of love and a video of memories. Just them two. Like it had always been.

A message at the end of the video.

‘I can’t believe I get to live my life with you. The most perfect person I’ve ever met. The love of my life. Twenty years have passed, with a break in between that I’ve never regretted more than when I saw you again, and I still love you like I did the first day I saw you. Until death do us apart and every life time after.’

Written by Damon Albarn and Y/n L/n.

Directed by Y/n L/n.

[saturnz-kelz]

𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖔𝖈 𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖘

𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚣

𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝

[0-p01ssum]

(Limbo) Beetlejuice

I can totally imagine this BJ with Damon Albarn's 2-D voice, with Italian accent instead of British (or maybe not u know what let's keep the Bri'ish one)

[kikintulips]

YOUR MIND IS NOT YOUR FRIEND by tescodisc0 on Wattpad

Even though the guy annoyed me, I would replay this small talk over and over, to think if I said any more embarrassing things. I was someone who would do that at every conversation, but when you talk to someone famous, it's just something else. Because it's just my luck that in the whole of Greater London where I could have lived, I get to live next door to Damon Albarn.

[babymockers]

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

[hughiewasnthere]

Graham Coxon x Fem reader

NSFW 18+!!!!

Title : First time eating out

Description : Graham admits he’s actually a virgin so you offer to let him eat you out.

Graham x female reading, oral (f receiving)

This was rushed my apologies

Story begins after photo

How did you get here? Who knows, who cares.

Right now what you do know is your panties are cast aside by grahams calloused fingers. His other fingers spreading your pussy lips apart as he stared in awe at the wetness glistening at him.

He’d told you that night he’s secretly a virgin and all the sex stories he’s told to the guys were complete sham. And obviously the good friend you are blurted out on accident you’d let him eat you out.

His brown eyes stare at your heat before he looked up at you. You had told him where to put his fingers and where to spread. Yet again the virgin and shy man he was anyways looked back at you.

Your slender hands came back down to your pussy as two fingers rubbed your clit as you moan softly

“There Graham…. It’s there” you practically whined out.

He hesitated before moving. Small kitten licks against your slit before moving up to your clit. He does it until he hears your moans and that’s when he buried his face into you and began to lick and suck like a man deprived of a goof meal.

His glasses were then wonky on his face but that didn’t bother him as he continued to eat you out.

Your hand in his hair as you whined and bucked into his face. Your head lolled to the side as you caught a glimpse of his hips. He was laid slightly where his lap was in full view. His hips were slowly rolling the air as he ate you out.

His hand then came up around you with his palm and fingers holding your lower stomach. He was definitely enjoying eating you out. He let out a soft whine.

His free hand pushed his jeans down freeing enough space from his cock and balls to be out.

I stopped his actions on you as he moved positions. He lays flat on his front before beginning his attack on your pussy again. You moan as you watch his hips rut into the bed.

It was all going well until this was the last thing you were expecting to do to him. You had squirted all over his face. He stopped not expecting it before smiling and lapping it all up off you with his tongue.

He sat up on his knees with a smile as he wiped his face “thanks…. Thanks for letting me…. Not… not many people would” he mumbled now nervous again like usual.

You sat up panting before grinning at him and looking down at his still hard erection

“Of course….. now let me take care of you” you chuckle. Your words brought an exited smile on his face as he sat back….

[ciaraloveswriting]

- 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 😭)

••••

[damonjuicyscock]

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❤️

[animulnitrate]

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.

[petalprincessxoxo]

if anyone has any fanfic suggestions feel free to message me or leave the suggestions in the comments for this post <3

[mids-stupid-shit]

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

[leaawrites]

She's the one I'm running with

Damon Albarn x fem!reader

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

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

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

“Do you ever wanna run away?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“OK.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” she answered, not moving.

“Hope you’re hungry.”

“If it tastes good,” she teased.

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

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

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

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

“About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me more.”

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

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

It was just theirs.

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