#is the original melody I covered
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morelikesin · 2 months ago
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The night was brilliantly clear. The world was dark, painted black and a velvet blue, generously dappled with sparkling stars which glowed as pinpricks of light amidst an endless sea: guided by the pathway of norðrljós glowing green, violet, and teal leading up to the skies from the Earth. The air was clean, cold, and held kind, gentle winds.
The night was quiet. It was still.
The world was peaceful.
Hands tight around their own shoulders, cold fingers squeezing skin - the desperate warmth covering them from a hand they could not remember both a respite and a sorrow - they held onto themselves as their mind was holding on to the memories of something else; something so long ago.
Upon the summit of the Throat of the World, they wept.
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A composite of a screenshot from my game I painted over and color adjusted; linked is my vocals taken for this point in the story.
Audio is also under the cut for ease of access.
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neon-catarina · 1 year ago
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couldn't a reason Mind and Heart hate each other be because of whole's love interest (sung in Haiku and Hidden In The Sand), like how Whole really liked them, but he thought that they would never love him, so basically his Heart wanted to ask them out and pursue a relationship, but his Mind refused thinking they would never love him. And its mostly because of that Whole split into three in the first place, so they both blame each other for it, and that's why they hate each other?
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ljungbergmadde · 1 year ago
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Some Melding Melody sketches of the day!
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get-back-homeward · 2 years ago
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listening to john lennon’s cover of chuck berry’s you can’t catch me
and my brain mindlessly drifts to come together
and I do a double take
y’all it’s the same song
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aoharushiyo · 2 years ago
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next step / piece a part [eng translation]
TITLE: Next Step ARTIST: ピースアパート (Piece A Part)     高生紳士 (Takao Shinji)     水凪自由 (Minagi Jiyou)     小日向りゅーじ (Kohinata Ryuuji)     二代目・赤 (Nidaime Aka)     紺野和泉 (Konno Izumi)     彩音れおん (Ayane Leon)     星乃歌カズ (Hoshinouta Kaz)     ヨシヅキ参謀 (Yoshizuki Sunbow) SONG PRODUCTION: VEEMusic MIX: つこ (tuko) OFFICIAL MV: (from youtube)
ENG:
The future is about to change…
We saw a distant rainbow in the clearing sky the day that our respective paths crossed
Grasping our different-coloured pieces in our hands, we're aiming beyond the dreams we believed in
Linked together by the strength of the deep bonds between our souls, we're sworn friends, soulmates who'll freely spread our wings together
That's why we'll take you to a place where the sun shines The first step is putting a smile on your face We pieces of coloured melodies will shine light on you If we're with you, then no matter where we go, we'll continue to shine even brighter, reflecting the radiance of our present
Making mistakes and butting heads might be inevitable, but we've only grown stronger with everything we've overcome
Even though we might have let countless tears fall, our unceasing laughter will overflow yet even more
And despite all of our detours and standstills, we've found the spring from where our rainbow-coloured start line begins
Ever-present are the "thank you"s we feel from our hearts We might not be able to say it honestly; it's embarrassing, after all, but we'll weave it into our song with a harmony that radiates brilliance We'll leave a trace of our existence right here The fact that our hands are linked will never change
There's no other place where we can be our true selves, so, no matter how many years pass, a piece of us will always, always be a part of you
That's why we'll take you to a place where the sun shines The first step is putting a smile on your face We pieces of coloured melodies will shine light on you If we're with you, then no matter where we go, we'll continue to shine even brighter because we were so fortunate to have met you
JPN:
動きだす未来
あの日見ていた 遠くの虹 晴れ渡る空 それぞれの道が重なる
僕ら信じた夢の向こうへと 色違いのピースを握って
深い絆によって結ばれた 魂の盟友(ソウルメイト)自由に羽ばたけ
だから 陽のあたる場所まで君を連れてく 最初の一歩 笑顔を贈ろう 君の人生を彩る音のかけら どんなことも 一緒ならば 輝きをましていく 映しだす今
すべてが上手くいくわけもなく ぶつかり合って その度に強くなってきた
落ちた雫の数以上に 絶え間なく溢れる笑い声
遠回りや足踏みもしたけど 見つけた泉 虹のスタートライン
いつも "ありがとう"って心で感じて 素直に言えない 照れくさいけれど 歌に乗せてキラメキを放つハーモニー ここに刻もう 僕らの証 繋いだ手は変わらない
僕が僕で居られる場所 他にないよ ずっとずっと 何年経ったとしても 永遠のピース
だから 陽のあたる場所まで君を連れてく 最初の一歩 笑顔を贈ろう 君の人生を彩る音のかけら どんなことも 一緒ならば 輝きをましていく 巡り逢うから
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st5lker · 2 years ago
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this is still the best vocaloid/utau cover everrrr btw like this is the one cover more than any other one im like 'this may as well be the original'
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beardedhandstoadshark · 3 months ago
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Which of your lovely OCs sound like a gremlin but sings like an angel?
The only ocs I'm sure could sing are Yellow, Violet, and Aoi, who's the only gremlin, but she doesn't sound like one, y'know? It's closer to a less blubbery Inkling voice. Would totally say Woomy when exited. 100% sings like an angel though (or rather a siren in her case? XD)
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intheholler · 9 months ago
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the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!
my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.
nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned
so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).
they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!
as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.
the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.
they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.
naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.
so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.
305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.
while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.
perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).
but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.
(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)
so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.
it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.
but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.
a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.
in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.
men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.
her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.
as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.
meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.
but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting
i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.
(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)
in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.
anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.
it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.
but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."
in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.
how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?
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firefly-ace · 1 month ago
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-𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙃𝘾𝙨-
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who definitely gives off older brother core
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who def has a youtube channel with like a good 3K subs with gaming content of like Minecraft, PubG, probably RDR2
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who most definitely owns the most dorkiest themed boxers and socks, eg: space,dinosaurs, etc.
(you bought her Savage Starlight themed boxers one time for her birthday, she was overjoyed and it’s her favorite pair.)
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie has a somewhat diverse music taste, ranging from dad rock: pearl jam, AC/DC, Fleetwood Mac (def bc of Joel), Midwest-Emo: mom jeans, The Front Bottoms, Mcafferty, and punk: The Sick Habit, The Clash, Blink-182. but she does occasionally dabbles in Duster
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who whenever you go out, draws on the napkins they give you, sometimes if they’re really good she’ll put them up on the fridge
(Often times she just sketches you tho)
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie LOVES complimenting you and is js always awestruck at what she pulled
you’ll just be chilling on the couch and look up to be met with her eyes, her expression turning shy and bashful once she realizes you noticed.
“What?” , you’ll playfully smile at her.
“Nothing.” she’ll smile back at you. “You’re just…. really pretty.”
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who is either an aerospace engineering major or illustration
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who absolutely LOVES it when you sit in her lap when she plays video games; dropping all the lore of the game like she’s matpat
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who isn’t the huge stoner that everyone depicts her as, more so a gummy or three on a friday evening
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie posts only faceless guitar covers and the occasional original melody on tt but she would absolutely rather DIE than sing in them
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who sends you cute couple or cartoon or animal videos with the little “us!!”
⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who sends you the dumbest fucking ass memes. like they’re not even funny but you’ll hear her CACKLING from a different room
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ loser!ellie who has a cute little messenger bag with pins on it where she carries around her sketchbook
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a/n: that’s it, sorry it was so short😓 first official writing post ayeee they were gonna turn freaky but i didn’t have enough freaky ones so it doesn’t look out of pocket
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dobbie-doo · 25 days ago
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˗ˏˋ ꒰JUST A LITTLE BIT OLDER꒱ ˎˊ˗ ballader
You know it's wrong. You know it, and yet you melt in his cold hands.
✧ warnings — MDNI + smut ! fem ! reader, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, scara has a dick, finger stimulation,, pet names : "Persephone" + "my dear", some fanon ! Scara, long foreplay, !! cringe !! sex with feelings and a quote at the end.. Sсara is 500 years older than the reader, so so… ✧ minors do not interact. !! ✧ a/n —I love this song (Isabel LaRosa - older) , so I'm writing a fic,, drawing inspiration from a pathetic fragment of the song. Originally, another work was supposed to come out, it's already started, but I decided that it doesn't fit the atmosphere, so… I'll finish it later.. 💋
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With cold palms he goes down to your sunken belly, outlining the silhouette with his long, aesthetically thin fingers, and presses on your belly under the navel, forcing you to let out a loud sigh that fills the coastal silence in the bedroom.
Scaramouche is now a puppet master, and you are just a fool..
The divine puppet covers your thin neck with tangible, cold kisses that contrast brightly with your skin, heated with arousal. His kisses should cause you fear, disgust.. But you are silent, you enjoy. Scaramouche stops his deceptively gentle caresses, only to meet your eyes, his gaze is sly, but at the same time gentle..
You can't lie here..You admit to yourself that this puppet is incredibly beautiful, with eyes of a flawless shade - His eyes are like lightning, sparkling in the dark sky, a rich indigo shade that fascinates and attracts the gaze. Sparks of blue slip through them, as if in the depths of the ocean, where light breaks through the thickness of the water.. When he looks at you, it seems that time stops, and the whole world around loses its significance.
Scaramouche, chuckling, slowly intertwined your hand with his, bringing it up, above your head. You seem to get lost in the vastness when his other hand presses on your cheeks to force you to open your mouth, and you, of course, obey. In another kiss, you are caressing each other with your lips excitedly, colliding with your tongues, which migrate from one mouth to another, until the oxygen in your lungs runs out, Balladeer, as if feeling how you are suffocating, slowly moves away from you, smiling, What weak people are.. And even sweet in spite of, he thought.
"Every moment next to you is like a sweet sin that I want to repeat."
"You are my personal hell, into which I dive with pleasure."
You swallow nervously from these phrases, at first glance, these phrases should evoke tenderness and affection, and so it would be, if you did not know Scaramouche well enough.
You want to rise up, to bestow tenderness on his body above you, but the puppet does not give permission, whispers warm words in your ear, convincing that there is no need for that, of course, he is much older, more skilled, the puppet has lived a long life to know all the dark and pleasant corners of human lust. His hand, in the usual black glove on the wrists, with a purple puppet joint that shines so much in the dark bedroom - slides to your thigh, gently stroking. You are in love with his hands.. beautiful, strong, which you can’t tell at first glance.
"In your breath I feel the wind of change.. You are trembling so.. Is it from fear? Or from desire?"
And you are silent.. You do not answer, only moan uncontrollably, writhing under him, the Marionette makes a mocking hum, shaking his head, slightly waving his beautifully ironed blue hair.
"Hmm.. I thought so"
Your knees are shaking when Scaramouche spreads them apart, settling himself more comfortably between them, Scaramouche playfully clings to your right nipple with the pads of his fingers, in response he receives your moan, presses lightly on your pearl, caresses it with a circular motion, and enjoys your first full-fledged moans, playing a melody in his ears. He squeezes your second nipple between his thumb and middle finger, pulls it out experimentally - making sure that it does not hurt you, so that only pleasure splashes in your eyes. And you, not knowing where to place your limbs, so carefully hug Scaramouche's back with your legs. - He smiles. How charming you are.
Your left bud is in his mouth: Scaramouche licks, sucks carefully, forcing your hands to touch his shoulders. He torments your young body sweetly, with his skillful tongue and graceful lips. He wants a deep kiss - but he does not allow himself to raise his head, he retreats back to caresses, because it is too pleasant, it is impossible to tear yourself away, he wants to please you more and more.
Scaramouche is surprisingly incredible in his tenderness, bordering on frantic rudeness; all his actions are neat, thoughtful at first, but as soon as you react somehow, he begins to bite your lips playfully, squinting his fox-like eyes - he presses harder, strokes more noticeably.
You can't breathe when Scaramouche covers your lips, you respond to his kiss invariably, and you delightedly catch the fuse opposite, realizing that soon both of you will burn to ashes, both will turn to ashes. Only ashes.
"I love you," you blurted out as if in delirium, and again you reach for a new kiss, into which Scaramouche smiles with fangs.
"You are now mine, dear, until your very end," and this is much better than the insipid "me too"
The inside of your thigh is attacked by his lips, he kisses you with a loud smacking sound, and you are embarrassed by this, because in your thin underwear the excitement is clearly visible, which smears the fabric of your panties with natural lubrication. Scaramouche, finally settling between your legs, leaving the last kiss on the inside of your thigh, notices your "wet" excitement and praises you for it lovingly, looks piercingly, accompanying his gaze with a frivolous bite, and then the puppet unexpectedly presses his lips to your clitoris organ behind the thin, wet fabric, to which the reaction follows immediately: You shudder, groaning loudly, and your legs at the knees bend in convulsions. Your whole body is a solid erogenous zone; wherever Scaramouche touches, wherever he kisses, your body's responsiveness to every movement is colossal.
Prelude, prelude… stretched out for hours, pushing you to the edge time after time, and then returning to the starting point, returning, Scaramouche teases, mocks, does not let you finish. And you can no longer stand it - you whine shamelessly, you reach for the elastic on your underwear, but they squeeze your wrist, Scaramouche looks at you sternly, and you recognize this look.. Usually he looks at his subordinates like this, or some ordinary stupid people, and when you catch this same look on yourself, you involuntarily want to shrink back.. Scaramouche throws your hand back roughly, does not allow you to take control.
"Let me…" Scaramouche whispers, his gaze softening and he grins cruelly when he sees your obedience.
And you are still lying on the bed, your legs spread apart with force, you surrender to the excitement that is covering you. Scaramouche circles your virgin entrance with his middle finger, and presses very tenderly, you tremble feverishly, frown slightly, but you ask him to continue, because you want more.
Scaramouche touches your cheek with his free hand, stroking it with his thumb, kisses it softly, Scaramouche again makes his way into your tender entrance with two fingers, moving them rhythmically, smiling from the squelching sounds below, and your feminine moans.
"That's it, my Persephone, make those silly sounds for me, show me how you like it.. Show me how good my movements make you feel!
With your moans, and the feeling of wetness and tenderness of your flesh, which is squeezed around his fingers, Scaramouche feels how something begins to harden in his pants.. Hah, and he even forgot about his satisfaction, although, he does not even need it.. But he can not leave his woman in such a position, when she is already ready to give him her purity.. innocence. And he grins, how stupid you had to be to decide to give such a precious thing - your virginity, to a man like him.
You gasp when his fingers are replaced by a member, gracefully curved, and with a purple tip shining, half immersed in your pulsating heat. You scream loudly, letting the tears fall, and Scaramouche almost even vulnerablely presses himself against you, licks the tracks of your salty tears, and whispers in your ear tirelessly about how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are and how incredible. You promise him eternity, swear fidelity with all your being, and firmly say that you will never betray him.. And Scaramouche admits to himself that he wants to believe it.
His thrusts are slow, excruciatingly slow and rough, you can't breathe. At one point you even start to move your hips in response to his thrusts, and Scaramouche throws your leg over his shoulder, crashing into you at a new angle.
The slapping of skin on skin seems loud and vulgar, your loud moans and his quiet growl are lost in the depths of your apartment, and you involuntarily think that you are happy at this very moment. The man you love, exalted by you, looks like a work of art from above you, carved from marble as if by the archons themselves: his body, slender, beautiful, is hidden under the thinnest black turtleneck without sleeves with the golden emblem of the Shogunate on his chest; your man's face is unrealistically beautiful, it is incomparable to anything previously seen, it shines against the background of any celebrity in Teyvat and, in general, it cannot even be compared with the stars in the sky, because it is many times more beautiful. A lot can be said about your beloved, but is it worth it while his dick is pounding into you, tearing more and more moans from your lips?
"Ah..Kabukimono.."
Hearing his first name, pronounced from your lips, Scaramouche seemed to break loose - he began to move his hips into you harder, more passionately, more roughly, wanting to give you pleasure that you had never experienced before, you moaned in his ear so unbridled, loudly, that Scaramouche involuntarily shrank and even hissed, but did not stop pressing himself so close to you and did not slow down your thrusts.
"A-ahhhh..Kabu..Please.."
"Hmm? What are you mumbling about? Didn't you want to be mine completely? Now take me properly my Persephone"
Balladeer looked insanely pleased, fanatical in his desire to destroy and break your body, so that it could only twitch and tremble in endless orgasms, while the room was again filled with his beloved silence.
Real madness.. From the pain you have only an unpleasant memory, and the convulsions in your body are no longer from suffering - you feel too good, the feelings are too bright. It's as if you're burning before his eyes, your consciousness is losing you, already slipping away with every new wave of pleasure and with every cry that escapes your lips.
You seem to catch falling stars with your eyes when you bring your knees together and lose yourself uncontrollably and in orgasm.
And finally, he stops his thrusts and carefully pulls out of you, you're lying on the wet bed, you're all flushed, sweaty, and the balladeer doesn't give a damn! - not even a drop of sweat on him.. Scaramouche breaks away from you and slowly rises above you, his eyes gazing into every hollow of your body, every breath, every movement.
"Hmh..hmm? Hah.."
His gaze stops on a barely noticeable red spot between your legs, further testifying to the fact that you are now his. He lovingly strokes your ribs with his cold hands. Your bitten lips twisted into a satisfied smile, your head was spinning from a mixture of defamine and adrenaline.. So good..
"Are you cold, my dear?" Scaramouche softly pressed his lips to your temple when you nodded shyly, bringing your legs together. Scaramouche carefully put the sheet on you, ruffling your hair. Feeling how your consciousness slowly falls asleep, you calmly fall into the kingdom of Morpheus. Scaramouche, watching you, thought "what a wonderful creature", And even, not afraid of his thoughts, Scaramouche lay down next to you, looking at your relaxed face with awe and obsession, quietly saying;
"In a room full of art, I would still look at you.."
✧ Even the most terrible person, on the most beautiful night, says the most beautiful words..
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@himasgod @shyentsfoundherink
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court-of-constellations · 9 months ago
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@erraticpasttime
@crows-sorrows
@gecemi09
you know why I tagged you
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amorchai · 1 month ago
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𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.
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original post was 835 notes.
pairing(s): harry styles x reader
words: 842
warnings/tags: r being sick, established relationship.
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you’re guided towards the bottom row of seats, the arena empty as it awaited the company of thousands of fans to sing their heart out to your boyfriend’s music. there’s a soft woven blanket tucked beneath your chin, fists keeping it in your grasp as you settle down onto one of the plastic chairs, watching harry as the low tune of ‘matilda’ plays.
his hair is askew, messy brown strands collected in a short pony atop his head along with a comfortable pair of joggers and loose t-shirt to contrast his sparkly outfit in hours to come. you loved harry for who he was, himself on stage and allowing people to be who they are completely. dressed in pinks, covered in skirts. but you also loved this side of him – behind the scenes, swollen face from his previous nap and entirely calm. collected.
you felt like it was a wattpad moment, when harry spotted you in the distance, eyes connecting to yours. only he was already your boyfriend, going through soundcheck, seeing you in the lonely arena and not amidst a crowd. but with his dorky smile and extended hand aimed in your direction it didn’t make a difference to you, your heart fluttered.
once the song came to an end, the soft melody slowly closing harry moves away from the mic and begins talking to the crew of people. you huddle closer to the warm blanket, trying hard to ignore the scratch in your throat meeting the low nausea you’ve been battling the whole day – ‘just travel sickness’ you’ve been trying to assure.
but harry knew you much better than that.
you try to sit higher as harry moves away, beginning to walk in your direction. downplaying the wave of sickness you feel? no, never. just… adjusting your position for purely comfort matters. harry clears his throat when he sits down in the seat beside yours, arm across the back of your seat and the warmth of his side far too inviting you felt like crying in relief when moving into him.
“how’re you feeling?” harry’s watching you intensely, unoccupied hand reaching for your cheek, feeling the warmth – far too warm for his liking – and gently grazing the skin with the back of his pointer finger for comfort.
“amazing,” you huff. harry briefly chuckles at the small differ in your voice, blocked nose the cause. “yeah?” there’s a pause as he looks over your side profile, heavy eyes and mouth agape in heavy hard breaths due to lack of oxygen from your nostrils. you were sick, and he knows before you care to admit it.
your head turns when he continues, cheek pressed to his shoulder covered in a cotton black material, “you look amazing.” the teasing tone making your eyebrows pull in retaliation, “are you saying i don’t look nice?” harry’s gaze doesn’t falter, lip still curved into a lopsided smile when he replies, “you always look nice, darling.”
you huff once more, cheek nuzzling his shoulder as you press further into him, deciding to not look up at him anymore in defence. you feel harry’s head follow, check squished atop your head and ring-covered fingers digging comfortingly into your shoulder as he squeezes you affectionately.
“you’re sick,” he says after more silence, breaking your reverie from watching the crew focus on setting up. you pull back, harry looking back at you once more when you shake your head in disagreement, “you’re sick,” he repeats quietly.
this time you sigh in defeat, looking down to your hands, messily nudging the blanket atop your lap in hopes to get out of the situation, praying he lets it go. but while your boyfriend knew you, you also knew him.
“let’s get you back to bed and some medication, yeah?” his hand which is still holding your shoulder softly shoogles it, pressing for you to move and with a low nod you do. you allow harry to stand with you, to guide you towards the back entrance.
“but you sounded good, baby. wanted to come see you perform,” you pout in sadness, an extra depressed tone in hopes to maybe convince harry that you were healthy enough to stay and see him in concert. harry laughs, opening the door to the array of more staff in attempts to care for you until you’re comfortable, “you see me perform every night.”
he presses an affirming kiss to your cheek but your never-fading pout tells him you are unwilling to let it go. “i’ll sing to you when i get back,” with this your saddened expression falls, a soft glint hidden behind the tired eyes with the softest smile he wishes he could kiss in this moment – if only you weren’t so sick and he had hundreds of shows left in his tour.
“okay.” you give up, allowing harry to take care of you like the gentleman he is as you knew your boyfriend wasn’t going to give up and leave you to wallow in sickness all by yourself, stuck to your side like always.
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amorchai masterlist . taglist form
amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.
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doyoulikethissong-poll · 1 year ago
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Duran Duran - The Chauffeur 1982
Rio is the second studio album by English band Duran Duran, released in 1982. A new wave album with musical elements such as dance and synth-pop, Rio is mostly composed of fast, upbeat numbers, with a couple slower synthesiser-based ballads. The cover artwork, painted by Patrick Nagel and designed by Malcolm Garrett to resemble 1950s cigar packaging, is considered one of the greatest of all time.
Duran Duran shot music videos for many of the album's tracks, all of which helped spearhead the 1980s MTV revolution. Accompanied by three worldwide hit singles, Rio peaked at number 2 in the UK and remained in the chart for 110 weeks. Initially unsuccessful in the US, the album was remixed by Capitol Records to better match American radio at the time; the remixed album spent 129 weeks on the Billboard chart, reaching number 6.
Rio initially received mixed-to-negative reviews from critics, who commended the melodies but disparaged the lyrics. Retrospective reviewers consider Rio timeless and the band's best work, praising its instrumentation and band performances. With the album, Duran Duran were forerunners in the Second British Invasion of the 1980s, helping ensure the success of other English artists throughout the decade, and along with Culture Club and Spandau Ballet created a teen frenzy similar to Beatlemania during the first British Invasion of the 60s. Rio has since made appearances on best-of lists and has been reissued several times.
"The Chauffeur" was created on the spot in the studio. During downtime, Nick Rhodes retreated to an auxiliary studio room with Blauel, their tape operator, and crafted a track using keyboards, synthesisers, the sound of an ice cube cracking and a conversation about nature for extra effects. Simon Le Bon accompanied him with lyrics he'd originally written as poetry in 1978, and adding a melody on an ocarina. The final track features no contributions from the three other band members. An acoustic version (Blue Silver) was recorded without Rhodes, which appeared as a B-side to "Rio". The keyboardist later quipped, "I guess that was my punishment for have created an entirely electronic track."
"The Chauffeur" received a total of 64,6% yes votes! Previous Duran Duran polls: #21 "The Wild Boys".
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annewithaneofthegreengable · 8 months ago
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Play you? Play me?
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charles leclerc x reader
my masterlist
summary in which your “music teacher” finally plays you instead of playing the piano (idk it sounds very weird when I wrote it down) 
warnings smut, french petname (Mon bébé = My baby), cockwarming, squirting, sex on a piano,... 
author note as much as I would've wanted to write for my little Vettel series (believe me, I did work on it, and Chapter 2 it’s almost done, I just need to figure some teeny, tiny details more) BUT I kinda have charles obsession NOW??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT… 
edit #1 THE NEW CHAPTER OF LITTLE VETTEL IS OUT
You loved Charles’s fingers. You loved watching them dance on the keys of the Steinways & Sons piano that he so loved to play; loved watching the way they stretched to reach octaves and certain notes; also the same fingers that were holding on to the steering wheel so tight each time he was in a race; and the same of those holding your hands almost everyday. You loved the glint of his rings as his hands glided across the notes, playing a song that had you almost completely at peace if not for his cock stretching you open.
It all started innocently when he said that he wanted to teach you some basics about piano, and so you were sitting in his lap while his hands guide you through each keys. And just like that in a heated moment, you now were straddling Charles, legs dangling over the back of the piano stool, head tucked against his chest. One ear listened to the steady beat of his heart as the other listened to the steady melody created by his skilled fingers. 
With every tap of his shoes on the pedals, his cock would be driven further into you before falling back to its original place, the ridge of the leaking head catching at just the spot that had you moaning in time with the extended notes.
Your fingers traced shapes in his back, random shapes and words that the song he wrote inspired, your mouth occasionally dropping kisses on his neck and chest, wherever you could reach really.
You brought your legs up, locking your ankles around his back when you wanted more. The new position drove him further into your tight heat but even as you moaned and clenched tightly around him, his fingers never lost their rhythm; the notes still falling perfectly in time with the sheet music in front of him, feet still pressing the pedals at the correct timing.
If it wasn’t for the tiny crease in between his eyes, you wouldn’t have even thought he was affected at all. But you supposed, no matter how lost he was in his playing, it wasn’t as if he could ignore your slick running down your legs and onto the towel below (to protect his expensive leather seats), or the way you folds would flutter every time he hit a particular string of notes.
But for now you were content.
Content to be filled wholly by him.
Every inch of your skin was covered by his own, his heartbeat loud and clear in your ears; complementing his music.
His cock filled you to the brim, keeping you warm and filled in a way you knew you could never explain.
He brought you all the comfort you would ever need; filling you up in all the empty places you used to have; making the absence of him an absence of yourself.
You stayed curled around him as he lost himself in his music and in you; content to let him play until his heart was full before laying you across the expensive instrument and fucking you the way he knew best. 
As the song comes to an end, your body and his became increasingly intertwined. Your breath hitched as he now slowly moves inside you, your hands gripping tighter onto his broad back and shoulders as both bodies stay connected. The intensity of each movements, all made you feel so alive.
The pleasure was almost unbearable, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached his peak, his fingers now digging into your skin. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, his words barely audible as he continued to move inside you, prolonging your pleasure.
Your nails dug into his back as you reached your own climax, the intensity of it all almost too much to handle. He smirked as he felt you tighten around him, your moans growing louder. "That's it, let go for me, Mon bébé" he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with desire. You shuddered as he continued to move inside you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your body. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. 
He let out a low growl as he finally released himself inside you, his hips still moving against yours as he rode out his own climax. He collapsed onto you, his body slick with sweat and his breath warm against your neck. "Fuck, that was amazing," he murmured, nuzzling your neck as he caught his breath. "You're incredible." You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his back as you both enjoyed the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "I don't want to move," you whispered, feeling completely content in his arms.  
After some time, he looked at you with a grin. "Feeling a bit adventurous?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We could try out that new position I've been wanting to try." He picked you up effortlessly and placed you on top of the piano, his lips never leaving yours. He could hear the soft keys being pressed under your body, but it only added to the intensity and the thrill of the situation. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he explored your mouth with his. He leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at you with a lustful gaze. His hands went down to your waist, tracing the curves and dips, driving you crazy with desire. His thumb teased the skin under your silk skirt, making you moan softly. "I want you, again”  he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "Right here, right now." His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring deeper as your bodies pressed closer together on the piano. His hands went to the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing each one while his lips were back on yours, hungrily tasting and nibbling at your lips. His fingers slid under your bra, teasing your breast, making your back arch with pleasure. His lips trailed fire down your body, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. "Now, it's my turn to taste you, Mon bébé" he said, his voice full of desire as he helped you spread your legs. He dipped his head low, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth closed over your core. His tongue explored every inch of you, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit. He sucked and flicked at it, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He lifted his head, his lips wet with your juices. "You taste so fucking good," he growled before plunging his tongue back inside of you, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit. He worked them in unison, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"Come for me, Mon bébé" he commanded, his voice rough and needy. He sucked hard on your clit as his fingers thrust deep inside of you, taking you over the edge. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling and shaking.
Still in a daze from your intense orgasm, he stood and quickly removed his own clothes. His large, hard cock sprung free, the head already wet with his desire for you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your slick entrance. "Are you ready for me?" Without waiting for your response, he thrust deep inside of you. It was a tight fit, the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, his head falling back as he began to move in and out of you with long, slow strokes. "Fuck…” 
His hands gripped your hips as he picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you, the pleasure building deep within your core. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper as you met his thrusts.
He bent his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his fingers pinching and rolling the other. His hips slapped against yours, the sound filling the room, altogether with the sound of the piano. You could tell he was close by the way he began to pant and moan.  "Come for me," he growled, his teeth scraping against your sensitive nipple. His thrusts became erratic, his cock twitching inside of you. That was all it took to set you off, your orgasm crashing through you in waves of pleasure.
He groaned loudly as you tightened around him, his thrusts becoming desperate as he felt his own release racing through him. "Fuck, yes!" He shouted, slamming into you one last time before filling you with his hot cum. He pushed harder and faster, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. He grinned down at you, his cock still hard and ready for more. "Again," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. It wasn't long before you screamed his name, your entire body shuddering as you squirted all over him.
He slowed down as he felt your orgasm subsiding, his lips finding yours in a tender, passionate kiss. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he whispered, pulling you into his arms.
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aphroditelovesu · 3 months ago
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In the middle of the night
❝commission: in the spirit of kinktober, I'd like to make an NSFW request that gives some insight into the intimate relationship between Alexander and y/n (pre kidnapping). In other words, something that shows what happens when Alexander spends the night in her tent. — requested by 💻 anon.
❝ 📜 — lady l: It's been a while since I did something with a touch of smut and this one was more romantic, so I can't say lol, but I liked it. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: smut, oral sex (female receiving) and praise kink (?).
❝📜pairing: soft yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.
❝word count: 2,238.
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Your tent was silent, shrouded in a blanket of darkness that seemed to weigh down on your shoulders. Outside, the wind whistled, whispering between the ropes and the openings of the canvas, a constant and melancholic sound. It was an almost comforting noise, as if the night outside was trying to lull your restless thoughts. Even the soldiers who normally talked loudly and made jokes were now deep in sleep, their grumbling and snoring just a distant murmur.
The night had already gone on longer than it should have, and you knew that staying awake until that hour would be a problem. However, the feeling of discomfort that weighed on your chest did not allow you to rest. For hours, you rolled from one side to the other, trying to surrender to sleep, but each attempt seemed to worsen the restlessness, and the darkness of the tent became a kind of prison. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you decided to get up and move away from the crumpled cot that only increased your frustration. As you lit a candle to illuminate the tent, you were finally able to see properly.
Near a small trunk of belongings, in which your kitty pajamas were carefully stored, there was a chair that had been arranged with care. You settled into it, adjusting your posture, and picked up a book that was nearby: a copy of the Iliad, a gift from Alexander. The worn cover showed signs of use, as if it had passed through several hands before reaching yours. You slid your fingers over the surface of the book, feeling the relief and texture of the leather. The familiarity of the gesture brought a kind of momentary relief, an anchor in the midst of the chaos that was your mind.
As you opened the book, the complexity of ancient Greek leapt out at you, a language you had never even thought of learning, but which was now strangely accessible to you. It wasn’t just the understanding of the words, but the cadence, the melody of the sentences, everything seemed to echo naturally in your mind, as if a subtle spell or an unknown power was guiding you through that story. For a brief moment, you reflected on the strangeness of it all — being able to understand a language so distant and from ages past. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck, or the design of a greater force. Either way, you knew you would be lucky to be able to communicate at this time; total isolation would be a much crueler fate.
Your eyes read each word with anticipation, a smile adorning your lips as the story of the Trojan War was told in the most original and truthful way possible. The Iliad was truly something worth reading, no matter what Age you were in.
You were so immersed in the words of the Iliad, so lost in the distant universe of epic battles and ancient heroes, that the world around you seemed to disappear. Time and space within the tent became irrelevant, and all you heard were the imaginary sounds of swords and shields, the Greek lines echoing in your mind.
It was then that a soft but unexpected sound brought you back to reality. A discreet, almost restrained clearing of your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost let the book slip from your hands. The shock you felt was immediate, and for a moment, even your gaze took a while to adjust to the figure that materialized at the entrance to the tent, half hidden by the soft shadows cast by the light of the lantern.
Alexander, arms crossed and a half smile on his lips, watched your reaction. He seemed to be trying hard not to laugh, which only intensified that amused glint in his eyes. ''Sorry. I didn’t plan to scare you,'' he said, his voice low, but with a hint of amusement that he couldn’t completely hide.
You felt your cheeks heat up, a little embarrassed by the reaction, and still trying to regain your composure after the scare.
''No... I...'' You took a deep breath and forced a shaky smile, ''It’s okay.''
Alexander just nodded, his different colored eyes shining when he noticed the Iliad in your hands. Oh, you had forgotten.
The Iliad was his favorite book. Especially the story of Achilles and Patroclus.
''I didn’t want to interrupt your reading.'' Alexander murmured, approaching you. He stopped next to your chair, his attentive eyes watching you and you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his gaze.
You couldn’t say anything, just nodded.
''But I saw a light on and I got curious.'' Alexander continued, placing his clumsy hands on your shoulders. ''Can’t sleep?''
''I... I’m not sleepy...'' You murmured, looking at him, observing his features. Alexander was an attractive man, his features were strong and marked and the way his lips, full but small, were slightly parted, made him even more charming. Although not that tall, Alexander was strong and that made him even more attractive.
''I can’t sleep either.'' Alexander said and smiled at you, noticing that you were watching him. You felt your cheeks heat up and looked away to the book in your hands. There was nothing wrong with finding your husband attractive, right?
''Why? Did something happen?'' You found yourself asking, curious.
Alexander shrugged. ''My body refuses to rest.''
You nodded, knowing exactly how he felt, because you felt the same way. Your body refused to rest, no matter that you felt tiredness hitting you hard these past few weeks.
Your heart suddenly raced, but this time for a completely different reason. As you tried to formulate a response, something to break the awkward silence, you felt Alexander's unexpected touch. He approached you, with a delicate and almost reverent gesture, and you held your breath as he reached out, his fingers gently touching your face.
He brushed a strand of your hair away, carefully tucking it behind your ear. His fingers, warm and gentle, slid lightly over your skin, leaving a trail of heat. Each second seemed to stretch on, and you found yourself unable to look away from Alexander's eyes, which watched you with an intensity that made your face heat up even more.
"You are beautiful." Alexander whispered, staring at you as if he could read your soul.
You felt your mouth suddenly go dry, at the same time your body warmed with his words.
''Simply gorgeous.'' He said, bringing his face closer to yours. You stood still, barely breathing, when he finally captured your lips in a soft, delicate kiss. His lips touched yours with an unexpected tenderness, as if he were being careful not to scare you.
The kiss was sweet, almost hesitant, but deep in its simplicity. And, little by little, you felt your own tension disappear, as if the world had become a lighter, safer place, and you finally found the courage to close your eyes and allow yourself to feel, to allow yourself to reciprocate.
Alexander's hands slid gently to your head, his fingers intertwining in your hair as he tilted your face slightly, deepening the kiss with increasing intensity. The gesture, at once tender and passionate, dissolved any trace of discomfort or hesitation that might have remained. Without thinking, you brought your own hands to his shoulders, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his clothes, and returned the kiss with equal fervor.
Alexander’s hands slid down your arms, gently pulling you out of the chair as your lips parted. He kept his gaze fixed on yours, his eyes burning with a desire and tenderness that stole your breath. Unhurriedly, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, your warm body pressed against his. Each movement was careful, as if he wanted to enjoy every second of that moment that seemed eternal.
There were few times when you lay together after your wedding night.
With a light touch, he guided you to the cot, the room enveloped in soft shadows and flickering lamplight, making the moment even more intimate. His hands, marked by calluses and scars from years of battle, moved with surprisingly delicate skill as he untied the knot of the white chiton that wrapped you. The fabric slid smoothly, abandoning your body and falling in a soft murmur to the floor.
As the cold night air touched your skin, Alexander's eyes explored you with silent reverence, his gaze as intense as the touch of his hands.
"Beautiful." Alexander whispered, his hands caressing your bare waist, squeezing the flesh lightly. Your breathing became heavy as he attacked your neck, his lips leaving bite marks on your skin, marks that you knew could not be hidden so easily.
Your head lolled to the side, giving his conqueror more access to your neck. Your eyes closed in delight as Alexander's hands rose to your breasts, squeezing them with a strength that would not hurt.
You gasped as his fingers squeezed your nipples, the cold and the touch making them perk up. Alexander squeezed, massaged until he finally stopped kissing your neck and pulled away a little, watching you for a few minutes like a hungry lion. He smiled and carefully pushed you onto the cot, making you sit up. Alexander quickly and conveniently removed the chiton and you held your breath when you saw his visible excitement.
You couldn’t help but feel yourself getting more aroused at the sight, your insides heating up and your most intimate parts naturally lubricating. Despite the scars that covered Alexander’s body, he was a sight to behold. His muscles, years of hard training, were palpable and you found yourself wanting to touch them, to enjoy them.
Alexander smiled broadly at you. There was no more embarrassment, just a husband and wife enjoying each other’s looks.
"Lie down." Alexander ordered, his voice husky and authoritative, leaving no room for questioning. You wisely obeyed him and lay down on the cot.
Alexander sat on the edge and his hands moved up your legs, parting them enough for him to slip his upper body between them. You sighed, a little confused but excited at the same time. His eyes were fixed on your pussy, on your arousal.
You expected him to get straight to the point, that he would just fuck you. Foreplay wasn't something common back then, it wasn't something that would please a woman at least.
But Alexander's next action surprised you.
He brought his face closer to your center and, without warning, his tongue touched your pussy, tasting you for the first time. Your body shivered at the sudden touch, at the texture of his tongue.
"Alexander... W-What?" You tried to question him but, perhaps to shut you up, Alexander sucked your clit, really sucked it, his mouth sucking the sensitive skin and his tongue making circular movements that left you breathless.
Alexander pulled back a little and you could see his chin glistening slightly with your slick in the dim, flickering light of the chandelier.
"I heard some soldiers talking about it..." Alexander murmured, smiling at you as his fingers found their way to your pussy and he slid two of them inside your heat, feeling your inner walls immediately tighten around his fingers. "And I decided to give it a try. Curiosity, perhaps. By the way, my Queen, you taste excellent."
You could have sworn you were going to cum when you heard him call you Queen. Maybe it was a new kink you had acquired, but by the gods, it was something really nice to hear, to be praised. And, the best part, you really are a Queen.
Alexander kissed the inside of your thigh, feeling how hot you were. He sniffed the air and you had to suppress a moan at the sight you were seeing and, perhaps, because he still had two fingers inside you.
Alexander brought his face closer to your pussy again and licked it greedily, his tongue lingering on your clit, on that spot on your body that he knew would leave your legs trembling. He was a quick learner and Alexander knew that that spot between your legs left you breathless. Your head fell back, your sighs and moans of pleasure leaving your lips without any shame.
Alexander squeezed your thighs as he devoured you and his fingers fucked you in a fast and pleasurable rhythm. His tongue pressed against your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your legs trembled slightly, your hands gripping Alexander's dirty blonde hair as you finally reached your climax. You came in his mouth, clenching his hair, your body releasing your juices as you finally felt yourself relax. The orgasm relieved all the tension that was plaguing you.
Your breathing slowly returned to normal, and you looked up at Alexander, who pulled away slightly and smiled broadly at you. After removing his fingers from your pussy, Alexander brought them to his mouth, tasting more of your taste.
You felt like you could attack him right then and there.
Alexander chuckled as he saw your expression, the pleasure, excitement, and desire taking over your features. It was a sight to behold and one he planned to worship for as long as he could.
You were his Queen and should be worshipped as such.
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emsdevs · 17 days ago
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Jack, Do You Think About Me?
a/n: this has been a thought in my head since this song came out! here's a little jack x famous singer!reader inspired by noah by megan moroney. enjoy :)
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You and Jack had gotten together the summer after you both turned seventeen. Your relationship was good, but good wasn’t always enough. You’d skip class together, riding around in his car, blasting “Record Year” by Eric Church. You were completely his, but he didn’t belong to you, not really. When he got drafted, he made the decision that your relationship should end, so you both decided to live out your last summer together before ultimately calling it quits the day before he got on a plane to New Jersey. 
Now, it had been years since you had seen him. You checked on him every once in a while, through the internet or mutual friends. You wanted the best for him, and he’d always own a piece of your heart. You couldn’t let him have all of it anymore though. You had met a nice guy, just a couple of years older than you, at your job. You were fresh out of college and quite nervous, but he had helped you settle in. Before long, you and the guy, Liam, had realized there was a spark between the two of you. He asked you out, and a few nights later you found yourself on a dinner date with him. Liam was great, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wasn’t Jack.
Not long after you and Liam officially got together, you decided to pursue your dreams and started uploading covers and your own songs to YouTube. After just a couple of months, you had gotten discovered and signed a deal with a record label. Liam was right there with you, supporting you through it all, but you couldn’t help but think about when Jack would tell you he’d never heard a voice more beautiful than yours. Now you’re touring, and it’s affecting your relationship with Liam. 
“I never see you anymore. I just… I thought I could handle this, but I need someone who can be here. I can’t settle down with a girl who lives on a tour bus,” Liam seemed exhausted, and you were tired of arguing with him, especially after that last comment.
“Fine, you can find your way to the airport I assume, then?”
“Yeah. I’ll get outta your hair.”
That night, after your tears dried up, you did what you did best, write. Just hours later, you were looking at a song called “Break It Right Back” that summed up how you were feeling about your entire relationship. When your band met with you to practice the next day, you threw it into the mix with some of your other unreleased songs, letting them get a feel for how you pictured the melody sounding. You’d be performing in Buffalo, New York later that night, and you planned to debut it as a surprise song on the setlist. It would likely stay for the next few shows, just until you got all the feelings out.
Four nights later, you were playing Madison Square Garden, but unbeknownst to you, a certain boy you used to consider a brother dragged your ex and half of their hockey team to the VIP section of your show. You had made it to the halfway point, walking around the stage and interacting with fans. That’s when you see him, Jack Hughes, the boy you had never really gotten over. You locked eyes with him (the VIP section was rather close to the stage at your shows), and everything came rushing back. You continued on with the show, trying to play it off and act like you were fine, but all of that changed when it was time to play the surprise song. Originally, like in the past three shows, you were planning to play “Break It Right Back”, but something stopped you. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew you had to try one last time. You stopped your band and began to give the audience a little speech.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… We were supposed to play “Break It Right Back” right now, but I feel like I should perform another song for you guys. I uhh… I wrote this song a while back. It’s about an ex of mine. We were um… we were together for about a year in high school, but our lives led us in different directions. So yeah, um… this one’s called “Noah”, and yes, I changed the guy’s name. So no one go searching for someone named Noah that you think I dated because I didn’t,” you tried to joke a little at the end, attempting to calm your nerves. Your band knew the song and started playing it perfectly. You couldn’t look anywhere near Jack, terrified of what his reaction might be. Soon, you were at the bridge, and your eyes were briefly drawn to his before you started singing, “It’s more problematic than it is innocent and sweet. You’re more like a secret I wish I didn’t have to keep, and I bet by now you’ve found somebody new. I did too, but when I lie down next to him sometimes I’d rather it be with you.” 
You finished the song, still not daring to glance Jack’s way, and then you reveled in the cheers from the audience, who had clearly enjoyed you performing a never-before-heard song. 
Once the show was finished, you went back to your dressing room after sharing a hug with your band and vocalists. You took a breath, letting yourself calm down from the adrenaline rush you still get from performing. A moment later, you hear a knock on the door. Assuming it’s your manager, you tell them to come in, but you’re shocked to see a gaggle of hockey players huddled in the doorway. The two in the front stand out the most to you though. You’d be able to recognize a Hughes brother anywhere, and now there were two right in front of you. Luke decides he’s done wasting time, quickly moving forward and engulfing you in a hug. All of the boys, even the ones you had never met, gave you their congratulations and told you how much they enjoyed the show. It wasn’t long before Luke was coming up with an excuse to usher everyone but Jack out of the room, hoping you two could work things out. 
“You did great out there,” Jack started the conversation.
“Thanks. I guess I have to come watch you play hockey now, huh?” you chuckle, trying to diffuse the tension.
“Did you write that song about me?” Jack cut to the chase, tired of dancing around the subject.
“Jack- I… If it bothers you, I won’t release it, and I’ll never perform it again. I just needed to let you know how I felt when I saw you in the audience.”
“It doesn’t bother me, I swear. It makes me happy. I think about you a lot. Honestly, I don’t know that I ever got over you, and the biggest mistake of my life was not even trying to make the distance work with you.”
“Hey, it’s okay. We both needed to grow on our own. Look at where we both are, living our dreams. If we didn’t break up, I probably wouldn’t be here, and your game is so good right now! Please don’t feel bad,” you tried to reassure him.
“Do you uhh… Do you think we could try again? I mean- I know you’re on tour right now, and I’m just on a short break before games start back again. But I need you around again. I really think we could make it work this time.”
“I think we could make it work too, J. How about we start out slow okay? Get to know each other again?”
“I can work with that,” Jack breathed out a sigh of relief, wrapping you in a hug. Both of you were happy to be revisiting something that made you both so happy. You didn’t know if Jack would be your forever, but you’re content to work together with him to see if he would be. At least now you could think about him without feeling guilty.
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