please write something with dilf damon albarn and you will be reincarnated as a lotus flower 🪷
LENS ON TOUR - DAMON ALBARN
summary: dilf!damon albarn x photographer!f-reader. Your job is to capture the stage, the lights, and the chaos. What you didn’t expect was that after the show he would walk you into the bathroom of the tour bus.
TW: smut, age-gap, semi-public sex, slight choking, sex, oral (f!receiving), smut without plot (ish).
words: 2.3k
note: yeyyy omg been wanting to publish something for him and never got to it until your ask! so here you go. obviously expect more of him!!!
My requests are now open!! So feel free to submit something to my asks
The sweaty face of Damon contoured by colored lights was the focus of your camera.
The show was coming to an end and you stood right on the fence bellow the stage. Bass throbbed through the metal barrier pressed against your ribs, and you could barely hear yourself speaking as you leaned over to the staff beside you, exchanging quick words.
Yo had to make sure everyone looked good on pictures that would later be published to the official account of Gorillaz. Your camera clicking again and again.
Onstage, Damon paced from one end of the stage to the other, sleeves rolled up, hair sticking to his forehead. And everytime the crowd screamed he seemed thrilled, eyes moving everywhere. The lights changed from blue to red, washing over his features and sitting just right over his nose and eyebrows.
You zoomed in just as he turned his head slightly toward your side of the stage. For a second his eyes landed right on the camera. Your finger hesitated on the button.
Click.
Damon stepped back from the microphone, breathing heavily, one hand braced on his knee as if he needed a second to collect himself.
The lights dimmed.
You lowered your camera, blinking and looking to the crowd and glanced back toward the stage.
Damon was still there.
Most of the band had already disappeared backstage, but he lingered near the edge of the stage, wiping sweat from his face with the collar of his shirt. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath.
The music was gone now, replaced by inaudible voices of the audience leaving the venue. You lifted your camera strap over your shoulder and followed the guard around the side of the stage.
By the time you reached the dim backstage corridor, the adrenaline from the show was still buzzing through your body.
And at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with that same tired expression, was Damon.
Still flushed from the stage lights.
Still catching his breath.
Waiting.
“You’re the one with the camera now” His voice was quieter than it had been through the speakers. Rougher too, like the concert had scraped it raw. You knew he was referring to you being new to the team.
“Someone has to document the music”
“Did you get anything decent?” he asked with a small smile at the ends of his lips.
You scrolled through a few photos, turning the screen toward him. A shot of him mid-song under violet lights. Another of him leaning over the crowd, arm stretched toward the front row. He leaned closer to see.
“Not bad,” he murmured. His shoulder brushed yours slightly as he looked through the photos. Neither of you moved away right away until he did, turning on his heels and heading towards the endless corridor.
You stood there watching his back disappear into the distance with a weird feeling in your chest.
“The bus leaves in about twenty minutes,” A crew tapped your shoulder “You heading back with us?”
“Yeah. Need to upload these tonight.”
“Good”
Outside, the night air felt cool after the suffocating heat of the venue. The tour bus waited near the back door, people coming out and into the bus, loading, boxes in their arms.
You stepped into the bus. The inside was familiar to you: the cramped space the low yellow light, the narrow aisle, and the small faint of coffee and old carpet.
Most of the band and crew were still inside the venue finishing up, which meant the bus was almost empty.
You slipped into one of the seats near the front and pulled your laptop out, beginning to upload the photos.
A few minutes later the door hissed open again.
Damon stepped inside.
He paused when he noticed you were the only one there.
"Hello again" He slipped into a seat beside you, looking at your screen. Pictures of him sweating, his figure outlined by the gigantic screen behind him with the bands graphics, him under red lights mouth open mid-lyric.
“Let me see that one.” He was closer now. Close enough that his shoulder brushed yours once again when you turned the laptop slightly toward him. The bus lights were dim enough that the glow from your laptop screen painted the edges of his face in pale blue.
"Age is showing" He was so close you thought that you could feel his breath on your cheek.
"Not so bad i would say" You said before you could think.
"You saying i look fit?" The warmth on your cheeks spread across your face and could even feel it on your neck. His soft laughter reached your ears as you failed to think of a response.
You look at him and god, his smile was doing things to your body and your eyes showed this as they traveled down to his hands resting on his thighs, the way his tattoos kissed his skin, and god the way his rings laid on his fingers.
Then up a little and you could see his chest rise and fall in sync with his breathing, up a little more and the tattoo of his neck, folded with the way he was turned to see your face, up a little and his earlobe with the earring, then to the side and the way his beard was perfectly contouring his lips and,
His eyebrows raised as he noticed your wandering eyes, a devilish smile creeping in.
You closed your eyes and cleared your throat looking towards the computer now "mmm, yeah, not bad" A blunt truth, there was not point in lying you knew he had caught you.
For a moment Damon didn’t say anything. The faint hum of the bus engine filled the space instead, along with shoes scraping the pavement outside.
Then he leaned back slightly in his seat. “Not bad” he repeated
You tried to focus on the screen again, pretending to check the upload bar. But you could still feel him looking at you.
"You always look at people like that?"
"Could say so, i'm a photographer" The lie almost made you shiver. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.
A soft chuckle left him.
“No” he said, shaking his head slowly. “That wasn’t a photographer look.”
Your eyes lifted.
"oh, sorry" The red on your face was noticeable.
“Relax,” he murmured, leaning back into the seat again. “I’m not offended.”
“Good,” you said quickly, turning your attention back to the screen.
The upload bar finished with a quiet sound.
Saved.
Posted.
Job technically done.
“You know,” Damon said, stretching one arm along the back of the seat behind you, “most photographers I’ve met don’t get flustered that easily.”
You looked over at him again.
“I’m not flustered.”
“Right.”
His eyes dropped briefly to the warmth still lingering on your cheeks before returning to your eyes and going back down to your lips.
You swallowed and stopped breathing, you know he noticed. Of course he did.
“Well,” he said softly, “if you like what you see.”
Your breath caught.
“Maybe I do.” The words slipped out before you could think them.
Damon’s eyebrows lifted slightly in quiet surprise, but he didn’t pull away. He leaned a little closer. His hand lifted from the seat behind you, brushing lightly against your arm as he shifted.
The touch was like an electric shock that shifted the entire vibe, the air felt heavier, and you felt as if your movements were delayed a few seconds.
Damon glanced toward the back of the bus where the crew’s voices were still echoing faintly down the aisle, Then back at you.
“You know,” he said quietly, “this is probably a terrible idea.”
“Probably" Neither of you moved away. The dim bus lights catching in his eyes. You just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.
Then he leaned in. Slowly enough that you had time to stop him.
You didn’t.
His hand settled gently against the side of your neck as his lips brushed yours. They were soft at first, almost testing, and when he felt that you didn't pull away, his lips settled further into yours. Slipping his tongue inside caressing your bottom lip. Then you felt him smile slightly against your mouth, like he’d been expecting that reaction.
When he pulled back just enough to look at you again you fisted your hands to keep you from reaching to his hair and pull him closer.
"That was definitely not professional.” Your voice was a whisper against his lips.
You could hear the voice of the band. and crew talking behind you and Damon seemed to as well, he glanced briefly over his shoulder toward the curtain separating the front seats from the bunks.
Then he looked back at you.
Someone’s footsteps thudded down the aisle toward the bunks.
“Right” he muttered and leaned back a little rubbing the back of his neck as if reminding himself to breathe.
Another slow smile crept onto his face.
“You know,” he said quietly, leaning a little closer again, “tour buses aren’t exactly known for privacy.” The crew´s voices continued behind you, answering for you.
“No” you said. "They aren’t.”
Your eyes drifted briefly down the aisle, towards the small door near the front of the bus. He knew what you were looking at. His eyebrows lifted slightly and you shrugged with a smile, talking without words.
He stared at you for a second like he was deciding whether you were joking but you could see it in his eyes. The way he had alredy made a decision.
Damon stood up slowly from the seat, stretching slightly as if trying to look casual about it.
“Excuse me a second,” he said, loud enough that anyone in the back might hear.
Three seconds passed before you were standing too, your footsteps quiet on the narrow aisle.
When you slipped inside, the space was barely bigger than a closet: dim light, metal sink, the faint smell of soap and road dust.
The door had barely closed before another hand caught it pulling the door shut again with a quiet click.
The tiny bathroom suddenly felt very, very small.
“This is an incredibly bad idea.” As soon as the words left his mouth his lips were on you, caught your mouth in a kiss, groaning low in his throat when you opened up beautifully under him. The pace this time was fast and intense, with his hands settled into your waist making your legs shiver when they went underneath your shirt.
He loved the way you melt into his touch when he pushed you into the sink and reached one hand to loosely circle your throat. The hardness you feel makes your mouth open in a gasp and he takes that moment to grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head.
"You look so pretty" He says watching you blink slowly with a breathless laugh.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and pulls them down, pooling in your ankles. He doesn't waste any time to crouch and get his face between your legs, opening his mouth to the fabric of your already soaked panties.
The faint taste of you makes him groan against your core as he gets a finger pulling the panties aside and lowering his tongue tasting you fully. The feel of his wet and warm mouth makes your kness buckle, gripping the sink tighter when he starts sucking and licking on your clit.
You try to be quiet with your moans and as a result heavy breaths fill the bathroom and still being to loud to be doing this in a bus. Damon notices this at the same time as you, and reaches an arm up until he's got his hand pressing into your mouth.
It doesn't take long for him to make you orgasm, your knees shaking.
"God" He whispers as he slowly gets up from his crouched position when you start whining in overstimulation. His hand leaves your mouth and a moan immediately leaves your lips. "You're gonna get us caught"
He doesn't seem to care much either way, when he leans forward to kiss you. Its messy and you struggle to catch up. He pulls away with a sigh when you palm him through his pants.
“Just want you.” You say looking at him with needy eyes. He held your face in his hands, admiring how senseless you were already. He traced his thumb over your lips before leaving it in my mouth, hoping to stifle your ever growing noise.
Without warning, he began to unzip his trousers, not allowing any time to recover from your past orgarsm. He was already leaking hopelessly, all for you, just to break you apart once again.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said and you nodded rapidly.
He held onto you as you began to feel him inside of you, he cursed under his breath as he gives you a moment to get used to him before he settles a satisfying rhythm. It shakes you to the core and you grip his shoulders tightly enough to make your fingers hurt.
You cried out as he slammed into you mercilessly, your hips lifted ever so slightly leaving him almost whimpering in your ear. Your whole body shuddering underneath him, begging for a release.
“Please”, You cried out helplessly, unable to form a proper sentence. With a slight smirk he began to speed up, his thrusts becoming more rapid, his insatiable desire evident in every move. He held you still with his hand on your throat.
He never stopped, even as you moaned deeply, every part of you overwhelmed with your second orgasm, feeling him almost collapse as he spilled deep inside of you.
He unwound his fingers from your throat, sliding them into your cleavage, with a smile he tried to hide in the side of you neck leaving wet kisses.
"Should've bringed your camera" He said with a small laugh. "y´know for documenting"
