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cursedmoon-doll13 · 11 months

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If It Serves You.

(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)

Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.

READ WITH CAUTION

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.

Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.

Dividers by @/saradika

Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-

“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”

You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.

“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”

“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.

“Of course, of course you can.”

Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”

His laughter rings rather hollow.

“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”

You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.

You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.

“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.

“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”

He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.

“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.

The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:

“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”

He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.

As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.

Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.

Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.

You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers.

But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily.

The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.

“Amortentia,” you try next. No response.

You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue.

“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.”

Nothing.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”

A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.

You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office.

Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.

No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.

“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath.

“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?”

He spat that last word as if it was a curse.

“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.”

Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…

You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.

Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great.

“Did you now?” He sneers.

In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin.

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.”

Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra.

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.”

Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-”

“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.

“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage.

(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)

“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”

The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough.

Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit.

“Stop,” Snape orders.

At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes.

Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps…

“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey.

Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew.

“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.”

“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.

“Headmaster…”

You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden.

The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.

“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you.

You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard.

Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile.

“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.”

You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream.

But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth.

A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches.

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face.

His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw.

Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue.

“Swallow it. All of it.”

You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily.

“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.”

Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing.

His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:

“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit.

“Yes!” You choke out.

“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock.

“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!”

He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.”

It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself...

One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate.

“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.”

Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and—

Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes…

I even once wished I could brush away the strands…

Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort.

Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:

“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.

No, of course you don’t expect—

No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—

“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…”

“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again.

Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming.

“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.”

“Please what, ___?”

You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out.

“Please, fuck me!” you plead.

You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.

Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table.

“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?”

What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class…

“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.”

In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived.

Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars.

“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan.

“And do you? Do you want this…?”

He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers.

“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain.

But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk.

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.”

Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving.

“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.”

He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…

“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head.

“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.”

Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.

“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.

Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood.

“___… When you cum, you cum for me.”

Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—

Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.

The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.

After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape.

There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is.

“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.

Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew.

There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will.

You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’

After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.

In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.

You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.

You flick your wand and flush out the light.

No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.

A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.

You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.

They should leave those matters to you.

Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.

When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.

Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.

He offers you a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

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chiosblog · 1 year

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'The way we always feel at home'

#The title is taken from 'The Way We Talk About a Song' by flor #bkdk #dkbk #bkdk fanart #katsuki bakugou #izuku mydoria #domestic fluff #mha fanart #bakudeku #katsudeku #my art stuff

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wormspoodle · 1 year

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epic “once in a lifetime” talking heads music video reference amiright guys

#see its funny because #in the video/ song they say same as it EVER was #which is like the title of the iconic tmnt 2003 episode #same as it never was #so I drew them doing the iconic pose #except the scene in the video that the pose is from does not match the corresponding lyrics #so ignore that #anyways #tmnt 2003 #2003 tmnt #tmnt 2003 donnie #tmnt 2003 leo #tmnt 2003 raph #tmnt 2003 mikey #tmnt 2003 april #tmnt sainw #sainw

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leonw4nter · 5 months

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Is It The Look In Your Eyes Or Is It This Dancing Juice?

Husband!DI!Leon x Reader

It’s 2002 and you’re deep in the Amazon rainforest on a mission called “Operation Javier” to track down a drug lord involved with bioterrorism. It was a cold and punishing night: pouring rain, winds that you swore could tear the roof from you and Leon’s shared tent, and the deafening cracks of thunder that followed after a bright flash of lightning. An unspoken pretense of being asleep lingered in the tent but you both knew that sleep seemed impossible to have that night.

“Can’t sleep?,” you softly ask first.

“You too?,” Leon asks back.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You shift in your sleeping bag, turning over to face Leon. He laid on his back, forearm on his forehead. Your gaze followed the veins in his arm, thinking to yourself that he would look breathtaking with a rolled-up dress shirt and maybe some gel to his pretty hair.

“You’re staring,” he says after some time.

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, right.”

You two fell back into comfortable silence, staring at the roof of the tent that shielded you both from the harsh elements. You remembered how you adored rainy nights like these back in Raccoon City, fondly reminiscing the soft pitter-patter of raindrops against your bedroom window. You wish you still had that fondness of rain to make your current predicament feel better, even for just a little bit.

“I used to own a walkman. I loved the hell out of that thing– took it to school, the park, church– everywhere basically,” he says. A fond chuckle leaves his lips and you close your eyes, relishing in how adorable he sounded.

“I only had five songs in it but I never got tired of each one. I listened to those songs on repeat no matter the mood. On nights like these, I fell asleep listening to the songs to drown out the thunder but the walkman’s lost now. I don’t know what happened, it’s gone now. I miss him,” he finally says. He finally turns over, looking at you with what seemed like a sliver of a smile on his slightly chapped lips.

“Seems like you really loved that thing.” “Yeah, could possibly qualify as my greatest love.”

“Greatest love? Big thing to say about it.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You proved to Leon that he’s wrong with his walkman being his greatest love because he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him ten years after this conversation. Now you’re on your shared bed in your shared home, surfing through eBay for walkmans from his time. You remembered how his blue irises served as a sky for the stars that shone when he talked about and you never thought his eyes could shine brightly for anything or anyone else but that’s where you’re wrong. After a few minutes of scrolling, you managed to find a walkman from the 80s in perfect condition and some tapes with songs you know he likes. With a few clicks, you placed the order and paid. Lucky for you, the order would arrive a day or two before his birthday. Smiling, you turn your laptop off and return it to your drawer. Leon was on the other side of the country, currently on a mission. Many times you have convinced Leon to lay back and retire but you both know that it’s easier said than done.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Hunnigan managed to get me a month-long vacation. I’m all yours for an entire month,” Leon says as he walks out of the shower, towel in hand to dry his brown locks.

“You deserve it, honey. How does a tropical getaway sound? Or would you prefer we stay at home instead,” you ask.

“I’m content with anywhere as long as it’s with you and you’re happy about it,” he says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, his stubble tickling your skin.

You were about to say something when the doorbell rang, prompting Leon to temporarily stop drying his hair and turn his focus to the door. You excused yourself, skipping to the front door and only parting the door slightly so Leon wouldn’t see the package you got a week or two ago. You handed over the bills you were going to pay with and thanked the delivery man before walking back to Leon, the box behind your back.

“What was that for?,” Leon asked.

“Nothing,” you say as you fight back a giggle.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Leon remarks.

“Seriously, it’s really nothing!”

“Fine. I’ll let this slide because I love you.”

“You’re the best!”

It was hard to hide the surprise from him not because he was actively trying to find out what it was but because he was home most of the time. It wasn’t like you could slip out of bed while he was sleeping and wrap his gift up, he’s a light sleeper and the crinkling of paper would wake him so the only solution you found was to send him on a grocery run. As soon as he left the door, you quickly took the walkman and the paper bag and began wrapping it. Since you still had time to spare, you decided to quickly draft a heartfelt birthday greeting and placed it inside the brown bag. Your gift was complete, ready to make Leon’s special day.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon had opted for a simple get-together at home, along with Chris, Claire, Jill, Rebecca, and Hunnigan. Unlike the others, Leon didn’t touch a single glass of alcohol since he’s recovering from his drinking problem and instead settled on cakes and the pasta you made. He was coming into the kitchen for another slice of cake when you walked up from behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Happy birthday, big boy,” you softly say as you press your cheek into his firm back.

“Thanks honey, I really appreciate all this,” he says with sincerity as he turns around and hugs you back.

“Save that for when I’ll give you your gift” “Oh?”

You take the brown paper bag from where you’ve hidden it and give it to him. He looks to you, silently asking permission to open it up to which you nod. He tries to guess what you could’ve gotten him, saying whatever item comes to mind. “A shaving set? New wallet? Gift card?”

“Just open it up!,” you excitedly say.

“Alright, alright!”

He opens the bag up, his hand reaching until his hands feel something and pulls it back up. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the walkman due to his surprise. He stares at you, mouth parted as all the words get stuck in his throat.

“Honey! A walkman! Oh my God, thank you so much,” he happily says. He walks over to you, pulling you in for a rib-shattering hug and rocks you side to side. He pulls away and peppers your face with kisses before settling on your warm lips, a smile pressed against your own.

He spends the rest of the evening tinkering with the walkman, proudly showing your present off to everyone in the room. You decide to busy yourself with doing the dishes, giving Leon some time by himself to relish the fact that you helped him relive his childhood.

“I’m so lucky to have them in my life, Hunnigan, you don’t understand!,” you overhear, which prompts laughter from the guests.

NOTE - Happy New Year everyone! Hope everyone's feeling great, 2024 will be your year! I don't exactly like this work but I still hope you'll enjoy it 😭 I'm tempted to write another hockeyplayer!Leon fic since I'm currently having a brainrot over him and Russ Callaghan from Wildfire. I'm also planning to make a directory post to all my fics (maybe later). I might start to post less later this week because class is starting and I've got so much tests waiting for me (wish me luck!!) That's it and Happy New Year again!!!!!

The film dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #rebhfun #real ones know which song i titled this fic from

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oddishblossom · 1 year

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We got something going on. Sail away with me to another world

BANANA FISH Episode 18: Islands in the Stream

#bananafishedit #dailyshounenai #fyanimegifs #anisource #useraslaanjade #animangaboys #banana fish #asheiji #my gifs!#ash lynx #eiji okumura #gif set #1K!#i think it’s clever that the episode titles are named after american classic novels #i was originally gonna use a quote from the book as the caption #but when i heard the dolly parton song of the same name i saw how it fit better ❤️

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theecholegend · 1 month

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Shattered

Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart

#A much more depressing vibe #Guess I felt somber enough for it #I actually really like how this unique style came out!#The title and lyrics there are from the song Shattered by trading yesterday #listened to it while drawing this so thought it fit #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #linked universe fanart #echo’s artworks #This started off as me using an old profile sketch that I liked and just working with it until I knew what I wanted

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killjoy-prince · 3 months

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House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode

#house md #prince's talk tag #flashing #repitition #so as i was watching this show i noticed they'd say the episode title in the episode #so i wanted to see how many times they did it #the people on livejournal who made transcripts of the episodes are my saviors and without them this would of been so much harder to do #thank you all for your service and i hope wherever you all are you're having a great day #sometimes they would use a variation of the word like in the episode poison they would say 'poisoned' or 'poisoning'#i did not include those instances #there was an instance in 'merry little christmas' where they do play the song in the show #but since ella fitzgerald was not a character in the show i did not include it #where as in the episode 'joy to the world' the students are singing it in the concert so i did include that #i apologize for the tonal whiplash when you get to that part but it did make me laugh #one of the times kutner says 'locked in' is overshadowed by the POTW's voice over but i assure you he says it and thats why its in there #out of the main characters from the one who said the title the most to least are #House > Foreman > Wilson > Chase > Cuddy > Adams > Cameron and Taub > Kutner > Thirteen and Park #this took a bit to do lolol its probably been done already but i wanted my own #there is a chance im missing some on technicalities but idc. im fine with this #there are two more i wanna do but with a character saying another character's name but ill do that some other time #EDIT: When I was making this video I was unaware that the Pilot episode went by two names: 'Pilot' and 'Everybody Lies'#Basically everywhere I looked the first episode was only referred to by 'Pilot'#which I found weird bc i remember seeing somewhere that the last episode was paired with the first episode in terms of title #but i couldn't find hard proof so I decided to leave it out at the time #well i checked again last night and yea the pilot IS also called Everybody Lies so I updated the video #I also think it goes well with the fact that House does say 'Everybody Dies' in the finale so another reason to fix it #AND he says it without Wilson while he and Wilson say the title of the pilot sooooo yea hehehehehe

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saessenach · 8 months

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a path, but not a plan

Sophos and Irene in A Conspiracy of Kings, a gift illustration I made for @alecjmarsh as part of the @hamiathesgiftexchange

#the queen's thief #a conspiracy of kings #sophos #attolia irene #megan whalen turner #tqt #my art #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #procreate #fanart #digital art #title is from asaf avidan's labyrinth song #which suits sophos to a t #this was lots of fun to draw

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cyberghouleo · 9 months

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“She won't ever get enough once she gets a little touch”

Tim Wright x Bimbo! Reader

Tim starts becoming infatuated with someone he was supposed to be stalking. After weeks of being around you, he decides he can't take it anymore.

cw : bimbo! fem reader, fingering, cunnilingus, dom Tim, dumbification

wc : 2.8k

ao3 link:

a / n : requests are open !!

Tim couldn’t take it, he couldn’t hold back anymore. What started off as a mission to get information out of you was starting to turn into an infatuation with you. And it wasn’t his fault, it was yours. You were the one who just had to wear the tiniest skirts he had ever seen out in public or wearing the tight crop tops that you often forgot to wear a bra with. Or the heels you could hardly walk in, causing you to stumble out in public and show your ass off to him.

He never planned on getting caught stalking you, he just wanted to be a silent watcher from your window as you played with yourself late at night or when you changed right in front of the window with the curtains wide open. But one night, he followed you too closely from work and he was sure his cover was blown. He figured as soon as you saw him, you would scream and tell him to fuck off. But it never came. Instead, you talked to him like he was a normal person and not someone who has been jerking off to the sight of you outside your window for the past few weeks. You were so dumb and naive when it came to your surroundings, you made everything so easy for him. All it took to get your number was lying about being a neighbor, and you were instantly giving him it. When you bent over to type your number in his phone, your tits almost spilled out your shirt. That’s when Tim knew he had to befriend you so he could get closer to making you his.

Playing your fake friend wasn’t a hard task, you mostly just called him or asked him to come over to your house, a house he already knew the entire floor plan from stalking you at night. You always wore the skimpiest clothes around him, short dresses that you never seemed to close your legs in, giving him a clear view of the tiny thong you were wearing. You often got your white shirts wet, showing off the lace bra underneath clearly. After you “befriended” him, it only gave him more chances to see you in sexual ways without you realizing it. You often would bend over in front of him, showing off your pink panties with no shame or realization.

However, as Tim played along as your neighbor/friend, he also saw just how naive and oblivious you were. You would tell him stories about your day and tell him the inappropriate things said to you, asking him to explain what it meant since you didn’t understand it. The idea of another man taking advantage of your intelligence and naivety to get a quick flash made him angry enough to want to track down the person and kill them for that alone. He hardly killed outside of required missions but anybody who disrespected you or got to get the same peeks that he got were the only exceptions.

The moment that made Tim finally lose it was when he was watching you walk home from the store. This was a normal occurrence that happened as he promised to himself that he would make sure you got home safely every day. You were walking through a crowded area when someone smacked your ass, running away laughing as you stood there confused and looking around for the assaulter. You gave up after a few seconds and continued walking home. He had already tracked the person down and gave them the deserved slow death, but he also needed to come over to put an end to this chase. He needed to make you his so you could have someone protect you in the public so nothing like this would happen again.

It was late in the afternoon when three loud knocks came from your door. You were wearing your usual short skirt and crop top as you opened the door, revealing a pissed off Tim wearing his usual flannel and jeans. Before you could open your mouth to greet him, he burst through your door as soon as you answered, pushing past you and storming into your living room.

“What’s wrong Tim?” You asked, head tilted and lips open slightly. Tim almost didn’t hear your question as he was focused on your lips, thinking how hot they would look wrapped around his cock as your mascara ran down your face.

He hissed, “You.” You bite the inside of your cheek, your head tilting to the side even more. “You’re the fucking problem, you’re such a tease to me.”

You stared at him blanking, not quite understanding what he meant. “Are you upset with me?” You asked, your arms coming together which caused your tits to be pushed together. You were going to be the death of him if you kept acting this way. He brought his fist up to his mouth, giving you a quick nod. Your lips formed into a cute pout. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

The question was almost too easy, it felt like a set up. He stared at you for a second to see if you were being serious or not before he responded. “I think the only way to make this up to me is to let me do something.”

You quickly nodded your head up and down, eyes wide open and full of hope. “Okay! I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, Tim.” God you were so fucking cute and so eager to please, it was a sight that could make him cum on the spot.

“Good girl, if you do what I say I’ll forgive you.” You really didn’t want to lose him as a friend, so you believed him. He had never given you a reason to doubt him before. You nodded in response as he approached you, his hand coming up to cup and caress your cheek. You leaned into the touch, eyes closed as you let out a sigh of content. It was endearing to see how much you trusted him, even after all the disgusting fantasies he thought of while he spied on you in your own house.

He started to lean towards you, his eyes locked on your lips that shone with lip gloss. As soon as your lips met he started kissing you desperately, your soft moans filling his mouth as his hand found its way to the back of your head, tangling itself into your hair. He tilted your head back to get a deeper kiss, you moaned as he tugged on your hair. You pushed your body into his, your chest pressed against his as your lips moved in sync with each other. His other hand rested on the small of your back, pressing you closer into him. This was the closest he had gotten to you before, and your smell was intoxicating to him. He pulled away from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips together for a split second. Your face was starting to heat up and your lip gloss was already smeared off your lips.

His hand traveled from your lower back to the front of your stomach, fingers slowly creeping under your crop top as he kissed along your neck. You moaned out softly as his hand groped your tit, he was never more thankful that you weren’t wearing a bra today. His fingers traced around your nipple before placing his thumb and pointer finger around it, slightly pinching as he felt it harden underneath his touch. You let out soft moans as you continued to push your body against his, desperate to get as close as possible to his touch. Your body was responding to his touches before your mind could, instinctively addicted to his touch as you felt heat start to pool within your stomach. While continuing to pinch your nipple, his mouth stopped near the bottom of your neck as he switched from kissing to softly sucking with enough pressure to leave a mark. He wanted everyone to see the mark and know you belonged to someone, specifically him. You let out soft whimpers as he nipped at the skin, moaning out his name quietly under your breath as you rubbed your legs together, desperate to get any type of friction between your legs.

Tim waited forever to hear you moan out his name, and he was starting to grow impatient as his jeans started to tighten up. He pulled away from your neck, his mouth detaching with a ‘pop’ sound before he turned you around, your back facing him. He guided you to bend over onto the kitchen counter, a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you planted against the cold countertop. His other hand quickly found the end of your skirt, flipping it up onto your lower back. Your pink thong and ass were fully exposed to him, the same ass Tim had replayed over and over in his head as he jerked off late at night. He had only ever seen accidental upskirts so far, but now it was fully open to him and only him. His dick strained against his pants as he traced the outline of your slit, your body arching into his touch as you mewled out. His fingers ghosted over your lips, just enough pressure for you to moan out and try to push further back to feel his fingers more. You were such a fucking slut and he has yet to even do anything, he loved it. He slid your panties to the side, exposing your cute pussy to him. He waited for years it felt like to get this close to you, you were so vulnerable to him right now and you were all his.

His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, you were already soaking wet and it only fueled his ego more. This was the wettest he has ever seen you, even when you were using your vibrator alone at night. After coating his middle finger with your wetness, he circled your clit in slow circles, your hips stuttering and grinding against him.

“Puh-Please Tim,” You moaned out.

“Please what?” He kept his slow pace as he pressed himself into you, his dick against your ass and his chest laying against your back. He could smell your shampoo and perfume, and he had to restrain himself from bucking his hips into your ass.

“Please touch me more.”

Hearing you beg underneath him made him instantly stand up straight, ready to show you how eager he has been for this moment and just how good he will make you feel. He removed his hand from your back, telling you to keep still as he kneeled below you. Sitting on his knees underneath you as he stared up at your pussy, he placed his hands on your hips before flattening his tongue, starting with small kitten licks around your clit. The feeling of his tongue against you caused you to gasp out, moaning as he started licking in long deep strokes that started from your entrance and up to your clit. After a few licks, he stopped at your clit and started sucking, an action that causes your knees to buckle as you moan out loudly. Your hands try to grasp anything on the table to stabilize yourself as you feel your body start grinding against his tongue, begging to feel more of him. Tim couldn’t get enough of you, the taste of you made his dick pulse as he palmed himself through his pants. You were unapologetically moaning out loudly as you felt your core start to tighten up, heat from between your legs had started to spread throughout your whole body.

As soon as you started to grind weakly against his tongue, Tim pulled away with a sloppy wet sound as you groaned out from the lost contact. You were so close to cumming and needed him to push you over the edge of an orgasm. Tim stood up from underneath you, now standing behind you as you stayed bent over the countertop, your back falling up and down rapidly with your increased breathing.

“Timmm…” You whine out, your voice slightly muffled. Tim’s nails pressed crescent shaped indents into his palm as he clenched his fist, trying to distract himself from how hot his name sounded rolling off your tongue.

“Hmm?” He responded as his hand traced your ass slightly, the contact making you push your body against his hands even more.

“I want…I want you to make me cum.”

Hearing you moan this out made his hands instantly leave your body, reaching down to unzip his pants to pull his dick out. Precum was already leaking from his tip and down his length as he gave a few lazy strokes. His hand found your hip, resting there as he started to line himself up with your hole. You grinded up and down as soon as you felt his dick in between your thighs, mewling out as you desperately needed him inside of you now.

“God, you're such a pathetic slut for letting me do all this naughty stuff to your body. You're such a whore for letting me touch you this way, you know that?”

You moaned out a yes as you felt him start to stretch you out, his cock slowly entering you with ease. It took all of his restraint to not thrust deep into you, as badly as he wanted this, he also knew he was going to have to start off gently.

“You're so eager to make me happy, aren't you baby?” He didn’t mean to call you by the pet name but it came out so naturally he didn’t mind.

“Mhmmm… I just… want you happy, Tim.” Hearing you moan out his name made him let out a long groan.

Slowly, he pulled out and pushed back in until he bottomed out, both of you letting out moans at the sensation. The way you squeezed and tightened around him made him second guess how long he was going to be able to last inside you. You started wiggling your hips against him, thrusting back and forth against him as you started to grow impatient. The sight of you underneath him had Tim feeling as if he was dreaming, how badly you wanted him to start fucking you and how tight you were clenched around him.

His hands travel down to grip your waist before he started thrusting in and out at a slow speed. You let out a small gasp as you feel him start fucking you, trying to push your body against him to match his thrusts to pick up the speed. Tim takes the hint, quickening his thrusts as you moan out below him. The girth and size of him was hitting spots that you weren’t used to, a hot knot already starting to form as your nails scraped along the countertop as you struggled to find anything to hold onto while he pumped in and out of you.

The orgasm sweeps through your body as you clamp down around him, moans pouring out as drool spills from your lips and onto the counter below you. Tim continues to fuck you through your orgasm as you come down, your clit sending pulses through your body as you feel yourself start to twitch around him. Feeling how tight you were around his dick causes his grip on your hips to tighten, his fingers pressing deep into your skin as he tries to focus on anything but cumming now.

After trying to wait as long as possible, Tim gives a few weak thrusts in and out before he pulls out, instantly missing the grip your pussy had around him as his hand wraps around his dick and he starts pumping up and down. Cum spurts from his dick in long thick hot ropes as you feel it hit your lower back and spread around your ass, deep guttural grunts escaping him as he gritted his teeth. You stay still as you both try to catch your breath, Tim’s chest heaving up and down as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. He couldn’t remember the last time he was as worn out as he was now, but he also couldn’t remember a time he was this horny. Before he could grab something to clean off his cum from your ass, you looked back at him over your shoulder, your makeup now smeared and a fucked-out expression painted on your face.

“How else can I make you happy Tim?” You asked with a small smile that Tim returned with a grin as he felt himself start to get hard again.

#masky x reader #tim wright x reader #tim marble hornets #marble hornets #bimbo reader #smut #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #x reader #masky marble hornets #mh masky #tim masky #if writing for bimbos was illegal yall would have to arrest me I CANT HELP IT!!#also feel like i kinda wrote him as a weirdo but hes normal i swear yall #EVERYONE gets to fuck the bimbo they are welcome #also the pink and black is so cute omg my fav colors ahh #title is from 3oh!3 song btw

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