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#resident composer
caitlynmeow · 4 months
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Cass is such a baby omg. She's easily riled up and pouts when things aren't going her way I just love her so much.
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ofbakerst · 5 months
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Beethoven Violin Concerto in D major III. Rondo: Allegro
Jascha Heifetz with the Boston Symphony Orchestra
this concerto was popularized in england in the nineteenth century by Joseph Joachim, the hungarian violinist & conductor, whose concert holmes & watson have attended the evening before resident patient begins
this is the piece that holmes is thinking of in the barbershop, which is played on the soundtrack and which holmes plays on violin at the end of the episode
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galaxycunt · 1 month
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something that’s funny about a long term relationship is sometimes I’m like oh this is totally not my partners thing and then I watch a video on the kryptos puzzle thing and he’s like…why would you think I wouldn’t like that?
well BECAUSE two years ago I wanted to see this performed
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and he’s like…no I don’t like orchestras they’re boring so I invite my friends and I was blow away seeing this live so in intermission we were like fuck you Evan this is amazing what’s wrong with you and I hunt down a video and show him and he was like SHIT
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coffinliqueur · 2 years
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I’ve somehow come upon the idea that if Lucas were to decide to play an instrument (at least a conventional one) and actually commit to developing proficiency with it, it’d be the accordion.
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amongfeathers · 8 months
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supermodel...
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“…and my greatest fear was that if I lost control, or did not have control, things would just, you know, be fatal…”
CANON-DIV QUACKITY BLOG! 🌟 part of ctrlverse -> cl!quackity or ct!quackity. run by pity, he/she, 18.
ctrlverse (stylized as CTRLverse, CTRLverse, or ctrlverse) is a roleplay verse based heavily off DSMP. it focuses on the untold stories of some of the characters as private bloggings about the events they experienced. it is not strict to the DSMP canon, and does not follow that timeline to the letter. anything goes in ctrlverse. almost anything, at least.
this blog is the equivalent of the vice president's private social media. open to manburgian citizens, people he follows, and denizens skilled at hacking.
please send in asks and anons! every interaction is appreciated!
art is by the beloved tham n0phis
mask from here
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notes on CT!Quackity, a.k.a (big) Q: CURRENT ARC: Manberg, well into the first year of Schlatt's rule. TAGS: under the cut.
he is AFAB transmasc, and currently only uses he/they pronouns. he has (undiagnosed and untreated) BPD. he is on the autism spectrum. Q also has GAD, which can cause anything from severe self doubt to a full-on shutdown. as Schlatt's vice, Quackity reserves the sole right to effect the decisions of Manberg's self-declared emperor, but more often than not finds himself doing paperwork instead, ad nauseam. married originally for tax benefits and public appearance, he takes relationships very seriously, and sometimes chases after the wrong ones. when he's not being eaten alive by work he participates in small games with the citizens– he's an avid gamer, and gambler, a bit of a cheat at cards. loves any chance for distraction. Q is a phoenix hybrid, who has only died once before. instead of being reborn when he does, he simply respawns– depending on the esempi territory, his lives are reset. he is currently down one from four (three respawns left). he often binds his wings at the same time that he binds his chest, and as such has mostly forgotten how to fly.
some posts will be partially or entirely in spanish. mun speaks spanish, but not fluently. please excuse and/or correct any faults. translations will be provided!
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“and if it's an illusion, i don't wanna wake up. i'm gonna hang onto it.”
in character tags are below the cut.
OUT OF CHARACTER TAGS 🌱 gen tag - #ctrlverse srs roleplay - #controlverse nsfw content - #tread carefully
other triggering content - #tw (trigger) nsrs roleplay - #featuring: OOC / non-char posts- #ctrlcamping end of roleplay - #20 something
🌱 IN CHARACTER TAGS #promise to be better - my journaling. nothing really important, I just need a place to get it out. #now watching MADtv - for my actually funny posts. #warm enough inside? - gay.. shit. gay stuff. yearning. 😑 #know i'm alive - reposts! silly, um, images I want you to see. yeah. #where are the askers? - this is for asks, suggestions, and submissions, so the joke doesn't really... go. you get the idea. *please* don't ask me to lower the taxes, I can't.
PLAYER TAGS 🌱 #flock together - ( nihachu ) #big tail bigger man - ( tommy ) #fresh as a daisy - ( aimsey ) #black sheep - ( minx ) #goopin & gunkin? - ( slime ) #composer-in-residence - ( wilbur ) #buzzing in your ears - ( tubbo ) #empty - no blog yet. #empty - no blog yet. #empty - no blog yet. #empty - no blog yet.
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migueldelaguila · 1 year
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I am honored to be the 2023-2024 #ComposerInResidence with Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra collaborating with #conductor Matthew Kraemer in #ICO performances of #SalonBuenosAires and #ConciertoConBrio (soloists Nancy Ambrose King Ryan J. King. In October I'll also be in Residence with Indiana State University #ContemporaryMusicFestival working with #Chicago's Picosa ensemble and all Festival musicians. https://www.icomusic.org/team/miguel-del-aguila/ https://www.indstate.edu/cas/cmf
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theinnerunderrain · 1 month
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Flowers only bloom when the sun comes out [Yan! Prince x Fem! Maid-Reader]
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Warnings: Yandere themes, child neglect, mentions of suggestive behaviors and lustful behaviors, manipulative thoughts, etc.
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Miserable.
Prince Cassian would choose "miserable" as the precise term to depict his fragile existence. Born a prince into a mighty kingdom, his father ruled with an iron fist and unwavering will. Yet, despite his royal lineage, his life felt devoid of meaning, a constant struggle in the shadows of his father's reign. Maybe his father held Cassian accountable, at least in part, for the death of his beloved queen. Perhaps that's why he was abandoned to decay in the queen's once-grand residence, where dust settled like a shroud, paint flaked from the walls, and sinister spiders claimed every corner.
However, the king, perhaps out of lingering kindness or a trace of pity, permitted servants to attend to the prince. Yet, few were inclined to care for a forsaken prince; servants came and went as the boy matured into a young man. Initially, some felt sympathy for him, but they soon departed upon realizing there was no benefit. Others, driven by greed, chipped away at the scant jewelry and valuables left in the building before absconding to sell them in the market. His existence drifted aimlessly, filled with endless hours staring out his window or sipping the bitter tea his younger sister, kind but unaware of his plight, managed to sneak to him.
It all seemed so pointless.
Then, one day, you appeared. A young maid, your smile radiant and your enthusiasm palpable as you embarked on this new job. He couldn't help but feel sorry for you, knowing that your optimism would soon be crushed once you discovered the reality of serving a prince like him, someone you might deem unworthy of your efforts. Every day, he observed you closely, noting your tireless efforts and how your face, though marked by exhaustion from tasks meant for many, retained a composed and bright demeanor.
He found himself admiring your diligent work ethic, transforming his once bitter teatime into a sweeter experience as you mastered the art of brewing it just right. The clothes he wore now carried a scent of softness, feeling gentle against his skin, a stark contrast to the past when they often felt itchy and smelled of sweat. The garden flourished with the flowers you tended to, and his bedroom felt fresh and inviting, as if it were truly lived in. Your presence became a source of comfort for him. He enjoyed your greetings each morning, your smiles making him feel truly alive, reminding him of his own humanity.
He felt a growing desire to be near you, craving the comfort of your presence. He longed to bask in the warmth of your soft smile, to feel the gentle touch of your hand as you helped him dress. He treasured the moments when you enveloped him in warmth on cold, restless nights haunted by memories of his mother. Your gentle fingers combing through his hair brought a soothing calmness to his troubled mind. He delighted in teasing you during work hours, reveling in the sight of your face blushing a deep scarlet as his hands playfully found their way to your waist, causing you to momentarily lose your grip on the dustpan before scolding him.
He likes you.
Well, he didn't just like you. He was consumed by you, obsessed with every thought of you, you, you.
He yearned to be enveloped in your essence, to drown in your intoxicating fragrance, to be devoured whole by you. He craved for your lips to consume his, for your touch to consume his skin, for every part of him to be consumed by you. He was acutely aware that his thoughts about you would be deemed sinful by the church, yet he couldn't help but question God's justice in abandoning him for a crime he didn't commit. Considering your background as a commoner's daughter, burdened with constant toil, he doubted you had any prior experience with men, leading him to wonder if he might be your first.
He hoped you preferred younger men, despite his slight age difference. He vowed to bring you pleasure so intense that it would bring tears to your eyes. With your face flushed in red with his hands tracing over the curve of your body, admiring the plumpness of your swollen breast. The way your supple body would quiver and twitch with every flick of his tongue against your adorable clit, with your soft thighs grappling around his head much like soft pillows.
Ah, perhaps he shouldn't be thinking of such lustful matters.
Anyway, he was acutely aware that as a powerless and forgotten prince, his presence posed a constant danger to himself and those close to him. His older siblings, viewing him as a potential threat to the throne, could easily target him. He contemplated two options: either showing up at the King's castle, pleading with his father to take him back, or fleeing with you to another country. The idea of living as a commoner didn't seem so daunting, considering his current life despite his royal title. Yet, a third, more manipulative thought crept into his mind—perhaps he could exploit his younger sister's naivety to regain entry to the main palace, using her pity as a means to an end.
He believed that in the end, whatever sacrifices were necessary to attain the power to keep you would be worthwhile.
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melancholyhigh · 10 months
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ALL MINE.
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ft. leon x f!reader
synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.
content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.
note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((
masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3
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Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.
He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 
Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.
Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.
–-
The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.
He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’
After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.
He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.
It made you question who really was your roommate.
In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 
He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.
Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.
It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.
One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.
Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.
You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.
He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 
“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 
You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.
Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.
“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”
He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”
“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 
“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 
Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 
“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.
“Okay.”
You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 
You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.
“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 
“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 
“What’s your job, then?”
You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”
“Some government bullshit.”
–-
That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 
You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.
He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 
You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.
You and Leon spent more time with each other.
Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.
Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 
You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 
You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.
You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.
The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.
Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.
Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.
But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?
But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?
–-
Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?
“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 
“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”
He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.
“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 
“So desperate,” he chuckles.
“You’re going?”
“I’m gonna run you dry.”
–-
You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 
“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.
His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.
“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”
You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.
The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.
Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?
Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.
She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.
You could go for a drink right now. 
The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.
Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.
You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.
You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 
When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.
Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.
It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.
You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.
Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.
You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 
“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 
You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 
“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 
“They’re not my type.”
“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.
“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.
“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”
–-
It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 
When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.
Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.
You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 
A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.
He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  
He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.
You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.
When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 
You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.
All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.
His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 
You despise how he’s been acting lately. 
You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.
You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.
But you don’t hate him, far from it.
You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 
He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?
He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.
Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.
–-
You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.
Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.
When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 
“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.
“What are you talking about–” 
“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.
The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 
His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 
Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.
“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.
“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.
“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 
“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 
You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.
You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.
Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”
His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.
“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.
“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”
“Yes, please.” 
You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”
“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 
“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”
He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 
“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.
He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.
“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 
You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 
“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”
“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 
“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.
“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.
“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?
“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 
Fuck, had he said that out loud? 
His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.
“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.
“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.
“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.
“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 
You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.
“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.
“I’m your slut.”
“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.
“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”
“Maybe next time, honey.”
“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.
Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.
Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.
“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”
Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.
Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 
It’s so much better than he has imagined.
He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.
“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.
“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.
“Cum with me, please.”
After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.
You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”
You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.
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reikoknshii · 3 months
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🩸 scarlet..milk? 🥛
Doppelganger Francis Mosses (Milkman) x Reader
500+ words
Requested by; @FoxxyyThePirateFox in wattpad
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꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚
You're a newly Hired Doorman for a Apartment thats owned by D.D.D. It'll be fine, well thats what the D.D.D. operators said to you before you get started.
You opened the list of residents thats supposed to arrive.
' Angus Ciprianni '
' Nacha Mikaelys '
' Izaack Gauss '
' Arnold Schmicht '
'I can do this...i think?' You said to yourself as you breathed in and out before opening the metal door.
First thing to arrive shocked you, Its those twin models whom you saw in the magazine.Except...they only had a Giant Razor teeth on their face.
You didn't spend a minute to check their Documents as their appearance already proved they're not the real ones. You immediately click the emergency button and called the D.D.D. cleaning services.
"Does that mean ill...have to face more of those?" You asked to yourself as this job surely need intense observation, you don't want to let one in and let it kill the innocent lives of the apartment residents.
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You've seen... 4 doppelgangers that look horrifying, except for one, The Peach guy seem abit scary but they only said peach and nothing more.
You checked the list and hoped the one's you let in are the actual resident, you don't want to die just yet by your stupid decisions and weak observation.
You slump to your seat and groaned on the files you're holding. "Almost time, just a few more guest and ill close the entrance" you reassured yourself as you composed a brave and determined look.
"Mm...hello"
A voice said as you look up from the files and almost dropped it. "JESUS- WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?-"
you questioned the milkman who stayed silent for abit before answering. "I seem to have covered myself with scarlet milk..mm.."
You dart your eyes on his ID and Entry request, as he stared intensely at you through the protected glass window.
"I...never heard of it" you said nervously about the 'Scarlet milk'.
"I assure you...its a better version of the milk we had" he said creepily as he showed a jug of a red substance labeled as 'Milk'. He smiled in an eerie way as you shivered in fear , getting goosebumps from his behavior.
"I seriously dont think thats milk-"
Your eyes went wide as he opens the jug of scarlet 'milk' and drinks it in front of you. The substance dripped from his mouth to his neck , he pulled the jug away and smiled widely through the protected glass window. The so called milk staining more of his milkman uniform as he slammed his fist on the window.
"L̸̖̽̌͂ẹ̿͋̒̕t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍.."
You shrieked in fear as you slammed the emergency button from his creepy behavior, you were sure thats not the real Francis Mosses. The metal cover shut in front of him as he repeatedly bang his fist on the covers.
"Ỵ̛̖͋͢/ṇ̤͛̒̍...l̙͖̑̾ͣẹ̿͋̒̕t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍, l̙͖̑̾ͣẹ̿͋̒̕t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍...L̸̖̽̌͂Ḛͭ̉̇͟T̨͈͗̌ͥ M͉̅ͮ͒ͤḚͭ̉̇͟ I̍̅̀̎̊N̺̻̔̆ͅ" said the doppelganger as you called the D.D.D. cleaning Services immediately out of fear.
═════════•°•⚠️•°•═════════
You were shaken by the current occurrences, your eyes darting everywhere from the window as your hour of  work shift ends. You closed the metal cover and got out of the office you're in, on the entrance window you see the blood covered jug on the floor and a small note...
"I'm watching you...."
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caitlynmeow · 9 months
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this is the sane sister 😭😭
#bela dimitrescu#house dimitrescu#resident evil village#resident evil 8#re8#im sorry this discription of bela always throws me off bc she actually looks insane but she’s supposed to be the okay one#h o w#????#like okay dani is unhinged and it shows#Cassandra looks very sane and super composed???? even though she’s supposed to be crazy#but I think Cassie is just sadistic and violent for no reason#bela tho??? the way she licks her bloody lips in the One Scene ™️#she looks fucking psychotic#in no way would i call that anything remoletly close to sane or even stable#she was calm and even bored chasing Ethan in the cellar#but when he broke the window? she just flipped and literally l o s t it#i love that for her really#I think it’s because she’s always trying to impress her mother that she appears calm and collected but deep down she’s literally hanging by#a thread#one minor inconvenience and she snaps#and she’s kinda fed up with her sisters not taking things as seriously as she does#but she also can’t do much about it because she can’t go too far with her siblings#she adores them but she thinks they’re not as competent as she is esp daniela#she’s like this borderline perfectionist who can’t handle things getting out of control#the line where she calls cass messy says that much because she was not impressed by what her sister has done#i think she’s just quick to snap and we’ve seen plenty of that in the game#but like— she doesn’t show this side when her mother is around#always the proper eldest daughter when her mother is present#she loses her shit when mother is not around
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dduane · 1 month
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Hi Diane!
I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.
I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.
Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.
The Young Wizard series.
I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.
I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.
So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!
Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊
And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.
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johnelexpert01 · 1 year
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https://open.spotify.com/track/3D590bJIeuNXLBPx9u7YI4...
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eaterofman · 8 months
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Yandere Coworker Harem x New Hire Reader: A Meeting with the CEO
Follow up to this post
Finally fed up with it all, you decide to leave... but you learn it may not be that easy.
Content Warnings: General creepiness, yanderes, financial manipulation, manipulation, power difference, gaslighting
AN: Holy shit the first part blew up, more so than any post I've ever made on tumblr... ever. Thank y'all, and I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations? Had to ignore a few asks since they were essentially the plot to this part, haha.
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As nice as Jake is... it starts to wear on you. The seclusion from your other coworkers, Warren and Jax's constant attention, it all becomes too much. This was the easiest money you've ever made, but it almost felt... condescending in a way. Seriously, you feel like you haven't actually worked in months, just given simple tasks to complete so that Jax could praise you. Otherwise, you felt like you were just eye candy set in a pretty office. No more, you figure. You make up your mind to go back to HR, it's been a long time coming. They either fix it, or you're gone.
With your mind made up, you return to Leon. He'd been so kind before, surely he'd help, right? As you explain your problems to him, he nods and gently smiles. In your distress, you don't notice his hand moving to cover yours, massaging yours comfortingly. You welcome the comforting sensation, overwhelmed to the point of not really considering the implications. You look into his dark eyes as you finish, silently pleading with him for help.
"That really is something. I'm sorry to hear your experience with the company has been so distressing. Tell me, do you have any proof?"
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His demeanor seems to shift instantly back to the colder man you remember from your first sight of him. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your palm shift into a harsher grip.
"Proof? I-I mean, the cameras have probably caught something?"
You'd say there were eyewitnesses, but all of your other coworkers had been avoiding you. You barely even knew their names...
"Unfortunately, our cameras have been malfunctioning lately, I doubt they'd catch anything. Without any actual witnesses, I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."
"How can you say that without even looking? This place is insane- you know what? I'm just quitting. I can't take this anymore."
You try to remove your hand but he keeps it there. His gaze is suddenly ice cold. He lets your hand go after a few moments of tension, fingers lingering before you yank your hand to your chest.
"Ah, you could quit... but I'd really recommend against it. You'd of course have to pay the dues you signed in your contract, as well as any additional fees. I'm not in charge of finances, but my estimate would be somewhere around... 200 thousand or so?"
You gasp, blood running cold. 200 thousand?! You don't remember signing that, but you also don't recall really reading over the contract in your excitement. You try to think of a way out, surely there had to be some sort of loophole-
"Of course, there's always the option of asking the CEO to change your contract, but..."
You'd tuned anything after that out, insisting to meet with the CEO as soon as possible. Which, to your surprise, was almost immediately. Almost like he'd been... waiting for you? Leon himself lead you to the CEO's room, at the very top of the skyscraper your office resided in. As you're let in, you're met with the biggest office you'd ever seen. It composed of the entire top floor of the skyscraper, massive windows encircling the entire ornate office.
You really try to ignore the feeling that you're walking into a trap.
The CEO was patiently waiting for you. Like a king on a throne, he sat in the middle of the room in front of a surprisingly simple desk. You'd heard of the CEO, Kennedy Grey, but you'd never met him in person before. He had an air of sophistication around him, an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair and a well trimmed beard. His suit was pristine and looked expensive, probably costing more than your entire yearly salary. He smiled, urging the two of you to sit. His eyes glanced over to Leon's, a slight smirk on his face as if the two were in on a joke you weren't.
"So, what brings you two here? I've heard very good things about you from Jax. Things are going well, I presume?"
You fidget, despite his welcoming tone, he felt oddly... menacing. Like you weren't supposed to disagree with him, even if he asked you a question. You begin to explain your issues, but are quickly stopped with a firm look of disapproval when you bring up the idea of leaving the company.
"Now now, we can't have that, can we? With your contract, that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"
Before you can even respond, he simply continues to talk over you.
"No, no it wouldn't. And you've just been such a good worker, we'd just hate to lose you."
"Well, I was actually hoping we could talk about the contract, I just don't think it's fair-" you can barely get your thoughts out as he cuts you off again.
"Unfair? But my dear, you signed it. I'd just hate to get my lawyers involved... they're top of the line, y'know? Besides, you don't actually want to leave, you're just... stressed. What do you need, a paid week off? A bonus for your hard work?"
"No-"
"Well, now that that's done, let's get back to work, shall we? You'll have a bonus on your next pay-"
You've had enough of his condescension and interruptions, it's time for you to interrupt him.
"You know what, I'll take the lawsuit. You people are insane. You can have the money if you want, but I'm out of here."
As you get up, you find you can't. Leon has moved behind you, surprisingly strong arms holding your chair in, preventing you from moving. You look up at him in angered confusion, but he's sharing a look with Kennedy. You once again feel like you're missing an important part of an inside joke again. You try to struggle, but you're stopped as Kennedy interrupts.
"Apartment 101, Evergreen Apartments, right?"
"W-wha-"
"You know, I've been venturing into the rental market recently. Very profitable at the moment. I actually just bought a few buildings in your area, including your little apartment. Such a shame, you know you could do better, right? All you have to do is ask..."
He smiles at you as if this was a normal conversation to him, like he was doing you a favor.
"I guess that makes me your landlord now, if you think about it!" his smile turns colder, eyes crinkling like he's laughing at you, "That being said, I just don't see how you're going to pay for the rent increase without this job. I hate to do it, but it's a necessity, y'know? Cost of living and such."
He waves his hand like it's no big deal, like he isn't playing with your livelihood and threatening you.
"You could move out, of course, but well, word gets around, and I just don't know how the other investors in the area would react to your... history."
You feel dread well up in the pit of your stomach and tears in your eyes. He... has you. What could you even do? Moving out of the city would mean starting over, and that's if you could even find a place and a job to pay for said place, and paying for the lawsuit-
In your panic, you can only whimper, "I just... why? Why me? i don't understand-"
"That's the beauty of it all, you don't have to. All you have to worry about is coming in and doing your job. We'll handle all the rest."
You jump, having almost forgotten Leon was behind you in your panic. You go to open your mouth-
"Wonderful insight, Leon. Now that we're all on the same foot, let's get back to work, shall we?"
You can only numbly nod your head, too overwhelmed to continue fighting.
You're finally allowed to sit up and begin walking towards the door, trying to speed walk out of the huge room that somehow managed to feel claustrophobic. You just wanted out at this point, you needed somewhere to think.
As you step into the elevator, Leon staying behind in the office-thank god-you're interrupted one final time.
"Oh, and I meant what I said. If you ever need any assistance, anything at all, just come to me. All you have to do is ask."
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artistopencalls · 1 year
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💚 @goodhartartistresidency The call is now open for visual artists, writers, and composers/songwriters. See our website for details and the application link 💚 https://linktr.ee/goodhartartistresidency ⬅️ #GoodHartArtistResidency #ArtistResidency #MichiganArt #residency #artists #composers #composer #songwriters #songwriter #songwriting (at Good Hart, Michigan) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmhodmIoavI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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esouliie · 4 months
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DONT POKE THE BEAR.
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader
– synopsis | you’re known to be quite a tease, especially for your girlfriend, but what happens when you push her too far? will she be able to control herself or will you force her hand?
– warnings | smut, thigh riding, wanda wants to be your mommy hehe, strap on (r!receiving), orgasm denial duh, she eats it from the back :33, face slapping, crybaby reader again, wanda is kinda mean and punishes you ig but she’s so cute with it idc. (18+)
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As you entered the room, you couldn’t help but freeze at the sight before you. There she was, the tall and intimidating woman you had grown so fond of, tucked snugly in bed with a book in hand. But what caught you off guard were the glasses perched on her nose – the nerdiest looking frames you had ever seen.
You felt a bubbling laughter rise within you, threatening to burst out uncontrollably. It wasn't just the glasses themselves, but the stark contrast they created against her usual, intense demeanor. You had never seen her in glasses before, and the image was both endearing and hilarious.
Struggling to contain your amusement, you approached your side of the bed cautiously, trying not to let on that you were on the verge of laughter. But a few giggles slipped and she looked up from her book, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and you quickly composed yourself, managing to offer a sheepish smile instead.
“What's so funny?" She asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
Unwilling to lie, you admitted, “you look like a nerd,” and unable to hide your amusement now, you laughed freely.
She was used to your teasing, your playful jabs that never fail to stir her up. In another universe, perhaps, she'd have you over her lap, your apologies tumbling out as you, painfully, realise the extent of your teasing and how mean it was to tease your mommy…
But in this universe, she couldn’t. Not until you were ready.
So she simply chuckled, “and you look like a goof,” eyes trailing down to between your legs, paying close attention to your underwear…
Your bow print underwear.
“Hey! I’ll have you know you loved this goofy apparel the other day.” You cocked your head to the side, stretching up on your knees so your vest rides higher, revealing the top of your underwear where a little pink flower resides, “You loved it so much, I believe you were unable to keep your hands off of me.”
You were obviously right.
Wanda had a thing for you in cute panties instead of sexy lingerie, seeing as stocking and garter belts were more her speed.
Ever the tease, you pulled the duvet off the woman, sending the book flying - as if you even cared - before straddling her warm thighs.
“Oh yeah?” She retorted unemotionally. She wasn’t going to give into your bratty behaviour, no matter how cute you looked on top of her.
“Oh yeah.” You replied mischievously, with a few rolls of your hips. But her hands had latched on before you could continue, halting all your attempts to turn her on.
“Not tonight.”
“Come on, nerd.” You whined, hands attempt to pry hers of your hips. “It’s not even late yet.”
Unmoving, she replied, “don’t call me that.”
“What? You are though.” You ran over her appearance once again, her red curls held high in a loose ponytail as her baby hairs flew abashedly in each direction.
So fucking cute and yet so sexy.
You leaned forward, chest brushing hers. “I mean, who would’ve thought the big, bad Scarlet Witch would need nerdy glasses.”
“What did I say, moya lyubov?” She warned but your fingers only toyed with the arms of her frames, forcing the lenses up and down with each push.
Your incessant need to push buttons drew you closer to a point of no return. Your girlfriend could only take so much more before she snapped.
“Aw is the little witch crying?” You fake cooed, hands playing with the ends of her hair, ready to pull as you deliver the final blow.
“Only a true nerd would get so upset about being called one.”
Pain heated her scalp as her neck was yanked back, but only for a second as you let go of the pressure. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and anger as she grabbed under your armpits, hauling your off her lap like a ragdoll before pinning your wrists above your head.
You felt a surge of fear mixed with a strange excitement as she held you in place, having pushed Wanda so much she’s actually snapped. No longer the collective, push-over girlfriend she had portrayed herself as.
“Are you stupid?” She spat, her entire weight resting upon your stomach. “You don’t listen, do you?”
Clearly unfazed by her words, you smile up at the woman, bucking your hips into her. “Well I guess not, Einstein.”
Even without much strength to it, the sound of the slap is loud. Your head ripped to the side as you gasped for air. Soon enough, you found yourself facing the woman above you. The offending hand now cupping your chin, as light fingers danced over your cheek, already turning red.
You went to speak but she shushed you, soft lips pressed over yours. “No more.” Is all she said but you understood what she meant, as you nod slowly.
No more lip tonight.
“I didn’t want to have to do that.” She brushed a few stray tears away, unbeknownst that you had even been crying. “But you were being bad, baby. Not my usual good girl.”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice unsure of the situation you’re in. Wanda looked mad still, really mad, even though you were only joking around.
“I know, baby, but it’s not nice to be mean to me like that.”
“I was only joking…” You looked away, unable to stand her cold gaze any longer.
Her grip on your chin returned to bring your eyes back to hers. “And I told you to stop, didn’t I?”
You nodded weakly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. You knew she was right, but you didn’t think you hurt Wanda that much. Not enough for her to slap you anyways.
She released her hold on you, moving back against the headboard before pulling you back onto her lap.
She watched you for a second, nothing your refusal to meet her eyes. You looked ashamed, but not too phased of the situation.
“You okay?” She asked, palms resting soothingly on your bottom.
“I’m okay.” You replied as you twirled her nightgown in your fist. “My cheek hurts though.”
“Good.” With that, she pulls you forward, starting a slow steady pace against her stomach, fingers groping, as you take the pleasure with gratitude.
You gasped at the friction, and Wanda chuckled when she felt the damp patch across your panties. “Oh. You liked that, didn’t you? Like when I hurt you, baby?”
Not knowing if she really wanted an answer, you nodded quickly. Hands holding tighter onto her shoulders as you try to speed up, but she moved you off her.
She stood up, leaving her glasses on her bedside table, working her way over towards the wardrobe. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Now let’s see how you like to be teased.”
You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and Wanda stepped between your legs, the red dildo pressing against your chest as she strokes it like it was actually her own.
“Do you like it?”
“You know I was the one that bought it for you.” You couldn’t help but say with a playful eye roll, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand snaked around your neck, applying immediate pressure before you could even realise.
“Do you want another?” She asked coldly, referring to the red mark now prominent on your cheek.
Fearfully, you shake your head as much as she allows you. “Then stop with the attitude.”
Ignoring your mumbled apologies, she leaned down to kiss you wetly, forcing your mouth open as she shoves her tongue inside.
“Move up.” She pushed you back up the bed, crawling atop you. You sighed, raising your hands to cup Wanda’s breasts spilling from her night slip.
“You want this?” She asked, rocking her hips so the silicone rubbed against your sodden panties.
You licked your lips before circling her hardened nipple. with your thumb. “Yes. Please.”
“Good girl.” She rolled over, moving up to the head of the bed. She sat back, against her pillows and patted her thighs. “Come here.”
You followed her, hands grabbing onto her shoulders. “Like this?” You lifted a leg, straddling across her hips.
“No. Up here.” She removed your hands putting them up on the headboard. “Don’t touch me until I say so.”
Wanda noticed your hesitancy, your eyes solely focused on what’s between her legs. It was bigger than what you usually took.
She guided you to sit slowly, fingers pulling your underwear to the side, feeling yourself stretch around her as you gasped at the intrusion.
“Feels good, baby?” She asked and once again you’re left speechless, only capable of nodding your head stupidly. “Yeah? Your face says it all.”
You rocked your hips slightly, the pleasure all too consuming to stay still much longer.
Wanda chuckled at the state of you, fighting the urge to slap your bottom just to see your timid self jump.
“Come on. Just ride me baby.”
And you did. Your initial shyness long forgotten as you gripped the headboard tighter, and lifted yourself almost all the way off her cock, before bringing yourself back down. You quickly worked yourself up to a steady pace, head dropping low to kiss Wanda hard on the mouth.
She enjoyed the view, tits bouncing within the confinement of your vest, as her dick disappeared inside your swollen pussy. She pushed her thumb against your covered clit, your movement faltering for a moment at the added pressure, before feeling your orgasm start to take over.
“Don’t.”
You heard her say and your eyes snapped open.“What?”
“Don’t come. Stop.” She grabbed your hips, stopping you from moving.
“What? Why?” You asked breathless. You could feel yourself pulse around her, your orgasm fading from view as your body willed you to move, to chase it.
“I told you.” She pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m going to tease you. Now, start again. Go slow.”
You whimpered softly and began riding her again, trying not to go too fast. You managed a good pace, each thrust at the same speed as you rocked against her.
“Ah. Slower.”
You huffed, halting all together, before thrusting into what felt like too slow of a motion to make you come. Besides, your thighs had started to burn as you kept moving at this pace for what felt like hours.
“Wanda.” You mumbled, unable to hold onto the headboard any longer, your arms wrap tight around her shoulders, wanting to feel the woman pressed close against you.
She didn’t give you permission to touch but couldn’t find it within herself to reprimand you when you’ve been listening to her so well.
She stroked your curls from your face. “That’s a good girl.” She cooed soothingly, “Such a good girl. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to come.” You said, voice akin to a whine.
She pressed a few kisses across your face, “You’re going to have to ask nicer than that.”
You made a sound, something between a laugh and a sob, as tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, Wanda.” You paused, sinking further down until she was all the way inside you.
“Keep moving, baby.” She pulled your hips forwards and backwards. “Like this. Nice and slow.”
“So beautiful.” She whispered into your hair, trailing more kisses across your face until she reached your lips.
Your pleas fell on silent ears for a while longer as Wanda worked you up to your limit. Not wanting to overstimulate you but just pushing enough to see how far she can go. How far she can push you into that little headspace she wants to keep you in. “Okay, baby. You need to do exactly what I tell you, okay?”
You hummed and she continued. “You need to get off me and go lay down on your stomach.”
It took a second for your brain to compute what she said, but you did so willingly, and your cunt ached at the feeling of being so empty.
“Good girl. Now, on your knees, I need to put a pillow under your hips.” To which you did, as Wanda positioned her pillow under you. You went to lay down, all too familiar with this position, but hands on your waist stopped you.
A warmth spread across you as Wanda licked up your ruined underwear. The white cotton stuck to you she could see the outline of your pussy so vividly. She moaned at the taste, and you whined embarrassingly loud, pushing your hips back into her face, hoping she’d let you come this time. But she pulled always, as the telltale signs of your orgasm come forth, and knocked you off balance, falling into the soft duvet under you.
“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” She ran soothing hands up and down your back, before pulling your underwear off of you.
She didn’t want to keep you waiting much longer, deciding two denials was enough for your first time.
“You taste so good, but I want you to come on my cock, okay? I promise Im going to let you come this time.”
You mumbled an okay and she took that as the initiative to slide into you. She slowly pulled out and drove back in, in a swift, hard motion, eliciting a loud, surprised moan from you. She repeated this for a little while, watching her dick disappear inside you, only pulling out to thrust back in with vigour, each time causing a moan to escape your lips.
“Please. Faster.” You managed to say and she took pity.
“Okay, baby. No more teasing.” She began thrusting vehemently into you, her own groans mixing with yours as the toy applied pressure to her nerves. Noticing how your body trembled, she leaned forward, the position allowing her to move deep inside your walls, as she boldly swiped her tongue over the shell of your ear, lightly biting the lobe.
One hand moved from beside your head, distributing some of her weight to your lower back as she sat up, the shift causing her to fuck up into the front of your walls.
“Come for me.”
To her surprise, you didn’t come right away. Your body too concerned with what felt like electric shocks as you thrashed under Wanda’s body.
Words melted into nothing as they were cut off by a strangled cry, tears streaming down your face onto the bed.
She turned you over, careful not to pull out as you’d clamped down on her, as she descended upon your lips. “Oh, my good girl.” Her lips moved up over your eyes, “You did so good for me.”
You chose to use what little energy left to wrap your arms around Wanda, pulling her flush to your body as you shook through the after waves.
She whispered sweet nothings as her fingers run upon and down your side until you calmed down.
“You okay, baby? You need anything?”
You hummed, exhaustion evident in your voice. “No, that was fun.” You kissed her lips, playfully poking your tongue at her.
“But you’re still a nerd.”
She scoffed but rolled over, not missing the way your grimace as she pulled out.
“I should’ve slapped you harder.” She mumbled, as she quickly discarded the toy, pulling the duvet over you both, fearing sleep would come quick with how long you guys had been at it.
Oh well, she’d just have to teach you a lesson some other day.
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reasonsforhope · 15 days
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Former President Donald Trump was found guilty of 34 felonies by the jury in his "hush money" trial in New York on Thursday, making him the first former president in U.S. history to be convicted of a crime.
The jury, composed of 12 Manhattan residents, found that Trump illegally falsified business records to cover up a $130,000 payment to adult film star Stormy Daniels before the 2016 election. They found him guilty on all counts on their second day of deliberations.
The presumptive Republican nominee for president is now also a convicted felon, a label that could reverberate across the electorate in the months between now and Election Day in November.
The verdict was handed down in the same Manhattan courtroom where Trump has been on trial for the past six weeks. Trump stared at each juror as they confirmed their vote to convict and angrily denounced the decision in the hallway outside the courtroom, vowing to fight the conviction.
Jurors sided with prosecutors who said that Trump authorized the plan to falsify checks and related records in an effort to prevent voters from learning of an alleged sexual encounter with Daniels. Prosecutors from Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg's office said the conspiracy spanned his 2016 campaign and continued well into his first year in the White House. Trump denied having sex with Daniels and pleaded not guilty.
Justice Juan Merchan set a sentencing date of July 11, just four days before the start of the Republican National Convention, where Trump will be formally nominated as the party's standard-bearer. He could face up to four years in prison and a $5,000 fine for each count, but Merchan has broad discretion when imposing a sentence, and could limit the punishment to a fine, probation, home confinement or other options...
The Biden campaign warned that former Trump's conviction doesn't prevent him from winning another term in the White House from a legal standpoint. 
"There is still only one way to keep Donald Trump out of the Oval Office: at the ballot box. Convicted felon or not, Trump will be the Republican nominee for president," the campaign's communications director Michael Tyler said in a statement.
-via CBS News, May 30, 2024. Live updates: 7:36 pm, 7:23 pm Eastern Time
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Note: Even if Trump gets reelected, he cannot pardon himself in this case, because this is a state-level conviction. The president can only pardon people convicted of federal crimes, not people convicted by the states. (x, x)
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