Melyxssa - 𝕸𝖊𝖑🪩

he is so 🫦😍🫦😍🫦😍🫦😍

Fill the Void

Description: 1991, during the recordings of the Black Album, you help your boyfriend James to come up with something more intriguing.

(inspired by the series “the idol”)

warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

“You're the one, you're the only one

Baby girl, we could both have fun

Oh, I choose you to fill your void, yeah”

-“Fill the Void”, by The Weeknd & Lily Rose Depp

The time seemed to be frozen inside that recording room, where the entire band felt impossible to compose new riffs and write new lyrics for the upcoming album.

Hours have passed, and for some reason, James couldn't get into the lyrics of one of the songs, he didn't feel it as his own.

"You seem a little stuck on the outro", says Lars from the console, right outside the noise proof studio where James was trying to record the vocals, after working on it endlessly.

James sighs heavily, running a hand through his blonde hair. He squints his blue eyes as he looks over at Lars, his expression a mix of frustration and annoyance.

"Nah man, it's not just the fuckin' outro. I'm just not feelin' it, y'know?", James replies gruffly, his voice rough from repeatedly trying to nail his verse.

“I gotta figure this shit out, it’s been hours already, we gotta finish this fucking song.”, he says in frustration, rubbing his face with his hands, stretching his tall frame. The handlebar mustache and overgrown goatee twitch as he clenches his jaw.

"Maybe we just need to take a break for a bit. Clear our fuckin' heads."

James exits the recording room, opening the door loudly, grabbing a beer from the nearby cooler, cracking it open and taking a long swig. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, burping softly.

"This song's got me fucked up, man. I can't seem to find the right... vibe, ya feel me?" He says, gesturing vaguely with the beer can.

James paces around the small recording space, his boots thudding against the floor. He knows they need to get this album done, but he refuses to put out something that doesn't feel authentic.

"I just need to get outta the fuck outta this room for a bit." He mutters, more to himself than towards Lars.

James takes another long pull from the beer, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat. He knows they'll get there, eventually. But for now, he just needs a break.

Even more time passes by, he spent hours trying and trying his vocal part, for what seemed a thousands times. There was nothing to do, James couldn't feel the song, the lyrics that he wrote himself didn’t feel like they were his, something was missing.

Now, 11pm, with hands in his hair and frustration in his eye, James fucked up the outro of the song once again, making Lars and the producers sight heavily.

"Look man, it's really late now, maybe you have to rest. You tried this shit for the whole day now...", Lars spoke through the microphone from outside the room where James was standing.

James clenches his fists, his face turning red with frustration. He wants to scream, to punch something and let out his frustration. James knows Lars is right, it is late, and he has been stuck at this point for way too long. But the perfectionist in him can't let it go, not until he gets it just right.

"Fuck!", James shouts, his voice echoing off the soundproof walls, glitching the audio of the microphone connected to the one that Lars was speaking with.

He starts pacing again, his boots now stomping loudly on the studio floor. "I can't fuckin' rest until I get this straight, ya hear me? We can't put out some lame bullshit!"

He leans against the wall, his head falling back as he stares at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights flicker slightly, casting a harsh glow on his angular face. James runs a hand over his short, mutton chops, tugging at the hair.

“James, it’s too late now, and it’s a Saturday. Kirk and Jason are already gone, and half of the crew too. You just have to try again on Monday”.

With a heavy sigh, he speaks into the microphone, his voice low and gritty.

"Alright, alright... fuck. I hear ya, Lars. But this shit's just not... it's not workin' for me, man."

James nods, removing his headphones and closing his audio, while all of the others in the building left for the night, except for him, who decided to stay there trying to fix the lyrics, some riffs and sing again on his own.

There was nothing left to do anymore, the outro was all fucked up, he seriously needed a break.

He stared at the phone on the wall for a few seconds holding his face with his hand.

He needed her. He needed his biggest inspiration to be there with him, the one from which all of his songs come alive.

With a quick and heavy movement, he jumped up from the couch and reached the phone. While the beeping sound was pending, he looked at the clock: 12:30am.

“Please, answer me”, he thought in his mind.

“Hello?”

A quiet almost sleepy voice answers from the other side of the phone.

"Hey, babe... Did I wake ya?" James asks, his voice now a low, gentle rumble. He tries to keep the frustration and exhaustion out of his tone, not wanting to worry her.

He starts pacing again, but this time his strides are slower, more measured. The sound of her breathing on the other end of the line is oddly soothing, a balm to his frayed nerves.

“Not at all, I fell asleep on the couch actually”, Y/N answers in a sweet calming tone. “It’s everything okay there?”

She asks now fixing herself and sitting up, so that she could talk to him better.

"I'm just... I'm havin' a tough time here with this fuckin' song, ya know? I can't get it right, and it's just... it's drivin' me nuts." He confesses, his free hand running through his hair again.

James pauses, listening to her soft murmur of sympathy. He closes his eyes, letting the sound of her voice wash over him, calming him down.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I thought you already fixed that. It’s been days by now”, she continues, making James let out another sigh.

“I didn’t... I need you here Y/N, right now…” he says firmly.

“You want me there? Oh James, it’s so late now, I-“

Y/N got interrupted by his helpless voice.

“Please…”

—Y/N’s POV—

I stay silent again, checking the clock, it’s almost 1am.

I couldn’t say no, I feel like he’s having a rough time with this song, and I want to help him.

“Yeah, all right then. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” I hang up the phone and started collecting some clothes to wear and get to him as soon as i could.

My hair is still a mess, and I soon realized once I stepped out of the house that wearing a skirt and a top wasn’t the best idea ever, due to the California’s cold night breeze, but my sleepy senses’ve been stronger then my actions at this night time.

As I arrive at the studio, the door was strangely open, someone who left the studio must’ve thought that James was supposed to do the same right after, but of course, he didn’t.

I walk through the hallway of the studio arriving at the recording room, spotting James looking up at me, his blue piercing eyes meeting mine.

The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing across his angular face. He's sitting in the recording booth, a guitar resting on his lap, a half-empty beer can on the floor beside him.

The moment he sees me, James' expression softens instantly. The frustration and exhaustion that were etched into his features a moment before quickly melt away, replaced by a gentle, almost reverent look. He stands up slowly, the chair creaking softly behind him.

James walks towards me, his tall frame unfolding with a grace that belies his rough exterior. He stops just at the edge of the open door, looking down at me with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Hey, babe", he says softly, his low and intimate voice echoing in the quiet of the studio.

"I'm glad you're here. I needed this, I… needed you", he says in my ear, tying his big arm around my waist before he reaches out his rough, calloused hand cupping my cheek. His thumb brushes gently over my skin, a tenderness that sends a shiver down my spine. James leans in closer, his breath hot on my face, faintly smelling of beer and smoke.

Suddenly, he pulls back, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I'm just... I'm fuckin' stuck, and I can't figure out why.” He lets out an irritated sigh.

I’ll actually go mad if I can’t get this right. And… I thought... maybe you could help me, maybe give me a new perspective."

I move towards the console in front of the recording booth, grabbing the paper sheet with the ink-written lyrics.

"I don't know James, you know I'm not really good at this.

My nervous voice is trembling, I wanna help with all of my heart.

"Sing with me then”, he says with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah sure.” I laugh nervously, my cheeks burn.

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he listens to my nervous tone. He leans back against the console. The amused glint in his blue eyes softens as he realizes my hesitation.

James always catches me sing under the shower or while I do my makeup, and he always insists that my voice is perfect.

He takes a step closer to me, closing the distance between our bodies. His tall frame towers over me, but his presence is no longer intimidating. Instead, it's comforting, warm. He reaches out, his rough fingers gently tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"Babe, c'mon. You know your voice is fuckin' perfect. I've heard you sing around the house before, ya’ know? Under the shower... it's so beautiful." His thumb brushing over my lower lip.

"I wanna hear you sing with me, feel the music together."

He grabs my hand and leads me in the recording booth in front of the microphone, he looks around for a pair of headphones, before putting them on my head.

He sings the first part of the song, his voice low and rough, sensual, filled with a raw emotion that sends a shiver down my spine.

The lyrics are intense, it reminds me of us in some ways. Maybe that’s why he needed me here.

But as he sings, his gaze never leaves mine, connecting with me on a deeper level.

He moves away from the microphone leaving me more space now.

“Just follow the rhythm , okay? Let the music guide you, feel it in your bones.

Don't overthink it, just… be with me in this moment."

I nod nervously, helping him with one of his songs is a big responsibility. He quickly exits the booth to press the recording button on the outside console, playing the base in the headphones, before coming back next to me.

"Come on, babe. Sing with me", he says, his voice is gentle almost a whisper against my skin, he positions himself behind me holding my shoulders first.

"Let's make something beautiful together, something real and true. Just like us."

I start singing the lyrics reading it, feeling James hands on my arms and then falling down on my waist, rubbing my hips right after, his breath on my neck while he rests his chin on my shoulder, closing his eyes, now feeling the song. I gasp in the microphone at his touch feeling his hands.

James starts to sing along with me, his voice a low, sensual growl that vibrates through my body. He holds me closer, one hand sliding up my side to cup the side of my breast, his thumb brushing over the fabric of my shirt, pressing his hips against my back, making me feel what this moment was doing to him.

Lost in the moment, James lets the music consume him. He sings with a fervor he hasn't felt in a long time, the frustration of earlier finally melting away. With each word, each note, he feels a sense of release, he was getting it right.

James' hands drift lower, playing with the waistband of my skirt, his calloused fingers brushing down the bare skin of my thighs. He leans in and presses his lips against my neck, his mustache tickles my skin as he starts to place soft kisses along the column of my throat.

He takes his time, savoring my taste, the way I shiver and gasp at his touch. James' hand slides higher between my legs, pushing my skirt up as he goes, his palm kneading the soft flesh of my inner thigh. His kisses turn more insistent, more demanding, as he feels my body responding to his touch.

He gently touches my panties’ lace fabric making my mouth leave a soft moan while his teeth grazing my skin before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

James' other hand slides up my side again, under my shirt, to finally reach my perky breast. He squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple, feeling it harden under his touch.

Lost in a haze of sensation, James continues to sing, his voice low and rough with desire. The lyrics take on a new meaning, a new intensity as he holds me close, his hardening body pressed against me.

He wants me, needs me, in a way that consumes him entirely. And as the song reaches its crescendo, James pours all of that need, all of that desire, into his kiss and touch.

His fingers slides underneath the lace of my underwear, feeling my heat. He swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he hears your moan echoing through the studio, now recorded in the lyrics.

Slowly, he starts to move his fingers again, sliding them over my sensitive and humid flesh. His touch is gentle at first, teasing, exploring. He wants to learn every inch, to hear every gasp and every moan tie with the words he wrote.

As he feels my wetness, James can't hold back a low groan, his breath hot against my neck.

I moan again letting my head fall back on his shoulder, heavily breathing.

“James…”, I whisper, my eyes rolled at the back of my head, biting my lip.

He smirks as he keeps kissing the thin skin of my neck. “Keep singing”, he says starting to rub slow circles over my clit, his touch firm and deliberate.

At the same time, he starts to rock his hips against my ass, grinding his hardening cock against me, throbbing through his jeans.

I keep singing moaning at every pause, at every words, harder, when I feel James fingers pump in and out of me.

He groans deeply in my ear as he feels my tight, wet heat enveloping his fingers. His movements speed up gradually, his thumb still rubbing firm circles over my clit. The sounds of my moans and the wet, slick noises of his fingers moving inside me fill the recording booth.

He grinds harder against my ass, his cock is now stone hard and it’s straining against the layers of clothes blocking its freedom. James' breathing grows heavier, his chest heaving against my back as he loses himself in pleasuring me.

“Keep singing for me babe, I wanna hear you”, he says in a growl, before leaving a last kiss on my neck.

During the instrumental part of the song, James moves away and stands in front of me, and suddenly drops to his knees behind me, his hands gripping my hips tightly, letting me arch my back, spreading my legs. He looks up at me with lust-filled eyes, his gaze intense and hungry. Without saying a word, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, yanking them down my legs in one swift motion.

As my panties fall to the floor of the recording room, James leans in, burying his face between my thighs, making me moan as I hold tight onto microphone in front of me.

“Don’t stop, I wanna hear your voice while I do this to you.” His voice vibrating against my sensitive flesh.

He starts to lick and suck my clit, while his hands grip my ass, spreading my cheeks apart as he delves deeper, his tongue plunging into my core. James eats me out with a fervor he's never shown before, a desperation that borders on primal. James is determined to make me cum just before the song ends, thanks of the feeling of his tongue and fingers bringing me to the pinnacle of pleasure.

I tangle my fingers in his blonde hair, pulling him closer as I moan louder and desperately.

He can sense my impending orgasm, the way my body starts to tremble and quake against his touch.

He doubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers moving faster, harder, more insistently. He wants to feel me come undone, wants to taste my release on his tongue.

"That's it, babe... Come for me.” James growls against my pussy, the vibrations of his voice against my cunt is sending me closer and closer to the edge.

And then, with a scream of his name, my body convulses, my pussy clenching and fluttering around his fingers as my orgasm crashes over me. James moans deeply as he feels my hot, slick essence on his mouth, coating his chin, as his strong hands grip firmly my ass.

He works me through my climax, his fingers and tongue never stopping their sensual assault until the last aftershock has passed.

Finally, he pulls back up, looking up at me with a smug, satisfied grin, as the base in the headphones that eventually fell off my head starts to fade away. I am speechless, this is what he meant when he said he didn’t feel the song…

He moves closer, kissing me, smacking again my ass, surely leaving his red hands prints, his tongue delivers inside my mouth tasting mine. “You’ve been perfect”, he says as he breaks the wet contact.

“Well I almost didn’t sing at all, James” I say breathless, my cheeks burn for the excitement, and sweat drips down my body.

“And that was exactly what I wanted, with the guitar solo at the end it’ll be perfect”, he says holding my hips firmly.

“James, are you sure? I mean… what about the others? It’s not your usual kind of song, I mean…” I quickly say after being interrupted by James’ hands pulling me closer again against his still hard crotch and his lips kissing me passionately. He moves an inch away from my lips, looking deeply into my exhausted eyes.

“It’s perfect Y/N, the guys will love it… I want this in the album, I want you in this song.”

hiii! if you have any requests lemme know xx

-mel

David Bowie by Christian Simonpietri, Paris, 1977.

remember when kirk and lars became the first male lesbian couple

my y/n fit.

I don't wanna be me

🫦🫦🫦 seeing this in uni hurts

random screenshots from yet another rewatch "a year and a half in the life of"