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unveranosinseb0514 · 6 months ago

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Jenson Button: Tv Time

Pairing: Jenson Button x F!reader

Summary: You and Jenson decided to watch a movie together on the couch but things take a different turn and he seems to be interested in something else.

Tw: Minors dni!!!! 18+ Only, Smut, fingering (f receiving), cum eating, Jenson's a bit whipped, teasing (it's Jenson, y'all), a bit fluffy, a little praising, it's kinda...descriptive, sub!reader, dom!jenson, think that's all for now, let me know if i'm forgetting something.

Words: 6k (something around that)

Masterlist

You slowly walked down the stairs, after getting settled in a room between Sebastian and Fernando, knowing that there you could sleep without any noise bothering, both are extremely silent, so it's about to feel like heaven sleeping next to them, it's been a few weeks since you're having a light sleep, any noise might wake you up, and the other two are kinda loud even without meaning to. Suddenly, you stopped at the last step of the stair, catching a glimpse of the last beam of sunlight on the sky, smiling gently.

The house was on the best position on the top of the hill, being relatively high as well, so you could clearly see the sun touching the green hill from the distance, you always appreciated little things and little moments like this, and was tempted to hop on the kitchen island to observe the spectacle of nature before your eyes when you heard a familiar noise coming from the living room. "Sponge Bob...?" You commented quietly to yourself, making a face, walking slowly on the polished floor, the flip-flops doing the minimal noise.

The television was on with Button thrown on the couch, the hand on the remote control, while on the television, Sponge Bob made Krabby Patties. The show was ending but you saw enough to bite your lip and trying to prevent a laugh from getting out, it was an adorable scene, he sure looked bored, not with the cartoon though, every now and then he let out a few smiles or laughs, he was indeed watching.

"Am I disturbing your cartoon watching section?" You asked, laughing a little and taking steps forward, next to the sofa, he quickly turned his head on your direction, bearing a smirk that made you mirror his, it was contagious. "Y/n my darling, come, sit here" the older man said, patting with his slightly heavy hand on his side on the sofa, letting his arm above the backrest, indicating that he wanted you close, and you did that slowly, sitting there comfortably, didn't even had time to adjust, the man quick pulled you closer with the arm that was extended behind your head before, making you let out a squeak, laughing slightly, and seeing him smiling because of the surprised sound you let out.

"I hope you like cartoons, because that's what we're going to watch" Jenson was paying attention to the television with the same smile on his face.

"It's not that i have something against it, but it's so cute to see you watching" he just let out a chuckle, squeezing you to his side, but still, eyes glazed over the screen, giving time to observe him a little, your head on his shoulder, the strong arm behind your back, keeping you practically 'stuck' at his side - not that you complained. The beard was a bit thin, messy, he had some freckles, some gray hairs here and there, his expression lines became more present every time he moved his facial muscles a little....but that only made him more attractive in your eyes, not forgetting his incredible sense of humor, of course. So entertained by the man that you hadn't even noticed that something else started on the television.

Feeling his muscle close to your arm, he still raced at WEC, needing to maintain strong. "You're staring love" the older said next to your ear with a teasing smile on the lips, caressing your arm up and down, the only reaction you could have was to be out o words because you wouldn't thought he would notice, the cheeks warming up a bit and goosebumps down your spine.

Looking at the man's face like an idiot for a few seconds, he knew exactly what he was doing, and while watching, he could feel your eyes all over him, it wasn't that subtle. "I only got distracted! Sponge Bob hasn't held my attention since I was 10" you said playfully, giving a gentle slap on his chest, but he was eyeing you with a small smile, ready to tease "Yeah...but Sponge Bob finished a few minutes ago, the movie now is 'The Incredibles', what's your next excuse now?" His tone was cocky, like someone who just won an argument, that ended up leaving you once again without having anything to say, you took a glance at the television and he was right, at least 20 minutes has already passed since the movie started and you were completely lost in daydreams of his beauty, but luckily, he ended up laughing and seeking the remote control to you "I'm just teasing, silly, here, choose whatever you want"

He had a slightly tender smile on his lips now, staring while keeping you close, and like anyone else who's not boring, you did enjoyed cartoons from time to time, but it sounded more easier lie than just admit that you've been admiring the brit.

You took the remote, not that you were very interested in anything that was on television with this man by your side, but you decided to give the screen a chance, changing the channels until an horror movie came, couldn't quite recall the name, but seemed better than the cartoons.

"a horror movie? You like that kind of stuff?" The man asked, laughing, slightly ruffling your hair at the back of your head, not enough to make you annoyed.

"a lot, to be honest" you said smiling, snuggling right next to him, laying the head on his shoulder in a comfortable way.

Having you close like that made the man let out a light sigh that he didn't know he was holding, almost relieved of having you so close, looking at you more interested than what was going on the screen and you didn't even notice, slowly looking at your whole face, the way your eyes were expressive, the nose slightly raised, cheeks that seemed soft just like the rest of the skin, and naturally pink lips that he so wanted to taste despite the fact that in the back of his head there was still a small voice reminding him that maybe he shouldn't do that, so he cleared the throat quickly and shook his head, trying to pay attention to the movie and take you out of his thoughts.

Listening to the sound he made with his throat, you looked curiously but he was already watching, deciding to just stay quiet and do the same. In practically 15 minutes of film, Jenson did something he always does to distract himself from the thoughts who were still lingering on his mind: talking and being playful.

"nope, you're gonna die" he said shaking his head in the scene where one of the characters went to check on a noise in the house "why are they always so stupid? Of course if you hear a noise in the dark in the middle of the night you'll see what it is" saying as if it were obvious people won't do that, with a tone of indignation while shaking his head, you could only leave a smused smile on your lips, and as soon as the girl's screams were heard while the killer caught her. "Oh, see? Nothing good would come of a noise in the middle of the night in the house"

"And you're telling me that if you heard a noise here in the middle of the night, you wouldn't check it out?" You questioned crossing your arms and arching one of the eyebrows in a playful way.

"I'm curious, but not dumb, I would probably send you or the other boys" he said laughing and squeezing you

"Oh what a gentleman! Honestly even Fernando would go on his own" you blurt having fun, Fernando was known for prioritizing himself too much on the tracks - which is already expected of a driver, but he was a little more -, which It's nothing like the man he is outside of them, but you knew Jenson was just joking.

"and he would be the first to die, love. In the attempt to be the Knight in the shining armor, who does he think he is? Don Quixote? The Spanish version of Lancelot?" You let out a genuine laugh as he chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing that you were amused by his sense of humor.

"Now that you mentioned it, he would look really good as Aramis...or Athos...but you do know that the name of Don Quixote is Alonso, right?" you say slowly, biting your lip at the image, Aramis was the real Don Juan of The Musketeers, so it would probably suit him better, but your thoughts were interrupted by the small shove the older one did playfully to your side, as if he was jealous...and probably, deep down, he was.

"Hey, I'm right here, just because I wasn't the knight? It was a joke...in reality I wouldn't let anyone check and we would all jump the window" he said, burying his nose in your cheek, making you laugh, lightly slapping his thigh which he pretend it hurt, complaining and making a face, stroking there, straightening the legs in a relaxed manner after, he hadn't even noticed, being already used to being spacious, and even if it was tempting the way his big thighs were a bit stiff in this position, he was too relaxed.

"As if your knees could handle this and it's no use, this manspreading won't work on me" you teased him by giving the legs a little push, and only then he did realize. "oh shoot, sorry love"

It was apologetically while closing his legs a little, you were just joking, since you were practically glued to his side, it didn't bother you much, but it was certainly a distraction.

"let's just watch the movie? We've already missed a lot of things" he suggested, and laughing you agreed, as soon as you both snuggled up properly, finally paid a little attention to the plot unfolding on the screen.

Jenson seemed to have other plans, of course he enjoyed your company, to have you close, but he's been seeing you differently lately - not just him -, and having you so close, on the couch, wasn't helping at all with these thoughts he shouldn't have about it, he actually thought about watching the film...but maybe the timing was too perfect for another thing. Slowly, while pretending to pay attention to the screen, he began to gently stroke your arm caressing it while, and since you're watching, it didn't bother, to be honest, it was a welcomed affection, all the men in this house have always been affectionate towards you and the British man is no exception. His fingers slowly felt the softness of your skin, the heat, just below the sleeve of the sweatshirt you were wearing, it was one finger, then two, three... and when you realized, he was caressing and warming you up with his hand, long enough to look at his large hand for a few seconds, which despite its size, had a delicate touch, and the size had a slight contrast with your arm, ending up blinking a few times, quickly looking at the television, not letting the thoughts went where they shouldn't, but the scene in the movie wasn't helping.

The couple was kissing slowly, both sitting on the couch - which seemed like fate was trying to be funny -, the boy slowly put his hand inside the girl's t-shirt, slowly lying down on the sofa, usually this type of scene didn't even affect you, but there was something about the slow kiss, the light smiles at each other, carefree, without knowing what awaits them, the touches that seemed so real that they made you adjust a little on the sofa, letting a low sigh when the boy slide himself between the the girl's legs, you had no idea why a scene like this was affecting you so much, enough to make you have to move, several films had sex scenes...apparently, not like this one, which didn't go unnoticed by the man next to you, he looked slowly for a few seconds, from head to toe but then shifted the gaze at the screen again, and as if he didn't saw anything, still caressing the arm, he used his other hand to make a small caress on your thigh, his thumb slowly moving up and down on the fabric, of course the scene didn't help with what Button was already thinking, you were feeling the tension in the room increase, and for a few seconds you wondered if that was really happening, it was as if he was testing the waters... and actually was, he wanted to know what your reaction would be, if by any chance you would hit his hand or he would get a slap in the face and hear that he's being disrespectful, that you are not ready for any of this, which he would respect and give you space, but you were already starting to feel slight shivers, a certain anticipation in your chest, so you slowly turned your face, watching the man who feigned interest in the film at that point. Thinking that maybe he wasn't just being affectionate as usual. With some shyness, feeling the great, not so intoxicating perfume of the older man, you got close enough to leave him a kiss at the base of his neck, when you realized that the man hadn't moved away or said anything, you gave him another kiss slowly above the other, and one more, which made him humm, adjusting a little on the sofa and sliding his hand from your arm to waist, making a small caress there, his hands in a sneaky way touching the skin there underneath of the hooded sweatshirt, making you relax a little, the feeling of his hand there scared at first because you weren't expecting it, but his touch felt good.

"can i ask you something, darling?" The voice was low because you both were close, slowly facing him after that. "you just did, but go ahead" your tone was playful, which made him leave a smile on his beautiful lips, and for the first time looking a bit serious, which made you feel your cheeks heating up, your shoulder was leaning against the taller one's side, close enough, the tension palpable.

"have you ever...touched yourself?"

The question was personal, your cheeks gained even more color, probably should have already expected at this point that it would be something like that... but perhaps the fact that you had never talked about it out loud with anyone... left you embarrassed, even more so being with him, even after what you all talked about in the kitchen...you wouldn't get used to talking about it out of nowhere, so you just let out a blushing laugh. "You know that...just as you have... desires... I also have... but I never... put my fingers inside, I was afraid it would hurt" you admitted somewhat ashamed, which he let a chuckle escaped, using his hand that was previously on the thigh for your hair, slowly adjusting it, caressing your face with his knuckles right after, knowing that this had made you slightly shy so he tried to comfort with the touch and a careful smile. "Really? Those tiny little fingers?" He teased, reaching for one of your hands and making you open it, placing your palm on his hand, the difference appearing immediately, his fingers were bigger, a little thick... which was to be expected, but that made you playfully roll your eyes and intertwine your fingers.

"Ha ha ha, tiny compared to yours!" You commented, laughing slowly, the tension was still there, for a few seconds you just stared at each other, the older man's hand still gently caressed your waist.

"You're right...so what do you do then, huh? Play with your clit?" He whispered with his face close, your face coming alive again at how direct he had been just now, just letting a small smirk appear on your pinkish lips. "That's a bit too much information"

"alright...fair enough, let's put it that way, love...what if i say i want to touch you? What if i say i can make you feel good and show you that it doesn't have to be painful?" You remained quiet while the man gave a proposal, to be honest, deep down inside you didn't need to think, the answer was a solid yes! but something made you hesitate, maybe the size of his hand, which would be in unexplored parts, but the desire to have him touching you was greater, so you simply nodded, agreeing. "I need to hear you."

"yes...just don't get too ahead of yourself" you said, to which he just smiled and nodded slowly, understanding what you meant by that.

He slowly slipped his fingers further inside your sweatshirt and blouse, making a lazy caress, he slowly approached your face and began to kiss gently, wanting to relax you, when the kisses reached your neck, you couldn't help but let out a sigh, closing eyes and tilting the head to the side, giving him more space to explore the neck, after all, it was a sensitive place, and it sent goosebumps through your body, while the man's hand continued to feel the skin of your stomach, moving up gently, lightly touching the underside of your breasts, which made you adjust a little, slightly impatient to have him touch where you wanted, which didn't go unnoticed, he let a low laugh come out, biting your neck near your collarbone, making you whimper. "Impatient are we?" Joking, he plastered a somewhat smug smile on the lips, you were about to complain when his fingers slowly entered your pants, your hand grabbing on the same arm that kept you pressed against his side.

Butterflies hit your stomach at the new sensation of someone else's hand in such an intimate place, but as soon as the older man started playing with the hem of your panties, you almost gasped, of course you were comfortable with him, you felt comfortable enough to let him do what no one has ever done, because you trusted him...still, it's not like you're used to that kind of touch.

"Relax..." He whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck to distract just a bit, already feeling your skin a little hot, the slick between your folds dripping slowly on your panties, and that only with his touch and teasing. Button liked how sensitive to touch you seemed to be, and as much as he was tempted to just slide his fingers in and finally explore what he wanted so much...he enjoyed teasing and didn't wanted to overwhelm you all of sudden.

The film, long forgotten on television, you couldn't even hear anything other than your heart beating strongly - almost in your ears - and the breathing of the man close to your neck as he gave light bites and kisses. His hand slowly slid past the hem of the panties, all below your clothes, and those seemed to be becoming too hot as the minutes passed.

"Hey, Hey, Look at me" he asked with such a low and soft voice to hear, and slowly you did so, he took a few seconds to admire with an intense look, your eyes were half-lidded, the pupils starting to dilate, temperature a bit high and breathing slightly faltering, he had a half shit-eating grin on his face from seeing how little things affected you, but that was probably because it's him, it would be difficult not to be affected by everything he does.

With no time to waste, he kissed you, slowly, carefully, successfully distracting you from his two fingers that crept closer to their destination. You relaxed too much into the kiss, taking one of your hands to the older man's face, slowly pulling closer, caressing his facial hair with the tips of your fingers. A long, calm and patient kiss. Him, taking advantage of the fact that you were distracted, didn't miss it, gently sliding his colder fingers between your pussy lips, rubbing one of them on your clit for the first time, which made you moan softly in the middle of the kiss, not expecting the touch.

"shit... you're really wet" he voiced out, letting a small laugh escape, surprised.

Seeing him speaking so confidently while letting his fingers explore your pussy made you feel a pulse there, which he certainly felt too, your clit already throbbing, begging for attention after such light touch.

"J-Jenson" you moaned softly against his lips after the kiss with his fingers moving slowly and delicately, as if he wanted to remember the feeling of sliding his digits in such a warm and wet place, especially tight, what he felt when sliding his middle finger up to your entrance, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves with his thumb while the other pressed just a little on your glistening entrance, putting just the tip of his finger inside, already feeling how tight it was, which made you moan his name again and tremble slightly from the new sensations, he couldn't help but let out a groan that was on the back of his throat.

"that's right baby, say my name" he whispered close to your lips and placed a few kisses on your neck. As the seconds passed, you only got wetter, his touch was so careful, the caress was precise anyway, you knew he could make you Come lazily and that would still bring tears in your eyes from the intensity.

You tilted your head back a little, squirming, crying out small moans on his side with him flicking your clit a bit faster now, spreading a few times your inner lips to slide his big digit against your entrance, just teasing and sometimes pressing there but never putting in too far, as much as he was just tempted to shove his fingers into you with how wet you were, coating him slowly with your juices, what you both knew by the sensation and the slick noises it made because of the friction. This was getting too much for him, he started to play with your clit even more, your legs shaking slightly with the sudden change of pace.

"I'm gonna put one finger inside, okay?" He whispered with the breathing a little messy, almost as if asking for permission, and you couldn't respond properly, so with your eyes almost closed you just shook your head quickly, letting him do it.

Calmly he pressed his thumb on the most sensitive place while pushing his coated middle finger inside you, only stopping when his first knuckle was inside, and immediately he felt the velvet walls gripping his finger like it longed to be filled by something.

It was a strange sensation for you at first, after all, you had never dared to put anything in there, and even though Button's fingers were a little large, the feeling was far from uncomfortable, at this point, oddly enough, you already felt a slight warm sensation in your lower belly, and as soon as he started moving his finger slowly and your moans became a little louder and more frequent along with the squelch noises being more present, he couldn't take it.

"alright, i need to see you baby, fuck, i need to see that pussy, i bet it looks so beautiful all wet for me" he whispered somewhat desperately, breatheless still, as he used his other hand to hurriedly pull down your pants, you raised your legs a little, slightly trembling, to help him.

Despite everything you were already doing, hearing him talking like that made your face heat up, it seemed so shameful.

He threw the pants away, letting out a small growl when the big wet spot on your orange panties appeared, which he quickly discarded on the floor as well, and in one swift move he manhandled you to sit on one of his thick thighs, keeping your back pressed against his chest, not exactly sitting but in a position he could look at it closer and better. "keep your legs spread for me baby, that's it" he asked, slapping your thigh twice without much force, the man's breathing was almost the same as yours, but he couldn't help but let out a groan seeing the treasure you had between your legs, made his eyes shine, tempted to just throw you on the couch and eat you out like it's the last thing he'll do.

Mesmerized, letting his fingers slide to your glistening pussy, welcoming his already slick fingers so easily, it was shining in the light, his fingers seemed big there on the same espace, only then you realized the mess you made with just his touch, while releasing whimpers, your cheeks grew even hotter.

"baby look at you... God you're soaking, so fucking beautiful" he said in a low tone, still admiring you, now that he could see what he was doing, everything had become better.

"J-Jenson...baby please...please touch me" you begged in a low voice, thrusting your hips a little, to make him slide his finger where it was before

"what? I'm already touching you, love" he teased, pressing and rubbing in a slightly mean way, with force, his thumb in your little bundle of nerves, your body gaining a jolt of pleasure that made your legs shake and you moan his name, feeling the smile on the older man's lips who loved to tease you, and as much as you wanted to slap him to make make him stop that, your mind was more focused on begging, you never needed someone's touch as much as you do now.

"Goddamn, please!...please...want your fingers inside...so bad" wiggling softly on his thigh, he let a low chuckle and just as you were about to ask again without any shame in begging for it, he placed his strong arm under your breasts, keeping you pressed there while holding the hem of your hooded sweatshirt and without much delay he pushed his middle finger against your entrance, this time putting it all the way in, making you squirm but he held you with some force, not letting you move too much.

In meantime he was moving his finger, nothing too strong or forceful, but fast, which made you moan a little sweet and louder, forgetting that you weren't alone at home, but it was difficult to control, the feeling was so good, you squeezed a little more the arm that was around you, with your eyes closed and head leaning against his warm body. Without any warning, he slowly introduced another finger, both his middle and ring finger knuckles deep inside you by now, and because of the size, you thought they might hurt, but you were wrong...oh you were so wrong, it only gave it more pleasure, made your legs shake for the dozen time.

He moved them rather quickly now, as you felt the pressure in your lower belly increase, the British bit his lower lip slowly, closely observing how your body reacted, he relished the fact that he was the one doing this to you, leaving you all warm, red, sweaty, wet and sensitive, begging for his touch, getting lightheaded, things you're experiencing for the first time in the best way, you were never this helpless when you touched yourself.

"Look at that...fuck... you're dripping, you're taking my fingers so well..."

He praises close to your ear, leaving a slow bite on the earlobe, extremely concentrated on the movements of his own fingers "Open your eyes, look at the mess you're making, or I'll stop"

He demanded on purpose, his voice was soft but you knew he would stop, he could see how difficult it was to keep your eyes open from the pleasure so you forced them to stay like that looking down, his fingers appearing and disappearing inside you in a quick pace, the wetter you stayed, the more the sounds seemed so erotic, the most sloppiest sounds ever, your juices were literally dripping down and wetting his sweatpants by now, which made you a bit embarrassed but he just loved the sight.

"Good girl"

Obviously that sent a wave straight to your core, making you squeeze his fingers tighter inside, which he definitely felt and made him laugh next to your ear "hum, do you like that darling? Of course you do...you like when i praise you huh?" His tone had a bit of mockery but amusement as well, he enjoyed that fact, enjoyed how much power he suddenly had over this, over your body, over your incoming orgasm.

"P-Please...please more...f-faster" you whined between the moans, it wasn't enough to make you reach the edge with the pace his fingers had now, but it was enough to make you cream everything, and the older man decided to give you some relief, thinking that he had already provoked you too much for a first time, and suddenly curved his fingertips, reaching an area he hadn't touched yet, pressing the tip of his fingers on that spongy side against your walls where nobody had ever touched, not even you, and that made almost a wave of pleasure go through all your body that made you bite the hand so you don't moan too loudly.

It felt wonderful, he knew he had found the right place with his hands, that seemed to be so skilled, and soon enough he was pumping his fingers relentlessly, pressing down that place like a button everytime, making you almot putty in his arms, a moaning mess by now, your eyes closed, whimpering incoherent things, the man whispering some sinful things on your hear just to feel you grip his fingers harder because he knew exactly what made you clench your walls, what made your legs shake and you adjust on his lap, and when he started to also press the palm of his hand on your clit...almost made you come right there.

All the sensations were practically overwhelming, you were almost over there, the pressure in your womb a bit too much to hold it in, the wave was coming slightly faster with everything he was doing down there, and he knew it. "You're close, aren't you, pretty girl?" He whispered in a tantalizing way, but you couldn't speak, only moan, mutter a few sweet "please"'s but you shook your head quickly and desperate, that was all he needed to press his palm even more on the most sensitive part between your legs and move the fingers a bit harder, almost making you cry out, shaking all over, on his lap, your breath faultering, it was coming and it was coming hard, you never felt anything like this in your entire life, it wasn't the usual sensation of an orgasm...that time it seemed like it had more.

"Alright, come for me love, come on, you deserve it, you've been such a good girl"

And you didn't have to be told twice, just letting be drive over the edge with his fingers, you moaned louder when the orgasm finally hit, him having to slide his free hand to keep your legs open since you tried closing them by the intensity, but what actually surprised you was seeing you squirt on his hand and his pants, wetting everything, with him groaning and praising you afterwards, and if you thought you were a mess before, you should see it now.

It was so intense that your whole body was shaking, breathing was uneasy, face was red, the body was a little sweaty, while the Brit had a satisfied smile on his lips, his cock stiff in his pants because it was so goddamn hot to watch you unravel with his fingers and on his hold. He kept moving his fingers slowly to let you ride it out your orgasm, and when you finally stopped, spent, he took out his fingers carefully, hearing you whimper because you got a bit sensitive, because of the loss of contact too, not hesitating to simply suck his fingers, humming while he said so "you're delicious love, do you want a taste?"

You just opened your eyes lazily, adjusting your head closer, kissing his lips, gently and calmly, putting his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself there, turning it into a wet kiss but still in a way, careful. He knew you're a bit shaky after what happened, wasn't thinking straight...in fact you weren't exactly thinking at all. It took all his strength to not simply bury his head between your legs to clean you with his tongue, but you were already too sensitive, he did slide his fingers on your folds one last time, which you let out a small sound, almost protesting, his touch wasn't harmful though, he just wanted to taste you a bit more, sucking his fingers glistening again, making your face warm a bit more...jesus, he really enjoyed that...he looked like he had just tasted the sweetest thing ever and he couldn't get enough, you could clearly see on his expression that, the satisfaction after what he has done.

You felt him hard close to your body, and before you made any movement, even if tired, about to help, he quickly adjusted your position carefully and placed you back on the couch, lying down this time. "but...Jens-"

"no, no, everything was about you today, don't worry about me, relax baby, you seem tired" the man said in a soft and calm voice, his accent making your heart flutter a bit.

He got up only to grab your panties and pants, he seemed a bit out of breath...it was kinda intense for him as well, not the same for you of course, but it did made his breath faulter. He made a small caress on your waist while carefully dressing you, your legs were a little wobbly after the orgasm, and he remained there until you seemed to have returned at least a bit to normal, having the hair adjusted by him, slowly, while he looked a bit tenderly, it somewhat made you feel warm and fuzzy inside...it was intense but it had a caring touch. "That was...so good though..." You blurted out, a little embarrassed but with a satisfied smile on your face, your breathing still returning to normal, heart returning to it's normal frequency, and for him, seeing that you enjoyed yourself was more than enough to make him happy.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, darling... because i really, really did" He sent you a wink, making you scoff in a funny way, taking off your hooded sweatshirt with his help because the body was too warm after the activities you just did, staying only with your blouse.

"believe me...i know you did" you joked, both of you laughing relaxedly now, like good friends who clearly seemed to have something going on between them.

"you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He was serious now, eyeing you for an answer, giving him a smile, you just shake your head in a negative way before answering properly.

"No Jense, it was awesome, it did leave me a bit lightheaded, didn't thought it could be that...intense, but i'm okay" you assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze, and only when he saw on your eyes you were actually okay, that he saw you were being sincere. "By the way...i'm sorry about your...pants" you whispered gently, shy when you got a proper glimpse of the big wet spot on his thigh, but he smiles, looking down, rubbing his fingers there.

"You should already know that I don't mind...plus that was sexy as hell" he made a voice deep and sighed like he almost got turned on talking about that, you couldn't help but laugh and turn your head to look away, trying to not stay too shy. "alright! I get it..."

The man arranged a pillow behind your head, lifting your legs so that they were in his lap, starting to deliberately massage there while he watched you, comfortably in silence. Jenson was simply sweet, and it was so good that you didn't even feel like talking about what just happened, about what meant this that both of you did in the heat of the moment, but there wasn't an ounce of regret in him or in you, so maybe it would be better to wait for another day, you' didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment between you two...you didn't felt like you had to question that now...you both shared something intense and intimate, it should be simple...but you'll probably wonder why later.

#imagine #smut #f1 #f1 x reader #jenson button #jenson button smut #jenson button imagine #f1 smut

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mxtheialurks · 15 days ago

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I'm here, baby. Part 1 Part 2

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader. Pairing: Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

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“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you.

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

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

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

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

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star”

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm.

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.

#Patti LuPone #x reader #Hollywood #Avis Amberg x Reader #avis amberg

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thunderzizi · 1 year ago

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ok but zikox has an article on the polish wiki for some reason but it doesn't acknowledge he's actually on the map (i checked it's Only on the polish wiki)

i don't think globu is there at all

you know what might be some of the most obscure rayman characters

the dreamcast version of rayman 2 has this one that just sorta hangs out in the globox village. ill have to use raymap here bc ive only played the pc version

raywiki very offhandedly mentions this one as "an unnamed red adult member of Globox's species" but they DO have a name even if it seems to be only internal. which is Globu

(it might be worth noting here also that uglette's internal name is globette, so globu may not be the actual final name, but im going to consider this as the name because there is nothing else)

globu has 4 states (sort of equivalent to diff animations) and theyre just the random idles that globox also has, minus the clapping. globu has some dialogue as well but its not that interesting. mostly just talks about the minigame things

only other thing to note about globu is they have the weird half mitten hands whereas in this same version of the game both globox and uglette have normal hands. weird

theres ANOTHER character (of the same species!) raywiki offhandedly mentions as "an unnamed yellow baby" which must be this hilarious little guy

who is literally named in (possibly unused???) dialogue. this is zikox whose gimmick is , rapping ?

not only that but theres an exact object on the globox village map that has these same text array strings, you can see them in the screenshot (note that i had to set this specific object to even BE the yellow baby instead of another brainox copy (visually) so its not like. 10000% confirmed they correspond)

i dont know if zikox is just not on the map??? despite, sort of being on the map??? not even as an invisible object hes literally There. at least on raymap. again i havent played the dc version so i dont know whats going on there

anyway yeah heres some two really obscure guys and theyre of course both related to globox in one way or another because i am very biased

i dont know why raywiki thinks neither globu nor zikox deserve articles when they are not above naming characters based entirely on their internal names and its not like most other babies do anything but exist in a hub and a minigame either? idk this wiki is stupid

#rayman #''why were you on the polish wiki you dont even speak polish''#Well you see. i heard romeo patti swears and drinks in that one and i wanted to confirm #and then i realized that the polish wiki has a bunch of like speculation so i started reading it (through the firefox translation extension #and also enjoying the errors of machine translation such as every teensie ever being ''the little girls''

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opera-ghosts · 4 hours ago

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Mme. Marcella Sembrich, whose successes as a star of the opera were followed by widely hailed achievements as the mentor of singers after her retirement in 1909 from the Metropolitan and from the concert stage in 1916, died at 8 A. M. yesterday in her home, 151 Central Park West. She was 76 years old. She had been ill since last Nov. 15, with her condition becoming progressively worse as she lost strength. For the last few days death, which was attributed to emphysema and heart complications, had been hourly imminent. So widely was she known, however, not only in New York City but also in other cities of the United States and abroad, that the foreknowledge of the end did not dim the shock of her passing. Persons who called at or telephoned to her home yesterday forenoon for| news of her condition were in-'| formed of her death, and then to)! the apartment began a steady succession of messages of condolence and of callers to express their grief.

Son Present at the End. Recently, Mme. Sembrich had been in such a weak condition that she had received no callers. With her at the time of her death were her son, William Marcel Stengel, and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Juliette Stengel. Her husband, Wilhelm Stengel, died in 1917. She had no other close relatives in the) United States. Until the onset of her illness she had remained actively at work as a. teacher. During the Summer she) had conducted the school she had maintained for a number of seasons at Lake George, N. Y. Many satudents got instruction there from her | rich store of operatic accomplishment.

New York in October and took up her residence in her apartment,which overlooked , Central Park. She went forward as usual with her teaching. Since her illness, however, which at first took the form of asthma and interfered seriously | with her breathing, all of her contact with her students had been curtailed. To conserve her strength, the utmost quiet was prescribed by her physician, Dr. Charles Goodman Taylor. Friends said yesterday, however, that her advanced ace had from the first made her, illnes a matter of serious concern to them. : Her teaching contacts previously had been linked both with the Juilliard School of Music here, and) with the Curtis School in Philadelphia. She was a director of the, latter institution until last year, and was the recipient of a degree of Doctor of Music for her work there. In accordance with what was understood to be a wish of Mme. Sembrich, and of her family, the funeral services will be simple. The services, it was announced, will be held at 3 P. M. tomorrow in St.Patrick’s Cathedral. There will be. no special music, other than that, by the boys’ choir of the cathedral. The place of burial was not made known.

Active pallbearers were announced as Cornelius N. Bliss, Serge Rachmaninoff, Josef Hofmann, Ernest Hutcheson, Ernest Schelling, Frank Ia Forge, Wilfred Pelletier, André de Coppet, Walter Damrosch, Antonio Scotti, H. H. Flagler, W. J. Henderson, Richard Aldrich, Emilio de Gogorza, Edward Ziegler, Adolfo) Betti, Efrem Zimbalist and Paul D. Cravath. | Honorary pallbearers will be Giulio Gatti-Casazza, John Erskine, Francis Rogers, Alexander Siloti, Ugo Ara, Dr. W. H. Haskin, Adolph S. Ochs, Alfred Pochon, Rubin Goldmark, Sigismund Stojowski and Dr. J. A. Taylor.

When Marcella Sembrich sang her |farewell to opera on Feb. 6, 1909,her voice was young and beautiful. The final rise of the curtain that | night revealed her enthroned on | the Metropolitan Opera House) stage. Grouped about her was every member of the Metropolitan Opera Company. Facing her was an audience that filled every foot of floor space from the doors to the roof. Gifts were piled high beside her throne and great masses of flowers | stretched into shadows far down. the stage. “It is because I like the sun best | when it is high,’’ she said, in ex- | planation of her retirement. ‘‘It is | better that I leave when every one is asking ‘why?’ than later when. my ability might be less.’’ * She was then within nine days) of being 51 years old. She had | reigned at the Metropolitan for| more than a generation; she had/| typified for three decades here and| abroad the highest perfection of| bel canto singing. Just as Mme. Adelina Patti had done before her, she had kept alive the old traditions of Italian song, and with Melba she had carried on to increasingly greater heights the traditions of the old Italian mastery of the voice. She had found success early and it had lasted long. In her bright career was no place for anticlimax. She never could recall a time when music was not the chief interest of her life. There were piano lessons when she was 4 years old; lessons on the violin two years later. After she had developed a remarkable ability on both instruments recognition of her extraordinarily appealing and expressive colorature soprano voice came when she was 15. So she had, as Franz Liszt told her, ‘‘three pairs of wings to fly with through the land of music.”” ‘‘But sing,” he had ordered, ‘‘sing for the world, for you have the voice of an angel.’’ Music, poverty and endless work made up her childhood. She was born Praxede Marcelline Kochanska on Feb. 15, 1858, in the hamlet of Wizniewczyk, Galicia, Poland. Her father, Kasimir Kochanski, one of fourteen children of a tanner, had run off and joined a military band. Leaving to marry, he had learned to play all the musical instruments and was able to make a passable living by his skill.

The family made up a home quartet. Her mother, whose maiden name was Sembrich, played second violin, her brother first violin, the father a ‘cello and Marcelline the piano. They wandered about seeking pupils. As the daughter grew older she played piano to her father’s violin in the homes of the minor nobility and rich townsfolk, Always very poor, they had to borrow the scores of Haydn and Mozart, and the daughter worked by candlelight, copying the parts. She was 12, alert and confident, a self-supporting artist—she lived very cheap—when she met her first patron. A wandering singer of folk-songs, Father Lanovich, liked her instrumental accomplishments so much he helped her to enter the conservatory at Lemberg. In three years one Wilhelm Stengel, instructor of piano, taught her all he had to teach. He took her to Liszt and the great man talked of her wings. He gained her a hearing wit: Epstein, who accepted her as a student of piano and to Helmesberger, under whom she studied the violin. He took her to Rochitansky, in Vienna, under whom she _ studied voice. Then, when she was 19 years old and ready for her début he married That year of her début and marriage, 1877, she wintered in Milan, learning from the younger Lamperti that Italian ‘‘bel canto’’ which she was later to make her special art. To Milan then as now came impresarios seeking singers. Marcelline had two offers. One would have taken her to Tiflis, across the Black Sea. The other called to Athens and she accepted it. The night of her début was June 3, 1877. It was very hot; the opera was at Phaleron by the sea. The King entered the royal box and the opera, “‘I Puritani,’’ started. The new singer was well received, but ee was no great sensation about it.

In the next year advisers on her musical career worked. over her name and molded it into Marcella Sembrich. She appeared as Sembrich at the Saxon Royal Opera at Dresden and had an immediate and tremendous success. A two-year engagement in Dresden followed.

Then she made her London début at Covent Garden in 1880. It was in ‘Lucia’? and the critics reported that London was dazzled by her vocalization. A season of grand opera in Madrid followed directly and then the first of fifteen seasons in St. Petersburg and Moscow. Those were great days for the opera. The gracious applause of royalty was important and thrilling then. The young singer had much of it. Orders and decorations and royal gifts began overwhelming her. But in 1883 she left Europe for New York.

She came in stirring times. A war was on between the old and the rew. Insurgents from the old citathe Academy of Music, had joined with considerable recent wealth to build the Metropolitan Opera House, familiarly known As the ‘‘White Elephant,’’ where every one with enough money could sit in a box and show off gowns and jewels. Adelina Patti was retained by the old; Christine Nilsson by the new. | Marcella Sembrich, then only 25) years old, rated next to Nilsson in| in “‘Lucia,’’ the second opera it, gave, and sang Patti’s roles. By the end of the season the critics could find no praise too She was not, of coursé, favored above Patti. When Patti Sang the Academy was two-thirds For Patti was was Queen of But Marcella Sembrich did make a real place for herself. Her great night of that first year was April 21, 1884. Henry E. Abbey, impresario for the Metropolitan, had found hard going that first year. He had gambled on exrensive productions and lost heav‘- .. A benefit was given for him. The littl. girl whose father could play all the instruments in the band showed off her three pairs of wings. She sang an aria from ‘“‘La Sonnambula,’” she played a nocturne by Chopin and furnished the violin obbligato to Gounod’s ‘‘Ave Maria,’’- sung bv Miss Nilsson. One critic the next day described her as a “‘meteor in a galaxy of More Singing Lessons, England and many long tours of the Continent followed. She appeared in opera and concerts in St. Petersburg, Moscow, Warsaw, Berlin, Paris, Madrid and lesser capitals, sharing the first honors of Italian opera with the most distinguished artists of her generation and with the great ones who had been famous when she was still playing for dances in Galicia. In 1897 she came back to America for a concert tour, and in ovember, 1898, rejoined the Metropolitan Opera Company. In the Metropolitan’s répertoire she made the operas of the florid Italian school inevitable. In the succeeding seasons she lost none of her vocal powers. Several stars of the last generation made their debuts by her side. She reappeared as Gilda on Nov. 23, 1903, for Caruso’s American début as the Duke in ‘‘Rigoletto’’ and she sang with him in his first successes. There were several reasons why she retired in 1909, when her career was at zenith, when she was winning the operatic honors and popularity that were to be equaled only by Caruso. One was that fashions in opera had changed. In her younger days, as she put it, you just came out In your nicest evening frock and sang. But by 1909 the dramatic opera had pretty much taken the place of lyric opera and she found that while the public had once wanted to hear only the old operas sung over and over again, they then wanted ‘‘a new role every week.’’

For some years. after retirement from opera she continued in concert tours both here and abroad. ‘“‘Gradually,’’ she had said in re-calling the period, “I began to feel the desire of transmitting to the younger generation of today the art that I had learned so thoroughly. and practiced so long.’’ After the death of her husband in 1917 she withdrew entirely from the public platform and devoted her time and energy exclusively to teaching. Aspirants came to her and she selected and labored over the most promising. Stars of the Metropolitan and other companies came also; ‘‘for inspiration,’’ they always said, but Sembrich’s aides ‘the ichestra, she appealed to the public knew they were seeking perfection. When the Juilliard Foundation was established in New York and the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia she was called to head the departments of voice. In the succeeding years at New York, Philadelphia and at her estate in Lake George pupils from all over the world assembled for her tutelage. She gave many stars to the musical | firmament. Her most. successful pupils included Dusolina Giannini, Queena Mario, Alma Gluck, Hulda Lashanska, Harriet van Emden, Ethyl Hayden, Florence Page Kimball and many others. Her great hope in the last few years of her life was that America should have a national opera— opera through a movement that should reach out to every part of the country, bringing to the nation the culture that goes hand in hand with musical development. It would utilize American talent and its productions would be entirely in English. It was on behalf of this movement that she appealed to the public béginning in 1930 when the depression threatened the American opera. First her efforts were in behalf of the American Opera Company. Then she returned to the stage of the Metropolitan on Feb. 26, 1933, at the jubilee stage show, and begged her old friends to help the Metropolitan, urging the company and its followers to ‘‘carry on.”’

For the Metropolitan, as well as Philharmonic-Symphony Oragain on her seventy-sixth birthday on Feb. 15, 1934. Paderewski, her friend of many years’ standing, sent her the following message on this birthday: ‘‘Most affectionate. wishes and greetings to the greatest and noblest artist and friend, from Paderewski."’ Except for such occasions, and in addition her chairmanship of the Polish-American Relief Fund during the war, she remained in retirement from the public eye. But in the world of music, even to her last days, retirement was not for her. She occupied a position in American music such as Liszt had in the Weimar days. Musical notables came to her studio, her ‘“‘trophy room,” as she called it. Surrounded by mementos of Brahms, Verdi, Rubinstein, Gounod, Thomas, Paderewski, Modjeska, Joachim and Clara Schumann and others of the great artists who had worshiped her talent, she was sought for the gospel of perfection with which she inspired fellow-musicians. In those last years most of her time was spent in America, her Winters in the apartment facing Central Park, replete with cherished reminders of her lifelong triumphs; her Summers at Lake George at the estate she had established with her husband and teacher, and-to which they used to repair in the early days of her retirement. She was one of the really great personalities in the music world, one of the great ones whose sun was always high.

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janeeyrewannabe · 3 months ago

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Drabble about simon’s sick sick mind

wc: <500

I think Simon is such a freak about getting a boner, the absolute most mundane things would get him hard. Like watching patty put on her colorful tights, and the way her brow furrows when she's in the zone writing a song, or watching her paint her nails. Patty is actually discombobulated at the last one, how the fuck is her black nail polish with chunky glitter turning him on? He says some stupid shit like he can imagine the way that color would look wrapped around his cock. The contrast of the two makes him go insane, her dark and sparkly nails compared to his pink and wet tip. Patty's tight grip around him, fingertips barely touching, squeezing a little harder as she moves closer to his flushed tip. Thumb covered in little metallic stars swiping at his most sensitive spot. He’s watching her hand move in a smooth rhythm like he's in a trance.

Also watching her chew on a pen. It reminds him of when she's on her knees and her teeth keep grazing his length a little because (in her words) its gets really tiring having your jaw open wide like your at the world’s most demanding dentist. Or when she's flailing around listens to her records because she reacts the same way when he's got his head in between her legs. Pulling at his hair like she wants to rip it out. When his nose hits the right spot on her clit he's got to hold down on her hips because she's writhing around like a maniac.

Some other things i think he likes: watching patty tie her shoes, smelling her strawberry banana shampoo when she walks by, chipped nail polish, her bad jokes, and the way her shirt rides up a little when she gets up to pull the string on the bus.

Tell me if u guys like this because I kind of hate it a lot

#kyle gallner #emily skeggs #dinner in america #simon dia #patty dia #simon x patty #patty x simon #dia

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overstuffd · 5 months ago

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Taking you out to a - unbeknownst to you - feeder cinema.

'It's amazing!' I tell you. 'They have waiter service right to the seats - and I got us a great deal. We're going to watch a marathon of classic stoner movies and we get dinner and unlimited snacks. Doesn't that sound perfect?'

Without thinking your hand goes to your growing pot belly. You kept saying you need to take it easy on indulging your appetite for greasy food - but your gut rumbles in response.

After a moment's hesitation, you agree that it sounds like fun. I smile, hungrily.

They're stoner comedies, so of course I get you stoned beforehand. Plenty of bong hits before we head out, encouraging you to hit my vape on the -thankfully- short walk to the movie theatre.

When we get there, the staff are so delighted to see you. They explain that you'll be served one course of dinner between each of the four movies and there'll be a midnight feast at the end. In the meantime, help yourself to the snack table.

Snack table hardly does it justice - there's a huge buffet set up with every kind of appetiser you can think of. I encourage you to go through to the theatre and get comfy in your seat while I fix you a plate.

The seats are really two person couches, with soft looking pillows to prop ourselves up on. They're pretty well sized, but with your thicker thighs you realise we'll be pressed close together.

You get settled, and I show up with your pre-dinner snack. If you weren't so stoned you'd say it seemed like a lot. Your plate is stacked with mozzarella sticks, garlic bread and mac and cheese, all of them geneorusly portioned out for you by me.

As it is though your munchies are kicking in hard, so you accept the plate and start eating. Before the film starts one of the attendents comes by and smiles as they place a bucket sized soda cup and extra large popcorn next to our seat, on your side naturally. I already let them know your favourite candies, and they're mixed through the popcorn, the chocolate gently melting in the still warm kernels.

The film starts, and soon you're snorting with laughter like a dumbass at the cheesy jokes and slap stick. Your mouth is dry from the smoking and all the salty food, so you end up chugging your soda hard, but whenever it starts running low one of the attentive staff is there with a replacement.

The same happens with your popcorn, you're only halfway through before your carton is replaced with a fresh batch. It makes it hard to keep track of what you're eating, but between the snack plate and the endlessly refilling bag you're pretty sure you've already had what most people would consider a meal.

It's hard to concentrate on that though, because the first movie is over and it's time for appetisers to be served. You almost don't believe me when I say you haven't even had the first course yet.

Before you put up too much of a fuss though I hand you my vape - no, the staff won't mind I promise - and you relax again, especially when I offer you a pair of gummy edibles to kick in during the movie.

I took the liberty of ordering for you, and you're already faded by the time your heaping pile of nachos arrive, loaded with cheese, guacamole, sour cream, hot salsa, jalapenos and brisket. The spiciness hits your sensitised pallet hard, but there's always more soda to soothe it.

The second movie has started now, and as it plays you polish off your nachos, and most of my order of onion rings once I pass it over.

At some point, your soda cup is replaced with an extra-large cold beer, but you chug that down just as happily, your mind getting floatier with every gulp.

At the end of the second movie the main courses arrive, and you try and tap out. The greasy, double-patty burger is huge, even ignoring the massive side of fries and slaw. The attendents have bought you mug sized tubs of spicy mayo, creamy burger sauce and barbecue to help everything slip down easily, but even so.

You turn to me, your eyes big as the third film starts to roll. I pretend to be sympathetic, but my words are the last thing you want to hear. 'Oh, poor thing! Are you too out of it to eat your dinner even though you're so hungry?'

You try to put together a protest but forming a whole sentence is beyond you at this point, so you flop backwards and let me slowly feed you the burger and sides, holding the dripping handfuls to your mouth until you take a bite and then pushing salty fries in afterwards. When you slow too much I push my vape into your mouth again and the new rush of haziness gives you another burst of energy.

You don't remember anything that happens in the third film, just the growing heat between your legs as your waistband presses harder and harder into your stomach.

The final break - dessert. I get up from our seat, and even if you'd been able to speak you didn't think to ask where I was going, your mind completely preoccupied with the pressure in your belly.

When I come back though, you've realised there's a sundae bar in the lobby that I've visited on your behalf. A huge bowl of softserve, another bucket really, smothered in caramel and chocolate sauce, peanuts, cookie crumb and whipped cream.

Your stoamch audibly groans when you see it, but you're so docile you let me push more than a few spoonfuls between your lips before you start turning your face away, struggling even to move that much.

You're expecting me to grow more forecful, but instead I set the icecream aside and pay attention to your straining gut, undoing your pants (you sigh in relief, they were moments away from bursting) and rubbing slow circles on your belly. My hand dips lower as I make lazy circles and you moan appreciatively, way too far gone to care about embarassing yourself in public.

The film is drawing to a close, the lovable losers have completed their stoner quest, and you're getting close to finishing too. Once you're frantically grinding against my fingers, though, I pull away, and suddenly the icecream bucket is back at your lips.

No spoon now, the softserve has melted into a thick and creamy shake mined with sweetness. I part your lips and tilt the bucket so it pours into your mouth. Youf flabby mind can think of only one defence against choking on it so you swallow, slowly, painfully, your overstretched stomach straining at the additional pressure.

The credits of the movie are rolling and you're almost finished with your shake - and my hand is back between your legs, rougher than before.

I've been training you to come when your stomach is straining, so I up the speed as you take your last mouthful and you finish over my fingers.

I ruffle your hair and wipe a little icecream off your cheek as I coo at what a good job you did for me.

The staff are in no rush for us to leave, which is good because you can't stand right now.

Instead they leave the lights low as I gently rub your eager belly, enjoying the deep rumbles as you start digesting your enormous meal.

When you've recovered a little I'll walk you to the car - and maybe if you're good we can get drive through on the way home.

#feeder kink #weight gain kink #wg text #feedee encouragement #getting fatter #fat encouragement #fat admirer #getting bigger #stuffd posts #intox kink #intox #wg fiction #wg story #getting fatter on purpose #gaining weight on purpose #secret feeder #public stuffing #stuffing

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