#they'll seek each other out to spend every single second of their lives together

[franeridan]

ratio saying "...mutual? wait, what did he say about me" I want to say this is straight out of a fic but not even fics characterize him like this oh sweetheart sweetheart

[mirrorforevers]

silently • graham coxon/reader

this is a direct result of this prompt right here

don’t b sorry love, we’re all horny here. this prompt immediately took me out of my writer’s block so yeah gsdjsdhgsdj it was a blessing! tysm for sending it n i rly rly hope u enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it aaaaa i literally couldn’t stop. this one has a special place in my heart now.

also please tell me whatchu think abt this one on my askbox! unbeta’ed bc i love danger

word count: 2.809

warnings: smut. shameless, fast paced fluffy smut.

You couldn't understand why the hell he was so nervous. On the way to your parents' home he asked more questions than a 4-year-old on their way to a park - what are they like, what do they like to do, do they know Blur? Do you think they will find my shoe ridiculous? I'm sure they'll think I’m a weirdo. What did you tell them about me? Even the many kisses you gave him were not enough to calm him down, leaving you to assure him that even if your parents didn't like him - which would be impossible, Graham was never better and more pleasant to live with - you would continue to like him. Very much.

Couldn't live without him, actually.

When you arrive at the door, your mother greets you with a wide, surprised smile - it didn't even seem like she had been begging to meet Graham for months and meticulously planned every minute of the time you would spend together. Her friendly posture seemed to make him more comfortable, the fact that your father was traveling also ended up making him more relaxed. “Dads are always frightening,” he’d say. He agreed to spend the rest of the night there after having an extremely pleasant dinner.

While he does the dishes, you and your mother clean the table when you decide to stop by the kitchen to talk to your boyfriend.

"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" You ask, a daring tone in your voice.

He smiles sheepishly. "Everything went significantly better than I thought it would, honestly."

“You did well. Not that she is hard to please, but you are really sweet.” You kiss him on the cheek. (It's so cute how he still blushes at these things after months of dating.)

"Thank you, love."

"I mean it. I think you deserve a gift for being like this.”

He looks at you, starting to pay even greater attention to the direction of the conversation. “And what do you have in mind?”

You whisper in his ear in the most seemingly innocuous tone you can feign. “I, for one, think you should fuck me senseless in the room upstairs.” He smiles, gaze a little lost in his surroundings as it usually goes whenever he’s pleasantly disconcerted by your dirty talk. Your hands travel his body subtly under his shirt. He hisses: “Can’t wait.” His voice is weak. You love to tease him like that.

You give him a little peck where his mouth and cheek meet – and then you motion to leave after a wink. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Babies, sorry to interrupt,” your mom arrives at the door, instantly killing off the whole mood you’ve created. “I forgot to tell you, but some other people from our family will be here in a few minutes. We’re not done yet!”

Graham’s really confused. You shrug and give him some context – “My family just loves gatherings in general. And they’re excited that I have a boyfriend now, apparently.” To which your mom points: “Exactly! They want to meet you too, Coxon!”

You can feel the anxiety building in him again already. He’s so uncomfortable it hurts, and you know his head is spinning. He doesn’t want to let you down, and after your mom leaves, you go back to calming him down again. “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. If you­’re too overwhelmed we--”

“No, no. I signed up for this. I’ll be okay. I’ll have a drink or two…”

You completely discard this possibility. No associating alcohol to social abilities anymore after everything he went through because of it. “No. We’ll find other ways to calm you down.” After some seconds of a silent yet intense brainstorm, you have an idea. But you won’t tell him. “Ok, I know what to do to take your mind off the pressure. Just wait and see, and no beers, alright?”

“Alright… I guess.”

After giving him yet another peck while he finishes cleaning the plates, you quickly run upstairs to change from the tight jeans and band shirt you’re wearing to a very light and flimsy sundress. And that’s all the clothing you choose. It fits you well, and leaves not much to the imagination. You know it’s a family gathering, but it’s also summer, so no severe dress codes were being enforced in any significant way.

He reads your mind the moment he sees you in the dress, shaking his head in pleased disbelief at the sight. He mouths a small “you didn’t” while a stupidly joyful smile slowly shines over the tight expression of worry he once had. To which you mouth back: “I did.” You then go back to playfully teasing each other a bit while you take care of the sudden assembly’s preparations.

Your family members arrive and, as expected, they’re really thrilled to meet your guy. Graham answers so many questions, and ends up sharing so much of how he feels about you with them, and bit by bit, the warmth and wholesome aura of your closest relatives makes him feel truly welcomed. He feels like he knows you even better now, now that he knows where your energy and vitality come from. He could see bits of your personality in every single one of them – of course you are still the splendid whole, but still. It made sense.

Also, you noticed he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. He was hungry and you’re glad your plan worked. It was easier to forget about how hard sociability is when his mind was somewhere else.

After a while, though, you could sense him getting fidgetier. Even though he was considerably and visibly more relaxed than he was a few hours ago, that amount of social interaction, specially while sober, still drained a lot of his energy. You take his hands, announcing you two were getting something else to eat. You go to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights, and though the house is empty you two could still hear the enthusiastic discussion your family is having outside, slightly drowned by the distance and the walls separating you now.

“You did so great, baby.” You smile, giving him a victory kiss while he envelops you in a tight hug. He’s proud of himself too, and he deserves to feel like that. “They love you already.”

“They’re just like you, in a way. I’m glad everything went well,” he sounds relieved, still tired, but relieved. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that proposal you made me earlier, though.”

“I know,” You plant a chaste kiss on his jaw. “I felt your eyes on me.”

This second kiss he gives you feels different. It’s longer. Famished. Purposeful. His hands are friskier now, traveling hastily throughout your body, and you alternate between giving in and becoming progressively more alert of your surroundings. You can have an idea of where this is heading. The swirling of his tongue around yours makes you dizzy, and the feeling somewhat akin to an electric shock – but milder, and definitely more carnal – that flows through your body when he bites your lower lip and brings your hips closer to his brings you back to reality. “We have to be careful,” you whisper, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air.

“I promise I’ll be. You look delicious in this dress, I… don’t know where to start.” He cups your cheeks while drawing imaginary lines across your lips with the tip of his thumbs.

“Think fast. Never took you for a quickie guy.” You chuckle.

“I like to take my time, yes, but some things can’t wait.”

And with that, with the dexterity and carefulness of a cat, he sinks to his knees in front of you, lifting up your dress with one hand and one of your legs with the other, your leg now resting on one of his large shoulders. He takes hold of your hips, angling you toward him. You hiss in anticipation, and you can feel your core burning in expectation too. Your hands now firmly grab the counter behind you for support while you turn behind you with attentive eyes to see if no one’s coming. You’re safe, for now. The thrill of getting caught is one that will never get old.

His eyes seek yours for reassurance. You, without a word, give it to him. You both look lovely bathed in moonlight. He teases you first, kissing and sucking at the skin on your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your center until after a couple minutes of that sweet agony his lips graze across that aching part of you.

He flicks his tongue delicately through your folds, playing with your wetness. The way his hands caress your lifted thigh so delicately while his tongue inscribes poems to your clit is something that makes your stomach flutter, you simply can’t ignore those tiny adorable actions that make loving him so addictive and rewarding. Keeping yourself silent and struggling to remain somewhat composed to anyone who might see you from outside is a painfully arousing contradiction to the sensations you’re feeling. He’s doing his best to fuck you up, gradually setting a rhythmic pace to his movements with the intent to release the spring now starting to coil tightly low in your abdomen.

“Jesus, Gra—f-fuck. Fuck.” You whisper, breathlessly, while simultaneously suppressing a moan when he delves his tongue even deeper in your core, your fingers instinctively curling and closing a fist on his hair, making him groan. You buck your hips against his lips and you can feel sweat beading on the backs of your knees, heart threatening to jump out of your mouth by how fast it’s racing.

You suddenly freeze when you hear a voice from outside approaching the kitchen and you lightly tap his shoulder. Graham stops on command, but he won’t get up until he’s absolutely certain he should. He sprinkles your thigh with small kisses again, eyes droopy with the high from giving you the pleasure he knows he’s giving you while he admires you. The person heading for the kitchen takes a turn to the opposite side and you sigh in relief. “False alarm. Go on, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You notice he’s panting, and you can only guess how hard he is, judging by the tone of his voice. The time you spent frozen wasn’t enough to completely burn out the fire he’d already created within you, but he’s determined to give you an orgasm before anyone can interrupt you again – now he had two fingers moving, stroking, curling inside of you in delightful ways while his tongue began to work your clit in tight little circles. You could feel him moaning against your sex, he really liked this. And fuck, he was good at it. He slips one more finger into you, his ring finger, making your pleasure soon explode into a trembling climax. You couldn’t stop the little sound you made and he kisses your thigh in reply while still lazily fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

One of your hands move to your mouth in order to cover the sound you really want to make. Graham, once again, looks really proud of himself.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them with his tongue before he lifts up again as inconspicuously as possible. You try to look like nothing happened, and you’re both glad that, apparently, no one’s giving a single fuck to whatever’s going on where you are. Given the realization, you look at each other and giggle. He then pulls you in a hug, voice husky when he teases, and confesses, “You can’t imagine how bad I want to fuck you right here. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“We’ll have to take this to the bedroom, love.” You reply, still recovering from your orgasm. You can’t risk more than you’ve already risked. He looks slightly…

Disappointed.

You smile. “You thrill-seeking bastard. You enjoyed this way too much, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t you?” He questions back, tickling your sides, a wide, satisfied smile on his face. God, you loved him so much. He pulls you back to him again, and you turn to the other side so he can grind against you from behind. He’s rock hard. “We have some thick curtains here, after all.” You say, mischievously, before you close the curtains as carefully as possible. He lifts up your dress once again, this time high enough so he can fill his hands with your breasts, and he, agonizingly slowly, teases your nipples with his fingertips while he keeps grinding against you. This, alone, gets you motivated enough for another round. “God, Coxon, you’re going to be the death of me.” Your voice’s painfully needy, just like every other part of you.

You spread your legs a little wider to give him better access to you. Feeling cool air against your bare ass, you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut when his hand squeezes your butt. “Dripping wet for me. You’re glistening.” He quietly notes, giving your butt a little kiss - you then look over your shoulder to watch him get his jeans open. His hard cock bounces against your ass as he pushes his boxers down. You wiggle to get him inside you while he tortuously slowly runs the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy. When it bumps against your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the mewl of his name.

After a few more hard breaths, he was inside you. You’re hungry for him too, and the sound of your body clashing against his is something unbelievable. You begin in a faster pace than the one you’re used to – and that’s not a problem. At all. Speed is of essence, but you’re also starving for each other. It feels like no contact is ever 100% enough.

Your hands keep firmly gripping the balcony and when he lowers his chest against your back you can’t hold back the involuntary gasp that leaves your throat and echoes through the empty house. One of his large hands holds your hips in place while he fucks you mercilessly, the other one covers your mouth hastily – his shaky voice betrays how badly this is affecting him too. “Shhh, love. You don't want anyone seeing you in that state. So fucking tight around me.”

He was sinking more deeply into you with each thrust now, and trying to keep your eyes open while his now awaken dominant side is doing that to you, exactly the way you want him to, is torture. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the all the sensorial and contextual stimulation. “You want me to come inside you, baby?” To which you keenly reply with a nod, not bothering to uncover your mouth. This was perfect.

He edged his hips back so he reaches your most sensitive spot and his grip on your mouth constricts when he notices how loud you want to be. “Feels like a dream inside you but keep. Quiet.” His voice lowers to a breathy whisper against your throat and the hands that were holding your hips in place now snaked to the front of your body to help you get off. And like that, you do, coming a second time, this orgasm even more intense than the last. The way your walls twitch around his dick is enough to push him over the edge too, and you feel him spilling inside you. You milk him of every drop, and after you both ride off your high, you feel a tender kiss that lasts for a while in your scalp, a silent “thank you” while he slips out of you.

You put your dress back on place, trying to compose yourself before you can look another human in the eye again. You have a positively overwhelmed, just-woke-up-from-an-incredible-dream look on your face. “You better not get me addicted to this kind of risky shit.”

He laughs while he also does his best to look like not one hair or piece of clothing ever went out of place. “Sorry, Y/N, I think I already did.”