#damon albarn prompt

[ay0nha]

request? could you write something with Damon having major sexual tension with a backing member of gorillaz (like a violinist or something) it’s vagueeee but still

SUMMARY: A warm smell surrounded you that’s familiarity made something bloom in your chest. It wasn’t a far cry to admit Damon was attractive. Any star was. Something scratched at your chest, toyed with you. It taunted you to bring the fabric close and be consumed by it. But Damon’s eyes were fixated on your every move; the wrong one would be catastrophic. 

PAIRING: Damon Albarn x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: I tried to combine a handful of requests, so if it's a little choppy...don't worry about it....fluff, cursing, lack of coherent plot because I a little bit gave up half way through, nothing crazy, etc.

A/N: Hello! I love this concept so much. It was meant to be an enemies to lovers, but my little fluff-filled heart couldn't do it. Please, please enjoy! (If you can't tell, I live for this gif lol)

“Loop it.”

The harmonies felt better. But after going through every note in your range, Damon still refused to settle. Sleep clung to your voice and became prominent when you tried to push through.

“Let’s do it again…” Damon pressed the signaling button for his voice to echo. You could see through the glass fatigue ruled him and fueled his obsession. “Try the C major–” He hesitated to commit to the note, but not when he had called your hotel room in the middle of the night. “—No. Try doing–

“I’m taking a break.”

The headphones disconnected before Damon could reprimand you. If you had to be inconvenienced, so would he. Silence followed you as you moved through his home. Damon’s eyes tracked your familiarity in his home. There was something, a feeling he couldn’t decipher about the authority you found in it.

You were no longer a guest, but you weren’t a friend. Despite knowing each other for years, you never quite graduated from the acquaintance level. Yet, there you were, sipping from the mug Damon had made himself as if you were his other half.

Your position normalized it. The industry, which you barely claimed space in, normalized things like this. There was plenty of musical history to account for late-night sessions or jams, but this felt intentional. Different.

“Where are the others?” You teased him knowingly. You were well aware of the rumored soft spot he had for you, but it was hard to believe what he expected of you.

“Still sleeping.” Damon was restless, focusing on the wasted time on hot water and honey. “They’ll catch up.” He attempted to reason with your glare. “We need to get back.”

You had gotten further than usual, half a mug’s worth, before he complained. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the tea to keep you up, but the warmth helped. So did the fact that there was a fresh stock of the brand you gravitated towards. He was expecting you.

“Just a minute longer.” You hummed, neck stretching to the left and right until it popped. “Sure you don’t want any?” Damon declined, settling with a yawn. “You’ll have to sleep at some point.”

“I will…” He sniffed with agitation. You annoyed him and crawled under his skin just to settle there. “...once we’re done.”

“We are done.” A breath of amused laughter flitted through your nose. “You’ll have to drag me back in there.” Damon looked at you as if actually entertaining the thought. Throwing him a coy gaze, you added, “I’d love to see you try.”

“I thought about it.” He cracked a smile, finally. Damon was uncharacteristically quiet during the session, suppressing his usual cheekiness.

Your expression softened, matching his, “I know.”

“Maybe I’ll scrap the song.” He finally caved, his anxieties surfacing. “B-sides or something.” His movements became his own, demeanor present again, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a mess.” You cleared your mug, the remaining tea cold and forgotten. “That what you want to hear?” You hummed for an answer. “Or that it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard?”

“Depends.” His smile remained present. “Does my ego need inflating?”

“God, no.”

Your breath of laughter was divine. Damon would listen to it on a loop if he could. These moments made it worthwhile. They were fleeting but brought a much-needed lightness to the night. Made the purpose of your presence just a little sweeter.

—

You’d come in with little layers, to begin with. Stumbling out of bed meant whatever was on your back would have to suffice for the day ahead. Yet, that hadn’t accounted for the switch of the air conditioning to accommodate the countless pieces of equipment used.

At night, things were different. You related to the solitude, the quietness making it easier to think. Yet, the buzz of a busy studio gave a unique rush to every meeting that helped immerse you in a world of collaboration.

“He kept you all night?” Jamie’s tone was teasing with the rhetorical question. It was obvious in how you looked—casually put together and gaze set on the goal of finishing—that you’d seen the sunrise.

You offered a simple smile, making it seem like you hadn’t minded. In reality, you hadn’t truly minded, but part of you resisted the game of cat and mouse.

“You’re allowed to say no.” Another breath of laughter. Jamie had a knack for using his humor for others' comfort, which you appreciated. Especially if it came to poking fun at Damon. “He does know what that means.”

“Keeps me occupied.” The excuse was rehearsed but not inaccurate, as you shrugged. “The extra cash doesn’t hurt.”

“God knows he’s got plenty to spare.”

Jamie looked at Damon. He was engrossed with his lyrics, scratching out words for others and shuffling the cue cards in different orders until they made sense for the singers who would soon spill in. A cigarette hung from his lips, the ash snowing down onto his work.

Damon mumbled against the butt to himself, taking a drag just to push it out through his nose. Something was appealing to the vice. Especially as you thought to reach out with your two fingers to capture your lips around the cigarette just to feel the heat of his lips.

“C’mere for a minute.”

There was a lag before you realized Damon had called out to you. There wasn’t a need for you yet; he would have to make something up soon to explain why you had to detach yourself from Jamie.

“The melodies sound good.” You crouched beside him, the compliment surprising not only him but yourself. “I heard you earlier…” You attempted to backtrack before the heat reached the tips of your ears. “...It’s shaping up nicely.”

“The lyrics are..." His sentence trailed off, morphing as he blew a raspberry. He couldn't quite shake the frustration of his unfinished song.

Goosebumps littered your skin as you reached across him for the marker in his hand. He knew you were cold since he avoided looking at how the swell of your breast peaked, looking for heat.

“Grammar’s a bit off.” You mumbled, adjusting the order of a few things. It was like a puzzle; the song's lyrics could be bent however you wanted but could only settle comfortably with a proper flow. “...Let's see how that sounds.”

You hummed the melody that had become your earworm. Damon matched it with the lyrics. The flow had changed with the slight adjustment as if mocking how it had taken days for him even to approach it.

“Yeah, that’s good…” Damon whispered to himself, to you. There was no reason to be surprised at your skill, but there was something that tickled him. “Good, let’s get the others.” He could feel the start of his rambling in his chest. “I mean, when everyone gets here…you can show them.”

“Somethings off with you…” Your eyebrows cinched together with premature amusement. “You don’t like it?”

Damon was hard-headed, never soft-spoken about his work and how he envisioned it. But he struggled to form his words the way he wanted with you.

“He’s upset that he didn’t come up with it himself. ” Jamie joined right as Damon went to thank you. “Now leave the girl alone; I don’t know how she’s not sick of you yet.”

—

As others filtered in, producing and recording, the smoke began to fill the room. Things began to come easy, things falling into place with more than a pair of eyes looking for a solution. Damon thrived in the environment. He personified the more, the merrier.

He would detach himself from one group just to mingle with those working in the opposite direction. He multitasked even when everyone decided to relax collectively, yourself included.

“All I’m saying is that the audience in Rio has this unmatched energy.”

They talked about the upcoming tour, regaling tales of part performances that couldn’t be matched. It had just been confirmed and announced to the anticipatory fans in capital cities globally.

“Toyko, hands down.” Another added. “ Plus, the food is well worth the travel.”

You traveled for work but only hopped from one studio to the next. Never had you performed in front of crowds as the rest had. They shared stories of the things thrown at them during peak performances and tales of drunken nights that were fuzzily being put together.

“Albarn, do you remember?” They called for him across the room. He had waited for the single invitation to be closer to you with the backing of an excuse. “In Montreal, how’d we get back to the hotel?”

Damon didn’t touch you, not yet, at least. The arm around the cushion of the sofa settled comfortably as he sat. His head lulled back and forth, giving attention to those he conversed with. But something about how he gravitated to your space made it seem like his undivided attention was yours.

You found it difficult to listen to shared stories you knew little about. But you liked the rumble you felt against your side when Damon fluttered with laughter. Each time, he would catch the goosebumps that spread across your arms. He figured you were cold, but you were worried that you were revealing yourself, and he only reveled in it. So you used the very excuse of being affected by the temperature to cover yourself.

You could have gone without asking, but your hand landed on his knee before you realized. “You have a jumper or something?”

His eyes lingered on your hand, which caught his attention. It was a smart move on your part, better than trying to call his name, knowing it would go out in one ear and out the other. Others continued around you, making nothing of the touch, but you rarely initiated something.

“On the chair.” Damon jutted his chin across the room where his sweatshirt had been scrapped.

Eyes were on you, watching your sock-clad feet pad carefully over the various wires that littered the floor. The sweatshirt was intentionally large on Damon, so it swam on you as you pulled it over your head.

A warm smell surrounded you that’s familiarity made something bloom in your chest. It wasn’t a far cry to admit Damon was attractive. Any star was. Something scratched at your chest, toyed with you. It taunted you to bring the fabric close and be consumed by it. But Damon’s eyes were fixated on your every move; the wrong one would be catastrophic.

Someone called your name, and your original spot was filled beside Damon. There was a yearning to return to that, probably the shared exhaustion of the day forefronting your thoughts.

—

Your eyes couldn’t help but drift throughout the session. It was becoming a hard habit to break. But for once, you were thankful, able to catch the tail end of Jamie and Damon’s tiff. They had their lovers quarrels, but they never remained quiet. They were never shy to be dramatic for everyone to hear and witness.

The studio glass was your barrier, but you had an inkling it was about you. Jamie was always an advocate for you, for everyone. He, although not always, could talk sense into his counterpart. You just wished he waited to do it when you weren’t there or when you could eavesdrop.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m—

“Nah, I’m tired of your excuses.” Jamie tutted, arms crossing with conviction. “You have a beautiful girl over in the middle of the night, and you make her work.” He shook his head as if it was the most despicable thing. “The only thing she should be doing is moaning–

“Fuck off.” Damon frowned at the crudeness. He’d mused the thought but never allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy. “It’s not like that, believe me.

“You’re letting me down.” Jamie continued, ready for the fight. “What happened to you?” He always tapped right on Damon’s pressure points. “You’ve gone soft, can’t even ask out a girl without falling apart.”

“Thanks, mate.” Damon threw a glare, still looking ahead. He caught your eye unintentionally. But his eyes flickered back to Jamie before the slim chance of being ashamed. “Go find something to do, I can’t babysit today.”

“You’re drawing it out,” Jamie said. “She’ll be gone when you finally fucking do something—

“I’ve invited her out tonight.”

The lie flew out fast. Damon had only heard through the whispers of others that you would think about going. Now, he gambled.

Jamie’s eyebrows twitched up, “With us?”

“Who else?”

A smirk pulled at the thought. Years passed, and your tendency to avoid social events began to precede you. “You bribed her to say yes, didn’t you?”

—-

“Refill?”

Damon watched your drink dwindle. Your ordered whatever everyone else was having, making it easy to blend in. It was his excuse to talk to you, which he found otherwise difficult.

The music was loud, thumping directly to drown out his voice. Yours carried beautifully as you laughed with the company. It felt like a strike every time Damon heard it. A reminder of the incompetence Jamie had reminded him of earlier.

“Hmm?”

The music covered Damon’s words. You leaned close to his neck; ear perked to hear him. He had caught you on the dance floor, where you swayed to the beat. On the off-beat, your shoulder brushed against his, a deliberate move on your part.

“Your drink…” He pointed to it this time. The strobing lights helped cover his stumble. “You want another?”

Damon looked good. Maybe it was the buzz around you allowing you to fall behind the veil of alcohol. It helped that people around you bumped the two of you closer. If he hadn’t been looking at you so intently for an answer, you’d be in his arms within a matter of minutes.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

The atmosphere of the club required commitment. But the bar offered a reprieve. You were lucky to have found a free stool that wobbled under your weight while Damon flagged down the bartender. You were sure some recognized him, but as he matured, the more privacy he maintained.

“Thought you would be a no-show.” The gin and tonic had a heavy pour, reflecting the overwhelmed workers and carelessness of the night. You sipped on its sweetness, patient for Damon’s response.

“So did I.” Ironically enough, you had approached Damon. You extended the invitation, lying through your teeth that the others had sent you to ask him. Relief flooded him. A shrug simplified Damon’s feelings. “Changed my mind.”

“Why?” You teased, looking at him with nothing but conviction. “You found out I was coming?”

“Something like that.” His lips twitched at the sentiment, arms encasing you as more bumped him toward you, “Jamie’s quite persistent.”

Your drinks dwindled, and more were ordered. The bubble you’d created was filled with wit, a banter that came naturally and held heavy sentiments. You had already memorized the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, how his laughter started deep within his chest just to echo its way to you. But it never got old. Typically, you’d scold yourself for admiring him that way but indulged regardless. Damon was never subtle with how his gaze lingered, but you doubted subtly was his priority.

Especially as he broke eye contact with you just to wet his own lips, mirroring your gesture. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “You’ve got my attention.”

It seemed the best time to ask you when he had you in his grasp. There wouldn’t be a more appropriate time in his eyes. This was what he wanted most but never knew how to express. He wanted you near him, like this.

“Come on tour with me.”

[stxrshxpxd]

“i can hardly breathe around you”

paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: reader finds herself in an inappropriate dream about her oldest and best friend, and when she moans his name he responds.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking and Damon’s hands were keeping me in my dream, wrapping tightly around my waist as his lips attached to my neck. I squirmed under him, panting and moaning in desperation for more, and when his fingers squeezed my flesh harder I let out a whimper of his name. For a few seconds it all felt right. He continued kissing down my neck, until he suddenly replied and everything ripped from me in an instant. His hands, his lips, his breath on my skin, all gone.

“Y/N?” my best friend of fifteen years asked in a soft voice and stared me down from next to me on my bed. He grimaced with confusion and concern. Reality flooded back to me in a heartbeat and I remembered we had been watching TV on my bed, we had both gradually lost interest, he had muted it and picked up his book, and I had slipped into a nap. Then I had moaned his name and clearly not just in my dreams.

“Yes?” I breathed, deciding to play dumb.

“Care to share your dream?” Damon asked, eyes fixed on me and book splayed open against his chest. Some amusement had joined the confusion in his face. My pulse quickened.

I quite literally couldn’t find in my brain what to say to him and all I could do was watch the emotions evolve in his expressions.

I had been beating myself up for a while because something had happened about a month ago and I had completely lost my mind, I thought. Seeing my best friend in a non-platonic light was simply unthinkable. But, gosh, that soft stare of his and that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth!

“Will you close your eyes?” he asked after too long a silence on my end.

I stared at him instead, for a long time, barely breathing. He asked again and I recognised something stirring wildly in his gaze. I couldn’t remember anything ever having been this serious between us before. It frightened me and I resorted to doing what he asked of me.

With my breath shallow and shaky and eyes softly closed, at last I felt Damon’s lips gently press against mine. My brain stopped working for a minute but then the only thing I could think to do was to reach my hand out, finding his chest was rid of the book and it was turning towards me. Closer, closer, closer. Until my hand was locked between our beating chests and he was determinedly kissing down my jaw and neck.

I wanted his lips everywhere on me and I blushed wildly at the thought. I had been doing a fine job at suppressing all these emotions for the last month, but he was making it really hard for me now.

“Damon,” I started when his lips jumped to my lower stomach and his fingers began to hook into my waistband. He glanced up from under his golden fringe and my stomach fluttered at the eye contact. My toes were twitching wildly with nerves and excitement. Really I didn’t want him to stop for even a second, but it was all so weird.

He simply smiled calmly at me and kissed my skin again while my sweatpants were pulled down my legs. That smile of his had calmed me so many times before and for the next moment I felt at ease. I even closed my eyes and let a half shaky but deep breath out, and I allowed his warm palms to spread my thighs apart.

“My god, you’re wet,” he whispered, astounded. “Dream-me is that good, huh?”

I laughed but my cheeks burned with embarrassment, impulsively trying to close my legs again and reaching to push his shoulders away. But he stayed and firmly held my legs apart.

“Hey, it’s me,” Damon reminded me in a smooth voice.

“Exactly!” I laughed nervously, finding it nearly impossible to get past the absurdity of having my best friend’s breath fan over my damp underwear while his hands clasped around the inside of my thighs. God, his hands though!

“Exactly,” he echoed in a quiet voice and raised his brows. I knew he was referring to my moaning his very name in my sleep just minutes ago, and I sighed.

Within seconds his lips were back on me again but this time they kissed me through my pants and I thought my heart jumped out of my chest for a moment. He did it again. And again. And he added more pressure and then his tongue. I screwed my eyes shut and at last couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure. For the next few minutes I could hardly recall the embarrassment, as he peeled my underwear to the side and once again buried his face in me.

“Do you wanna say my name again?” Damon tried his luck as I had begun breathing heavily and letting little moans out. His voice vibrated through my abdomen and I felt a hint of my high teasing me momentarily.

“Damon,” I whispered cautiously and felt his teeth against my hot skin as he grinned.

“Mhm,” he murmured into me again and continued lapping up my wetness with his skilled tongue, pushing me towards my edge.

“I’m gonna…” I whined but felt the embarrassment come over me again. “Fuck.. Dames!”

Calling him by his sweet nickname made me cringe for a second, but he continued smirking through his kissing and licking and sucking and I couldn’t stop my thighs from clasping around his head. The orgasm pierced through my body, making my legs tremble and my voice settle in a defeated whimper.

Quickly reality caught up with me again once I made it out of the haze and I was partly mortified as my oldest and best friend kissed up my body again and his lips reconnected with mine.

We spent an eternity kissing between shaky breaths and in my head I yelled at my cheeks until they eventually cooled a tad.

“Can we really do this?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I don’t know if you were here just now but we just did,” he teased and we both laughed, my eyes still closed and our mouths constantly balancing between kissing and breathing.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

A minute passed of slightly more kissing than breathing and then it evened out again.

“Did you know lately I can hardly breathe around you?” I whispered and barely felt his lips curl into a smirk. I peaked at it slightly but made sure not to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he mumbled with his smirk widening and a chuckle pouring out of him and into me. I smiled and laughed gently too.

Damon slid off of me but just about everything of his stayed touching me and his head laid just next to mine, noses grazing. There was only breathing for the better half of a minute. At last I felt our familiar comfortable silence coming back to us. I stared at his face and studied his eyes, brows, cheeks and nose and lips. Then my gaze drifted to the ledge where the wall met the ceiling and I let my mind wander to more trivial territory for a breather.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m worried what my hair will look like tomorrow if I wear it in a bun to bed,” I answered honestly and instantly I felt the hot breath of his laughter hit my face. We chuckled together and he smiled back at me with twinkling eyes.

“See, this is us!” he insisted. “We still talk about silly things and laugh. Only we have sex too.”

My cheeks flushed red again but I couldn’t stop smiling. I reached my hand out to poke my fingertips around in the side of his hair and let another few moments pass as I pondered.

“Could we also… hold hands?” I suggested, stomach fluttering anxiously again. “And kiss?”

Damon gave me a slight nod.

“And not kiss other people?”

At that his smile grew and he was quick to respond.

“I can’t remember what it’s like kissing anyone else.”

A laugh bubbled inside me and my hand caught his cheek and pressed our lips together again.

“Good job. That was the right answer,” I mumbled into our kiss.

[darlingian]

@callivich picked "blur" as the prompt for this week's @galladrabbles!

“...I've never been into Blur but Damon Albarn is cool. I listen to a lot of Gorillaz…”

He could hear Mickey chatting hesitantly with someone as Ian made his way back to the bar. The new person was turned almost completely towards Mickey on the stool. All Ian could see were brown curls and the back of a t-shirt with Blur tour dates.

“Trevor?” Ian sputtered once he walked closer.

“Ian?” Trevor said nervously, “So this must be…”

Mickey beamed a megawatt smile and held out a hand to Ian's ex. “I’m Mickey. The guy he left your ass for.”

[legallybrunettedotcom]

it's so funny when a musician/band cites someone before them as their influence, inspiration etc and the influencer is like your music is shit and you are a sorry excuse for a human being thus prompting the influencee to retaliate and thus starting extremely amusing drama. you go to their wikipedia page and there is an entire feuds section, just name after name of other artists and bands they shit talked. it's a shame that doesn't really happen anymore. well i suppose damon albarn gets an A for trying.

[coy-cocktails]

Muse Info

Pinboards:

Jene Alden🕰

Mitchell ‘Mish’ Folwer💥

Ambrose ‘Bo’ Cantone🕯

This is a blog for the side characters and ‘special guests’ - wanna see the main characters? Go to @boyish-drinks

Face Claims

Jene - Rene Auberjonois

Mish - (Young) Damon Albarn

Bo - (Young) Robert Sean Leonard

Tag List (under renovation)

Aesthetic

( uncle jene cleans up nicely )

( dust fire )

( the thespians son )

RP/ASKS

( whatever’s on tap ) undefined asks

( I have a special request… ) asks from prompt list or tagged muse things

( museception ) muse - muse interaction

( that’s… interesting… ) random facts/info posts

CHAR TAGS

( jene alden )

( mish )

( bo lck )

Extra

( ask list )

( ask prompt )

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Ten random songs from my playlist and my favourite of them today as I have not yet finished the next writing instalment/prompt:

1. Deeper and Deeper - Madonna

2. Into the Groove (You Can Dance) - Madonna

3. Nothing to Remember - Neko Case

4. Love Don’t Live Here Anymore - Madonna

5. Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac

6. Amazed - Lonestar

7. Aurora - Daisy Jones & The Six

8. Apple Carts - Damon Albarn

9. Rhythm of the Night - DeBarge

10. Don’t Wanna Sleep - Mäneskin

My favourite today:

- Rhythm of the Night by DeBarge - Enjoy! ❤️

[whatsonmedia]

Coachella Weekend Highlights: Taylor Swift Sighting and More!

The inaugural weekend of the legendary Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival in Indio, California, has wrapped up, yet discussions on social media continue to revolve around the festival’s memorable moments. From the highly anticipated reunion of No Doubt to sightings of Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce, the star-studded event was brimming with highlights that captured the public’s attention. Here’s a recap of what you might have overlooked.

No Doubt Reunites with Unexpected Guest

It’s been nearly a decade since Gwen Stefani and the members of No Doubt shared a stage, but the band came together once again in the desert for a nostalgic and electrifying performance. “I didn’t believe this moment would come,” Stefani confessed to the audience, as captured in footage shared on social media. “Did you?” Amidst their rendition of “Bathwater,” singer Olivia Rodrigo made a surprise appearance, delighting the crowd as she joined the band onstage.

Blur’s Coachella Performance Falls Short

(CREDIT: P Ghana/Coachella)

Damon Albarn, renowned for his work with Gorillaz, took the Coachella stage with his band Blur, but reports and social media clips suggest that the reception was tepid at best. Despite Albarn’s efforts to engage the crowd and encourage sing-alongs during certain songs, the response from the audience was largely silence.

Swift and Kelce Dance in the Desert

(Gilbert Flores/WWD via Getty Images)

Usually, Taylor Swift graces the world’s largest stages with her performances, while her boyfriend, Kelce, is out on the field playing for the Kansas City Chiefs. However, at Coachella, the couple broke away from their usual routines and were spotted in the audience, singing along and dancing as they enjoyed the set by Bleachers, the band of Swift’s frequent collaborator Jack Antonoff. Fans captured moments of their weekend together and shared them widely on social media.

Grimes Apologizes for Disastrous Set

Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for Coachella

Grimes encountered notable technical difficulties during her performance at Coachella. While the initial segment of her set unfolded smoothly, the latter half was plagued by issues, prompting Grimes to express her frustration by screaming into the microphone. Following the performance, she took to social media to issue an apology via X, assuring fans that her set for the second weekend will be “flawless.”

Coach-EARLE-lla

Coachella wouldn’t be complete without a plethora of influencers. Soda brand Poppi embraced this culture by teaming up with TikTok sensation Alix Earle, known as the “It Girl.”

Read More about Coachella: Coachella 2024: Headliners and Schedule – Your Ultimate Guide

Discover Your Musical Paradise: Coachella 2024

[qudachuk]

Jarvis Cocker, Steve Lamacq, Jo Whiley and Damon Albarn share their opinions on the end of an era.

[kraftwerk113]

Life´s too short for weird music - Tagesempfehlung 03.02.2023

Gorillaz / Silent running (feat. Adeleye Omotayo)

Ganze fünf Stücke habe Gorillaz zwischenzeitlich aus ihrem neuen auf 24.02.2023 angekündigten Album Cracker Island freigegeben. Ähnlich wie bei Orbital verheißen die freigegebenen Songs ein gutes Album von Damon Albarns virtuellem Popensemble. Nun also Silent running (feat. Adeleye Omoyato). Und hier sollten Sie vorsichtig sein und nicht in die selbe Falle tappen wie ich: Denn das Antesten der ersten Takte von Silent running - im Rahmen einer der vielen Empfehlungs-Playlisten die Streamingportale so anbieten - führte bei mir zu skip (and forget). Zum Glück wurde ich noch am selben Tag in einem ganz anderen Kontext erneut mit Silent running konfrontiert ohne eine Möglichkeit zu haben, zu skippen und prompt konnte ich die versteckte Schönheit des Songs entdecken, die sich erst offenbart, wenn Sie den Song in ganzer Länge gehört haben. Was für eine gehetzte, kurzlebige Welt sind wir doch geworden....

[mirrorforevers]

the wrong side of the bed • damon albarn/reader

smut with feelings, i guess. sorry if is this is too long – this prompt excited me too much. i hope you guys like daft punk - though this is not a songfic, but you’ll get why - and i promise i’ll write something not involving sadness and alcohol someday. this is unbeta’ed, and english is not my first language, so have mercy

thank you so much for the music teacher prompt, anon! hope you enjoy it x also, just in case you haven’t read my graham/reader fic yet, here it is too.

tw: unprotected drunk sex

word count: 4.477

Music has been a very important escape mechanism for you recently. Your job has been hellish, and getting your degree has also been a chore - in the midst of so many deadlines and professional disappointments what has been a light for you is Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your dad.

You detail these little “buts” as a mantra whenever the subject is him, whether in internal monologues or when you talk about him with your close friends. You never really believed in relationships between two people of very different ages, and you felt like you needed to remember those details whenever you could to keep that completely carefree crush from becoming something you couldn't control.

You started taking classes with him every Saturday after you were cast on your city’s production of a musical. You knew it was a very small step for a career in the industry, but it was very significant for you. You were exhausted from any activity that involved learning given how tired you were from college, but learning music with Damon was definitely something that you didn't even place in the same mental category. It was with him that you vented about how your week was, how you missed your parents who lived absurdly far away from you, it was with him that you shared the small victories of the day-to-day that were too insignificant even to share with your longtime friends. Which is funny, since this symbolic relationship was built in a matter of 2 months. Damon, in the beginning, was very reserved and “gray”, and it was amazing how in a matter of such a short time he shown himself to be someone so energetic, observant and empathetic; although a little bit of a control freak sometimes. When the wild waves of life seemed to take you everywhere at the same time and left you lost, despite so little time in your life, Damon became a constant.

And it worries you.

What are you going to do when the money to pay for his classes runs out? Certainly, although significant, what you had seemed to be was, above all, a friendship of convenience. You were very different people, with very different aspirations, and especially at very different points in life. As much as you liked each other *as friends* and considered yourselves people you wanted close by, Damon had a well-lived life to sustain. He would not have time much less willpower to listen to your complaints and insecurities in a context that did not involve an exchange relationship. At least, that's what you thought.

Saturday was also one of the two days you could wake up late, so in addition to having a rare time for your leisure, you were able to rest at least a little more than normal. That particular morning, you noticed that there were two missed calls from Maggie on your cell phone. Maggie was one of the producers of the musical. She used to bring you very decisive and very good news. If she called you, you did whatever it took to answer her right away. An unbelievable wave of anxiety takes over you. “Hello, Mags, you called?” You say, excited, but very nervous. Dealing with people who have your dreams constantly in their hands is somewhat stressful. You bite your nails.

“Hey, Y/N, yes. Um. You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking. What happened?” You notice that Maggie's tone is different. The funny thing is that everyone is always so apathetic in the artistic world, and Maggie was the only person you knew so far that showed any kind emotion.

“So… you were dropped.”

Ah.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“You… were dropped. We made some changes here and there and you won’t be on our show anymore. If anything changes again, we’ll call. I promise.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Good luck, kid.”

Um.

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you feel like you've been punched. Maybe you've been wrong all along.

My God. My God. My God.

You feel like your entire world has collapsed around you. There aren't even reasons for you to keep going to class. All that effort and money spent... are now in the trash.

Artists spend a lot of time investing in themselves. You always have to become better. Faster. Learn techniques. Reinvent yourself. Stay beautiful. And you don't believe that in your first real experience in this world... that happened. Most likely a friend of the director took your place.

My God.

You swallow the tears, after all, you told everyone you knew that you knew how this world worked and you wouldn't be shaken if something like this happened. No one is watching you right now - but you still feel that you would disappoint them if you cried.

But you couldn’t smile anymore. Nothing could take away your expression of shock and uncertainty.

Not even funny posts on Reddit. Not even funny memes sent by your friends in the morning.

Nor the message from Damon confirming the class of the day.

I won't be able to go today ☹, you type, and you erase it.

Hey, I got dropped from the musical. you type, and you erase it.

How are you doing? Definitely not.

I’ll be there! 😅 You hit send.

Hope we finally figure out that bloody solo, he replies.

You do not answer.

You change your clothes, without your motivational playlist playing in the background this time. The beginning of a great plan going on in your life was no longer there. You didn't even pick up your headphones and the subway ride was completely silent, except for the ambient sound.

You arrive at school, and Damon welcomes you with the usual tight hug, and wide smile. You give a yellow smile in response, and he immediately realizes that something is out of place. “Is everything okay?” His expression quickly changes to one of concern. Your stomach drops even lower. Maybe it hit the ground by now.

“I…”

You don't want it to end. Your dream ended, but not this, too. This cannot end. “Can we try another song today? One not from the musical?” You ask, exasperated.

“Uh… I mean-”

“Please?”

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" He laughs nervously. “But... the musical’s why you’re here. I’m confused--”

“I know, but pretty please?” You insist, cringing by now to keep from crying.

“Um. Sure – but did something happen? Tell me. I’m-I’m here to help.”

“I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Please.” You feel your voice weaken more and more. You don’t wanna cry, though your eyes are already burning. “Please, Damon.”

“Right. Okay.” He says, raising his hands in defeat. He starts collecting his material.

“What are you doing?”

“No class today. Something clearly happened and we need to talk it out.”

“I-I got sacked. But there’s no need to…”

“I got it. C’mon. I’m not a monster, I won’t charge you for talking it out. All we’ve worked for… fucking cunts.” There’s the visceral side of him. “You gotta tell me how it happened.”

“Okay.”

He only leaves your two chairs in place.

After you two sit, he starts. “This happens quite a lot in this world. And every student reacts the same.” Though this sounds a little too insensitive, you imagine it’s the truth, and his tone does the job of conveying his compassion. “Did they call you? Or did you find out through somewhere else, like Patti LuPone?”

“Huh. At least they called me. They just straight up told me I’m no longer in the cast.” You say, totally not comforted by that. But it would be even worse if you found out by other means. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Don’t let your spirit be broken by that – you’re really talented, and I don’t like paying compliments. You know that.”

“Talent is not enough sometimes. That’s also something you’ve said to me before.”

He goes silent, and you start apologizing in the same instant.

“No, no, you didn’t hurt my feelings.” He interrupts you. “That’s true. But you’re really young, I shouldn’t have said that to you. Shit like that happens all the time. We learn a lot from it and you have your entire life ahead of you. That was… limited of me.”

“I know I’m almost getting my degree, and there’s other things for me to do… but fuck. I-- I really wanted that. You know how much.”

“I do. I also know exactly how you’re feeling now. We’re always so excited when this kind of thing happens. We plan our entire lives based on that one fragile and uncertain plan, and then boom, it’s gone. We always count on the fact that we’ll eventually have to decide between our career and something else when the choice comes, but what do we do when it doesn’t come? I know how that feels. Also--”

He grabs his guitar. You roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you have a song for that.”

“I don’t.” he answers. “But I do have a story to tell you.”

For the next two hours, he tells you all about a very ambitious audiovisual plan that he tried to engage in his early 30s. Among countless questions and answers, Damon Albarn showed you through his history how very determined he really was. He goes into the most minute details about the ideas he had for a film and several concept albums for a virtual band that, in your opinion, sounds like something very innovative and, at the same time, incredibly palatable to the mainstream. You thought that the band he was part of when he was even younger was already very wronged because, from what you heard from the demos, they were really incredible, but the fact that such a project didn't go ahead ... just proved to you more and more that talent sometimes really wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn't admire that man more.

“So, believe me when I say I know how that feels.” Goddamn. He looks at his clock, and almost jumps at how the time flied. “Bloody hell, I have another student in like, 5 minutes.”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is a tale very few people know about. I’m glad I shared it with you.”

“…That had potential. Don’t give up on it.”

“Don’t give up on your plans either. I really mean it when I say you’re talented as fuck.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the dried tears and puffy eyes. You say your rushed goodbyes. But before can you leave the room, he holds your arm. “Wait. I know it’s hard, but don’t spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Do you want to do something tonight?”

“Uhhh—what you have in mind?” You can’t believe your ears.

“I don’t know. Do you drink?”

“More than I should.”

“Perfect. So I know a place we can go. Any preference of hours?”

“After 7 pm, I guess?”

“Works for me. I’ll send you the address soon then.” He says. You stand still, frozen, still processing what just happened. He’s blinking as if he just told you how’s the weather outside. “Now you can go.”

“O-kay. See you in a few hours then, Damon.”

“See you in a few hours, Y/N.”

You tried to hide your excitement, in vain. You smiled like an idiot.

This was one of the scenarios of your daydreams when you were walking around, talking quietly to yourself. Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your father, just asked you out. You don't care if it was pity. After such disappointment, you allow yourself to create a little more of that stupid, inconsequential hope that your life would take an exciting turn for the first time.

He sends you the address a few hours after your class/conversation, when you were starting to get ready to meet him. It was a pub that you already knew well, and had visited with some friends in the past. You choose a dress that has become your “uniform” recently, for valuing your body type well and for translating your style in a way that is both stylish and very comfortable. When you finish getting ready, you take a deep breath. There is a world of difference between what you wanted to happen and what you think will happen. But you do not care.

The tragic call you received in the morning barely crosses your mind on your way to the pub.

Upon arriving, you find Damon - always so punctual - sitting in the corner of the lounge fiddling with his cell phone while he takes a few sips of a drink that you have no idea what it is made of. You never took him for a complex drink guy. He is really full of surprises. You feel slightly self-conscious out of a sudden, stomach churning in anticipation. He raises his eyes, and his gaze meets yours. His usual welcoming smile makes all your worries go away. You couldn’t help but smile wide too.

“Hello there. A stark contrast to this morning’s Y/N.” He notes, looking you up and down after you two share a tight hug, that smile still there.

“My plan tonight is to forget everything that happened before we talked, okay? Just let me forget about the call!” You answer, playfully, trying to pretend you weren't in the least ... affected ... by the way he received you.

And the time you spend together goes as usual. It’s amazing how there’s no space for awkward silences between you two. To one thing you tell him, he brings you three more things to tell, and vice-versa. You two just… click. You make each other laugh, and even if things don’t go the way you daydream about, which is totally okay, given that he’s twice your age and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications that age difference has, you’re glad to call him a good friend. He’s amazing, and you’re having a great time with him.

By your fourth beer and his fifth fancy drink, your conversation enters a territory that hasn’t been truly explored by you two yet. His romantic past. You only knew he was divorced because he mentioned it very vaguely one day, nothing else. You didn’t know why, who was her, or when. But apparently, he was about to tell you.

“We were both really… young… and didn’t have a clue of what we were doing with our lives. She was a musician too, Justine. Not anymore.”

“Because of what happened between you two?” You ask, the beers gradually taking the indiscretion filters out of you.

“Maybe. I don’t know. She seemed tired of everything. She wanted a life I’m not sure I would be able to live. I also pressured her a lot, I tried to create a version of her that somehow fitted all my expectations and, long story short, we weren’t right for each other. But I still think she’s incredible. I still admire her a lot. Not sure how she feels about me though.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

“Oh, no. There’s a big difference in admiring someone and being in love with them, kid.”

After that sentence of his, for the first time that night, an uncomfortable silence hangs between you - Instant Crush, by Daft Punk, almost ironically, starts playing on the pub's speakers. You feel like you're in a movie.

You're still a kid, aren't you?

“Definitely.” You finally answer him, finishing 70% of the bottle in a few gulps. You become a bit more lightheaded after that, and your eyes start to struggle to focus. You try to hide how slurred your voice wants to sound. “I confess I still don’t know how to really differentiate between the two.”

“Oh yeah?” His wistful tone gives place to one of amusement. “You never told me about your exes. Feel free to.”

“This is not about them.”

He turns to you, after a one-sided staring competition with his own cup. His voice is calm, and somehow even deeper, when he asks you: “Then who is this about?”

You gulp. The cramped space you were sitting on somehow feels even smaller. And hotter. You feel drops of sweat sliding on your belly. You’re sitting by his side, not in front of him, and that interaction feels almost… primal. You two are trapped by a huge table in a corner very few people can see.

“I think I need to go to the loo.”

He lets you, and you feel his eyes following you to the restroom.

My God. My God. My God.

You take a much longer time to do everything than you really need while reflecting on the dialogue you just had. You feel the ground is starting to spin, and the desire to sleep on literally any place grow. You’re drunk. And confused. And anxious.

You spend some good minutes staring at your own face in the mirror before you return to your table. He’s still in the moment, judging by the contemplative look on his face. This is the point of no return.

This is no movie – this is a fucking RPG.

“It was full,” you justify.

“Yeah, it’s always pretty crowded in there.”

That goddamn awkward silence again. You try to talk at the same time, but he wins.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “It’s… about a guy. He’s a…current… thing. Not from the past.”

“Right.” His tone is serious, more teacher-like than he has even acted while actually teaching you.

“I met him through an ad. I was looking for music teachers in my area and I found him. He had a fair price.” He was now smiling in disbelief, shaking his head. You’re both tipsy and you don’t care if your words are slurred anymore.

“And?”

“I have classes with him every Saturday. It’s the event of the bloody week for me. I can’t believe I’m saying that now because at first he seemed quite intimidating and not open to any meaningful interaction. Like, all frowns and monosyllabic answers and all.” You steal his drink, and he’s not even bothered. “We talk a lot, and even though we talk every day I somehow always thought he didn’t give a fuck about me when we were out of class. That he only saw me as a student, not as a friend, you know? I think about that chap every single day too. He’s handsome--like. Fuck. And he pays attention to everything I say. He’s always so nice to me, he makes me feel welcome. A part of… something.” You take a few more sips, and he gently takes the drink out of your hand, mouthing an ‘enough’. “He’s old enough to be my dad and I feel guilty for thinking of him that way. He invited me for drinks when my world fell so I could get my mind out of the shambles my life’s in and I almost died because I’m madly in love with him for a while now, but I don’t want to ruin everything. I don’t know what to do now. People shouldn’t start things thinking of how they’re going to end, but, you know?”

“They should, though. He’s indeed too old for you. And your life isn’t in shambles.”

“But…”

“Everything sounds pretty lovely in theory, but, he’s probably thinking that he’s going to slow you down in a way. You’ve got too much life to live. He’s probably really tired of everything he’s already lived.”

“But I love him. He makes me laugh! I don’t wanna have children.” You whine.

He muffles a laugh. “It’s not that-“

”Please take me home tonight.” You plead; your tone more serious now. “I know what I’m doing, I know where I am. Just please take me home.”

“Y/N…”

“Please, Damon. If you don’t feel the same then fine, call me an Uber and I’ll get over it.”

That triggers something in him, apparently, and he kisses you deeply and intensely. His hands caress your back and the whole kiss, though a little disjointed because of the state you’re both in, is full of affection and love. His lips taste of strawberry vodka, and your mind is spinning.

When your lips part, you stare at each other for a while, thousands upon thousands of thoughts per second, unsaid. “Are you sure you wanna come with me?” He asks, kissing your hand.

“Yes. I am.”

-

After he fumbles with his keys, you’re finally in his apartment – it’s surprisingly nice and tidy. Judging by how carefree he’s with his looks, you imagined that characteristic would overflow to other aspects of his life.

From the Uber drive home to his door, his hand never left yours.

He locks the door, and you stand staring intently at each other, sizing each other up like men before a fight. This time, you start the kiss, with a little less hurry than before. But the desire is still burning hot on both of you.

“Do you have any idea of what you’re doing to me?”, he murmurs, discarding his jacket while he does his best to not break the kiss. You take this as a signal to start taking off your clothes too, starting by kicking off your shoes. It has become a choreography of sorts - his hands grasp your buttocks and pulls you closer after you’re done with them, drawing a gasp from you.

“I wanted you for so long.” You reply, your hands exploring his body below the fine fabric of his shirt. You motion to take it away from him, and he lets you, completely entranced by how red your lips look from everything it went through. He guides you to his sofa, quickly adjusting it so it’s comfortable enough and serves as a bed for both of you.

He lies down first, eagerly waiting for you to stay on top of him. You finally do, and you feel like a goddess from the way he looks at your body. You take off your dress, and now you’re almost fully exposed to him. You have no bra on, and his hands immediately travel to your breasts, fingers running tantalizingly over your nipples to get them stiff and erect before he pinches them between his fingers, smiling at the whimper his actions elicit. You start bucking your hips on the rough fabric of his trousers, and you feel him harden below you. “God, you’re… something else.” he whispers, and you respond with another whimper, biting back a full on moan when your clit hits the perfect spot. You separate your legs a little further so you can feel him better, drawing a groan from him. He takes this a signal to take his jeans off, eyes not leaving your hips.

Now that a distance of an entire layer is shortened between you, the contact is even more intimate, and the bulge of his cock straining against his underwear is driving you mad. You’re aching for him. He brushes against you and your moan is higher than you expected, and you immediately cover your mouth in order not to wake up his neighbors. As he feels the wet heat of you around his painfully hard cock, he takes your hand out of your lips, grip then tightening on your hips as he pushes you down right on to him. Your moan is even louder. “Let them hear.”

“Fuck-Damon-I’m getting so close--” As if you just gave him a command, his hands now grab the flesh of your inner thighs, massaging them further and further up until he reaches the center of your arousal, and the sound you make when he pulls your panties to the side and runs his finger between your folds while still grinding against you is somewhere between a whine and a whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, voice rough from how excruciatingly aroused he is. “Come for me, baby.” Your clit was more exposed now, pressed more tightly against him and you whine in relief when your orgasm finally floods through your body.  

Before you could fully recover, he finally frees himself from his underwear and, with your help, effortlessly aligns himself with your (quite ready) entrance. You bury your head in his neck the moment he enters you in one swift motion and your moans are almost like cries by now - the overstimulation is driving you insane. You take his face on your hands and give him a passionate kiss while he gradually picks up a merciless pace inside of you, the more heated the kiss becomes the more shamelessly you ride his cock. “Shit,” he mutters, massaging your breasts in an almost desperate way. It’s too much - you’re almost becoming one.

You could tell by how frantically he fucked you now that he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thrusts were becoming irregular and you were so close once again. His head falls forward, buried in between your neck and shoulder - his cock twitches inside of you and his movements become staccato, his mouth curving into a beautiful ‘o’ shape as he comes inside of you. His movements stop before you could reach your second one, but the entire situation you were on was so arousing to you that just by touching yourself while still feeling him inside was enough. Not letting you alone in this, one of his hands focus on one of your nipples while the other one is below yours, providing pressure above your clit. And like that, you come undone a second time, head above his shoulders.

For a few minutes, your panting was the only thing that could be heard inside of the apartment.

“Thank you. You were amazing. ’s been quite a long time.” He notes with a tender kiss on your forehead. After a while, and with much reluctance, he slides out of you, and gets up to fetch a warm, wet cloth and carefully clean you both, finally collapsing next to you with a groan.

“It was everything I expected.” You confess, smiling.

“Did you… think about me like that when you…?”

“Of course. But let’s save this talk for another Saturday.”

[stxrshxpxd]

"i'm not your trophy" || uni damon

pairing: 90s/uni damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.008

warnings: smutish

prompt: damon and reader have known each other forever but never got along. at last they have ended up in bed together.

* * *

Three loud knocks shook my brain awake. One thin stripe of sunlight nearly blinded me as I tried to open my eyes, and a thicker one was drenching my bare shoulder in warmth.

“Yeees,” I grumbled into my pillow and an arm suddenly moved from on top of me to lay next to my face. Shit. Every little detail of last night flashed before my shut eyes in an instant. I moved my head from the sunlight and tried again to open my aching eyes.

“It’s nearly 10! Do you want breakfast or not?” my best friend Cassie shouted rhetorically through the door. Two more knocks and I propped myself up on my elbows, my breasts nearly exposed to Damon next to me. He too had opened his eyes and was glancing at me smugly. I shifted slightly under the covers and came to the conclusion that I was fully nude.

“Stay here.”

“I want breakfast!” he introjected way too loudly. I hushed him immediately but Cassie was already giggling on the other side of the door.

“Is that Damon?”

“Fuck me,” I muttered and shoved my face into my pillow again. “Don’t!” I said and lifted my head again, stopping Damon’s inevitable comment.

“Come onnnn,” Cassie shouted between giggles and she knocked again.

His palm pressed against my rib cage and his lips refused to leave mine, shoving me into my dormitory back first. The sharp corner of my desk pierced into the side of my hip suddenly, but all I could do was laugh into Damon’s mouth. The last two shots had ensured my pain receptors were completely out of order for the next hour or so.

I spotted the bruise in passing as I shimmied past my full body mirror to my left, my duvet draped very poorly over my body. I rummaged through my underwear drawer desperately and managed to slide a pair on, just as I noticed my t-shirt from last night that hung off the top of my dresser.

Damon’s fingers tugged on the stretchy fabric and pulled my t-shirt over my head swiftly, only leaving my lips for a second. He tossed it across my small room somewhere behind him and seconds later I was on my back with my cool pillow against my neck. His hand had already found the button of my jeans.

“Don’t break tradition!” Damon protested and threw his own t-shirt at me. I looked down at the grey shirt by my feet and remembered all the girls that had paraded around in his baggy shirts and smug smiles all around the refectory during breakfast.

“I’m not your trophy,” I stated and slipped my own shirt on instead. It was closely followed by pulling my jeans on as well.

“Okay. Maybe I’m your trophy.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and then Cassie banged on the door again.

“If I tell you it’s boring news you fucked Damon, will you come out? They’ll seriously close the kitchen in 5 minutes.”

“Oh, shout it a bit louder, would you?!”

”Can we- Can you-” I stammered and failed to finish my sentence, as I watched him squeeze into an oversized top of mine. It fit him tightly over the chest and the deep cut of the neck left his collar bones exposed.

I was sat on top of him, my knees digging into my soft mattress on either side of his bony hips. My lips were attached to his left collar bone and his soft pleased grunts fell into my tangled hair as I sucked a bruise into his skin.

I stared at the dark red spot for a second too long, while Damon slipped into his blue jeans again.

“Sorry, you have a few of those too,” he grinned. He wasn’t really sorry. I spun around to study the visible parts of my body and found two large hickeys down the side of my neck.

“I feel about 15,” I muttered and rolled my eyes as I turned back around.

“I feel hungry.”

Damon made a quick decision and dragged me with him, firmly gripping my wrist, and unlocked the door. On the other side of it stood Cassie with a massive smile and a giggle on its way out.

“This didn’t happen,” I stated and waved my hand around in the air between me and Damon.

“I think Damon’s been wanting this since year one, have you not?” Cassie laughed, stepping into possibly risky territory. Cassie didn’t know Damon very well, apart from having been dragged into multiple drunken arguments between the two of us. Damon and I had grown up together, always known each other but never gotten on. It wasn’t until we began going to the same parties, especially the uni ones, that we really began talking to one another. And those talks were always heated discussions to say the least.

“Been wanting this since I was twelve,” Damon singsonged jokingly and Cassie and him giggled in unison.

“Been wanting this since I was twelve,” he had drunkenly breathed into my ear, while his one hand clasped my two wrists, pinning them down above my head. Not a single giggle could be heard.

We paraded into the half full refectory and gained a few looks. I saw the whispers but couldn’t hear them over the rest of the loud rumbling of conversation.

I slid away to an empty table nearby and sank down with a heavy sigh. The hangover was catching up with me. Cassie gave me a questioning look and Damon copied it.

“I’m not hungry,” I said with a steady voice.

“I fed you enough last night, huh?” Damon said with an intentionally loud voice and some of the other voices died down around the room as a reaction. The silliness of the purple low cut top hugging his torso teamed with his smug grin made me exhale another deep sigh and roll my eyes.

“Plenty,” I settled and nodded my head reluctantly as I sank down further in my seat.

[misslachae]

I have a dumb theory about the logistics of the Gorillaz universe.

Stay with me here.

Okay, Ace being in the band confirms that Gorillaz and the PPG share a universe. 

The characters are canonically cartoons in-universe, not humans. They acknowledge that they’re drawn by Jamie Hewlett and two-dimensional and different from us (since they can enter our world too).

BUT

When we humans go to a Gorillaz concert, Damon Albarn and other human beings perform in place of the cartoon band members because there is either a mishap that leaves them unable to make it on stage or they just couldn’t be arsed to show up.

SO

If the Powerpuff Girls went to a Gorillaz concert in the cartoon universe and the band can’t perform, does Damon enter the cartoon universe or

‘Cause I smell a “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”-like movie with Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett and I’m

[cephissoartem]

Here is the complete sleeping Graham. I created him for my very dear friend @augustineblues !! 💕💕💕 She also gave me the prompt for it.

The teddy in his arms originally is supposed to be a Teddy bear Damon owns (in RL) he got it from his mother which got it from her’s etc. However, I thought it would be cute and make it a Damo-bear (complete with small cheek-scar and earring 💕 )

1st is the scan and 2nd the photo 😊

I hope you enjoy this piece!!

Please ask, tag and credit before re-uploading anywhere, thank you 😘

(You can also find me on Instagram @cephissoartem  💕 )

[cqterpillar]

Can you do a part 2 to the enemies to lovers with noel? Loved the first one sm

❝ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐄 ❞

femalereader x noel gallagher

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 !

genre(s) ꩜ enemies to lovers, fluff

warning(s) ꩜ just mild language!

summary ꩜ y/n l/n winds up on an interview with the arrogant yet charming noel gallagher.

a/n ꩜ so sorry this took so long! i’ve been experiencing some burn out & panic since grading period is soon, but i hope this is good 👍

after yesterday, you had no clue how to feel about noel gallagher. it was quite childish how the rocker was in your mind for a good amount of the day, but it was the truth. what could you say? you were feeling like a fish on a line.

and so, today was a new day. quit thinking of him, you attempted to scold yourself, he was kinda rude, huh? alas, they were attempts. you couldn’t shake the gallagher brother out of your head if you tried.

it didn’t help that you had an interview with noel on this very day.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when you arrived, you couldn’t deny that your heart skipped a beat when you saw noel gallagher backstage getting ready to go on to the studio set. a brown couch and a charismatic talk show host awaited you both.

you turned around to grab a drink, perhaps water or a coffee, before hearing that intoxicating voice that seemed to reel you in.

“well, if it isn’t the birdie!”

you spun back to face him. the brunet wore a playful grin that made you want to smack it off of him but kiss him simultaneously. it would be much easier to hate him if he wasn’t so attractive and hadn’t saved you from the paparazzi.

“ah, and if it isn’t the cuck who won’t call me by my actual name.” you retaliated bitterly, yet you wore an annoyed smile of sorts.

“he simply smirked, “feisty, aren’t we? you’re awfully cute when you’re angry.”

“what?” you gasped, then shook your head, “why is it so fun for you to mess with me?”

noel simply shrugs and holds up a teenage magazine to you teasingly, “eh, this little paragraph says it all, love.”

for an adolescent article, you listed out to your celebrity crushes to your teenage fans. it was a crime how you forgot. not to mention, noel actually decided to read it.

“ooh, hard question. well, i’m gonna be honest, a lot of the britpop stars are attractive. maybe damon albarn of blur, and just maybe the brothers from oasis. next question pretty please?”

after covering your mouth from shock, noel prompted, “the brothers from oasis, huh? don’t really get what you see in my brother but the other one is alright.”

“that’s a cheap shot. it was for a teen magazine!” you argued.

“but you still said it.” noel wore the proudest smile as he sauntered onto the stage with you.

fake smiles were given to the audience as you jokingly blew kisses to the crowd. everyone cheered as you sat, a bit awkwardly, next to noel.

“how are you both?” said the host.

noel snickered, “oh, just wonderful. and you, y/n dear?”

“peachy.” you rolled your eyes.

the host laughed, “looks like someone saw what noel had to say about them on tv. y/n, care to share?”

“sure, sure,” you started, “i’m not a princess and i don’t rely on my looks. at least, i can’t help it. can’t help it if i’m just so beautiful.”

you batted your eyelashes, and in response, noel scoffed with a smile, “yeah right, you’re a daddy’s girl and you know it.”

“at least i don’t call people pet names when they stress that they don’t like it.”

“oh? that junk food magazine back in the waiting room said you dug pet names and you thought i was handsome.”

“yeah, you thought. people can change!”

“if you don’t like me, how come you’ve been pink in the cheeks ever since we started talking about pet names?”

and to that, you cursed, “damnit!”

the host sipped their coffee, watching the shit show happen live. in retrospect, you wished that you wouldn’t have gotten into such an argument on television, but oh well. everyone has to face embarrassment from time to time. at least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

“didn’t i hear something about y/n discussing noel in a teen magazine? shed some light on that, noel.” the host asked.

“y/n said that i was attractive. one of her celebrity crushes.”

“it was for teenagers, for christ’s sake!” you wailed on the couch.

noel looked back at you, “guess it was for me too then, yeah?”

you grew pinker and pinker. it was so unfortunate how the camera picked up the hue of your rosy complexion. how frustrating to be sat next to such a guy.

“i-i… um… next question, please?” you squeaked out.

the host simply laughed at you, “wow, you’re so pink after that! does someone have a crush?”

“why me?” you pretended to sob, “ask someone in the crowd!!”

“so, does this mean i can pick you up on friday at five o’clock for dinner then?” noel questioned you smugly.

you sighed, finding no more use in fighting. it’s not like you wanted to fight that much anyways. the brunet had his moments.

“… fine.”

the audience cheered and noel snatched a piece of paper and a pen for you to write your number down.

despite the sarcastic smile on your face, your heart couldn’t be more excited.

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Ten random songs from my playlist and my favourite of them today, as I have not yet finished the next writing instalment/prompt:

1. Cold Little Heart - Michael Kiwanuka

2. Apple Carts - Damon Albarn

3. You & I - One Direction

4. Own My Mind - Måneskin

5. Out of Reach - Gabrielle

6. Love Song - Vashti Bunyan

7. Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll - The Killers

8. Jealous - Labrinth

9. I’m So Stupid - Madonna

10. I’m Like a Bird - Nelly Furtado

My favourite today:

- Jealous by Labrinth - Enjoy! ❤️

[beetlebumxo]

I Kind of Like Crazy (smut)

I Kind of Like Crazy (smut)

Pairing: Early 00s Damon x Reader

Word count: 3,916

Warnings: SMUT, language, the usual smut warnings... 

A/N: Based on "psycho" Damon from the Gorillaz Charts of darkness/Bananaz, also slightly inspired by the show "Ratched". Thank you to my friend Laura for this prompt/working out some of the ideas with me. As a backstory, (well, canon from CoD) Damon went "insane" as he claims he was "beaten up by cartoon characters" and ended up in a mental institution. This is the setting for the story.

--

It was his first day here, he had gotten into a fight before coming in. His face was scratched up, and a long white bandage was wrapped around his (presumably) aching head. 

"My name is Y/N, if you need anything just ask for me." I chirped while looking down at him. He was slumped in a chair, holding his head up with this hand, resting his elbow on the armrest. He was so intense, jaw clenched, staring down at the floor.

"Yea.." he said, barely raising his head to look at me. 

"Mr. Albarn.." I began as he lifted his head, barely moving his lips.

"Damon.." he mumbled in a soft, quiet voice.

"Damon… do you understand why you're here?" I questioned, trying to get a better look at him, but he only moved his head slightly towards me.

"Look, I've told you a thousand times…" His deep, tired voice was laced with frustration, I didn't want to push him anymore on the subject. 

"Listen, they're going to keep you here while the investigation is ongoing. There's a growing concern for your well-being, and I---"

"And you what?" He shot back, now looking directly at me through the long lashes that lined his blueish-green eyes. I straightened myself up as best as I could -- trying to brush off his somewhat rude response.  "And.. I believe you saw something. But right now I'm here to make sure you're ok, are you ok?" He just nodded.  “Ok, Damon, ok, just let me know if you need anything.” I said as I made my way out of the room.

------

(A week later)

Standing outside the building, leaning against the cool brick, I took a moment to take in the events that occurred over the last week.  Damon had finally taken a liking to me, or so I thought. He had this intensity about him and yet, he could be so silly and child-like. I had to admit I was very attracted to these qualities. He was so incredibly handsome, right down to the little cut on his perfect nose. The more I thought about him, the more I knew how wrong this was.

"Fuck, this is not good, Y/N, not good," I muttered as I reached for a cigarette.  

I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes, the warm smoke filled my lungs -- I slowly exhaled trying to let my troubled thoughts go.

"You know, smoking is bad for you." There he was again, batting his box of cigarettes in his hand. Damon removed one long white stick from the box, brought it up to his lips, and began to light it. 

“Wait, how did y---” I began, but Damon interrupted.

"I like to live a little dangerously, love." He smiled, holding the cigarette between his imperfectly perfect teeth. His grin suddenly grew a little wider. “And well, maybe a little bribery goes a long way?” 

He winked and grabbed the cigarette from between his soft pink lips, to now rest between his slightly bruised fingers. I loved his hands, they were truly just as gorgeous as his face--  a little dirty, ragged, with perfectly placed veins. 

He paused, shifting his gaze from his cigarette over to me again. "Tell me, why do you always do that?" He said, cocking his head to the side.

"Do what?" I smiled softly.

"Well, the way you.. kind of, sort of -- wrap your hair around your finger when you're nervous, the way you, uh,  bite your lip when you're unsure. The way you always have to make sure your skirt is pulled down low enough, because sometimes you're just a little insecure about that scar on your leg, yeah?"  

He smiled slyly at me. I squinted my eyes at him, somewhat flattered he had been paying such close attention to me.

"I see you've been studying me, hm?"   I curled my lips into a small smile, taking another long drag of my cigarette.

"Y/N.." he exhaled as smoke covered his slightly crooked bottom row of teeth.  "You're very pretty to look at, you know?" His eyes were focused on me. I felt heat rising to my cheeks, which were probably flushed by now. 

I cleared my throat --  "Oh.. thank you. You’re pretty easy on the eyes too." was the best I could come up with. I wanted to tell him how he'd been on my mind, how I couldn't stop thinking about him--, but I couldn't bring myself to do it-- that would have been completely inappropriate. 

"Who wouldn't fancy this?" He laughed while batting his long lashes. I could tell he was only half-joking -- he knew he was absolutely gorgeous.

“You are something, Damon.” I shook my head and laughed.  “I have to head back now, ok?” I really didn’t want to break up the conversation.

“Yeah, ok.” He said.

I turned to leave when he unexpectedly grabbed my hand. My hands began to sweat, my heart began to beat fast. I looked down -- his hands were big, his fingers were so long and beautiful, I loved how his hand felt gripping mine, even for that short moment. 

"I'll be seeing you, Y/N" he said with a smile. I smiled back --  this was trouble.

---

(The next day)

I tried not to let on how much Damon had an affect on me. I had to push the feelings down and keep this professional. Damon was sitting on his bed as I approached. I took a long, deep breath--

"Ok, I need to be a real nurse today and check how you're healing." I chuckled, bringing my hand to his chin to examine him. I tried to choke down all of my feelings and simply do my job.

"So, what were you on the other days, then?" He smiled a small devious grin.

My hand just barely touched his skin, but I could start to feel a slight tightness and warmth in my stomach again. He was even more beautiful up close - those blue eyes, that perfect nose -- and a smile that just melted my heart. I must have been studying him a little too long, I could feel his eyes on me. 

Just then, Damon lifted his hand to my wrist, moving it in such a way that we were now face to face.  Everything was happening in slow motion, as I stared into his eyes. He reached out pulling me closer, leaning into me, his lips inches from mine-- his warm breath on my face 

*click* -- it was the door handle. I jumped back, breaking the tension--it was only my colleague doing rounds. 

"I, I, I should go.." I stuttered as my heart and mind were racing. Damon just smirked at me, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

"Aww..." he teased. He looked me up and down again, I shifted my eyes quickly around the room. I didn't know what to say, the whole incident had taken me by surprise.  I walked back into the hall and tried to pull myself together again. 

--

(The following day)

I had success with avoiding him for most of the day -- this gave me more time to think about how to handle whatever this was. Oh, but he was so perfect. I let out a heavy sigh -- I needed to take a break to just clear my head. I made my way to the small back stairway. The door slammed shut behind me, echoing through the empty space. As I reached the platform, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Ahhhh what the fuck??” I yelled.

"Shh, shh, love it's only me." It was Damon reassuring me. His hair was slightly messy, poking out from the white bandage that was still wrapped tightly around his forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Ugh, Damon!” I looked at him angrily, but after a few moments my face softened “Oh....... fine. I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Few people can.” he winked.

“So let me guess how you got out..hmm..let’s see...” I placed my hand on my chin --   "You know, I’m going to just take a guess that you're not used to hearing the word 'No' very often are you?" I said with a small smile, assuming that he had charmed his way out again.

"You certainly wouldn't tell me 'No' now would you?" He now made direct eye contact with me, turning more serious and intense. 

"That depends on what you're asking --- Damon."  I gave in and reached out, playfully running my finger up his arm. There I was touching him again, I couldn’t help myself. I noticed his little slightly indented tooth as he smiled at me.  He grabbed my arm and pulled me close, my breath hitched.

"What am I asking? Oh, Y/N.." his voice cracked a little bit-- his tone was so dark, deep and sexy. I could almost feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leaned in close to my ear.

 "I've seen the way you look at me, and how you shift your body.." his lips brushed my ear "..when I do this" he began to run his calloused fingers over my hand.  I felt a jolt of electricity run down my spine, these feelings were too much--  "I mean, do you really think you could tell me, 'No' now?" He smiled a smug, overconfident smile. I felt pressure building in my stomach. I pulled away and looked into his eyes again.

"Mhm, you know, this is not very….professional. “ I teased.

Damon now had a devilish smirk across his handsome face. He backed me against the railing and ran his large hand against my cheek. He slowly leaned in and kissed me. Pressing his lips to mine I opened my mouth as he pushed his tongue in. I felt a rush, and a throbbing in my core. He held his hand against my jaw and continued to explore my mouth. I brought my hands up to his jaw pulling him into me, tasting his mouth on mine. The pressure was building up inside of me but at the same time, it was a release, as if this most basic craving for him was finally being satisfied--even if only briefly. 

"Too much?" He smiled. I stood there watching him, I wanted so much more. He smirked then clicked his tongue as he walked back up the stairs. What a tease he was.  I braced myself against the railing, breathing hard. "No…. no, it wasn't too much. Oh….. shit." I muttered, unsure if he could hear me.

--

I lingered against the railing for a few minutes, taking in what had just happened.  I took a moment to catch my breath before making my way back upstairs. My entire body was aching for him. My breaths began to quicken, as I thought about his lips, his hands, his body pressing into me. 

I made my way back to the office, it was very late now, almost everyone had gone home. I went to tidy a few papers before leaving, when suddenly, as if on cue, he was at the door--

“I couldn’t stay away, and I know you didn’t want me to.” He began.

"Oh, I don't know.." I smiled.  "But, what are you bribing those nurses with, again?" I teased. 

"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" He flirted back, leaning his tall frame against the door.

"And just maybe I would....could it be you're just one of those… naughty boys?". I didn’t care to keep this professional any longer -- he had pushed me over the edge -- 

He chuckled, closing the door behind him. He walked up to me pushing my back against the desk. As I gripped the side, he began to run his fingers along my hand and slowly up my arm. I could feel my body temperature begin to rise from his movements.

"Maybe I'll just show you what a naughty boy I really am."  Oh, the way those words rolled off of his tongue -- "Y/N…. I'm not actually crazy, but you are driving me completely insane." He said.

“I kind of like crazy, Damon. I need more." I purred. My next breath was caught somewhere in my chest, I could barely breathe feeling his body pressed tightly against mine. Pressing his long fingers to the side of my neck behind my ear, he stretched his hand out just enough to run his thumb very lightly over my bottom lip.  I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing.

“Are you sure?”  He tilted my head up and began to leave a trail of small fiery wet kisses on my neck. "Like that?" My body was completely on fire now. All I could mutter was a breathy "Like that....." 

He shifted just attention back to my mouth, pushing his large tongue in so deeply. My hands slowly began to roam his sturdy, strong body. I managed to squeak out a few words as he pulled away for a moment.

"Wait--” I had a moment of clarity, before I was swallowed again by his charm. “Do you know how much trouble we would be in if we were caught right here?" I asked.

“I told you, I like to live dangerously.” he replied, grabbing my face with his hand pulling me closer to him while running his thumb over my lips again, this time smearing my lipstick all over my mouth and chin. I grabbed his hand and began to kiss and suck on his beautiful, long fingers, leaving small traces of whatever lipstick was left. He began to push his fingers in and out of my mouth, slowly at first, but then a little faster.  I could tell that he liked what I was doing to him as the bulge in his pants grew.

I grabbed his face, kissing him again, pushing my tongue back in his mouth, running it over his crooked bottom row of teeth --  I sucked at his bottom lip gently taking it between my teeth. 

He grabbed my hips with his large hands and sat me on the side of the cherry wood desk, the pressure from his fingers on my hips was almost too much for me. He brought his hand back up to my face and began to kiss me harder, slowly moving his lips to my neck as I carefully ran my hands through his hair.

My body tingled with nervous excitement as he began to unbutton my uniform, starting at the top, working his way down. His lips were back on me, slowly kissing my collar bone. I threw my head back, letting out a soft moan. I wanted him to devour me whole. 

He moved down to my chest barely grazing my skin with his teeth. He made quick work of freeing my breasts from my tight bra. Cupping my left breast he began to suck and lick at my soft sensitive skin. Running his thumb over my nipple, he brought his tongue to my right breast, slowly licking while squeezing my left. It felt so good the way he was paying attention to exactly what my body needed. I could only reply with another moan as I felt a wetness pool beneath my panties. 

He sat down in the chair and pulled me to the edge of the desk. He slowly pushed my legs apart revealing my completely soaked panties, and began to slowly rub his finger up and down over and over again. 

"Why don't you let me take care of you for a change, darling?" he said. 

“Yes.. please.. please...” I panted.

I felt him press his warm tongue against the wet fabric of my panties. Feeling his warm breath on my thigh, he began to slowly lick long wet stripes up and down my underwear. With the pressure of his tongue and the tip of his nose against the thin material that was so close to my heat, I only wanted him to remove the barrier between us and push his tongue in, but he only kept teasing me.

"Oh, Fuuckkk ...." I whispered, as I watched him continue to tease me.

He stood up and finally removed his shirt and unzipped his pants. Oh, he was so big I almost gasped at finally being able to see what he had been hiding from me. He stood against the desk and ran his long index finger along my panties but this time looping them around his finger and pulling them off. I could feel the cool air hit my wet core.

"Oh, just look at you." He hissed as he licked his left index finger and pushed it deep inside of me. His words alone were enough to push me over, but I held back. My body jerked back as he began to finger me.

"So good.." He whispered in a low voice, as he pushed a second finger in and began to pump them in and out. He muffled my moans by placing the fingers from his right hand in my mouth, while the fingers from his left hand were inside of me. I began to ride his hand hard while clutching onto the side of the desk. He rubbed my clit more and more with his thumb, pushing me closer to the edge. 

His hard cock was now directly against my wet folds as he stood between my legs, I wanted him to just finish the job so badly. He looked at me in awe, watching the pleasure across my face. I leaned forward pulling his face down to me, licking his wet lips. I lightly kissed and licked the little cuts and bruises across his beautiful face. I slowly moved my hips against his hard cock. "Mmhm," he moaned, trying to control himself as he began to buck his hips against my core.

"Fuuck, I want to be inside your tight wet cunt" he moaned.

“Please..." I begged as I thought about how incredible he would feel inside of me.

"Please what, love? Tell me what you need.". He moved his ear up to my lips. Fucking tease.

"Take Me. Fuck me…..  Ruin me." I said as I grazed his ear with my teeth, lightly pulling at his little hoop earring. 

“Ruin you?” he chuckled, pretending as if I had offended him. “I don’t know if I---.” 

Before he even finished his sentence - with one quick motion, he was deep inside of my wet, aching core. I let out a gasp as he began to thrust hard and fast, hitting my spot almost every time.

"Damooonnnn.. " I moaned. He pulled me up into a sitting position on the desk, pushing harder into me. I leaned into him, wrapping my legs tightly around him-- he began to pant and breathe heavy in my ear, while every now and then, kissing and licking at my shoulder. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, his breaths were quick and ragged.  I loved the sounds he made -  small little groans of pleasure. I gripped him, digging my nails into his burning skin, hoping to leave my mark. He looked so delicious, screwing his face up whenever I would clench myself around him as he buried his face into my neck.

"You feel..so.. incredible.." he said in between heavy breaths.  I bit my lip hard as I felt my stomach tighten again.

I felt him pull away, removing himself, causing me to let out a small whimper. His strong arms flipped me over, pushing me down, bending me over the desk. My breasts were now pressed tightly against the wooden surface.

He teased me again with his tip, running it up and down my wet folds, as he leaned forward, pressing me down, his large hands directly on top of mine, I felt a slight pressure from the weight of his body -- but I wanted to feel him so badly. I wanted to feel that force on me. He slowly began to kiss and lick my ear.

"Fuuckkk ---" was all I could get out before he slammed back into me again. I could feel his hands now gripping my shoulders, I felt him push his thumbs into my back-- hoping he would leave a mark on me, too -- I wanted to be his. Reaching his left hand over, he began to rub my clit harder and faster as he thrust into me. He was so big, and I was so wet. I could feel the edge of the desk rubbing against me, which made it harder for me to maintain control, it wasn’t going to be long. 

Damon let out a few low, sexy growls as he pushed into me -- it became too much. My orgasm hit hard.  I threw my head back as my whole body clenched and tightened. My legs went weak as I finally released all tension -- I could hardly hold myself up. Damon removed his grip and I pushed myself up from the desk. He was so gorgeous, his beautiful face was just staring right at me. 

“Oh, sweetheart, that felt good, didn’t it?” He smirked, while rubbing himself. I still wanted him, even after those intense waves of pleasure washed over me, I still really wanted him. He had such an affect on me.

“You really know what you’re doing, huh?” I managed to reply.

“I’ve had some practice.” he smirked again. “Mmm..now.. how about you help me feel good?”

I nodded. I would have done anything he asked me to. I laid back down on the desk, as he stood between my legs. I let out a few moans to try and entice him. “You are so fucking beautiful, tell me, where do you want it?”

I moved my hand to my stomach, I watched it rise and fall quickly with each breath. I was still trying to recover.  Damon began to rub himself harder. I watched as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Mpphh”. He moaned. It was so hot just watching him, knowing I was the one he wanted. His breaths became ragged as he reached the edge - suddenly his whole body jerked, as he released his warm, hot liquid on my stomach. He was breathing so hard. I was sitting up on my hands, leaning towards him. He reached out and pulled me close to his face, gently kissing my salty lips.

"That was.. everything I hoped it would be, love.” He paused.  “I just can't wait until I'm out of here."

I pulled back, looking him in the eye. "Oh..?" I said, not sure what he meant by that response. Damon could tell that I was a little concerned.

"Oh..” he chuckled. “Sweetheart, so we can do this all of the time, you know..?” His face was flushed and still slightly sweaty. He was so fucking gorgeous, I still could not believe what just happened. "I really, really want to take care of you. I want to do this properly, love. You deserve that. I want to make you feel so good. You're incredible in so many ways" he continued. “I want to be with you, if you'll have me.”

I grabbed his face, slowly running my thumb over his pink-tinged lips. His eyes were soft, he looked even more handsome, if that was even possible. 

"I would love nothing more...." I closed the space between us and brought my lips back up to his; I felt him smile.