#graham coxon x imagines

[unearthmyburiedheart]

"I Want This So Much"

Pairing: Graham Coxon x Female Reader I imagined 1999, 2000, or 2001 era Graham as I wrote this fan fic, but feel free to imagine any Gra era you'd like! Word Count: 4,479 Warnings: No warnings, except this fan fic is EXTREMELY smutty and involves period sex. Brief mentions of blood and other bodily fluids. Prompt: No real prompt, just an idea I've had for a while! Period sex with Graham. That's about it! Note: This fan fic is the first one I've written in ages and ages and ages and I am quite nervous to post it. Please be kind! It's a very unserious exercise and I wrote it purely for my own entertainment and enjoyment, but I ultimately decided to share it on tumblr despite feeling really shy and anxious. Writing this sexy fan fic gave me a lot of joy and I hope you all like it! Lots of love! ***

I suddenly wake up from a deep sleep and feel intense pain shooting through my abdomen, lower back, and thighs.  My foggy brain registers period cramps.  Thoroughly exhausted, I quietly groan and lightly shift my weight on Graham’s bed.  It’s almost pitch black in Graham’s room, save for the moonlight filtering in through his bedroom window.  It’s completely silent, aside from the rain tapping on the window and Graham’s soft breathing as he sleeps soundly next to me.  I shift my weight again and glance at his sleeping figure under the covers.  His back is facing me and his hair is disheveled.  I watch his body gently rise and fall and I fight the urge to run my fingers across his bare shoulders.

I shift my weight a third time and reach for Graham’s bedside table in the darkness.  I contemplate turning on his bedside lamp, but I don’t want to disturb his sleep.  Another wave of period cramps shoots through the lower half of my body and I wince as I grasp my water bottle.  I sit up on my elbows and take several small sips of water.  I force myself to roll out of bed and stand up.  I suddenly feel lightheaded and my legs shake as another wave of pain hits me.  My water bottle still in hand, I slowly walk several paces to the end of Graham’s bed and feel in the dark for my duffel bag.  I carefully make my way into Graham’s bathroom and when I step onto the cool tile, close the door behind me, turn on the light and drop my bag, I lightly gasp at what I see.  My period has definitely started, and in the most dramatic and messy way possible.  My underwear and thighs are heavily smeared in blood and I sigh in frustration. 

I immediately peel my bloody underwear from my body and rummage in my bag for a clean pair.  I put in a tampon, clean my legs, and pull on a pair of sweatpants.  After taking several tablets of pain medicine and drinking deeply from my water bottle, I step back into Graham’s bedroom.  I notice his bedside lamp is on and he’s propping himself up on his elbows to look at me.  Squinting at me with a curious expression, he studies my face as I walk back to his bed.  Graham obviously wasn’t sleeping as deeply as I thought he was.    

“Why are you awake?” he asks groggily.  “I rolled over and reached for you, but you weren’t there.” 

I bury myself under the covers, turn off his bedside light, and move my body towards him.  “Really bad period cramps,” I say softly.  I feel him move his body close to mine in return.  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him, nuzzling our noses together as he presses his forehead into mine.

“Oh,” he whispers.  “I’m sorry.  Do you need anything?” 

“No,” I answer, and I curl myself into him.  His body is so warm.  I breathe slowly for a while.  The pain is awful, but not unusual for the first day of my period, and I know I just have to wait for the medicine to take effect.  Graham holds me in silence.  I whimper as another wave of pain hits my lower back and he kisses my cheeks as I say “owww” several times in a row. 

I reposition myself and turn over so my back faces him.  His chest now pressed against my back, he gently moves my hair and kisses the back of my neck.  I sigh happily as his warm hands first reach under the back of my shirt and then reach under the waistband of my sweatpants.  He gently touches my waist.  He moves his warm hands across my abdomen and lower back as he attempts to soothe me with his touch.  He always does this when I struggle with period cramps and I bite my bottom lip in contentment.

“Do you want the heating pad?” he asks, but I shake my head. 

“No,” I answer quietly.  “The medicine will kick in soon.  Your hands feel nice.” 

He kisses the back of my neck again and holds me in silence as I wait for the pain to recede.  As the pain disappears, I feel myself falling into a deep sleep.  Graham kisses the back of my neck several times before gently pulling his body away from mine.  In a matter of seconds, sleep pulls us under. ***

The following morning is cloudy.  Rain steadily patters against Graham’s bedroom window.  His room is exceptionally cozy.  I open my eyes, register the comforting sound of rain, and roll over onto my back.  I prop myself up on my elbows and immediately feel the dull pain of continued period cramps.  The pain has significantly lessened, but a minor ache spreads throughout my lower back and I force myself to stand up, stretch, and take additional pain medicine.

I hear Graham’s voice coming from the kitchen.  I smile as I hear him softly singing to himself.  I hear the whistling of a teapot, the clattering of utensils, and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing when I hear him sharply curse.

“Fuck,” he says loudly, and just a few moments later he’s walking back to his room holding two steaming mugs.  His eyes light up when he sees me. 

“What happened?” I laugh, and he smiles and shakes his head. 

“I accidentally slammed my fucking finger in the silverware drawer,” he says, handing me a steaming mug of hot chocolate.  I see he made himself a cup of tea.  He kisses me good morning, motions for us to sit on his bed, and we bury ourselves under the covers as we happily sip our drinks.

“Thank you for making this for me,” I say, taking a long drink from my mug. 

“You’re welcome,” he answers.  I flush as he leans over to kiss me deeply again.  We sit in silence for several minutes as we finish our drinks and listen to the rain.  It’s so peaceful.  Graham collects our empty mugs and places them on his bedside table.  My period pain has almost completely disappeared and I feel so content.  Graham looks at me and begins gently stroking the back of my right hand.  His fingers tenderly moving up the back of my hand, across my wrist, and up to my elbow, then back down again.  I break out in goosebumps at his touch.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks.

“Better,” I answer.  “My cramps are almost gone.” 

He nods and his concerned expression turns to one of relief and contentment.  We sit in silence for several moments and I enjoy the pleasurable feeling of his fingers moving against my skin.  Graham shifts his weight on his bed and suddenly rolls his body on top of mine.  I smile and laugh as he pulls a funny face and settles his body weight on top of me. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks.  “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” I answer, and I laugh as he contorts his face into another ridiculous expression.  I playfully slap his bare shoulders and he laughs in return.  He looks into my eyes for several long moments and his gaze is so loving and full of want that I’m forced to break his eye contact.  Even after all this time, the intimacy is sometimes too much to bear.  His hands find my hair, my hands find his hair, and we’re kissing so deeply and passionately until I have to pull away to take a breath.  Our cheeks flushed and our gazes locked, he tells me he wants me.  I bite my lip and smile and am just about to kiss him again when a thought flashes through my mind.      

“Are you sure?” I ask.  “You want to now?  I don’t want to stain your sheets.” 

He laughs warmly and averts his eyes to a spot just beside me on his bed.  “I think you already did,” he says smiling, his dark eyes moving between my body and a massive smear of dried blood on his sheets.  He leans back to allow me to sit up slightly and glance at the spot of blood on his bed.  I’d somehow completely missed this spot until now.  I flush with minor embarrassment.

“Fuck, Graham, I’m so sorry – “ I start, but he immediately cuts me off.

“I don’t care at all,” he says, laughing warmly again, his eyes looking into mine.  “It doesn’t matter at all.  The stain will come out or it won’t.  I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened before, seeing as we’ve done this so many times…” 

He trails off, his brown eyes slightly glinting, and I look back at him and laugh, my embarrassment forgotten.  He leans his body weight down onto me again, my fingers intertwining into his messy hair, and I close my eyes as he places light, fluttering kisses across my neck.  I lightly gasp as his mouth covers every inch of skin across my neck.  I run my hands across the back of his neck and shoulders as he deepens his kisses into my skin.  I run my fingers through his hair and gently pull as his tongue runs across my skin and his mouth sucks on my earlobe.  His warm breath against my skin; his kissing still so deep and tender; his hands running through my hair as I grip his hair; and I let out a small moan as his tongue dances across me again. 

I pull harder at his hair and he makes a small noise in return.  I bite my lip and smile when I hear the noise; he is so perfect and so beautiful.  “Graham,” I breathe, “this feels really nice.”  He slows his kisses, then comes to a pause as he looks at me, his mouth red and swollen.

“I want this so much,” I say, and another small noise escapes his throat indicating that he wholeheartedly agrees.  He kisses me deeply for several long moments and I feel his tongue push into my mouth.  I open my mouth to receive him and we’re softly moaning as our mouths work steadily together.  Our mouths moving perfectly together, I’m forced to break away and gasp for just a moment when I feel his hands slide under my t-shirt and envelop my breasts.  

His touch is confident, but gentle; firm, but tender, and I close my eyes and lose myself as his hands work against me.  I lift my arms above my head and he swiftly removes my shirt.  I breathe harder when he replaces his hands with his mouth and tongue.  His tongue now dancing across my chest and his face buried into one breast and then the other, kissing, sucking, and nipping at my skin.  I pull his hair again as his mouth sucks on my right nipple.  More than anything, though, I love listening to the noises he makes as his mouth works against me.  He moans into my chest several times; his moans muffled, but passionate, and I can’t stand it, it sends my mind spiraling. 

“That feels so good,” I pant, already feeling like I’m losing myself.  My mind clouds with pleasure at his touch and I lean heavily into these feelings.  He removes his mouth from my left nipple and looks up at me, a small smile on his lips.  He immediately returns his mouth to my breasts, then moves his mouth up slowly, tortuously across my neck, then down to my breasts again, and then even lower as he maneuvers his body down in order for his mouth to cross my stomach.  He isn’t moving downwards fast enough and it is becoming difficult to bear.  His lips graze my stomach ever so slightly and I whimper as I feel his fingertips dance between my skin and the waistband of my sweatpants.  I start to squirm under his touch. 

I let out a sharp gasp and buck my hips as he quickly pulls my sweatpants and underwear off in one sudden motion.  My clothing now discarded on the floor, I see him smirk and I know he is dragging it out on purpose.  I pull his hair as he plants kisses all over my stomach and waist. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, looking up at me and I smile in return.  He positions himself in front of my legs and I sigh when I feel his hands run up and down my closed thighs.  He gently kisses my knees several times and tightly squeezes my thighs.  Gripping my thighs and gazing directly into my eyes, he commands, “open your legs for me.” 

I flush at this request and feeling his hands still gripping my thighs, I part my legs and make a small noise as his eyes move across my body.  I’m panting now, my hands gripping the comforter and my eyes closed, I’m leaning into the heady anticipation and it’s unbelievably thrilling. 

“Look at me,” he says, and I open my eyes to stare directly into his.  It’s overwhelming because he refuses to break eye contact, even when his fingers reach down to touch my tampon string.  Neither one of us refusing or daring to break such intense eye contact, we stare at each other as he wraps his fingers around my tampon string and gently pulls my tampon out of my body.  I whimper again and bite my lip as I feel him pull it out of me.  Without missing a beat, he wraps my tampon in several tissues, tosses it in the wastebasket next to his bed, and lowers himself between my open thighs.  He pulls a sharp intake of breath.  He says my name several times, but his voice is so choked with arousal and want that I barely register his words.      

He begins kissing all across my stomach, waist, and inner thighs; no patch of skin remains uncovered by his mouth.  He sucks, nips, and kisses all across my inner thighs, teasing me as much as I can stand.  Butterflies dance in my stomach with anticipation and eagerness.  “Fuck,” I moan quietly as I feel his tongue drag across my inner thighs.  My hips slightly buck again in anticipation. 

His fingers gently trace me, becoming smeared with my blood and arousal, and move up and down the length of me before gently parting me.  He taps my hips, indicating that he wants me to raise them, and then I feel his hands slide under me and squeeze my backside.  I moan at the contact.  His hands work against my backside for a few moments as I try to steady my raised hips, but his mouth and tongue begin moving against me in earnest and soon I am riding waves of pleasure that erase everything else from my mind.  I moan loudly several times; it feels so unbelievably good.  I feel him repeatedly push his tongue inside of me and I bite my wrist to prevent myself from screaming.  

My mind sees white and the feelings he’s giving me are so overwhelming that I almost cry out in protest when he pauses for a brief moment and removes his hands from my backside.  He grips my thighs to steady me, pulls his tongue out from inside of me, and eagerly kisses and sucks on my inner thighs. 

“You sound so beautiful, so perfect.  You sound fucking amazing,” he says.  “I want to hear you, don’t stop making noise.”  I open my eyes, look into his, and feel my cheeks flush. 

“How does it feel?” he asks, smirking slightly because he already knows the answer.  Seeing his mouth, chin, and nose smeared with my blood makes all of this a million times more arousing.    

“Really fucking good,” I say.  “Please don’t stop.” 

A low hum of satisfaction escapes his throat.  His eye lids heavy, he lowers himself again.  I gasp and push my hips forward at the renewed contact.  His arms and hands snugly wrapped around my thighs, he buries his face into my body, echoing my moans back to me as I grow closer and closer to a release.  I’m not thinking anymore and he isn’t holding back.  My heart swells with arousal and affection as my hips fall into a rhythm against his mouth.  I feel his fingers massage my center and I moan in pleasure and surprise. 

“Graham,” I choke out as my brain sees static.  Every nerve feels on fire.  I feel his tongue tightly circle my center once, twice, three times, then as his mouth applies additional pressure and he sucks on me, sparks set off in my brain and pleasure rushes through my entire body.  I can’t even begin to form words, I just grip his hair and attempt to steady my shaking legs as I feel his mouth drink me down and his tongue move in and around me.  My head thrown back, moaning and breathing hard, gripping his hair, and his face buried into my body, I couldn’t believe this was happening. 

His mouth works in and around me for several incredible moments and he lightly kisses everywhere he can find as my breathing slows and the pleasure recedes.  We lay together; my breathing slowing down and my eyes closed, his head resting on my stomach that gently rises and falls.  Our hands now intertwined as he plants gentle kisses and leaves small smears of blood all across my waist and abdomen.  No words are spoken for several minutes.  He eventually pulls himself up, settles his weight on top of me again, and touches my chin to look into my face.  He kisses me deeply several times before pulling away and asking, “do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,” I breathe.  “I don’t want to stop.”

He nods, kisses me again, and swiftly pulls out a small tube of lubrication and a box of condoms from his bedside table.  He shifts his body weight off me and stands next to his bed.  He opens his tube of lubrication, applies it generously across his fingers on his right hand, and then positions himself back onto his bed.  Kneeling in front of my open legs, he gathers additional lube and applies it against me.  Propping myself up on my elbows and staring into his face with a slightly amused expression, I ask, “do you really think we’ll need all of that?”

He laughs and shakes his head.  “Probably not,” he says, “but I want you to be comfortable.”

“Are you ready?” he asks, as he slowly parts me again and moves his fingers through me.  Desire floods through me again; I want him so badly.  “Yes,” I gasp, as he gently taps my center.  I nod eagerly; my back slightly arches and my hips push towards him, silently begging him to continue.  He slowly and carefully inserts his middle finger into me.  I bit my bottom lip and moan at the contact.  His finger slides in easily and my body doesn’t resist.  I hear him pant and moan slightly as he moves and arches his finger inside of me, my hips involuntarily buck again as he hits something inside of me.

I grip the comforter and moan at the sensation.  “It feels so good, Graham” I say.  He does this for quite a while, his finger repeatedly hitting something deep inside of me that makes me cry out.  “Want to try another one?” he asks, his voice deep, low, and intensely focused, but I peek at his face and his expression is completely consumed with arousal and desire.  “God, yes,” I say, and I gasp as his index finger slides in easily next to his middle finger.  He pulls both fingers out, then back in, then out, then in again at a steady pace, which he increases slightly as my moans and gasps become louder and more frequent.  His fingers push just a little harder and my hips buck at the sensation when I feel the fingers on his left hand massage my center at the same time.  I arch my back and move my hips in rhythm with his hands; I know I’m losing myself.

I hear him breathing hard, panting, and moaning as his hands work over my body.  I flush deeply as I feel a second orgasm building up within me.  I somehow flush even deeper and moan loudly as I hear him moan and say – partly to himself and partly to me, his voice full of amazement – “you’re so fucking wet for me.  You feel so good.”  A warm sensation of pleasure rushes through me at his words.  “Graham,” I say, panting heavily and practically begging, “I’m so close.”  Suddenly, he pauses his movements entirely and I allow my back to fall onto the bed in frustration.  I groan loudly.  “What the fuck?” I practically shout, and he laughs as I run my hands over my face in mock annoyance.   

He reaches for the lubrication again, removes his fingers from me, and applies additional lubrication to his right hand and across my entrance.  “Ready?” he asks again, his tone slightly cocky, and I groaned yes in answer.  With excruciating and deliberate slowness, he inserts his middle finger into me, then his index finger, and finally his ring finger on his right hand is inside of me and I moan at the sensation of his touch.  He resumes massaging my center and moving his fingers in and out of me.  My body works in sync with his hands and the same desperate noises I made earlier return. 

“That feels so good, that feels so good, that feels so good,” I repeat as pleasure careens toward me.  My hips buck up, my thighs shake, and my brain sees static as pleasure engulfs my consciousness.  I continue to moan as his fingers work inside of me, easing me down from my orgasm, until he gently pulls his fingers from me one at a time and collapses his body weight on top of me as his mouth finds mine. 

“Graham, Graham, Graham,” I repeat over and over again between deep kisses.  He pauses our kissing for a moment, looks into my eyes and says, “open your mouth.”  He raises his right hand and brings his fingers to my mouth.  I grip his wrist and eagerly suck on his index, middle, and ring fingers, tasting and swallowing my own arousal and blood.  Small, quiet moans escape his throat as he watches my mouth and tongue move across his fingers.  Our eyes locked together, we don’t dare break eye contact as my mouth moves to suck on his thumb.  Moaning around his fingers, I finally release his thumb from my mouth with a pop and he shakes his head in bewilderment, stands up, quickly removes his jeans and boxers, and reaches for his box of condoms.  He’s fully naked now, aside from a thin silver chain around his neck.  We hold eye contact for several long moments as I watch him carefully unwrap and delicately roll on a condom.

He climbs back on top of me and holds me close to him for several moments.  He wraps me in his arms and buries his face into my neck before planting light kisses all across my jawline and chin.  I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.  I know that I never want to let him go.  We breathe together for several wonderful moments, our breathing synching together as our chests rise and fall.  He whispers my name and I glance up at him.  We kiss deeply and passionately for a few moments until he pauses, presses his forehead against mine, and asks again if I am ready.  I say yes.  A shuddering, unrestrained moan leaves his mouth as he slowly pushes himself into me and he breathes heavily into my neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, attempting to control himself.  “You feel so good.”

He kisses me, presses his forehead against mine again, and speeds up his movements, my hips working to match his rhythm.  Watching him fall apart because of my body was sheer ecstasy.  His breathing quickens, he moans tight in his throat, then moans louder and more frequently.  His eyes close in concentration and focus, his cheeks flush as his hands grip the comforter for support.  I roll my hips up into him again and I beg in a choked whisper, “more, Graham, more.  Deeper, please.”  He does, and he moans loudly as he finds a new speed and force that suits us both.  He's panting heavily now, moaning repeatedly, and I can tell he’s close.  It’s always amazing to me how well we find a rhythm together.  Breaths and moans exchange back and forth, I know I won’t have another orgasm, but being this close to him always makes me feel so unbelievably happy.  He loses himself entirely and can’t hold himself back: he pulls out and pushes back inside of me one, two, three times before his body shakes and he collapses onto me.

Time passes – although we’re hardly aware of it – and we lay together.  Our breaths slowing and our mouths softly kissing, we talk and whisper to each other for several wonderful, peaceful minutes.  He slowly pulls himself from me, stands up, and stretches.  He runs his hands through his unbelievably messy hair and I laugh at his expression.  His cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, his silver chain necklace is twisted and backwards on his neck, and his sweaty brown hair sticks up at odd angles. 

“What are you laughing at?” he asks.  He squints at me and sticks his tongue out.  “You don’t look much better.  Clean yourself up,” he jokes.  “You look like you just had sex.”  I laugh again.  He sees my eyes wander toward his bathroom door. 

“Wanna shower with me?” he asks, holding out his hand.  I bite my lip and smile, grab his hand, and he swiftly picks me up.  My arms slung over his broad shoulders and my legs wrapped around his slender waist, he won’t stop contorting his face into ridiculous and hilarious expressions.  I squirm with laughter but his strong arms hold me tight against him.  Happiness and laughter flood through our bodies as he walks us into his bathroom and gently sets me down on the counter.  He starts the shower and warm steam immediately fills the room and fogs the mirror.

“After you,” he motions, pulling his shower curtain back.  I hop off the counter, close his bathroom door, and pull him into the shower with me.  Soon, we’re laughing, playfully pushing against each other, and holding each other close as we lose ourselves completely.  Time always seems to stand still when I’m with Graham.  It’s perfection.

[stxrshxpxd]

“you taste so good”

pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

warnings: halloween fic. smut featuring blood!!!

word count: 2k

promt: damon and reader grew up together in the same small town. now they're in their twenties and have come back for a class reunion party, but something about damon is very different.

The moon stared back at me in threefold through the reflection in the window to my left. She was half full and a deep yellow hanging just above the horizon. Next to her was the vague outline of Damon’s body in dark colours. We were wandering down the street I used to walk every morning to get to school. It amazed me to think that I had felt just about every possible emotion of mine on this very street. The town was quiet tonight and even though almost every house was lit from inside all the light around us felt dim and couldn’t compete with the sheen of the moon.

“Don’t you think it’s cold?” I asked Damon to my right as he walked through the chilly October night in nothing but jeans and a loose long sleeve. I focused my gaze on the crescent of his face illuminated by the moonlight, and noticed, for a fragment of a second, that his right eye gleamed in a peculiar way. It was like a tiny flash that came and went within the space of my heartbeat. It puzzled me but Damon absently shook his head and shrugged.

“I’m okay.”

We kept passing spots where we had played and hung out as kids, but they all seemed strangely eerie now. I suppose that was to be expected though, walking through your hometown at night in the middle of autumn. But Damon was strangely eerie as well. I hadn’t seen him since we were nineteen and we were now pushing twenty-six. Naturally a person might change in that time span but I could’ve never expected Damon to grow up to be so quiet and sombre.

As we reached the end of the street, faint music began to crawl into our quiet space. Its source was the reason we had come back home; for a reunion party with a bunch of our old school mates. It seemed the party was already in full bloom and it was nearing midnight.

As we approached the house we entered a sphere of stronger light and I automatically turned to look at Damon again. I was insatiably amazed at his face having adulted considerably since I last saw him, his cheeks hollowed out slightly and his jaw and cheekbones more prominent. His hair was longer and darker and fell in stripy lines down his forehead, and there was a short but even stubble gracing the lower part of his pale face. The better half of our teen years I had had feelings for him on and off and it was all coming back to me quite quickly, despite it not really feeling like it was the same person walking beside me.

I went to speak but was interrupted by a loud shriek that made me inhale and swallow my sentence in a gasp. Turning my head to the front door I was met with another old friend; Tanya. Tightly gripping two wine glasses in her hands, she tiptoed out onto the driveway in just her socks, and emptied her chestful of excited giggles in my ear as she engulfed me in a tight hug.

“Y/N, it’s been a lifetime! Gosh!”

“A six year long lifetime!” I gushed along with her and she kept laughing and hopping around on the spot, trying to stay up on the balls of her feet.

“Why are you so late? What were you and Damon doing in the bushes?” Tanya taunted and I rolled my eyes with a smile as she gave Damon a big hug too. He hugged her back with one arm and gave her a calm smile.

“God, I didn’t think it was possible you’d get even more handsome. I had almost wished you’d go downhill after graduation,” Tanya sighed excessively with a stroke of his emaciated cheek. She flashed me a playful grin and wink and then dragged us both inside. I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy coming over me at the sight of her caressing his face, but soon it was suppressed when I met all the familiar faces inside.

I spent about half an hour just hugging people and telling the story of what I’m up to nowadays a hundred times over, as well as getting drinks shoved into my hands. They were going down easy and after my second tequila shot with old footballer dreamboat William Bailey, I had just spotted Damon again. He was standing on the other end of the room with a beer in his hand and looking straight at me. He didn’t appear especially fazed but I felt a strong, odd feeling of jealousy, and even possessiveness, coming off him. It felt like there was an invisible rope tightly wound between us across the room. I laughed gently at his grave expression and waved him over while filling another shot glass to the brim.

Damon somehow walked slowly but was at my side in less than a second. I ignored the weird feeling that had settled in my stomach and blamed it on the alcohol, as I forced the shot up to his lips and he allowed me to pour it down his throat. With not one bit of flinching he swallowed and looked down at me with a leering smirk and half-lidded eyes.

“I missed you a lot, Y/N,” he said nearly under his breath, yet I could hear it clearly over the loud music. The longer I stared into his oceanic eyes the less of the party I heard and saw, and the harder it became to look away. I thought for a second that peculiar gleam in his eyes was back but it had vanished again by the next time I blinked.

“I’ve missed you too,” I responded in a small voice.

He tucked a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear and let his hand linger by the side of my face. I wanted to lay my cheek in his palm and let him hold the weight of my head as I kept staring into his eyes, but I refrained. I wondered if there had been something funny in one of my drinks, as I felt like I was entering some sort of trance when Damon stepped closer to me. I asked myself if I was breathing still and had to force a deep inhale. Then I held my breath because Damon had closed his eyes and I couldn’t help but do the same as I felt his lips interlock with mine.

“Y/N,” his silky voice echoed in my head despite him not taking a second to disconnect from my lips. In fact he caught my bottom one between his teeth and bit hard, making me gasp and causing my insides to flutter. I was nearly pulled out of my trancelike state at the sudden pain and faint metallic taste spreading in my mouth, but then my name rolled off his tongue again.

“Mm,” I hummed, eyes still drunkenly closed and balance thrown off in the safety of his arms.

“Let’s get out of here,” Damon whispered in my ear and the whisper seemingly multiplied as it did laps around my brain. I soothingly sucked on my bruised bottom lip and nodded, opening my tired eyes to find his lustful ones.

He led me out of the party slowly, our hands interlocked between his back and my front. A short meander through the house later we were outside again and I didn’t say anything for a long while as he led me down the street. Crossing the lawn opposite the church, I realised where he was heading, and before I knew it he had pushed my back against a cold metal pole in the heart of the local playground. I couldn’t tell you how many times Damon and I had sat on the swings behind me in our teens, and how many times I had dreamed about him forcing his tongue into my mouth like he was doing now. It felt like I had lived half a life after getting out of our hometown and I thought I had gotten past everything that was here, but feeling Damon’s hands harshly kneading the flesh of my sides I felt about sixteen again.

Damon responded to my small moans with groans of his own as he pressed his body against mine and grinded his clothed semi into me. I threw a few anxious glances at the houses all around us to see if there was anyone watching us where we stood in the sea of light from the scattered streetlights. Quickly my attention was stolen by Damon again, him clamping my lower lip between his sharp teeth. He did it harder than I might’ve wished for but it got mixed up in my brain with the pleasure of his hand having found its way between my legs now, and I decided that I liked it.

As his lips moved on down to my neck the pain caught up with me and so did the taste of blood. I sucked on my wounded lip and swallowed my own blood, yet for some reason I was still moaning ecstatically. It was beginning to feel like I wasn’t controlling my own body. Another sharp pain exploded from my neck and spread through my body in an instant, but I heard myself beg for more before Damon had even pulled his teeth out of my raw skin. I thought his teeth looked sharper than normal, but then again my mind was a complete haze.

“You have such beautiful skin, Y/N,” he whispered hoarsely and glanced up at me with his gleaming eyes. No matter how many times I blinked they didn’t go back to normal now. And my blood rested on his lips and down his chin. His hand dug inside my trousers instead and his freezing fingers quickly resumed circling my hot wetness.

I couldn’t tell if the growing feeling in my stomach was me about to pass out, or throw up, or if I was reaching my orgasm. I forced my eyes open when I felt him grab my hand and kiss down my forearm towards my palm. A few sticky, deep red kisses later he sunk his teeth into my palm as well and my stomach turned. My core was on fire with the feeling of my high building and my hand and arm ached as Damon kissed my bleeding wound, lapping up my blood. I couldn’t take my eyes off him nursing my shaking hand, and then suddenly I couldn’t keep from screwing my eyes shut when my high flooded my body. Shaking and whimpering, I began to feel lightheaded and the tiny stars that I had seen on the insides of my eyelids faded quickly. Everything turned black and I felt like I deflated, and all I could hear was Damon’s low voice.

“You taste so good.”

[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

[ssupersonicc]

bee’s masterlist 🐝

♡ ao3 | ♡ my other blog

♡ please note: most of my fics are nsfw, so please read with caution.

♡ asks are open for nsfw blurbs like those linked below! :)

* - indicates sexual content

♡ Graham Coxon —

please, dear -

gra fingers dear y/n in front of a mirror to show her how utterly delectable she looks when she cums. *

thunder in your ear -

gra decides to tease y/n underneath the table cloth, though she soon has him whimpering with his cock in her hand - just hoping none of their friends get an inkling as to what they’re up to. *

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

♡ Liam Gallagher —

highly commendable -

liam has y/n begging him to use his mouth on her, though he can’t resist teasing the poor birdie. *

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

♡ Damon Albarn —

like a virgin -

damon has y/n on his lap to tell him what she wants him to do to her — though she’s far more clueless than he had expected. he’s willing to change that. *

sometimes -

poor damon can’t help but to settle between y/n’s thighs — so eager to please her with his mouth. *

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[stopeatingwhales]

football hysteria x damon albarn

I LOVED THIS SM LMAO !!!!!!!! football obsessed damon is so cute

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 2.281

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

"Who you supporting?" Graham asked me, handing me a beer as he sat himself beside me on the couch next to me in the middle, Damon sat on the opposing side. Damon had dragged me over to Graham's house to watch the Man City and Chelsea game tonight, and knowing just how competitive Damon came to football, I knew it was better that I simply went along with things rather than moan about how much I really didn't want to spend two hours watching two teams pass around a ball for entertainment.

"Erm, Man City." I replied, quickly flicking the can open to taste the bittersweet barley flavouring of the heineken beer as it embellished the walls of my mouth.

"You don't support Chelsea?" Damon questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

A small chuckle left my mouth. “Of course I don't, they're shit." I sneered, aware of the havoc that my statement was going to cause. Immediately, Damon's mouth fell agape; stunned by my malevolence, as well as partial shock from the new-found information surrounding my opinions on football.

Graham's laughter rang through the room and my ears as my eyes continued to burn into Damon's piercing gaze, him just as amused as I was. Nobody was as big a football fan as Damon had become. "They're anything but shit," he continued, eyebrows now raised as he scoffed. "You're telling me that you support Man City? Gallagher-brother-Man-City?"

"Okay I'm going to sit between you both,'' Graham announced, swiftly standing up, shoving my body to the side he had just accompanied, placing his body between me and Damon, a blockade to prevent either of us going at each other's throats. "Just so we can all be alive by the end of it."

“Well I wouldn't have fucking invited her over if I knew she supported those manic twats, Graham."

"Piss right off Damon, we're in Graham's flat, not yours." I bit back, completely unphased by his childlike behaviour. It had been made quite apparent to the media that Chelsea were indeed the band dominated by the south, as well as Blur, and Man City were celebrated in the north by Oasis. However, it was quite comical noticing the immediate flush of anger that filled Damon's face after my sly comment. Leaning back into the loveseat, my back adorned the soft feel of the cushion behind me. "Graham, who do you support?" I asked, curiosity laced in my words as the football pitch came into view on the television screen - initiating the beginning of the match.

My eyes were focused on Graham as I watched him toss his glasses onto the coffee table in front of us, which had been cascading with countless bags of crisps and other treats to keep us stuffed as the ninety-minute match played through. "In all honesty, I'm not that phased with football," he began, reaching over to open a bag of crisps. "It's Damon here who's completely obsessed with it."

As the match began, tensions were already built to a high degree between the three of us. Small but meaningless comments had been thrown into the atmosphere of the apartment, merely portraying our silliness and how neither of us had seemingly outgrown the competitive side of our personalities, something that would be more apparent during teenage years. Unfortunately however, very early into the game, Damon's supporting team had decided to skillfully snatch the ball from one of the players, eventually managing to get it into the goal - portraying the first goal scored subsequent to the game's start.

Damon instantaneously rose at the goal, shouting loud enough for the neighbours to hear every single word that rumbled out of his throat. "Told you we were bett-" he said, smugness intertwined between his words so effortlessly, though shamefully his words had been cut off by the sound of the cushion, once placed behind me, now hitting his face. I couldn't help but allow a tiny smirk to illustrate itself on my facial features as I admired his face dripping in absolute bewilderment towards my actions. “What the fuck was that for?” he scoffed, falling back into his side of the sofa, as I sustained the grin on my face, watching him. The atmosphere that was once overflowing with hostility was now completely serenaded with Damon's egocentric giggles, forcing my body to hunch into a sulk at how quickly my team had been warranting for a loss so early into the match.

Mid-way through the game, Graham had decided to go to the corner shop by his apartment to get more beers for us to share, due to us having run out to share between the three of us. I dreaded being alone in the room with the game ongoing with Damon present, full-well knowing that his upbeat jolliness would attempt to torment me upon the fact that he was winning, which, to my demise, was exactly what had occured. The air fell still in the room once the sound of the door slamming etched through the flat walls, my gaze focused entirely on the match following on the screen, attempting to focus my mind on anything but the room that I was currently occupied in - though my peripheral noticed Damon's head almost instantly turned to look in my direction once it was made evident that Graham wasn’t inside the flat anymore. As if reading my mind, he decided to shift his body weight, which was once adorned to the other armrest of the burgundy couch, right next to me, where he attempted to wrap his arm around my shoulders, warming me into an embrace. In spite of this, I could feel his intense stare on my features. Using all my strength to avoid connecting eyes with him, I wasn’t going to admit defeat so easily, my stubbornness proving a point.

Once Damon realised, he carried on watching the game, however his body had continued it's embrace with mine. At one point, I was thinking that the match was going to be a lost cause from the performance shown by Chelsea, However, things began to turn around, and Man City managed to score a goal, to Damon's consternation. The sudden win resulted in me lunging from my seat, swiftly detaching myself from Damon, my whole body cheering towards the goal as it replayed on the screen. What was amusing was that, after I had finished my applause, I noticed that Damon had moved back into his seat by the side of the couch, distancing himself from me. "Aw, you don't want to sit with me anymore?" I sarcastically questioned, not waiting for an answer as a small smile crept on my lips. It was very amusing, pissing Damon off. I must say, watching his ego deflate into nothing but a simple sulk at the corner of a room was really the sight.

"What did I miss?" The sound of graham's voice sounded through the room, paired with the clank of multiple beer bottles as he reached into the plastic carrier bag to place them on the table. Each and every one had an individual water-streak pattern, indicating that they had just been chilled - when they taste best.

"Man City scored!" I exclaimed, reaching out for one of the glass bottles as I got the bottle opener to unfasten it from its metal clasp, promptly taking a swig from the beverage. The intent was, of course, to provide Graham with the extra knowledge upon the events that occurred during the match whilst he was absent, however knowing myself, I had also wanted to remind Damon of said occurrences, to surge him to the edge of his frustration. Exclaiming it at the top of my lungs held just enough power to do just that.

A chuckle immediately left Graham's mouth from my enthusiasm. "Need me to sit between you both again?" He jokingly asked, yet an element of seriousness was laced between his words.

“Depends if Damon's gonna stop sulking or not.” I replied, focusing my view on the game playing on the screen.

"You're the one who was fucking throwing the cushions!" Damon shouted, reaching over to grab himself a beer.

"Because you were pissing me off!" I answered, shifting my gaze onto Damon, who was, to my surprise, staring directly at me. There was a certain look of annoyance glazed on his features, though the agitation seemed to subside as soon as we locked stares, as if he was longing for my eyes to bear their sight toward him, as if it was an examination, an analysation to confirm whether we were still on good terms or not; of course we were, while conflicting preferences drew evident tears between us during that moment in particular. After a few seconds had passed, Damon leaned back into the cushion, carrying on watching the game unfold, satisfied with his response from my eyes. Switching my gaze over to Graham, I took notice of a look of question illustrated on his features, to which I decided to mime that it was alright, in order to move myself next to Damon once again. It would've been a lie, and a mere understatement, to say that I hadn't missed his arms around me.

Bunching up next to him, enough space was made to allow graham to sit himself down next to me, though that thought was the last passing my mind; my body was shivering from nervousness, the close proximity between us, regardless of our romantic acquaintance, never failed to bloom butterflies at the pit of my stomach. Due to my body's weight pressing down onto the cushion next to him, it was obvious that he was aware that I moved to sit next to him - but at a cause of his stubbornness, him averting all his attention onto me, admiring me as if I was the only living being in the apartment, a home that hadn't even belonged to me, would never happen - it would take much more to result in his feign of irritation to melt away. Placing my arm around his shoulder, I granted my hand to reach up to his beautiful head of hair, my fingers caressing his strands gently as I brushed any parts that were sticking out on the sides of his head. His arms were wrapped around one another, like a child encompassed in an angry stupor at their parent due to them not allowing them a packet of sweets from the grocery store, though I was playing at his heartstrings, aware of just how much he adored me playing with his dirty blonde locks.

For a short sum of time, we both sat there, my hands never halting their actions. The next few minutes of the game played out of continuous dribbling and passing to other teammates, oftentimes resulting in the other team taking hold of the ball and running around with it for a while until their attempt to score. Randomly, Damon's arm had released itself from its shared embrace with the other, engulfing my body with his as he encased his left arm around my shoulders. We were in a sense of comfort with one another, though from Damon's avoidance of my stare it was made obvious that he was still in the least carrying a small element of annoyance, nevertheless, as I allowed my eyes to linger onto his delicate, paradisiacal features, holding back a grin was seen much easier said than done, a small curvature sneaking itself on his lips.

"Look who's won." Graham mumbled, his voice detaching me out of my trance that I was enamoured in.

A laugh rang itself out of my throat as I admired the lengthy team cheering as they enveloped one another in a massive embrace. "Told you they were better!" I grinned as I diverted my gaze onto Damon, the same look of frustration painted on his demeanour, still avoiding his eyes on me. "You want a kiss?" I asked, tilting my head in order to make sure I was the main thing in his sight, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep up his facade so easily. "Kiss kiss?"

I continued until his eyes met mine. It was as if, for a short segment of time we were frozen in place, momentary seconds passing of us merely marvelling at the view illustrated forth one another, my hands snaking their way around his neck as I leaned in slightly, noticing his blue orbs fall onto my lips, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his mind wandered through fields of appraisal. It was then where I couldn’t hold resistance for any longer, and I doubted that Damon could, bringing my head forward as I let my lips latch onto his, allowing time to flow as they lingered still before he kissed me back with gentle force, enough to notify me of his desire that encompassed him just as much as me. The kiss held innocence, portrayed adoration in its true beauty, nevertheless, also embodying eagerness, a yearning of lust.

"I'm going to be honest," I mumbled, removing my lips away from his, panting as I attempted to recollect my breath. "I don't actually support Man City."

"Of course you fucking don't." Damon laughed, our lips connecting once again as he perched his head forward, intoxicating me with the very thing that I desired most in that significant moment.

"If you're gonna shag, please go home." Graham groaned, causing our bodies to jolt at the sudden awareness that we weren’t alone together. Pulling away instantly, a wave of embarrassment covered my cheeks as we looked at one another, infatuation the single thing flowing out of our eyes.

“Sorry Graham.”

[damonfuckingalbarn]

if you write sub graham i will forever be indebted to you aaaa

Thank you for your request, it took my a while but I really hope I’ve done an alright job. I remember reading/watching something where Damon says something along the lines of Graham likes to be dominated. I might have made this up but I’m so sure something along those lines happened. Anyway, that’s what’s being referenced in the beginning.

I’m also not the best with the whole Dom/sub thing but I tried my best!!

“Good Boy” - 90s Graham x Reader

Pairing- 90s Gra x Reader

Words- 2,239

Warnings- Smut smut smutty smut smut is all I have to say really.

Requests are open, rules for requests are here :)

“Is it true?” The words fell out of your mouth before you could even greet him properly, he laughed lightly, quickly frowning before raising an eyebrow questionably.

“Good evening to you too darling” He grinned, placing a kiss on your cheek before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace “Is what true?”

“What Damon said today, on that interview, is it true Gra?” You pressed, a slight devilish glint in your eyes as you waited for his response. A part of you, a rather big part, wanted it to be true so desperately.

“Damon said lots of things today, I’m gonna need a bit more detail sweetheart” He laughed softly, but your ear against his chest heard his heartbeat fasten, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Graham” You warned, pulling away from his chest to cast your eyes over his face, your eyebrows raising at his pouty lips “Damon mentioned a certain something you like in bed”.

You couldn’t help the smirk which appeared over your lips as you watched his face turn instantly red, his gaze dropping from yours as he started to shift his feet. You reached forward, putting your fingertips under his chin as you used them to readjust his head so that you were gazing into each others eyes.

“Well?” You prompted, your fingertips applying just a little bit of pressure into his chin as you waited impatiently for his answer.

“It’s erm, it’s just Damon being a prat” He stuttered out, his eyes darting everywhere so that he wasn’t looking at you. The humour of the situation making the corners of your lips turning upwards. He was always such a bad liar.

“Graham” You warned, raising your eyebrows and relishing in the blush that crept up on his cheeks. You stretched up so that your mouth was resting next to his face, your breath hot on his ear “You wouldn’t like it if I did whatever I pleased with you, came on your cock again and again whilst you beg me to let you orgasm?”

He swallowed hard as his mouth involuntarily dropped open, a bewildered look of shock on his face as he nodded his head slowly. Any words he tried to get out dying in the back of his throat.

“Thought so” You laughed as you took hold of his hand, interlocking your fingers before pulling him behind you into the bedroom.

You pushed him onto the bed, immediately climbing on top of him as your lips connected together desperately. You kept your head just slightly away from his, enough to make him have to stretch up to keep your lips together. He snaked his hands under your top, roaming them along your back until he reached your breasts, his hands immediately dipping into your bra. As much as you were enjoying his hands on you, you had to shake the feeling off. This wasn’t what you were doing tonight.

“No touching unless I say” You breathed, reaching to his hands and wrapping your hands around his wrists, harshly pulling them away from you. His breathing hitched in the back of his throat as he looked up at you with wide eyes, giving you a feeble nod of his head.

“Good boy” You muttered, sitting back so that you were directly on his crotch, your legs either side of his hips. You tipped your head back slightly as you pulled your top over your head, before quickly disposing of your bra too.

You caught Graham’s eye as you ran a hand through your hair, he looked awestruck, his cheeks flushed red as his eyes roamed over your body, you could feel him hardening beneath you which dispelled any worries you had about him not enjoying this. You could tell he was desperate to reach up and touch you, instead, he had grabbed fistfuls of the duvet, so eager to please you and do as you say.

You reached down and unbuttoned his shirt, a finger lazily trailing along his newly exposed chest. You pushed the material open, so that he was completely exposed to you, before dropping your head down and gently nipping at his skin. Letting your tongue swirl around the skin in your mouth as you sucked on it eagerly, desperate to leave as many hickeys as you could all over his body. You left a trail of kisses to his mouth, before connecting your lips together again as you let your boobs press into his chest. You felt him buck his hips ever so slightly beneath you, desperate for any kind of friction on his trapped erection.

“Don’t do that Gra” You tutted as you pulled away from the kiss, your eyes staring intently into his “You wouldn’t want to get into trouble now, would you?”

He shook his head but it was enough for you to pull away completely as you sat back down on his groin, your hips circling lightly just to tease him.

“Use your words” You prompted, his eyes had fluttered closed at the sensation of your grinding on his still clothed dick “Graham”

“I’ll be good” He stuttered out, his eyes looking hopefully up at yours “I’ll do whatever you say”

You hummed in approval as you climbed off of his lap, silently removing his jeans before stripping yourself of your remaining clothes, making sure his eyes followed every move you made in revealing your body to him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” He whispered, causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. You dropped your head in the hope he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of it, but you could tell by the small smile on his lips that he knew what effect his words had on you.

You moved across so you were sat down next to him, a hand gently trailing along this thighs and hips, close enough to his erection to make him squirm, but too far to give him any sense of relief.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, your roaming hand travelling just that bit closer to where you knew he wanted it to be.

A feeble moan fell out of his lips in place of any words, causing you to raise your eyebrows impatiently at him. He swallowed hard before closing his eyes and breathing deeply, desperate to try and compose himself.

“I want, I want you to” He stumbled out, his words collapsing into a moan when you gently squeezed his balls.

“Hm?” You prompted, your eyebrows raised as you started to trace around his cock.

“Want you to sit on my face, wanna make you cum” You hummed at his words, a burning pit in your stomach having been ignited. You let your eyes roam over him again, never had you ever seen him come undone and fall apart this easily before.

You trailed your lips along his body, leaving more hickeys in your wake, before briefly pressing your lips against his. Upon pulling away you quickly readjusted your legs so that they were either side of his face and you were straddling him.

You let out a shaky breath as his lips connected with your core, he wasted no time in pleasuring you like his life depended on it. You kept yourself upright so that your entire weight wasn’t resting on his face, a part of your mind worried that you’d hurt him, but he reached up and wrapped an arm around each of your thighs, pulling you as close as possible to him. His arms held you in place as he desperately swirled his tongue around, his nose brushing against your clit.

You let a moan of his name fall out of your lips as any previous ideas of making sure you were in control fell away. It was difficult to tell him what to do when he had such a natural talent of pleasuring you.

“Fuck Gra, you’re doing such a good job” You praised, you could feel the smile appear over his lips, your words giving him another surge of energy.

You could feel the coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you reached down to grab fistfuls of his hair, pulling on the strands to try and keep yourself upright. A throaty moan fell out of his mouth and travelled sensually through your core.

“I’m really close” You whispered, he tilted his head back so that he could focus on your clit. Lovingly swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, which made your head start to spin, though his teeth grazing across is what sent you over the edge. Your grip on his hair tightened, your legs squeezing together and trapping his head between them as you came with a loud repetitive moan of his name.

You took a couple of minutes to control your breathing before moving yourself away from his face and readjusting yourself so that you were lying directly on top of him. Your hips naturally grinding on his, painfully hard, cock.

You reached forward to connect your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue as he let you explore his mouth. Your teeth clashing as the lust started to take over both of your bodies, any romantics being long forgotten as a desire for release travelled through his body.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You whispered in his ear, your lips dropping down to leave a hickey on his neck before you prompted a response from him “I’m waiting Graham”

“Yes” He suddenly announced, his breathing fastening as his face flushed a shade of pink again “Please”

“Yes?” You repeated questioningly, an eyebrow raised as you watched him squirm beneath you, nodding his head to agree with you “That’s not enough, wanna hear you beg”

“Really?” He asked breathlessly, propping himself up on his elbows as he frowned at you.

“Hm really” You responded sharply, a hand trailing down his body to lightly trail across his cock, you barely touched him but it was enough for a moan to stumble out of his lips “It doesn’t bother me, I’ve already had an orgasm, I could quite happily roll over and go to sleep, leaving you desperate to cum”

“No no no” He stuttered out, the idea of me suddenly leaving him high and dry seeming to terrify him “I wanna fuck you, god darling you’re killing me, please let me, I want to feel you around me and I’m gonna make you cum again, please y/n”

“Good boy” You whispered, pushing him back down onto the bed before climbing on top of him, readjusting your hips so that his tip was at your entrance, you wasted no time in sinking down on him. The moan escaping Graham’s mouth being almost enough to send you over the edge again.

You leaned forward so that your boobs hung above Graham’s face, his breath hot on your sensitive skin as he panted beneath you. You let your hips do the work, bouncing up and down on his dick as a series of moans fell out of your lips.

You closed your eyes briefly, squeezing them shut when he unexpectedly took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it before gently grazing his teeth on the sensitive area.

“You’re so good Gra” You moaned, the pleasure had started to slow you down and make your head spin which meant that the movements of your hips were long forgotten as you lost yourself in the sensations Graham was inflicting on you.

“Want you to fuck me” You told him breathlessly. He laughed lightly at your words, nodding his head eagerly as he slipped his hands behind your shoulder blades, holding you close to his chest before flipping you both over. So that you were on all fours and he had positioned himself behind you, his dick hitting you from a different angle almost causing your elbows to give way.

The speed of his thrusts and his hands aimlessly clawing along your back told me that he was close, desperately close. You wanted nothing more than to make him hold on, not let him finish until you said so but it was your first time having sex in this dynamic and he had already been so good so you just couldn’t bring yourself to make him hold on.

“I’m really, god really close” He warned, You nodded your head as you moaned in agreement, his new speed was hitting you in all the right spots and you knew you were dangerously close to falling over the edge.

“Cum with me Gra” You encouraged, a shaky hand reaching to rub your clit as he started on an inhumane speed.

He came with a loud moan of your name, which was enough to sent you over the edge. Your walls squeezing around his cock as it twitched inside of you. Your body shook with pleasure as you felt your second orgasm rush through you.

He placed a tender kiss in between your shoulder blades before pulling out, quickly grabbing a tissue to gently wipe any cum falling out of you.

“Thank you” He mumbled as he climbed under the duvet.

“Thank you?” You questioned, a frown on your face as you joined him under the blanket.

“I was so worried that Damon had fucked everything up and that you’d think I was a right freak but it was absolutely, you’re absolutely perfect”

[spunkpunx]

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

[merrumeru]

You're driving me crazy when you are coming home, part 1

Pairing : Damon Albarn x Reader 90s!

Words : 4k

TW: toxic relationship, cheating, swear words, mention of sex

Note : I just want to make it clear that glorifying a toxic relationship is not my goal. These types of relationships are very harmful. The presented story is a purely fictional situation. However, if you ever find yourself in such a relationship, please think about what's best FOR YOU. Nobody has the right to criticize, frighten and manipulate you emotionally, especially not the person who "loves" you. Take care xoxo

Part 2

september 1994

I turned the key in the lock. When I entered the apartment, I expected it to be dark, after all, it must have been much after 11 pm. I used to come home early, but today the restaurant where I work had a lot of guests. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the light coming from the living room. The first thought that came to my mind is, of course, a break-in. However, two seconds was enough for me to realize that it was something much worse. In silence, I took off my shoes and coat and put my purse on the shelf next to the door.

„You could at least take your shoes off. I cleaned the apartment this morning.” My gaze lingered on a pair of soiled vans, which soles rested on the coffee table. A mixture of anger and fatigue was sprouting somewhere inside me.

„Y/N, I didn't hear you come in” he put down one of my women's magazine which he was reading or pretending to read.

„Unfortunately, I knew it was you as soon as I entered. Why are you here?” My question evidently amused him, as his goofy, stupid smile appeared on his face.Even though he knew I didn't want to play his games, he took his time to answer. As usual, he didn't take me seriously.

„I thought my girlfriend would be more pleased to see me” He leaned forward slightly, looking straight into my eyes. „You look pretty”.

„Fuck off Damon” My gaze drifted from his eyes to some point on the carpet. I didn't know what I wanted to say. Maybe it was the fatigue. Or maybe the helplessness that was removing the ground from under my feet again. The silence was unbearable, and even the lazy ticking of the clock from the kitchen could not disturb the hopelessness. „Just go out. I don't feel like talking to you.”

He didn't even move. My words made no impression on him. Maybe because it's not the first time? No one who knew us could say we were a good couple. A couple ... because he wanted it so, because he introduced us that way. We have been together for two years, but apart. Our lives take a completely different course. When he's on tour again, I'm alone here with my own life. Then he comes back, for a few days, for a week, to disappear again for months. Turns my whole, simple life upside down. The complete mismatch of our characters ignites argues for whatever reason that only end in two possible ways: silence or passion. And most likely it is this passion that keeps our entire relationship going.

„Oh c’mon Y/N don’t be mad. Love…” However, this time I was fed up. „We haven't seen each other for a month, I want you-„

„No. I want you to leave. We may not have seen each other for three weeks, not a month. After all, you've been in town for a week.” A smile slowly faded from his face. I looked at his pursed lips and now narrowed eyes. „I was on the phone with Graham. It's funny that we were both surprised to find you weren't where you supposed to be!”

„I’m gonna kill him. Fuck.” Damon got up and started walking towards me. „For what? For lying to him and me? Why are you making fools of all of us?”

„It's not what you think…” We were now millimeters apart. I could feel his heavy breathing and the smell of cigarettes. It was the same Damon. In the same sweater, with a small hole next to the collar, that I bought him for Christmas, in the same hairstyle, though his hair was a little longer than last time ... The same tired eyes that were looking for mine now. I felt his hand touch mine uncertainly. I felt his hand touch mine uncertainly. „Look at me. I apologize, a few things stopped me…”

„Stopped you from what? From going home for the night? From calling me? Oh thank Lord, you finally found your way home! Needed a map? Compass?” A wave of anger has taken over my mouth completely. „It's good that you've found shelter in the beds of your female fans.” I took my hand out of his grip and without a word, I passed him over to sit on the sofa. My legs were like cotton wool. We had argued many times, but I'd never said it to his face before. I knew he was cheating on me. After all, our relationship was never serious. I didn't call him my boyfriend, we just slept together and we'd have fun. He was the one who babbled everywhere that I was his girlfriend. He got angry when other men appeared around me. But he himself gave me a million reasons to be jealous. I looked at his back. Why couldn't we be one of those couples, where I would now hugging him from behind, covering his eyes and asking "Guess who”. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

„If you didn't want me to come back… why didn't you tell me to return the keys?” Slowly my thoughts wandered away. At first I didn't even understand what he was saying to me. „Why is there a beer in the fridge that I like even though you hate it. Why... even now you're wearing my t-shirt?” The way he emphasized "mine" made me clench my jaw tighter. „ Just admit you're addicted to me. „You can't ... or rather you don’t want me to disappear from your life… Y/N”

The confidence that radiated from his voice made me sick. I stood up and picked up the magazine that Damon had been looking through earlier and threw it in his direction. It hit the wall with a dull bang. „You make me sick. Think about what you say. For months, all we have been doing is arguing. Do you remember the last time you left without arguing? Because I don't. I'm sick of it…” Our eyes met, but the feeling of regret and shame again made my gaze fixate on some distant point. I felt my heart pounding at dizzying speed „ It's over.”

If the words had a weight, mine would weigh several tons. I wanted to be alone so that the world could collapse on me in complete silence and solitude.

„C’mon love… it's just another stupid argument. I know that's not what you want.” His voice hesitated slightly at the last words. „Y/N look at me”. But I didn’t. I could feel his gaze on me watching my every move. He repeated, this time louder and even more firmly. When there was no answer this time, I felt his hands suddenly tighten on my wrists. With all his anger, he was standing next to me again. His mouth crushed mine. The force with which he pressed against me made me sway and I fell onto the sofa. But Damon didn't break the kiss for a moment. My fingers lightly tightened on his back. I knew he loved me, but just knowing couldn't make me happy.

His hands slipped under my shirt lifted it slightly, revealing my stomach. He kissed me as if he wanted to sink into me, to enter my heart again. He didn't have to, because despite my words, he still had a place in.

„You making me so miserable Damon” I turned my head to the side so that his lips were against my cheek, then slowly moved towards my neck. But he said nothing. His kiss was coming lower and lower. I felt like they were burning my skin through the fabric of my shirt. He placed the last two kisses on my exposed tummy.

„You hurting me by saying such things. You know I'm trying.” With a hollow sigh, Damon rose to meet my eyes.”You know it's not like I don't care about you. You are damn important to me, I don't want you to disappear from my life."

His hand touched my face as he gently caress my cheek with his thumb. Our lips met again, but this time they only brushed each other. I felt his whole weight fall on me, how his head rests calmly on my chest and his hands gently wrap around my waist. We were surrounded by silence. I could smell his shampoo mixed with the smell of cigarettes. Uncertainly, my hand went towards his hair. I stroked them gently. I couldn't understand if it was his weight that was causing me pain or my own heart, which was breaking into millions of piecesWhy couldn't life be much easier for us?

„Do you mind if I smoke?” Damon whispered as he twisted his head so that it rested between the space of my breasts. „This time, I'll let you. But take the ashtray from the kitchen and open the window.” He released me from my tight grip and slowly stands up from the couch. I followed his every move with my eyes.

When he turned to face me as he lit a cigarette, I noticed that the glow that had been in them a moment before had disappeared from his eyes. He puffed the smoke slowly out of his mouth and sat back down on the couch. This time, however, at the opposite end.

He had a beautiful face profile. He looked like a teenager with no bad thoughts in his head. Innocently. That was the perfect word. But something was missing. As if someone had put out the candle and all the glow had vanished into the darkness. I got closer to him, I wanted to stick to him and never let him go. Without a word, Damon pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head a few times. „I love you.” I whispered closing my eyes. He didn't answer right away, just finished smoking without haste.

„I love you too.”

There were no more words that needed to be spoken. We sat in this position for a long time. Sometimes Damon placed a kiss on my head or my hand. He gently stroked my shoulder.

"I should go. You are probably very tired" I nodded my head. I quickly raised his hand, which had been holding mine tightly for a long moment, and kissed it. He looked surprised but smiled slightly.

"I'll walk you to the door." Still holding hands, we walked to the door. Damon put on his jacket and stood with his hands in pockets. I tried to smile but all my facial muscles froze in a grimace. "You should start wearing a warmer jacket. The nights are pretty chilly..." He didn't answer anything but nodded. I wanted to say something else, say that he should stay... This was where his home was supposed to be. However, it would be a lie to say that it would have future.

Damon hugged me and kissed me one last time. His hand found mine, and I felt him place something cold in my palm. I clenched the small object in my hand. And then Damon left.

I stood staring at the closed door. I felt as if I was not in my own apartment, but in some distant, strange place. I tried to collect my thoughts, but the excess of masked emotions started to give me a headache. I looked at my hand and found that what he pressed into my hand was a key. Key to my apartment. So it was goodbye.

february 1995

The days passed without much meaning. I got up, went to work, came back, ate, went to sleep. I locked myself in a kind of bubble that I didn't want to get out of because it was too painful for me. I never thought it would hurt me so much, something that a year ago I associated only with fun and nothing deeper. No feelings.

Snow was falling outside the window. I was sitting in an armchair drinking some leftover alcohol that I found in the refrigerator. it was my way to escape.I didn't watch TV, I didn't read the newspapers. Damon's popularity was huge. I had the impression that in every newspaper there was at least one picture of him or band. The sound of the phone pulled me out of my dullness. I frowned because I didn't expect anyone to call me. I got up heavily from my seat and went to the phone.

"Yes?" For a moment, no one spoke. "Y/N? Wha's up?" I couldn't find whose voice it was. But suddenly something clicked in my head.

"Graham. Has something bad happened?"

"Something bad? Noooo. Why did you think so?" I felt he was a little nervous. " I just called to see how you are doing. You know, because of it all ... somehow we haven't had a chance to talk."

"Uhm... I'm doing great. I guess." I wanted him to leave me alone. "What about you? Are you back from the tour? It all worked out? Or maybe it's a bad question. I can see that everything went fine, all the media are talking about you."

"Yeah, that's a bit crazy." He paused for a moment "But you know, Damon's not doing so great."

This was the reason he called. I fiddled nervously with the phone cable. I bit my lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Damon ... is somehow absent. As if he wasn't having a good time at all. You know, as if all the energy was coming out of him. He's still a jester on stage, but it is very difficult to talk to him privately.Maybe you could finally pick up the phone from him?"

"No. This is not a good idea. We have completed this chapter. It takes time here, Damon has a good heart and a lot of love to offer. In time those bad emotions will pass and he will be his old self again. He will start new realtionship." The last words almost stuck in my throat. I never thought about it before. He spends time with other girls but always comes back to me. But now it's all over. "Entering back into our "pact" would be a toxic situation again.

"Have you ever thought that this could be a real relationship and not just a "pact"?"

"Graham, no, come on. Don't get me into this again. I made my decision."

"However, you don't sound happy at all."

"Maybe I also need some time. God. Why are you calling and making it even harder for me."

"Because I think you're quite selfish. You made your own decision. You didn't talk..."

"From what I can remember, I wasn't with you, but with Damon. You don't know the situation, so you have no right to tell me such things.I wonder how you would feel in my place." I fel anger rising inside me. "Anything else you want to say? If not, I hang up."

"Wait! I didn't want to... Fuck, I'm sorry. I just want to say that it was better then, when we all got in touch and everything." And I felt the same. " Y/N, Maybe we'll have a beer sometime. Of course, I am not forcing you to meet with boys. I'm just a little worried about Damon and you. Plus I really like you and I don't want to lose touch."

"I understand. Sure. I promise to pick up calls from you"

"I feel honored" we chuckled and I hang up.

november 1995

Fall has come again, or even it was almost winter. The days were gloomy and rainy, but I slowly regained my inner peace. It's been a year since I last saw Damon face to face. He called me many times, but I wasn't in the mood to talk. I knew once I picked up the phone I would never cut that toxic bond. Now was the time to get back to social life...

My colleague from work invited me to a party at her friends' house. I didn't know anyone but her, so I hesitated for a long time whether to accept the invitation. However, when another lonely friday came, I decided not to lose another day of my youth.

I found a nice dress in the wardrobe, did a little make-up and straightened my hair. I looked fine. I ordered a taxi for 9 pm and went first to my friend's house, and then straight to the party together. When I heard loud music as I got out of the car, I suddenly felt like going in is a mistake.

"Y/N c'mon i'm freezing!" I was grabbed by the hand and led inside. The house was crowded. In a way that made me feel uncomfortable. "Stay close to me. I won't leave you alone in a place where you don't know anyone. I will introduce you to a few people."

I relaxed a little. Alcohol and my friend's energy helped a lot. However, it was difficult to be close to her with so many people joining or leaving the conversation. So after a while I noticed that she was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. But this did not bother me. The alcohol level in my blood meant that I would no longer be reluctant to talk to anyone.

I decided to get another beer from the kitchen. I pushed my way through the crowd of people. Before I entered the kitchen, my eyes turned to the corner of the hall where some couple talk... too intensely.

My heart skipped a beat. It was Damon with some girl I didn't know.In my soul, I prayed that he would not notice me. I wanted to take my jacket and leave this house as soon as possible. But it was too late. He grabbed the girl's hand to apparently take her somewhere else. When he turned around, our eyes met.

I was standing with a stupid empty beer bottle and I didn't know what to do in this situation. I had not even thought that I would be in this situation. I noticed how my name coming out voicelessly from his mouth. Nothing good could come out of this meeting.

I quickly turned around to blend in with the crowd and then calmly walk out. I decided to go up the stairs and find a quiet place somewhere. I didn't even think about entering any of the rooms, probably some couples had already closed there. I sat down on the floor and leaned against the railing. I took a cigarette from my purse and lit it.

"Since when do you smoke?" It was him. I knew he would find me wherever I went. I even dared to think that if I did manage to leave, he would knock on my door sooner or later. I did not answer, but I shook the ashes into the bottle, which, for some reason I was still holding in my hand.

"It happens"

"It doesn't suit you."

"It's just your opinion." However, I threw the rest of my cigarette into the bottle and set it aside. "Why were you looking for me. You looked busy."

"It's nothing. I've called you so many times. Why didn't you pick up?" I still didn't look in his direction, but I felt his eyes piercing me. "I called and called and called. I've even been to your apartment a few times..."

"I know I saw you through the window." I got up. "Damon, what do you expect from me? I thought we had told each other everything." I heard his stupid mocking laugh. "We told everything? I don't remember talking much then." However I remember you broke up with me at first and then you said you love me. So you give me hope"

"You gave the key back! Was that the final end? And now? You were with some girl! You don't think about me, you just think you have a right to me. You act like I'm your property!" I didn't feel like arguing, but he gave me no other choice. "If you loved me you would let me go peacefully and wouldn't play with my feelings"

"How the fuck would I let you go when I'm in love with you! You contradict yourself." This was the first time I heard such aggression in his voice. Usually, when we argued, his words were painful, but their tone was completely indifferent.

"If you love me, why do you share this love with all the women around?" I wanted to cry, but I couldn't give him this satisfaction and show that it still hurts me that our "relationship" is a thing of the past.

"You agreed to it. You said it didn't bother you." He frowned and walked a few steps towards me.

"What else could I say? You would do it anyway." Damon lowered his head and put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't want you to feel like this. You always looked happy when we met. I should have noticed that something is wrong..."

"You are cunt... But I WAS happy. We had an amazing bond, I've never felt anything like this before. However, this whole mess was slowly killing me from the inside. I am unable to share. Maybe I am selfish, but I will not change my mind on this."

"If I promise you that you'll be the only one, is there any chance we'll start over?" I approached him and put my hand on his cheek.

"I'm afraid it may be too late for that. Trust is not built in a day or a week. Damon, this really doesn't make sense. We will never be happy together."

His expression changed from a slender to a kind of anger. He threw my hand away as if it had started to burn him. I started to be afraid of him. Damon kicked the bottle I had set aside with all his might. The glass hit the wall and shattered into many pieces. The mixture of alcohol and anger wasn't a good mix at the moment.

"Fuck it. Why you gotta be like that. Why are you making me the worst person in the world.How many times do I have to apologize to you.."

"Damon, calm down."

"Oh shut up." He kept coming closer to me until my back touched the wall. " Why are you rejecting me all the time.I'm like a dog at your every command, and you just keep saying that I make you feel miserable"

He was kissing me again. Invasive but passionate. Only then did I notice how drunk he was. I missed him. Drunk and sober. Aggressive and gentle. Its any version

"Why don't you tell me to stop? Why don't you push me away?" He whispered straight into my mouth. "You don't even know how much I've missed you all this time. I wanted to have you in my arms, wake up next to you...Gosh, fuck you and hear you say my name."

"What can I do? Each time, somewhere in my mind, I imagine that it's a different girl instead of me, how you tell her all these things, how you touch her, how your lips touch her body. It's killing me. Being with you makes me feel insecure." The kiss grew deeper and deeper. Damon's hand rested on my thigh and gently lifted my dress.

"But you are the best. You are the best thing that has happened to me in my life. Y/N" He kissed my neck and his hand moves higher and higher towards my panties.

"Stop. You are drunk."

"So what?"

"All these words won't make us all okay. A moment ago, another girl was in my place." I put my hand on his chest. "You still don't understand. How much I would not love you, you won't change."

I released myself from his grip. This time he did not resist. Without a word, I walked past him and headed for the stairs.

"Y/N..."

"Hm?" I stopped and looked in his direction for the last time.

"If I call you, will you pick it up?"

"Maybe." I shrugged my shoulders. "I know you are going to come over me anyway."

"I really do love you."

I didn't return his words. Maybe those weren't empty words on his part, but it wasn't time to give him a chance again.

[beetlebumxo]

Paris

Pairing: Damon Albarn (90s) x Reader

Word Count: 1,718

Warnings: some angst, arguing, language, fluff

A/N: An imagine of what took place behind the scenes at the MTV Europe Music Awards held in France, 1995.

---

Our flight had already been delayed arriving into Orly, we had to make up for lost time. Damon had really messed up his foot on a piece of glass at the Belfast show a couple of days back, he was in no shape to be running through the airport with me.

 "Do you think you can make it from the gate to the pick up area of the airport?" I asked as I grabbed my carry on bag and helped Damon navigate his way off the plane back into the airport terminal. "Eh, I'll do my best, love." He smiled softly. 

I felt awful that his foot pained him so much; I really wished we could take it easy, I wanted to take care of him and make him feel better. But we still had to get back to the hotel, change and make it to the venue on time. The band was set to take the stage in a few hours. Damon made it from the gate to the front, I picked up our luggage. Luckily management arranged for a limo to meet us.   

"Cet endroit est fantastique!" Damon said eyeing the hotel up and down.  He had been studying French for over a year now. I had to admit he was pretty good at it! I also had to admit he sounded so incredibly sexy when he spoke it. I had to keep myself in check whenever that beautiful language escaped his lips; this definitely was not the time to act on any impulses. I checked us in while Damon sat on a couch in the lobby area. The hotel was absolutely gorgeous, lined with chandeliers, fountains and such lovely views of the city. After checking in, we made our way to the room, changed and had just enough time to meet our next limo to take us to the venue. As we settled in the car, this was the first time I had a moment to take in what was happening. I just realized this was my first MTV Awards show with Damon.

"Damon, this is so exciting, isn't it? I mean MTV and all?" I gushed. 

"Yeah, it's going to really be something else." Damon responded in a mellow voice.

"You're performing! Plus, you're up for an award! It's going to be amazing!! But.. oh, will you be ok with your foot?" I asked.

"I'm pretty excited. Yeah, m'foot should be fine.. I'll just take a pill before heading out" he replied.

The venue was a site to be seen. Famous musicians with models on their arms; flashbulbs going off everywhere. Damon and I snuck in through a side entrance, neither one of us were really interested in the celebrity right now. We checked in with security and were whisked away to Blur's dressing room. We met up with Alex, Graham and Dave. As soon as Damon sat down, the phone rang.

"'ello… yea… that's me" Damon began. "Wait.. but.. wait.. why? Oh that's ridiculous…. You're not fucking serious right?"  Damon huffed and slammed the phone down. He quickly brought his hand up and began rubbing his face.

"Apparently.. those Gallagher twats are getting that award tonight, ya know? There was some 'miscommunication'.." he said in a mocking voice while making airquotes. ".. for fucks sake.. we're better than they are." Damon continued. He was now clearly agitated.

"Well, that's bloody grand, isn't it?" Alex replied while noodling on his bass. Graham sat holding his guitar,  "...tossers.. why are we even going out there, then?".  Dave just rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I asked as Damon tore through the duffle bag he had just come across.

"Damon.."

"What?" He replied with a bit of an attitude.

"Just.. be careful.. don't.." he stared at me. "Don't be stupid, you know what will happen if you mix... those" I motioned to the pill bottle and beer he now had in his grasp.

"Oh, fuck off!" he replied. He popped a good amount of painkillers, and held the green tinted bottle to his lips. He stared at me, while taking a long drink. Graham's mouth dropped open. Alex sucked in his lip, which turned into a slight smirk. Just then, the boys were given the word to go onstage.

I was not having any of Damon's shit today, not after all it took to get us here. "Are you fucking serious??" I yelled, throwing my hands up. "Fine. But don't you dare bitch at me if your performance is absolute shite!!" I was livid.

Damon turned and stormed off towards the stage. Alex just looked at me and shrugged, as he followed behind Damon.

To be honest, the performance wasn't a complete disaster. I was more upset with Damon's attitude and reckless behavior. He was able to hold the notes just fine, as he hid his less-than-sober self very well at times. However, it was quite clear he was under the influence as he swayed, smiled to himself, and finally, fell to the floor. I watched from behind the monitors, just shaking my head. "Fucking idiot!" I mumbled.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. I didn't say much. The mixture of alcohol and opioids had rendered Damon quite useless. He rested his head against the car window. I watched as his muscles softened; The stress and tension faded from his delicate face as his breaths became slower and more uniform. Sleep had taken over his weary body.

I looked over at my lover who had nodded off next to me and felt a tinge of pain in my stomach. Why did he have to act that way sometimes? I knew he was under a lot of stress lately between demands from the record company, touring and now this never ending battle with Oasis. I sighed and watched the streetlights dance across Damon's beautiful features. He already had a few breakdowns before. I would stay up almost all night holding him in my arms, trying to reassure him. I think sometimes he needed me to be his girlfriend, and other times he needed me to be his mother. It was a difficult task, but, I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Damon could be so funny, brilliant, passionate, loving. Millions of girls wanted to be with him, and here I was, the lucky one. And I knew I was lucky. 

We arrived back at the hotel. I gently nudged Damon awake. "Mmhm..one more minute" he said in a very deep, rough voice, turning closer towards the window. I nudged him again "Damon.. c'mon."  He awoke and I helped him get to the room.  I put my arm around his shoulder to steady him, he brought his hand up to mine. Our fingers entangled; I felt my heart skip a beat under his touch. He always managed to make me weak, even when I was upset with him. He truly had such power over me.

I opened the door and helped him over to the bed. He was very groggy. I took off his sneakers and gently placed the comforter over his lanky body. I leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his perfect nose. "Fucking idiot…" I whispered, but this time with a small smile. I climbed into bed next to him and drifted off to sleep.

I awoke the next morning only to find Damon had disappeared from the room. I wasn't really sure what I was in for. But, I never really knew what I was in for with Damon. We hadn't really spoken after the performance, and certainly not in his state last night. Just then there was a knock at the door. It was Damon.

 "Hello" he said, with a slight quiver in his voice. His fringe was long, covering his bright blue tired eyes, he still looked very worn out.  I looked at him and felt any anger I had left start to fade.  He was holding something behind his back.

"I know these aren't much.." he began as he pulled out a small, slightly messy bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "but it's all I could find in the garden..." he chuckled, bringing his hand up, running his fingers through his hair. 

I smiled at him. pressed my finger softly to his pink lips. "Shhh". I said, "And don't go picking the flowers from the garden here! The staff might see you and start a fuss!" I grabbed his large hand in mine and pulled him inside the room. 

"Can we.. talk?" Damon began. I nodded and set the bouquet down on the nightstand. We sat down on the bed, he picked up my hand and began to speak. I felt heat rising in my cheeks again.

 "Look, Y/N... I'm sorry..I said some things…" he started to look down at his feet, moving his injured foot slightly in and out of his shoe.

"I let that shit get the best of me, and I took it out on you." I started to respond, but he continued. "it wasn't right. You've been nothing but there for me, and even now with this." he brought his injured foot up and pointed to it. "Well, I don't know how you put up with me." He looked up with a slight smile.

"Damon.. thank you. You know what you did last night was stupid. I know you're under tremendous stress…. but.. promise you won't ever do that again.." I sighed. 

Damon brought his hand up to my face, slowly running his fingers through my hair. He now made full eye contact with me. I couldn't look away from his beautiful eyes.

"Y/N.. I promise." He sighed heavily. "Listen, how about we stay another night here? We can relax then maybe, explore the city, take in some of the sights, see some of the little shops?"

"You know, I would really love that. I think we need that." I replied. 

"I love you, Y/N, please don't ever forget that." he sighed.

"I love you, too" I smiled back.

Suddenly, I felt his hand gently grab my face, as he pressed his lips to mine. My whole body softened with his kiss. He had made so happy. I couldn't wait for our adventures in Paris to begin. 

[supernovaescape]

Messy

word count: 1.915

pairing: 90s!damon ♥ reader 

warnings: a bit angsty, swearing 

●●●

Damon was a mess.

Eventually you’ve got used to it. It’s just Damon – a little weird, even cold. That big thing about him was making you sad, so you tried your best to, at least, not to think about it so much.

Graham introduced you to Damon when Blur left for a big tour the first time. You remembered Damon as charmingly exited and ready for people to finally hear him, with a terrible hairstyle that was fashionable, but looked awful on every person. Even on him. Even on Damon, who always looked so beautiful, like a ray of sunshine fallen from the sky. 

At first you and him became a really good friends – it’s even pissed Graham a bit. Damon was a couple years older, but he liked the same music as you, the same books, you shared similar opinions and sometimes, in a big argument with Graham, Alex and Dave, you and Damon just stared at each other not saying a word, but talking about the same thing. You fell for him in a first week.

But now – a year and a half later – you became tired of loving him. It was hard, you can name a fuck ton of reasons why. And the most noticeable from them all – the fact that after you just became a really good friends Damon started to be messier and messier, so you couldn’t figure him out anymore. You, him, Graham, Alex and Dave were still friends, and you get together every now and then, but it’s not that special anymore.

“Are you okay?”, Graham asked and you slightly frowned. You already forgot what you’ve been talking about.

“No…”, you answered honestly. Alex and Graham looked at each other knowingly.

You reached for your glass but it was empty long ago, even ice already almost melted. You stood up.

“I’m gonna go get myself a drink!”, you said loudly, trying to speak through music.

The bar was not in the noisiest part of the club, so you could finally hear your thoughts. Although, maybe it was not a good thing. You sat down on a high stool, a little awkwardly, and it almost fell. Your cheeks instantly turned red, so you hurried to get a drink to hide your awkwardness.

On another side of the bar you saw Damon. He was staring at you and seemed surprised. He fucking saw it! Now he’s gonna hate you even more, if it’s possible. You took a deep breath, holding an eye contact. You wanted to turn away, run into bathroom and cry about how miserable you were. Damon’s eyes were almost black in the poor club lighting. Bartender put a glass in front of you, you smiled and said thank you, finally losing an intense eye contact. Heart was beating like a mouse’s, suddenly music became annoying and you felt bad, thinking about how Damon is just sitting here with strangers, instead of spending time with boys and you.

“Hey.”, suddenly you heard Damon’s voice and it scared you to death.

“Oh! Fuck…”, you certainly looked surprised and just a thought about how it all looking from the side made you chuckle.

“Did I scare you? Shit, I’m sorry.”, Damon smiled. You finally looked at him and instantly felt like you both travelled in time two years back. But Damon’s haircut was better. He was smiling at you, not knowing what to say. He scratched the back of his head, smiled again and opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it. You looked at each other for just a couple of moments, but it lasted forever, cornering you. Half of Damon’s face, illuminated by the light from a dancefloor, was turquoise, the shadow of an eyelashes fell on his cheek.

“Are you okay?”, he asked, meaning something else.

“Why everyone keeps asking me that?”

“You look kind of sad.”, Damon said and you were sure that you can punch him in the face right now.

“I called you, you know?”

“Are you?”, he asked calmly, not surprised at all.

“Uh-huh. Multiple times. From the last September I called you thousand times. We met almost every week, but you just stopped talking to me or was cold. Thank God I’m drinking tonight and I found you, because in the other way, it all could last forever!”, you finally stopped talking, finding, that you’ve been pretty loud.

“It wouldn’t last forever.”, Damon said confidently. He seemed serious.

“Our friendship? Of course.”, you said sarcastically and Damon frowned, annoyed. He placed his hand on top of yours and moved closer to your face.

“Let’s go get fresh air.”, he said and held your wrist tight as you walked through the club. Closer to the exit it became less and less crowded, now there was only a few people and they no longer danced. At the door, Damon took out a pack of cigarettes and kept one in his lips, not lighting. He handed the pack to you, but you shook your head.

Outside the club still was a queue and a little crowd. Now any place was too crowded for you two. You were not in tune for a big argument, especially not with Damon. He took you by the hand and you both ran across the road. But now he has intertwined your fingers. Something fell in your stomach and you looked at your palms almost frightened. Only feeling of his hand in yours made your knees weak. 

He held the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and took his jacket off.

“Don’t.”, you said and he stopped for a moment, looking at you.

“No, take it.”, he placed his white Harrington jacket on your shoulders and stayed only in his blue shirt. He lighted his cigarette and, once again, handed it to you. You shook your head, feeling that you might fall right now.

“It’s cold, you better take it back.”, you said.

“And what? Leave you freezing?”, he asked as if the obvious answer was “no”. His voice sounded tiredly. London wasn’t feeling like home – cold wind whistled, hooking you with claws and rattling Damon's hair. You can still hear music from the club.

You skipped your classes one day because it was one of those days when everything goes wrong. Graham allowed you to come to the studio and Damon, as soon as he saw you, said:

“Come here, love.”, and hurried to hug you.

Damon’s jacket smelled like Damon, you didn’t know you missed that smell so much - cigarettes, his sweet perfume and home. Damon smelled like home and in his big jacket even an cold London seemed warmer.

“I know that you called.”, Damon said, “I’ve listened to your messages.”

“Obviously, yes. I’ve left a bunch.”, you said, starting to get angry.

“Y/N… Listen, I’m sorry.”, he said. A cigarette in his mouth almost went out.

“For what exactly are you sorry? What is this conversation?”, you asked loudly. Or is he think that he can act like a dick with a person, and when he gets tired of that, he can just become nice?

“I tried to play it cool, but I’m a mess. "Cool" it's a very relative thing anyway.”

He lighted another cigarette, looking like a little shy boy in front of you. Then suddenly he looked up, at the club and at you, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you further away from the club.

“You know…”,  he started, but you interrupted him, feeling that you’re the only person here who can talk in proper sentences:

“All I know is that hearing you speaking to me is unusual. I have no idea what you’re trying to do here…”, you showed him a dark, silent street you were where, “Are you trying to kill me or justify yourself for being a cunt? And I remember that you’re still a star, blah-blah-blah, but I feel like I’m even worse than nothing for you.”

“I don’t know what you remember. I remember not sleeping the whole night watching old VHSs and how you fell asleep on my shoulder. And your birthday when I went to buy you flowers, but I didn’t know which one do you like so I bought a big stupid bouquet of every one. And how I wrote a song about you…”

“What you want to get? A «thank you»?”

“Also I remember when you cried after a fan being rude to you and it was enough to break my heart, and how…”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“I thought that you can leave so easily and it’s better for me to pretend that I’m absolutely coldhearted. Because I remember how you were mad on Graham after a fight and how you didn’t come to hang out with us… with me.”

“You were dating someone!”

“Oi! And so are you!”

“Oh, please Damon…”

“Mine wasn’t that serious.”

“I’m not nearly as beautiful as all the girls you’ve been with. Yes, and what if it...”, you pointed at him and then at yourself, “...wasn’t that serious too?”

“No, Y/N…”, he said quietly, shaking his head.

He took a step towards you, so that you could feel his breath on your face. He smirked and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into his open mouth. He held your face in his hands, just where he needed, pulling you closer. Damon tasted like cigarettes and something sweet like a cherry gum. His smell has now become even stronger and you could not stop kissing him, becoming rougher, holding tight by his shirt collar. It was better than you imagined, much better than when you thought about his lips over yours when you touched yourself. You wanted to feel him against you, and you moaned loudly in his mouth when he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, biting your lower lip harshly. You hissed.

“Sorry.”, Damon smiled cheekily. He put both hands under his jacket and on your bum. But after a moment, they were on your back again, and then he ran them in your hair, not really sure which part of you he adores more. He moaned your name and you felt how hot his skin was. You wanted to feel more.

You pulled away for a second, looking at his swollen lips. His eyes darkened again, as they were at the bar. To your delight, he pressed his lips to your neck and you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling them, feeling how Damon left a hickey on your neck and a biting mark on your collarbone.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”, he said into your lips.

“I’ve almost fell from that chair.”, you said and quickly kissed him on the cheek, because you always wanted. He held you tight.

“Well...”, he laughed, “At least it made me sort of less scared.”

“How’s that?”, you asked, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled back and carefully looked into your eyes, then lowering his head to your neck and biting just below the ear, so you moaned and laughed.

“I don’t know.”, he said low, “It’s just made you more human. I started to forget that you’re a human too.” 

Damon smiled into your lips and kissed you slowly, tenderly, just moving his lips on yours. 

“You’re heavenly.”, he said, pressing his forehead against yours and just staying there for a moment. 

[alltoomaples]

roaming star | c. leclerc

I'm left alone chasing the roaming star

summary: it's your first day as an intern after being selected as a photographer. and little did you know you were the girlfriend of the ferrari driver who secretly admired you alot.

here's part 2 to this one

pairing: reader x charles leclerc | word count: 1394 words

warning: fluff, sweet, rom-com ft. adorable blushy sharl <33

prompt: song Roaming Star by Graham Coxon from playlist prompts

a/n: here's the first one based on songs. made a playlist for it. and its been a while since i've wrote proper fanfic/imagines but either ways, i hope you'll enjoy reading this. I've used some italian convo and it's translated ones, so any grammatical mistakes, my apologies!

let me know if you've got any suggestions or your thoughts about this one! and requests are open as well. happy reading :))

---------------------------------------------

Photography was something that your heart settled for. The love and passion you had for photography turned out to be your purpose to pursue it as your career.

While doing something you love, you also got the opportunity to meet so many people like Jennifer Aniston, Andy Samberg, Robert Downey Jr and the list goes on. You also had the opportunity to work with the F1 team, Scuderia Ferrari which you were super thrilled as you're a big fan of the sport itself.

The shoot was mainly for new start with their drivers named Carlos Sainz Jr. and Charles Leclerc. The three of you met and little did you know that the driver 16 was in lovestruck with you. Leclerc couldn't get to talk with you seeing you were busy with the shoot. Before he even got a chance, you two had parted in different ways.

Charles couldn't even get to talk yet your name wanders around in his mind. You were always on his mind.

His teammate, Carlos would tease him about how he's madly in love. Charles always rolls his eyes at him but in his head, he wonders what it would be like to be together.

Couple months after the shoot, Formula 1 team had offered you an intern position for photography as many teams where looking for one. You didn't think twice and quickly accepted the offer.

Your first day as an intern started from Australia GP. You, along with your best friend, Y/F/N, walked around the track, seeing as it was a Saturday morning at Melbourne.

As you two were busy talking around the paddock, Carlos seemed to caught your face and he was shocked yet excited to see his teammate's reaction.

"Charles Charles Charleessss" Carlos said, vigorously shaking him by his arm.

"Carlos, what happened!?!" Charles says, looking at his friend.

"I think the universe must have heard your thoughts, mate!" Carlos said, smiling giddy at him. This made Charles more confused.

"Ay ay ay what are you even talking about?" Charles said, confusion written all over his face.

"Your so-called girlfriend is here" the Spaniard said.

"Ha ha ha, isn't that funny enough to stab my little soul" Charles said, smiling sarcastically at Sainz Jr.

"Don't believe me? Alright then look" He said, grabbing Charles face and turning towards where you were standing previously.

All the noise and mayhem went silent as his mouth slight open, shook at what he was seeing. He couldn't believe his eyes that YOU, after all people that could possible be, you were at the Australia GP. around the Ferrari paddock.

around him.

The Ferrari drivers just stood and saw you and your friend walk into their paddock, meeting their PR managers.

"Wow. I mean- Wow" Charles said, as that's all he could say. Carlos patted his back, feeling happy for his friend that he finally talk and ask her out.

Before any further discussion, Mattia Binotto, their team principal saw the drivers standing so he made his way to them.

"Ciao Carlos! Ciao Charles" Mattia said.

"Ciao Mattia" the drivers said, sharing a hand shake with him.

"Abbiamo un nuovo stagista, vedo" (we've got new interns i see) Mattia said, Charles nodding his head.

"Also new love too" Carlos whispers, Charles gives him death glare.

"Vermante? chi è lei?" (really who is she?) Mattia said, Charles mouthing no at Carlos but he says it anyways.

"Remember the girl we did a photoshoot for our team couple months back? that's the one. the one who's wearing a white dress. what was her name..."

"Y/N, questo è il suo nome" (Y/N, that's her name) Charles says, Mattia and Carlos looking at him. Leclerc goes full red.

"You found yourself a good kid. your girlfriend seems to be lovely" Carlos says, smiling at you which makes you wanna smack him right then and there. Before anyone could further take it, Mattia's phone began to ring.

"Mi scusi" (excuse me) Mattia says and leaves the two drivers down to talk.

"Thanks for making her my girlfriend" Charles says sarcastically, smacking his head from back.

"De nada, mon amour" (you're welcome, my love) Carlos says, squishing his cheeks.

"And here's our drivers. Carlos Sainz Jr and Charles Leclerc" Their PR manager introduced the interns to the drivers. You looked at the two of them instantly recognizing them.

"Oh i remember you guys! you're at the ferrari shoot right?" you say, the drivers nodding.

Carlos take it as his mission and takes y/f/n to the pits to show her around, leaving you and Charles alone.

"Practice 3 and Quali today. how you feeling?" You ask him, pinning your hair behind your ear.

"I-i i guess i'm confident and excited to be back on track, mo-" Charles said but before he could say mon amor, he saw Mattia coming back.

"Hey uhm, just do me a little favour and keep nodding your head to whatever i say" Charles say to you. Before you could ask anything, you see the team principal approach you two.

"Mi dispiace per quello" (I'm sorry about that) Mattia said, looking up from his phone and sees you beside Charles. He shows a surprised smile.

"Ahh! è questo il tuo y/n?" (ahh! is this your y/n?) Mattia asks. Charles glances at you and nods.

"Sì! Mattia, questo è y/n, mia ragazza" (yes! Mattia, this is y/n, my girlfriend) As soon as the words left from Charles mouth, you looked at the driver standing beside you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He introduced you to his team principal not as a friend but as HIS GIRLFRIEND!?!

"è bello averti qui" (its lovely to have you here) Mattia says, extending his hand. You shook his hand and you heard Charles getting relaxed as you heard him deep sigh.

But little did Charles saw this coming.

"Grazie Mattia! Grazie per avermi riaccompagnato qui con la famiglia Ferrari" (thank you Mattia! thank you for having me back here with the ferrari family) You said, smiling proudly.

"Oh tu parli italiano?" (oh you speak italian?) Mattia ask, surprised at your smooth italian reply.

"Non fluente ma sì un po' " (not fluent at it but yes a little) you say, standing next to the Monegasque.

"Charles, immagino tu ne abbia trovato uno fortunato" (Charles, i guess you found a lucky one) Mattia says, looking at the two of you.

You turn your head to see Charles, wonderstuck and all red. Charles felt so stupid after what he did. He is caught red handed now.

"Immagino che l'abbiamo fatto entrambi" (i guess we both did) you say, wrapping your arm around his waist and leans your head on his chest, listening to his heart beating as fast as his car on track probably.

"bene, allora ci vediamo entrambi più tardi. ciao" (well then see you both later. bye) Mattia said and walks past you two.

You look up at him to see him already looking at you. You laugh a little before you stand in front of him.

"I didn't know you speak Italian" Charles said, scratching the back of his neck, feeling slight embarrassed and soo stupid.

"And i didn't know i had a boyfriend until today" You say, pulling your hair to one side.

Charles chuckled at your response, making you shake your head.

"Hey Charles! We need you in the pits now!" One of his crew member gave a quick call.

"Be there in a minute" Charles said, looking back at you. You smile at him, showing your dimples which swoons over his heart.

"Well you better get going champ. Your girlfriend will be cheering for you" You said, squishing by his chin.

Charles left a deep breath, his smile so big that made you heart warm.

"Looking forward to it, ma cherie" Charles said, quickly kissing your forehead and runs past you.

"and Leclerc!" you gave a shout to the monegasquean, making him turn around to look at you.

"Yeah bub?" he says, making your heart go fuzzy.

"You have a date pending mister" Charles let out a hearty laugh.

"Gonna get a pole position for you to make it up!" Charles said, sending a wink which was the cutest wink as he failed doing it but you overlooked at it.

You felt content and you told yourself "well, the universe must have heard my thoughts"

and just like he said, he finished P1 for quali and took you out for a cute date. this was start of something new and the two of you thanked the sun, moon and stars for bringing them back to each other.

---------------------------------------------

lmk what you guys thought about this one :)) xx

here's part 2 to this one

[stxrshxpxd]

🎁 fic friday;

birthday girl (part 2)

90s graham coxon x reader,, smut!!

My hands were shoved into my boyfriend’s fluffy hair as he kissed my neck and his hands teetered around the edges of my gift from him. A lingerie set in green lace.

“You can still wear them to be fair,” Graham muttered as he hungrily shoved his hands inside the panties he had just insisted be taken off. He rolled his fingertips around my clit skillfully, sending waves of pleasure through me already. I could see my heart beating hard through my chest as I peered down at Graham who was kissing down my belly now.

He seemed to not be able to make up his mind where to put his lips because he only gave my thighs a few kisses before climbing back up to my face. He gently grinded his clothed semi into me and made me moan again, my cheeks hot and heartbeat still quick.

“So beautiful,” he whispered into the kiss and I felt him roam his large hands down all the curves in my torso. At last he wrapped his arms around the hollow in my back and easily lifted me off the floor. He sat back against the bed and I ended up straddling him, beaming back at him with a giddy smirk.

”I bet this is all going according to plan, isn’t it?” I asked playfully while hurriedly undoing his jeans.

“Exactly,” he laughed, a little out of breath and some redness spread across his cheeks. I smiled sweetly at my pretty boyfriend just as I dug inside his loose jeans and intently watched his face twist in pleasure. He cursed in a breath as I ran my palm up and down his growing cock. The sound of his soft groans and the feeling of his breath hitting my face was making me increasingly impatient to feel him inside me.

I pushed his underwear down and mine to the side and we both seemed to hold our breaths as I slid his tip between my folds a few times.

Graham held my hip with one hand and tucked my hair behind my ear with his other one, all the while glancing down at our bodies.

Soon I sank down on him, my skin aching as he stretched me out slowly. We both let our breaths out and my forehead fell to rest against his, eyes locking shut and whimpers spilling out of me.

“Darling,” Graham whispered and buried all his fingertips in the flesh of my hips now, helping to guide my movements.

I quickly grew used to his size and picked up the pace. I was rewarded with the beautiful sound of his breathy moans bouncing off my lips as I still had my forehead pressed against his.

Grasping for his wrist, I vaguely edged his hand closer to my center. He understood my wish and his thumb began rubbing sloppy circles around my most sensitive spot.

“Fuck, Gra!” I cried at the pleasure building quickly in my core. My walls squeezed around him and the growing buzz trickled out into my legs and up my abdomen, threatening to tumble over the edge any second.

“You feel so good,” Graham breathed and I simply panted in response, my fingers wrapped around his strong wrist still as his thumb worked wonders on me.

A string of moans and curses slipped out of me as my high finally hit me, making my thighs shake and clasp around his hips. I collapsed my head against his broad shoulder as I slowed my hips down gradually, twitching at his cock still being buried inside me.

“My love,” Graham whispered, caught my head in his palm and laid me down on my back. The floor was cool and nice against my hot skin.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you there again,” he promised and sealed it with a kiss as he pushed his length inside me again.

[ssupersonicc]

please, dear — g.c

♡ pairing — graham coxon x fem!reader

♡ summary — gra fingers dear y/n in front of a mirror to show her how utterly delectable she looks when she cums.

♡ includes — sexual content, pwp, vaginal fingering, switch in dom/sub dynamics towards the end (so i might make a part two to this).

♡ a/n — this is my first fic, so please let me know how you liked it! thoughts and feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Watch yourself, dear,” she was perched upon his lap, his calloused hand wrapped snugly around her throat and her thighs were parted to hook over his own.

Reddened lips were grazing at her throat, nipping at the flesh with his teeth before mouthing at the mark he had inflicted.

“So pretty, don’t you think?” he hummed, long fingers teasing the seams of her underwear, the pretty pink cotton saturated and soaking and the constant surges of arousal had her dripping on his jeans.

Graham snapped the elastic against her searing skin after hooking a finger beneath it. Anything to get her to pay attention.

“Come on, darling,” his words were hot against the shell of her ear, his large palm damned a sharp slap upon the thickness of her thigh and a chuckle rumbled deep within his chest when she cried out.

Y/n whined, but never shied away from his stare in the mirror in front of them. Her eyes; glistening and filled with tears, scanned over herself, doing as she was told and gawping dumbly at the saturated patch of fabric just above her slit.

The way his fingertips grazed the little bow that held itself pride and place on her underwear had her head reeling. She felt so deliciously intoxicated, staring with hooded eyes and grasping hands.

“P-please, Gra,” she breathed, shifting in his embrace and mewling highly when his lips sponged at her pulse point. “m’so wet for you.”

He chuckled, running his index and middle finger along her covered folds, revelling in the sweet gasps that tumbled from her pretty throat.

“Jus’ want you to see what I see, m’love,” he smiled against her temple, pressing a kiss there before pulling her panties to the side. “that’s all.”

Two fingers drew tight circles against her clit before trailing to her opening, his digits spreading her arousal along her pussy lips and her hips began to buck against his palm, whining when she saw her wetness glistening from in between her thighs.

“Feel how hard you’ve made me,” he groaned, “jus’ wanna take care of you, darling.”

Graham’s middle finger traced her opening before sinking his long digit inside of her — curling it at the tip, searching for that special spot deep inside of her. His movements were ever so slow, but deliciously deep and she clutched desperately at his wrist, inwardly crooning for him to fasten his pace.

“Can’t believe you‘re mine,” he muttered against her searing skin, watching with a lazy smile when she gasped and writhed in a euphoria she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Such a gorgeous girl.”

“More,” she whined, and her hazy eyes rolled to the back of her skull when he put pressure against her throat — squeezing just enough to have her chest heaving and cheeks warming. “Wan’ it so bad, Gra.”

“You want more, hm, m’love?” He cooed, a second finger pushing inside of her with little resistance, the two digits scissoring crudely inside of her — stretching her so delectably. “Think you can take three?”

Y/n nodded exuberantly and he hummed against her, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Want you to watch yourself cum,” he grabbed at her chin, tugging it — pressing her to stare at herself and his thumb and forefinger made her cheeks squish and lips jut into a pout. “You can finally see what I see, dear. Get to see how gorgeous you look when you cum for me.”

“Please,” her hooded eyes watched the constant pounding to her hole, she was so close, and her pussy was clenching desperately. “Make me cum!”

Graham curled the tips of his fingers upwards once, twice, and on the third time she was unraveling around them, creaming his digits and grabbing at his wrist for some sort of support. Her body spasmed and jolted in his grasp, but her stare never left the mirror in front of them.

He coaxed her down from her orgasm, the scissoring of his fingers slowing to short, dull pumps.

Her mouth was open, bottom lip trembling slightly, slowly but surely recovering from her high and stuttering her words through her abused throat.

A small “thank you, m’love” was all she managed to utter before wiggling against his lap — Gra’s erection still stiff and prominent as ever from underneath her weight.

Craning her neck, she kissed him deeply, pushing her tongue inside his mouth and curling it against his — his fingers had gone from inside her, though the pads of his fingers grazed against her tummy, waiting patiently for her still-slick cunt to lessen in sensitivity.

“Let me make you feel good, Gra,” she uttered against his mouth, one of her own hands snaking around the back of his head to tangle in his hair. “wanna show you how good you look when you cum.”

She was smirking now, the tables completely turning — previously submissive, she soon switched, dominance reeling and it had his eyes fluttering shut and cock twitching from beneath the confines of his jeans.

“Please, dear,” he whined, and she began to smirk once she heard his next little croons — something she had uttered through a whine merely minutes before. “wan’ it so bad.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

inbox me if you’d like to be tagged in future fics! <3

[stopeatingwhales]

"i'm going to go see pj harvey instead." x graham coxon

mainly dialogue this time! this was so funny to write- also starshaped graham???? that man was so HOT

also pj harvey bangs so hard. i refuse to argue

Pairing: 1993 (starshaped era) graham coxon x reader

Warnings: arguing - it's really petty though

Word count: 691

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

"I just don't see how you're not seeing my side of things!" I groaned, huffing as I paced around the grass outside Blur's trailer. A while back Graham had asked me whether I wanted to accompany them to Glastonbury festival, as I hadn't ever been to a festival or seen them perform properly - only in rehearsals - but here we were, having an argument about how I had apparently pissed Alex off by eating his cheese. "It didn't have his bloody name written on it, how was I supposed to know it was his?"

I stared at Graham as he ignited a flame from his lighter, holding it underneath his cigarette as he lit it before taking a hit. It was quite a hot day, so I was unaware how he was able to handle wearing a blazer in this heat, though nevertheless he looked very attractive in it, so I wasn't complaining much. "You know how much he gets fussed about cheese!" he groaned, depending on his tobacco roll to calm his frustration toward the situation.

"Oh come on Graham, you can't be serious right now," I scoffed, a grin curving on my lips as I was astounded at how serious they were handling the situation. "Do I need to ask before I eat? He should've told me!" I argued, my arms moving around to add to how annoyed I had gotten to the silliness of the apparent dilemma.

"Ivan's messed up the cheese at every gig we've gone to during this tour," he began, pinching his cigarette between his index finger and his thumb to carry on speaking. "Today he got it right, but you had to have it the day he did."

"Graham, you seriously can't be siding with Alex on this right now," I said, not understanding what the big deal was. Graham avoided my stare, darting his gaze around the empty field behind the stage as he continued to puff smoke out of his cigarette. "Oh my goodness, you are!"

Turning to look at me, he sighed. "What do you want me to say? It's not my fault that he's mad about it!"

"Talk some sense into him!" I exclaimed, my voice just under the volume for it to be considered a yell. "It's not the end of the world!"

"Well, to him it is!" he replied, his voice matching the same tone to mine as he tossed the now soiled cigarette onto the ground, stomping any excess contents with the sole of his shoe. "You've seen how annoyed he's been these past couple days!"

"You've seriously got to be kidding me."

"I apologise, Y/N, but I'm not." he scoffed. To him, he didn't understand how hard it was to go and apologise, though he was completely unaware of the pettiness of the situation, all because of Alex and his cheese. "Just go and apologise to him, it's not that hard!"

"Oh, fuck you and your band Graham." I scoffed, chewing on my bottom lip.

"That's very sweet of you, thanks," he replied, shifting his torso around the blazer he was wearing, clearly beginning to feel uncomfortable at how hot it had become. "Come on, we're about to head on stage."

"I'm going to go see PJ Harvey instead." I mumbled, knowing that my words would shock him, and they did. I knew that the only reason that I came here was to see the boys perform, but after the argument me and Graham had, and us not reaching an understandable agreement about the mere triviality of the circumstance, watching them live was the last thing I wanted to do.

Watching as Graham's facial expression dropped, I bit harder on my lip to mask the grin that was forming. "Oh, you wouldn't."

"If he can be petty, then so can I," I laughed, walking away from Graham as I headed towards the festival stages. "She's performing the same time your band are, conveniently!" I shouted, though he was already aware.

Turning my head to continue walking off, I lifted my hand in the air to send him the middle finger. "I'll tell you all about it after!"

[damonfuckingalbarn]

My Masterlist!

Requests are currently open- Rules for requesting.

Damon Albarn

90s Damon- Got You!

90s Damon- Beautiful Girl *SMUT*

90s Damon- I’ll Give You A Massage *SMUT*

2010 Damon- You’re Mine *SMUT*

90s Damon- You’re Gonna Do As I Say *SMUT*

90s Damon- I’ve missed you

90s Damon- The Only One That Matters

90s Damon- Newspaper Kisses

90s Damon- I Cry Too

2014 Damon- The History of a Cheating Heart

2021 Damon- Happy New Year Darling

Graham Coxon

Shopping With Graham Headcannon

90s Graham- Good Boy *SMUT*

Alex James

Jamie Hewlett

90s Jamie- “Are you gonna shag him?” Part Two *SMUT*

90s Jamie- “I’m honoured” *SMUT*

2010 Jamie- “I think I’m ready for a cuddle now”

2020 Jamie- “You’ve gone a bit red”

Liam Gallagher

90s Liam- “You’ll never be on your own”

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.