sugatrapp

[sugatrapp]

「 T a p e s 」

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Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Unnamed Female Reader Summary: It's lonely during nights when Carmy isn't beside you. He unknowingly comes up with a solution beforehand. Warnings: Dominant Carmy ~ Masturbation ~ Voyeurism ~ Vulgar language ~ Basically p*rn

A/N: I'm still working on Obsidian pt. 2, but I had to get this one off my chest.

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“Fuck…just like that.”

“That’s it, take it all.”

“Look at me, baby—fuck—that’s right.”

His voice fills your ears through the headphones atop your head. He’s everywhere at once: his scent, his presence, his attention. You imagine his hooded eyes, pupils blown wide while watching you trace the curves of your body with delicate fingers. He was biting his lip while standing over your splayed figure, chest heaving and shifting in place, not knowing whether to let you have your way or take control himself. His cock strained against the already tight material of his uniform slacks, aching for release.

It’s already past 9 p.m. The right side of the bed is cold from regular nights of neglect, making it the perfect place to rest your head as the video unfolds. You know it forwards and backwards, have every word, groan, and orgasm ingrained in your memory. He took it near the beginning of your relationship.

When he first asked for permission to record “just for us,” it intrigued and flattered you. No one ever liked you enough to want to preserve your intimate moments. But the instant the flash trained on you, it seared into your skin like a hundred eyes during a performance. Did you look ridiculous? Desperate? Gross? Would he show it to his friends or, god forbid, post it online?

Your thoughts were a whirlwind a few days after. Your search history was that of a sex crazed degenerate. Your detective hat tingled when he would come over to your apartment and occupy himself with something away from his phone. You didn’t think he was that type of guy, but reading enough horror stories online told you that you couldn’t really know anyone.

Luckily, you never found yourself gracing twitter’s homepage, nor in texts or emails between his friends. Even when spats arose, he didn’t threaten you with eternal embarrassment.

He treated you like royalty.

Now, your gallery is filled with tens of videos to choose from for nights like this. Missing him is a little less heavy on your chest. Instead, it’s warm and sensitive as you pinch your nipples through your thin cropped shirt. You run your fingertips over them in his same teasing manner, biting the corner of your lip. He caressed your cheek with his thumb before tangling them in your hair, guiding your head just the way he liked. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Good girl. You’re doin’ so well for me.”

You make quick work of your shorts, tossing them in the corner of your bedroom. You reach for the silicone toy you placed next to you earlier, almost as thick and veiny as the real thing. It would have to do.

You keep your ass in the air as you return to your position on your stomach. It makes it easier to reach underneath your body and slide the toy between your legs.

You jolt as the tip brushes against your clit then moan when sliding it between your folds, gliding with ease due to the wetness already accumulated.

Your eyes lock on your phone, watching yourself take his cock impossibly deeper, stroking what couldn’t fit in small rotations. His groans and curses send shivers down your spine. You wish he was here so you could taste him again, musk and soap and salt coating your tongue as he grew closer to his release.

Having waited long enough, you position the head at your entrance and lower your hips. Your whine is drawn out as the toy disappears further into your depths. Shuffling in your ears signals the best part. He pulled you on top of him, giving you the camera to record. His face was beet red, brown curls sticking to his forehead. His breaths came in quick pants. Sexy, handsome, utterly debauched.

You ride the toy at the same pace as your past self, slowly, teasing the tip with shallow thrusts before plunging down without warning. You cry out at the same time he did. His hands gripped your hips like a vice, veins protruding along his arms in an effort to hold himself back. God, you wish he hadn’t. You wish he would’ve tossed you like a rag doll, pounded into you with reckless abandon, and told you to suck it up when it was too much.

One after the other, your moans cut through the audio, loud, lewd, and needy. A familiar inkling of shame sets in as you wonder how you must look, rocking your hips back and forth out of rhythm, your essence dribbling down your thighs as the heat in your belly increases.

“C-Carmy,” you whimper.

Almost as if it were happening in real time, his voice filled your ears once more.

“T-That’s it, baby. Ride my cock. Take it. Feels so fuckin’ good. Faster.”

Who are you to deny him anything? You rock your hips faster. Your thighs burn from the exertion, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’re so close, the heat reaching and reaching, getting louder and louder with every thrust. You grip the bedsheets with your free hand, tugging them between your teeth.

Within seconds, you’re tumbling over the edge. Your hips shudder to a stop and your legs slam closed, a scream ripping through your throat. For a long time, you’re gasping for breath, resting your head against your arm. You can’t stop shaking.

Eventually, you come down from your high and are left with pleasant tingling. Looking at the time, you know it won’t be long until Carmy comes home. It’s plenty of time to shower and change the sheets. You take off your headphones, turn, and nearly have a heart attack when you see him leaning against the dresser adjacent to the bed. He’s still in uniform, though his pants are pushed down his thighs. His hard length in hand and covered with his release, it’s no question as to what happened.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you speak softly, crossing your legs and hiding the toy behind your back.

“Been here a while, not that you would’ve noticed.”

Your face warms at his smug grin.

“I…” you scramble for something to say. You settle on, “I have to change the sheets.”

Before you can climb off the bed, he crosses the room and pushes you onto your back.

“Nu-uh, baby. We have unfinished business.”

“We do?”

He hums, nudging your legs open with his knee.

“Have you been doing this behind my back the whole time?”

You glance away, biting your bottom lip.

“I know my rights.”

His fingers caress your hip. “Yeah? I guess I’ll just have to fuck it out of you then.”

[sugatrapp]

「 O b s i d i a n 」

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Part I

Pairings: Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Professor Greeves’s infatuation with the potions master reaches a breaking point when he begins spending more time with his assistant.

Warnings: Lovesick reader ~ Jealousy ~ Angst ~ Use of “they” pronouns ~ Non-specified gender of reader

A/N: The last name Greeves is given but reader is otherwise not described.

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Fridays in Advanced Phylactery Making held a special place in Professor Greeves’s heart. Watching awe light up their students’ eyes after separating the metal from their molds never failed to light a fire of pride in them. The hollow pieces were dim and bare bones, but it was a steppingstone to material that would prove useful beyond their studies.

Sanding was next. Each student was equipped with sheets of wet sandpaper as they hunched over their tables and ran them over their soon to be amulets. Greeves had to correct a few eager ones well on the way to sanding a hole in the frames. It was understandable; they’ve been waiting since fifth year to start crafting. Two whole years of learning theory and writing papers on proper amulet usage left plenty of time to weed out bad apples and encourage those with a genuine interest. Much to their surprise, only two students dropped the course while leaving a majority of thirteen.

They couldn’t ask for better students. It was every professor’s dream to have an engaged, well-behaved class every day. They were the talk around the staff room, including from the potions master. One Monday evening while both professors were heading off to dinner in the Great Hall, he expressed his disbelief after hearing of their students’ accomplishments and quick comprehension.

“Some of the seventh years can hardly brew a Wiggenweld potion, let alone craft a talisman,” he grumbled.

It was a normal day in the Hall. The students talked among themselves while forking down their meals. Greeves noticed a little too late that the only available seats were at his usual end of the table. They struggled to contain the warmth rushing through their face and their trembling hands. Talking with the reclusive dungeon bat was rare in and of itself, but sitting near him during mealtimes was unheard of for them. Even in the three years they’d been at Hogwarts, the opportunity had presented itself only one other time, much less desired back then.

Now, as they piled food onto their plate while continuing to speak about their classes, Greeves was aware of their lingering gaze. It wouldn’t surprise them if he could see the hearts shining in their eyes. His deep drawl caressed their soul with feather light fingers, leaving it a purring mess. His obsidian pools drew Greeves in further into their depths each time their eyes met. They seared their skin when they weren’t looking. And his hair, sleek and majestic, aroused the urge to run their fingers through it.

To say they were smitten was an understatement.

His perfect lips were saying something, yet no words reached their ears.

They wiped the serene smile stretching across their face, attention planted firmly back in the present. Hopefully they weren’t as obvious as they were back then. After a few laps around the rows of tables, the clock hanging above the door signaled the end of class and the end of the school week.

“Great work today everyone. Please bring your projects to my desk and don’t forget to clean your workstations,” they looked pointedly at the student notorious for leaving her area in a whirlwind. She blushed before sweeping her metal shavings into a bin. The rest scrambled to collect their things and turn in their work.

“Next week we will learn how to infuse them with magic, so make sure to begin reading the section in your textbooks,” they called to their retreating forms.

Excited chatter settled over the group, continuing down the hall. While they pondered their plans for the weekend, Greeves had their own to attend to. They opened their bottom desk drawer, retrieving a small drawstring bag. They turned it over in their hand then stowed it away in their pocket with a deep breath. Very big plans indeed.

An embarrassing bounce plagued their steps on their way to the Great Hall. Their stomach growled angrily at their insolence, empty since the lackluster biscuit and jam breakfast they had. They couldn’t entirely blame waking up later than usual. No, the nerves from haunting thoughts of a certain dark-haired man are partially to blame.

Before he grew to tolerate them, Severus hadn’t made it easy to get close to him. Asking him a simple question about his day seemed like a crime. Greeves could admit they didn’t trust others easily either, but there came a time when they had to realize not everyone had bad intentions. They didn’t know why he was so cautious. All they knew was they wanted him to take a chance on them.

The usual cacophony of chatter greeted them as they entered the Great Hall. A couple of students waved at them while they walked down the aisle, which they reciprocated with a smile. It eased their mind slightly from the task at hand.

It’s not a big deal, they thought, just say you want to talk to him about something privately. But would that be too forward? Too weird? Would he want to talk to me at all? They were so lost in their head that they didn’t realize the seat beside him was already occupied. They almost choked on their next breath. There she was, Clara—his newly appointed potions assistant—munching away on grapes while talking to him. Her animated manner of speaking was hard to ignore. Some days it was infectious to a degree.

Today was not one of those days.

When Clara first joined the Hogwarts staff, Greeves didn’t mind her jovial company. It made grading and trips to Hogsmeade more interesting. The stories she told of her muggle life in America fueled their desire to visit it one day. She made an honest effort to get to know each of her colleagues. Though not everyone appreciated her chipper attitude. Severus scoffed at any mention of her. He gave her the treatment he gave every newcomer: one-word answers and avoidance like they were diseased ridden. Clara didn’t heed their warnings about his standoffishness, pacing furiously in their classroom one day with a frown that didn’t fit her face.

“I mean, he didn’t even let me finish what I was saying!”

Greeves recalled similarly their time as a newbie. They didn’t fully accept him brushing them off either, but they learned when not to push him too hard. Clara, not so much.

“Don’t be too upset,” they patted her shoulder before going back to putting up supplies. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“But I want us to be civil at least. He won’t even give me the time of day!”

Greeves smirked, vaguely remembering having the same conversation with Professor McGonagall.

“He’ll come around eventually. Just don’t bombard him so soon, okay? Ease into it.”

She paused her frantic movements to ponder their words then nodded, a determined expression replacing her frown.

“Okay. Thanks, Professor.”

They wouldn’t have bothered if they knew it would lead to that. Their heart pounded against their chest harder the closer they get to the head table. He didn’t look annoyed or even mildly disinterested. He was actually engaging with her. They rounded the table, pausing to address them.

“Hello Clara,” it came out more strained than they intended. “Professor.”

Greeves barely paid attention to her cheery response and focused their attention on him instead. He glanced over for a second and gave a polite nod.

Ouch. It felt like their every move was being ridiculed and scrutinized as they took the available seat next to Professor McGonagall further down the table. They greeted the older woman and made a bit of small talk between bites of pasta. They went into autopilot mode. They didn’t fully comprehend what they or Minerva were discussing. All they could linger on was the fact that Clara had waltzed in and wormed her way into Severus’s good graces much faster than them. Much faster than they had heard from the other professors.

A sudden giggle reached their ears, startling them from their trance. They looked in that direction, regretting it immediately. Clara was cackling at something he said. But what really left their heart heavy was the expression on his face. His fine lines were smoothed out, the corner of his lips raised in a half smile, and a glint in his eyes that reminded them of stars on a moonless night. They never saw him look so…placid.

Greeves sighed, long and defeated. They turned back to their plate where they’d been pushing and prodding at their food. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea to talk to him after all.

“Are you alright, dear?” Minerva interrupted their spiraling thoughts.

They blinked, quickly forcing a smile when the question registered.

“Of course, Professor. Just thinking about the assignments I have left to grade.”

They took another bite of food to sell the lie though grimaced afterwards. It had gone cold. Minerva took one look over her shoulder at what they had been transfixed on before a knowing smirk tugged on her lips.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain professor, would it?”

“No-No, not at all!”

Even they didn’t believe the lie. Their half-hearted denial fell on deaf ears.

“You should tell him how you feel.”

“And if he doesn’t feel the same?”

She placed a warm hand on their shoulder. “Then you’ll know, and you won’t be tormented by constant what-ifs.”

They were still unsure, yet groups of students heading for the exit let them know they didn’t have long to decide. From the corner of their eye, they saw Severus taking his leave, his cloak billowing behind him. Clara was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps Minerva was right. It made sense for them to get along. It would be counterproductive if they despised one another while working together so closely. Or maybe Greeves was setting themselves up for heartbreak. Maybe they were closer than typical colleagues. Either way, they knew they had to do something.

They had to know for sure.

They thanked Minerva for the advice before heading off to their chambers to freshen up.

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Unfortunately for them, patrol duty didn’t wait or care about their prior plans.

The halls were calm apart from the stragglers they caught sneaking around with firecrackers. It was even worse since they now had to serve them with a lengthy detention sentence on Monday. After escorting them back to their respective common rooms, they realized they weren’t far from the potions’ classroom. Past curfew or not, Greeves could count on Severus doing some late-night grading or reading. They figured a slight deviation wouldn’t hurt.

They fished the drawstring pouch from their pocket, a faint blue glow emanating from it in the dim lighting. On they walked toward the dungeons, feeling the gradual shift of temperature to a biting chill. They gave themselves a pep talk the entire way that did nothing to slow their doubts.

The door came into view, left cracked open which he only did when he expected them to drop by. Did he notice their not-so-subtle staring at dinner? Had he been aware of their affection for him the whole time?

They bit their lip as they approached the door, raising their fist to knock when a voice that wasn’t his slashed their resolve.

“It’s refreshing to know someone who’s into the same things as I am. You wouldn’t believe how much I was teased for being a teacher’s pet.”

Clara, Greeves frowned. What was she doing here? They willed their heart to quiet for fear of anyone hearing, leaning closer to hear his response.

“It’s nothing against you personally. Others only fear and envy what they don’t understand.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“My early days were no walk in the park either, but you can’t dwell on the past lest you prove them right. You have a brilliant mind and potions are a viable medium, personal bias aside of course.”

“That means a lot, Severus.”

Heels clicked further away before a pin drop silence settled in. With feathered steps, they inched the door open enough to see what was happening. The moment their eyes focused, they gasped and covered their mouth with both hands. The pouch hit the ground with a muffled clack. They…

A hellscape realized was the only thing close to describing the scene. Their blurry forms pulled away from each other as they questioned the noise, one of them starting towards Greeves. They forced their legs to work, casting the disillusionment spell then taking off running. Patrol forgotten, they didn’t stop until they reached their chambers. Only when the door was closed and securely locked behind them did they allow the building sob to escape. They slid down the doors length until they were on the floor, hiding their face behind their knees.

At least they finally got an answer.

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[sugatrapp]

「 Don't They? 」

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Pairings: Stefano Valentini x Female Reader

Summary: Most days, it seemed like Stefano cared more about his art than her. She was fed up and was prepared to leave. Of course, he wouldn’t allow her to leave so easily. 

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual themes ~ Toxic relationship ~ Unnamed female reader ~ Tentacles ~ Dubious consent ~ Bondage 

A/N: This was supposed to be a piece for Kinktober, but school had other plans. Can’t believe November is already well on its way to being over 🫠 Anyways, enjoy! 💜 

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“I’m leaving.” 

Blunt and to the point. The words echoed over the sea of tables piled high with paints, tools, and half-finished works. His form hovered over an easel, canvas splotched with dark reds and blacks. The brush between his fingers clattered as he dropped it in a bucket of cleaning solution, yet his back continued to face her. 

“We’ve talked about this, love—“ 

She interrupted, “Well this’ll be the last time you hear it.” 

He huffed, swiveling on his heels to humor her. The moment he saw the suitcase, a noticeable tension dampened the mood of the room. Frown fixed upon his lips, he took slow steps toward her. An unsettling flutter settled in her stomach, but she maintained eye contact, bringing herself to full height. 

“And where will you go? How will you support yourself?” 

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern anymore,” she sassed. 

Soon, he was mere inches away from her face, now glaring.  

“No.” 

She rose an eyebrow. 

“It wasn’t a question.” 

“I’m telling you you’re not going anywhere.” 

“Too bad you can’t stop me. Just thought I’d be decent enough to tell you to your face.” 

He clenched his fists at his sides as she dared to turn away from him. A mumbled series of words left his mouth. Before she could process them, the ground rumbled beneath her feet and the back wall of the studio exploded, debris flung into the void. The Aperture floated into view, its sight locked on her. Tendrils stretched out from it on all sides before abruptly rushing to her position. She just barely managed to dodge them, abandoning her suitcase in the process.  

“What the hell Stefano!” She yelled, sliding under a table as a nearby one was crushed to bits. She crawled out from the other side, making a mad dash for the exit. Her heartbeat filled her ears and thoughts of death swarmed her mind. Surely, he wouldn’t kill her?  

Her evasion only fueled his anger, attacks becoming more frequent yet sloppy. The door was in her reach. She could almost taste normalcy, the promise for a fresh start in the city where she could blend in, see new sights and work on herself. It was beautiful. And in that split second of bliss, he had teleported in front of the door, a toothy grin on his face. 

“Going somewhere?” 

She screeched to a halt and stumbled back, right into the grasp of Aperture. Crimson strands tangled around her limbs within seconds. A fruitless struggle ensued as her feet left the ground. Only when they grew tighter did she accept her fate. The heels of his shoes clicked as he strolled over. 

“After everything we’ve been through…” 

He reached up to touch her cheek, but she flinched away before his fingers made contact. His hand returned to his side with a sigh, thinking she’d imagined the glimpse of hurt behind his eyes. 

“Why?” 

“You know why.” 

It’d only been a year since his art gained traction in the mainstream. After years of working freelance in photography and having multiple rejections, he’d finally found a break when a private collector decided to take a chance on his gore inspired paintings. Word of mouth led to many painting and sculpture commissions alike. Money seemed bottomless and the fame wasn’t half bad either. His dream had finally come true like she always knew it would. 

The problems began soon after. Nothing came before work. Dates were cancelled last minute, excuses were made, her feelings were discarded. Everything was about his art.  

It’s only temporary, my love. I could never be too busy for you. 

We are this close to living the life we’ve always wanted. I just need a little more time. 

Please be patient with me. 

It had been months and nothing changed. She stood by his side since the beginning and this was the thanks she got? Being held hostage? 

“I just need more time,” he whispered, a broken record. His hand was back on her body, trailing down her abdomen. 

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she pleaded. Her words went in one ear and out the other as he grew closer and closer to the place she didn’t want. The leather of his glove met her bare skin, sliding underneath her panties to stroke her bundle of nerves. Her eyes closed despite herself, the rough texture expediting the growing heat in her belly. 

“Tell me you don’t feel anything, and I will let you leave.” 

She wanted to scream, ask where he’d gotten the gall to assume she’d stay after everything he’d done. As he continued to toy with her, however, a hunch told her nothing close to what she was thinking would leave her mouth. Though, she made an attempt. 

“I-I don’t—“ 

The tentacle around her throat tightened, cutting her off. At the same time, Stefano slipped two fingers inside and forced a choked moan from her. She squeezed the digits as he set a steady pace, hating the way his expression filled with smug delight.  

“You could never leave me,” he stated, his free hand coming up to squeeze her breast. She hissed when he pinched her nipple through her bra hard enough to bruise.  

“S-So you think,” she managed to get out, struggling against her captors. In that moment, she’d never felt smaller. “I don’t even know you anymore.” 

For a split second, it seemed like she finally got through to him. Those calculating eyes softened around the edges, revealing the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. The man who was an open book and a willing ear. The man whose presence gave her warmth and an abundance of belonging. The man who could capture the unlikely beauties of the world with precision. He’d seemed too good to be true—soft spoken and careful—a far cry from the guys she dated in the past.  

“Perhaps you’ve never known me at all,” he zoned out, staring off into the distance. How had things gone so wrong and so fast? But her initial glint of hope faded away as he steeled himself, the wall building back up.  

“Stefano…” 

His lips suddenly pressed against hers in a rough kiss. Her vision grew misty at the sensation, like two star-crossed lovers finally overcame the oceans separating them only to realize there was nothing. No sparks, no reasons to continue loving. Despite it, she tried to match his urgency, expecting with each brush of their tongues that everything would work itself out like before. Her fingers twitched out of habit, wanting to card through his hair and see that blissful smile that never failed to light a torch in her heart. 

But Aperture refused to give. More tentacles trickled down to meet her, the moist appendages slithering beneath her clothes and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. They were reduced to scraps littering the floor.  

A hammock like structure formed under her, hips rising involuntarily to meet his. She begged him to stop the madness and accept that there was nothing left between them. Not to mention it wasn’t fair. But she was met with deaf ears as he unzipped his slacks and pushed them down just enough to release his hard cock. 

All she could do was watch him line himself up with her entrance, plunging achingly slow into her depths. She exhaled a shaky breath when he settled against the sensitive patch of tissue lining her walls. He tossed his head back and she hated that he still had an effect on her body. Each thrust grew easier to make, a thin layer of her essence coating his skin and glistening in Aperture’s light. 

He pushed her thighs closer to her chest and the tendrils readjusted to hold her open. She jolted as he went impossibly deeper. A twinge emerged but he didn’t stop, instead picking up the pace. 

“Good girl, take all of me,” he groaned. 

Her earlier resistance was flung out the window as a series of moans slipped through her lips and refused to stop. They grew in volume the harder he pounded into her, too far gone for embarrassment to set in at their lewdness. For a moment, her rational side spoke above the fog of lust, telling her this was exactly what he wanted. He’d never let her go and she be trapped in an endless loop of unhappiness. Their time together was over, the situation only prolonging the inevitable. But a glance down at her body webbed with tentacles—one on a path toward her parted lips—pacified any further attempts at disobedience. She allowed its slickness to wander over her tongue and down her throat, gagging as it mirrored its master’s thrusting at a slower speed. 

Stefano fixed his eyes on the sight of her throat rising and falling, cock throbbing dangerously. The combined visuals and sensations of her tight, warm tunnels squeezing him for dear life sent him over the edge. His rhythm broke, shuddering and grasping for purchase on her waist while sheathing himself fully. He growled a curse as spurt after spurt of cum filled her to the brim. The ringing in his ears seemed never ending. After the room came back into focus, he brushed the strands of hair from his right eye. A bluish glow and a whir emitted from it.  

Her whine muffled, she could almost feel the heat of his stare as he filmed between her legs, an unbearable emptiness setting in as he pulled out. She felt the ticklish caress of his seed trickling down her labia, leaving her longing for its blanket. He collected some on his fingertips, forcing it back in with a loud squelching sound. 

The tendril left her mouth, the saliva coated digit coming to stroke her clit in small, firm circles. The noises she made grew more pitiful and desperate, legs trembling in a fight to snap closed. 

“Right there, darling?” 

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.  

It didn’t take long before her orgasm rocked her body, her back arching as much as the tentacles would allow. He caressed her thigh through it with a tenderness miles away from his earlier roughness.  

“I’m going to ruin you,” he rose to his feet and called out to the eye. It turned her around, her back facing him. She hung her head, a testament to the building shame breaching the surface, watching their cum flow out of her in a steady stream. His knees locked, the head of his cock parting her folds. She jolted as he thrusted against her still sensitive clit. “No other man will ever be able to satisfy you like I can.” 

As he seated himself inside her again, she couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine having nothing to do with the current situation. She had an inkling that his words would hold true. 

[sugatrapp]

「 W a f f l e s 」

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Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You wanted to take a picture with Carmy, but he didn’t take it seriously. You threatened to post the failed pictures on Instagram, but then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual Themes ~ Spanking ~ Food Play ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader ~ just an overall playful and goofy mood with a little spice

A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I figured why should I be the only one to enjoy today? Well, you’ll probably enjoy it more than me since I have classes 🙃 but still hope you like the story!

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Being around Carmen felt as natural as breathing. From the moment you met, you knew right away there was no one else you’d rather give your heart to. He made you laugh even when he wasn’t trying, he remembered the most minuscule details about you and what you liked, and he was always there when you needed him. You could never bother me. ‘M only a call or text away, he’d remind you for the fortieth time after you admitted to not wanting to add to his stress from work. No one could ever dream of asking for a better boyfriend.

Except whenever you tried to take pictures with him.

It had been ten minutes since you asked him to take a picture with you for your socials. Saving memories was your second favorite part of making them, so it was inevitable that you’d ask him. But he was in an especially playful mood that day. The smile he flashed at the camera was overly wide and a bit creepy if you looked long enough. With a pout, you shoved him away while he laughed.

“You’re such a jag off.”

He held a hand over his mouth to calm himself down to no avail. “Hey, I smiled didn’t I?”

“Like a serial killer.”

He shrugged and kissed your forehead as an apology. As you scrolled through the handful of failed images, a lightbulb flicked on over your head.

“I don’t even care, I’m still gonna post them.”

“No you’re not.”

When he saw the blank expression on your face, he reached for the phone only for you to hold it out of his grasp. You both made eye contact. A glint he knew all too well flashed behind your eyes. A glint that meant you were going to be a bratty pain in the ass. He reacted a second too slow as your form dodged his arms and took off running up the stairs. He rushed after you, but you had already shut and locked yourself in the bedroom. He banged on the door.

“Babe open the door! You better not post those.”

“Or what Carmen?” You asked, putting emphasis on his name.

“I’ll sue.”

You chuckled. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in court then.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his curls while pacing. What to do, what to do? After a moment, an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. He made sure to get nice and close to the area of the door where he knew you were standing.

“I’ll spank you.”

There was dead silence for a while before you spoke in a breathless whisper.

“Promise?”

He hummed in agreement. “Just give me your phone and you can have what’s behind door number one.”

“What’s the catch?”

You knew him too well.

“You take however many I feel you deserve—“ you made a sound of protest, “but I’ll sweeten the deal with some waffles.”

You thought over his proposal, but the throbbing between your legs had already decided. The lock clicked and the door swung open. You huffed as you handed over your phone. He deleted all but one of the photos, using it to set your wallpaper to his creepy smile before pocketing the phone. You’d see his surprise later.

You were bouncing your leg the entire time he was preparing the waffles. Carmy was awfully heavy handed when it came to punishments. Just a few weeks ago when he caught your hand between your legs without permission, you thought he was in a good mood helping you find your release. But then he kept going and going until you were too sore and sensitive to handle him even breathing on your skin.

A shiver ran up your spine as the steaming stack of waffles was placed on the island in front of you. While you were zoned out, he had dressed them up with whipped cream and berries, topping it off with buttermilk syrup. You were definitely not going to be able to sit down properly for a while.

“You wanna eat ‘em now or take ‘em with you?”

“With me,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t go easy on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You frowned as he chuckled, giving you one last nicety of a kiss at your temple before he got down to business.

“Bedroom in three. Don’t be late.”

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

He was sitting at the edge of the bed when you entered. Beside him was a can of whipped cream. He patted his leg with a smirk on his face.

You took a deep breath before walking over, carefully lying across his lap with your waffles. You had sliced them into smaller pieces downstairs to make it easier. He wasted no time, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them off. You flinched as he gave you a light playful swat, laughing.

“I haven’t done anything yet, baby, relax.”

Easy for him to say. You knew he was lulling you into a false sense of security as he caressed your bare bottom, but you couldn’t help but melt, taking a bite of the waffles. It was heavenly, all fluffy and sweet, bright flavors exploding in your—

Smack!

You yelped as his hand came down hard on your right cheek.

“Count,” he demanded.

“O-One chef.”

“Good.”

Another on the right. Two chef. Three chef. Four. It wasn’t until eight when he switched to the left. It was because the right cheek was slightly smaller than the other. You were insecure about it at first, but he made sure to give it equal attention in any other case. But in this case, it didn’t help.

Tears streamed down your face at eleven, shoving more waffle in your mouth to mask your noises. His hand left your hot skin for a moment and you braced for another hit only to be met with a cold spray of whipped cream. He smeared the cream over your sore bottom, bending over to lick it off.

You mewled, forcing yourself to remain still as he tongued you down, open mouth kisses getting awful close to your desperate core. Of course he pretended not to notice, avoiding it like the plague yet gripping your inner thigh mere inches away.

“Carmy,” you moaned.

His hum vibrated over your skin.

“Please…”

Smack! You had fallen for it again.

“Was trying t’ give you a break but if you insist.”

You gritted your teeth, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Another five hits later and the whipped cream was back. You sighed and pushed back into his roaming hand.

“Taste so good baby,” he moaned.

You stabbed another piece of waffle with your fork, twisting a bit to offer it to him. He closed his mouth around it, expression blissful as he took in the flavors. He plucked a strawberry from the plate, dipping it into the whipped cream still on your ass. You squirmed in place, beyond turned on and uncomfortable at being in the same position for so long.

Smack!

“You gonna be good or am I gonna have to add another one?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be good for you.” Then you sweetened the deal with wide, albeit watery, puppy eyes.

He took another fruit from the plate and popped it in his mouth. “Still got two more.”

You whined, on the verge of kicking your legs in protest until another smack halted you in your tracks.

“Three more.”

You bit your tongue and nodded. Eventually twenty-two rolled around and you sighed in relief. Your waffles were all gone, a few pieces of fruit left behind. You hissed as he ran his hands over your sore cheeks, no doubt bruised.

“Did so well for me baby. I think you deserve a little treat.”

Your eyes lit up. “You mean the waffles weren’t it?”

“I mean, if you don’t want it—“

“No!” You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking the side of his face. “I want it.”

He stood up, hands falling to the button of his jeans. You watched with hungry eyes as his pants and boxers fell to his ankles, revealing his engorged cock. The tip was an angry red, a bead of precum just begging to be licked off. As if it wasn’t enough, he sprayed a strip of whipped cream down the length.

“Think you can handle it?” He teased, slowly stroking himself and smearing the cream.

“Oh I know I can Berzatto.”

“Then c’mere and show me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

[sugatrapp]

「 S l e e p 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: What he thought was a nightmare turned out to be something else entirely.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual themes ~ Somnophilia (sexual arousal towards a sleeping/unconscious person) ~ Masturbation ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

It irked him to no end to admit, but he worried for you.

Your living arrangements weren’t orthodox to say the least. Two professors who were mere strangers months ago living together was something he never would’ve imagined. Seeking out answers from Dumbledore when first finding said stranger unpacking and rearranging his things only infuriated him more. The old git had that glint in his eyes that never failed to make him question why he hadn’t found employment elsewhere. He was always thinking—plotting—up ways to make his job more difficult.

If he was forced to play one of the old man’s games, then it would be on his terms.

Whatever you chose to do with the spare bedroom was your business decorations wise. Any other areas were off limits. You didn’t touch his things and he wouldn’t bother yours. He liked peace and quiet when he got back from teaching so no unreasonable noises.

You were disappointed at the stifling strictness but agreed to his rules. It didn’t stop you from trying to be at least cordial with him. You made him breakfast in the mornings, greeted him when he got back from work, and even did some of his chores such as washing dishes if he was particularly busy with grading.

His external demeanor didn’t change, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the gestures. He reciprocated little by little—buying the snacks he noticed you bought frequently, picking up items you needed from the store, even grading your papers when he’d finished with his own. He wouldn’t say he was thrilled at the lack of privacy, but he came to tolerate your presence.

However this lack of privacy would become apparent when at an odd hour of the night, he heard you mumbling and groaning in your sleep. This had been happening for the past week. Each time, it sounded like you were having a nightmare, something all too familiar that kept him awake most nights. That feeling of waking up in a cold sweat with only yourself to reorient your tormented thoughts was a sharp one to swallow. Even if he felt for you in this regard, the mere thought of invading your space didn’t sit well with him.

He was set on ignoring you to attempt to find his own sleep, but a particularly woeful groan halted him in his tracks. Surely you wouldn’t mind him waking you from such an awful occurrence. After all, YOU had disturbed him first.

Ever so slowly he twisted the handle and eased the door open, peeking inside. His eyes widened and he placed a hand over his mouth to contain his gasp. You were lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, asleep. While that was nothing to write home about, the fact that a pillow was nestled between your thighs being actively gyrated on was something else entirely.

The feeling of intruding intensified, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. You were mumbling something. He didn’t know what made him inch further into the room—morbid curiosity, the fabric of his pants straining, or even a little perversion—but he heard your next word loud and clear.

“Sevy…”

When you first gave him that nickname, he didn’t know how to react. He barely responded to it. But now, hearing you utter it in your sleep while acting out what was no doubt a dirty fantasy, it became all the more confusing and arousing. Him? Of all the people you could have, you fancied him?

“Sevyyyy…”

Before he could fully register what was happening, his hand descended beneath the waistband of his pants and briefs, wrapping around his now fully erect length. He fought the groans crawling up his throat as he began to stroke himself to the pace of your hips.

You ground harder into the pillow, whimpering his name and pleading for him to go faster. He did, closing his eyes and leaning against the doorframe. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him, letting him know just how many boundaries he was crossing, how much of a creep he was being but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not while he was imagining that it was your hand instead of his fisting his angry red cock. An all too familiar feeling brewed inside him, ramping up the faster his hand stroked, the more he thought about you in between his legs, on top of him.

He groaned beneath a closed fist as he came over his trembling hand. There was no time to react as you jolted awake with a loud moan, thighs clamped against the pillow. You sat up rubbing your eyes, mumbling something along the lines of ‘not again’ before you went to get out of bed only to be halted in your tracks at his statuesque form at your door. A long moment of tense, embarrassed silence fell over you both.

Finally, you found the words.

“So…you heard…”

He nodded.

“And you’re seeing…”

You nodded.

Another awkward moment.

“W-Well I think there’s only one thing we can do.”

His brows reached for his hairline as you stripped off your top and ruined bottoms, naked before him.

“I have to see if you’re as good as in my dreams.”

Once his composure was regained, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he began to unbutton his shirt beneath your watchful eye.

“Spread your legs.”

[sugatrapp]

Hey whoever is reading this 👋. Thanks for your support, votes, and reblogs💜💜. It means the world to me even though I usually just post my writings and take off lol. Classes have been a NIGHTMARE lately and I’m so mad cause I was planning on doing Kinktober. Alas, I can only grace you with a few disjointed one shots spread over the month and probably the next. Please be patient with me and hopefully I’ll make it worth your while.

In the meantime, enjoy this little snippet of an upcoming piece.

Ever so slowly he twisted the handle and eased the door open, peeking inside. His eyes widened and he placed a hand over his mouth to contain his gasp. You were lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, asleep. While that was nothing to write home about, the fact that a pillow was nestled between your thighs being actively gyrated on was something else entirely.

The feeling of intruding intensified, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. You were mumbling something. He didn’t know what made him inch further into the room—morbid curiosity, the fabric of his pants straining, or even a little perversion—but he heard your next words loud and clear.

“Sevy…”

[sugatrapp]

「 O p e n 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Lucius Malfoy x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: The reader and Lucius get intimate in his office.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual themes ~ Dominant Lucius ~ Master/Pet usage ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

You cast a silencing charm over the room in an embarrassing uneven tone, lying on the desk once more. Your wand slips through your fingers and clatters to the floor, yet you can’t muster enough energy to care. All you could ever need is right here, nestled between your thighs.

The familiar view of the ornate ceiling greets you. You’ve fed it many of your most lewd, earth-shattering moans but this time is different. His prodding tongue—while skillful—isn’t enough. You want to watch him as he takes what he wants.

Before, you would have thought twice about indulging in your ardent desire. To imagine what you must look like in his eyes—desperate and eager to bend in a way unlike anyone has asked of you before—is strange. It's wild and spontaneous, words you consider yourself the opposite of.

Anxiety boils in your belly, though you're hell-bent on immersing yourself in the moment. Steeling, you rise on your elbows and look down. You almost come apart at the seams.

It’s filthier than you imagined. His hair is tossed carelessly over one shoulder as he licks and sucks at your sensitive skin. Your thighs tremble and glisten with his saliva. His fingernails leave behind crescent marks to keep you still. His other hand isn’t visible from under the edge of the desk, but a rhythmic wet sound paints a clear image.

“J-Just like that, don’t stop,” you whimper, reaching out to wind your fingers in the platinum strands.

He breathes out a shaky moan as you tug, his grey orbs rising to meet your eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle as you try to push your hips harder against his face to no avail. Smug bastard. Slick with his precum, his fingers caress with the right amount of pressure to leave you breathless. Every muscle in your body tenses and the sight of him grows to be too much.

Then he stops.

You nearly give yourself whiplash at how fast you look down. He rises to swallow your protests, pressing his lips to yours and you have no choice but to play along. Your combined taste mingles as his tongue swirls around your mouth, the bitter tang an aphrodisiac. He doesn’t stop your hands from roaming. They caress his warm skin, tug him closer. You rake your nails down his back and leave behind angry red lines. After many attempts he pulls away, steeling himself with a firm hand pinning down your neck. You’re reduced to a pile of putty.

“Do you want me pet? Do you want master’s cock deep inside of you?”

The hoarseness of his voice and the dirty words send tremors straight to your core. You nod without hesitation, squirming.

He squeezes your neck. “Say it.”

Your face warms at his intense gaze yet you bite your lip and continue to meet his eyes.

“I want you i-inside me,” you inhale sharply as the tip presses against your entrance. “Want you to fill me up and fuck me until I can’t walk.”

You groan in unison as he sheaths himself achingly slow inside, your warmth welcoming him with a clenching embrace.

“Hm, such a naughty pet. I have half a mind to stuff that filthy mouth of yours as well.”

The thought sends delicious shivers down your spine. He fucks you at a tortuous pace with slow, deep thrusts. Each time you try to urge him deeper to hit that spot that makes you see stars he pulls away with a tsk.

“Lucius…” you whine.

His hand is over your mouth in seconds, silencing any further objection. You hope your glare expresses how frustrated you are. But he only smirks.

Two can play that game.

You wedge your fingers underneath his, coaxing two into your mouth. You flick the tips, swirling your tongue around the digits before hollowing your cheeks. His jaw clenches, a shudder running through him. A dark look flashes across his eyes and you know you’ve won.

A muffled shriek leaps up your throat as he pounds into you with reckless abandon. The desk creaks in protest. Skin slapping against skin reverberates through the room. You whimper and sob around his fingers until he removes them with a resounding pop, reaching down to stroke your tender flesh the way he knows you like. Your back arches and your toes curl, breathing hitched as your end rapidly approaches.

You don’t even realize your eyes slip closed until he’s growling at you.

“Look at me.”

You obey without question. You can almost make out your reflection—a needy, pleading mess dripping with sweat, fragile from hours of foreplay.

“Now, you’re going to be a good little pet and come all over my cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes please!”

Pure ecstasy. His swelling length triggers a tsunami to crash over you. You shout to the high heavens while he curses, prolonging your orgasms with shallow thrusts before coming to a gradual stop.

Your gaze returns to the ceiling as he pulls out, beginning to redress. Your limbs are heavy, fucked out, feeling his seed trickling out of you.

It’s not long before his arrogant demeanor is back, clothes and hair smoothed out, looking down his nose at you.

“I assume you know where the front door is?”

Rolling your eyes, you slide off the desk ignoring your wobbly legs. You throw on your scattered clothes and snatch your wand from the floor. Though you can’t find your underwear.

You move to push past him to regain some semblance of dignity, but a hand on your forearm halts you in your tracks.

“Next week?” You take the leap.

His grip tightens.

“Tomorrow.”

You gulp and nod, leaving with a barely concealed smile.

[sugatrapp]

「 A Night Out With Bryce 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Bryce Tankthrust x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: The reader gets invited to dinner with Bryce.

Warnings: Non-specified gender of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

• When you agreed to a “simple, friendly dinner on the company’s dime” with Bryce, you knew that it would be the exact opposite. For one, she sent a limo to pick you up—not to drop you off at the restaurant or even have her already waiting in the limo. No, it took you straight to Bryce’s shoreside mansion.

• Her sheer beauty made up for it, however. Walking out of the glass doors was your boss clad in a skintight, spaghetti strap dress—blood red. Her auburn hair was pinned up with the right amount of messiness and she was adorned with diamond jewelry.

• You looked down at your best clothes with a critical eye, making sure there were no loose threads or wrinkles.

• “Bryce, you look ravishing as always,” you commented when she entered, trying to maintain your composure as the intoxicating scent of her perfume filled the air.

• “Don’t I?” She smirked, crossing one leg over the other. “I suppose you clean up nicely, as well.”

• She booked a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. You tried not to make eye contact with the other patrons, worried they would see right through to your lackluster bank account if they hadn’t already. The neatly arranged variety of silverware that cost more per piece than you were paid in a month sent further doubts in your mind.

• What the hell did Bryce see in you? She could have anyone at the drop of a dime, could have anyone with the most luxurious cars and homes, give her the universe if she asked for it. But you, you were only an executive assistant. You lived modestly in a home that your grandparents lived in before you were born. Your car was their hand-me-down from almost ten years ago. The outfit you wore hadn’t been worn since you got it to wear for your grandparents’ funerals.

• You were just…you.

• Naturally, you tried your best not make your discomfort known, instead taking notice of which fork was meant for what as to not look like a complete idiot.

• Everything was going well. Bryce wasn’t as bad as she seemed in the office. She was more real, gentler. You had more in common than you thought possible. Then, the soup was served.

• You and Bryce were so engrossed in conversation about your favorite artists that you hadn’t noticed the bowls of soup being placed on the table. She had moved to sit beside you a while ago; her proximity was enough to handicap your senses. Suddenly, her hand that reached towards yours on the table had knocked the bowl of scorching hot soup into your lap.

• You cursed loudly, face contorting into a pained grimace. She handed you a napkin which you took to frantically wipe away the scalding liquid. You excused yourself to the bathroom, ignoring the multiple pairs of eyes staring and Bryce as she tried to form the words to apologize.

• Wiping at the spot with a wet towel did nothing to remove the stain. You doubted it would come out. Hopefully the dry cleaners could do something about it.

• When you returned to the table, Bryce was wringing her hands, mood obviously fallen.

• “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” She asked in a quiet voice, tone suggesting that she already knew the answer.

• “Of course not,” you reassured. Her head snapped up. “It was an accident. No big deal.”

• The corner of her mouth tilted up. She proposed that you two get out of there and you couldn’t have said yes fast enough. Since you hadn’t eaten much, you insisted that you stop at the local fast-food place for a combo meal. She looked disturbed that you wanted such junk, but after taking a hesitant bite from a fry you offered, she demanded that the driver go back around and order her a meal as well.

• You ended your adventure on the near abandoned top floor of a car garage. Both of you were sitting on the hood of the limo, eating your food and watching the city life below. You burped. Before you could excuse yourself, another loud burp reverberated through the night. Your eyes wide, you turned to Bryce who was cupping her mouth with a sheepish expression on her face. You burst into laughter. She didn’t know how to react at first, but eventually joined in with chuckles of her own.

• “You’re alright Tankthrust,” you said, nudging her shoulder with your own.

• Bryce hid a smile behind a sip from her cup, shuffling a little closer.

[sugatrapp]

M A S T E R L I S T

Fluff = 🌺 Spice = 🫦 Smut = 🔥 Angst = 🌧️

Stefano Valentini

Legacy 🌧️

Don’t They? 🔥

Severus Snape

Punishment 🔥

In the Dark 🌺🌧️

Here and There 🌺

Sleep 🫦

Obsidian pt. 1 🌧️

Lucius Malfoy

Punishment 🔥

Open 🔥

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto

Waffles 🫦

Tapes 🔥

Bryce Tankthrust

A Night Out With Bryce 🌺

[sugatrapp]

「 Here and There 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Severus is there for the reader who has had a bad day.

Warnings: Use of "they" pronouns ~ Non-specified gender

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

“Sevy?”

The call is a feather floating in the wind compared to the roaring crackles of the fireplace in his room. Yet his heavy lids rise and his eyes seek them out in the dimness. Their body is halfway around the ajar door, shifting from leg to leg as if contemplating whether or not to disturb him further. He hums in acknowledgment, turning on his side to face them.

For a moment, their mouth parts and closes. They didn’t even consider how they would go about explaining everything. About how crappy their day was, about how they weren’t safe even in their dreams, about how much they missed him. After being awake for almost the entire day, they acted on autopilot, leaving the spare room to stumble blindly down the hall to his.

“Can I…stay with you? Just for a while?” Is what they settle on.

They expect him to reject them flat out, snarling at them for interrupting the scarce sleep that he managed to find. Instead, their eyes widen as he moves over to make space for them.

The door clicks shut behind them. They still shuffle their feet towards the bed, coming to a stop at the edge. He throws their hesitation out the window when he grabs their hand and tugs. They yelp. He presses them against his chest, simultaneously tucking the thick comforter around them.

The strong pulsing of his heart is music to their ears. His thumb caresses their cheek, pausing when he feels liquid on them. He pulls away to search their face. Their eyes are puffy and bloodshot, evident even in the low light. They avoid his wandering gaze by hiding their face in his nightshirt. He tightens his hold on them, sighing.

“Oh love.”

He won’t push for answers, at least not right now. For now, as his eyes slip closed once more, they both revel in each other’s presence, slipping away into unconsciousness before the clock chimes a new hour.

[sugatrapp]

「 In the Dark 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: (Platonic) Severus Snape x Female Reader

Summary: “A recently graduated Hogwarts student from Slytherin (and this is in Harry Potter's 5th or 6th year) has Dumbledore ask her to join the Order of Phoenix (because she's a legilimens and occlumens) and she says yes. Dumbledore has her go undercover as a Deatheater. She was one of Snape's fav students, really gifted in Potions. Snape comforts her and everything when she gets the dark mark and helps her with the stress of being a double agent”

Warnings: Unnamed female reader ~ Description of violence

A/N: This request was brought to you by @cant-take-my-eyes-off-u . Thank you so much for your patience! Procrastination is obviously my strong suit😭

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

The day that marked the completion of her studies felt like a chapter finally ending. There were no more long nights of studying, no more anxiety inducing exams, and no more worrying about oversleeping because of said exams. She was finally an adult free to expand her horizons and pursue a career.

That’s where her problems started.

Saying farewell to Hogwarts—to the friends she made along the way—was bittersweet. They vowed to keep in touch with each other, but their paths paved in different directions. Many left their magical pasts behind with stars in their eyes, eager for a fresh, normal start. Others decided to stay in the wizarding world to expand their knowledge and create names for themselves. Stranded in the middle of a vast ocean was her, watching everything she ever knew drifting further from sight.

A week went by. Each day that passed made it more difficult for her to sit still as she waited for something to happen and give her answers. She hoped for a solution to fall into her lap as she packed up her dorm room, preparing for her journey back to her parents’ home in America. On the day of her departure, she received a knock on her door from headmaster Dumbledore himself. Her purpose: to join the Order of the Phoenix. Her alibi: become Severus Snape’s potions assistant.

The operation seemed easy enough as potions was a familiar headache. Her task: to infiltrate the snake’s den and become a double agent. Her heart fell.

Dumbledore’s expression morphed into a pained, deadly seriousness. “I wish that there was another alternative, but dire situations call for dire means."

Those words were the anchors that fueled her will.

Crack, crack, crunch.

The sound of her bones breaking caused wave after wave of nausea to crawl up her throat. She shivered and trembled. Sweat clung to her scorching skin. Her screams did nothing to halt the torture that resembled drawing and quartering. Even as darkness tugged at her consciousness, she continued pushing false memories to the forefront of her mind.

She clenched her eyes shut. Her senses made the situation more real. His frigid hand gripped her left forearm. The piercing stares of the silent witnesses dug into her bare skin. The stony floor caressing her balled-up form was her only comfort. It’s almost over, she thought behind the wall even though it had been over an hour. Her brain was pounding against her skull. His mental bombardment was relentless and unforgiving.

Around the two-hour mark, the pain in her body subsided. She gasped for air in relief. The dull, wandering sting on her forearm and feet shuffling away from her let know that it was over.

She was now a Death Eater.

She didn’t unravel from her ball when the Dark Lord addressed the room. Neither did she move when several sets of footsteps crossed the room’s threshold and faded down the hall. A sudden sensation over her shoulders received a harsh flinch. When she realized that it was a cloak infused with a familiar scent, only then did she allow herself to sob.

“What,” she hiccupped, “what did I do?”

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Two weeks went by. Night fell on the castle. For the third time that week, she skipped dinner to grade papers within the confines of her chambers. But as she sat at her desk scanning over the same parchment, paranoia and phantom pain continued to eat away at her. Instead, she checked the extra charms placed on her doors and windows. She paced back and forth. She wrung her hands together to stop them from trembling, but nothing slowed her mind.

It was too much. Everything was too much.

A series of knocks on her door almost sent her to an early grave.

Is it him? She thought, gripping the handle of her wand. Has he found out and sent someone for me?

“It’s me,” a muffled, yet unmistakable drawl spoke.

She took a deep breath before undoing her security measures and swinging open the door. One look at his face was enough to bring the emotions of that night back in full force. She collapsed in his arms, staining the front of his frock coat with salty tears. He tensed, his hand hovering for a moment before placing it lightly on her back, rubbing slightly.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered while pulling away. Wiping her eyes, she stepped back to allow him inside, watching as a plate piled with food and two steaming mugs floated after him. They met the coffee table with dull clinks as the pair sat down on the sofa in front of the roaring fireplace. She thanked him after he handed her the plate and began to eat while he sipped his tea.

For a while, a pregnant silence filled the room except for the crackling from the fireplace and chinking. Eventually he spoke.

“Do you remember the first time you made a potion in my class?”

The corner of her lips twitched.

“How could I forget? My hands have never cramped that much in my life.”

The ordeal had gone atrociously. Before potions became second nature to her, it was like learning gibberish with a ticking time bomb strapped to her chest. Turns out that having someone looming over her shoulder was a disaster waiting to happen. One minute she was studying the textbook, glancing between the bubbling cauldron, and the ingredients to be sure that she was following the steps. The next minute the cauldron was overflowing and spitting black sludge over her entire workstation. Her detention of scrubbing said cauldron along with the rest was inevitable and no less stressful.

“I must admit that the cauldrons have never looked better either.”

She chuckled for the first time in a while. They sipped from their cups as the room fell into a more comfortable silence.

“Will we be okay?”

He sighed, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know. I wish I could give you a definitive answer, but I can’t.”

Hearing her doubts voiced out loud didn’t bring much comfort, but the contrary wouldn’t be much better. She did take small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t facing them alone. After finishing off their refreshments, he stood up.

“I suppose I should be going, it’s rather late.”

Ignoring the pang in her chest, she agreed and went to clear away the dishes.

“Unless” he added, almost as if he could sense her disappointment, “you'd be interested in assisting me with a sleeping draught? Of course, you don’t have—”

“Sounds like a plan,” she wasted no time slipping on her cloak, a wave of her wand tidying up their mess. “I may need a double to sleep a wink tonight.”

He humored her with a hint of a smile before leading the way to his office.

[sugatrapp]

「 P u n i s h m e n t 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Severus Snape x Reader x Lucius Malfoy

Summary: When Lucius and Snape came home from work, they caught reader in the act without permission.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual themes ~ Threesome ~ Use of "they" pronouns ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Metal clinks together in an uneven rhythm throughout the room. Nails rake against mahogany wood, no doubt leaving hideous scars behind. Ragged breathing and gasps join the unholy cacophony as fatigue claws at their consciousness. 

There, lying bare in the center of the massive bed, is them. They tug desperately at the silver chains binding their wrists and ankles to the four posters to no avail. He made sure each was skin tight, disallowing any movement that his narrowed gaze would miss. They are exposed in nearly every way possible, unable to hide even from the frigid temperature of the dim space. They shiver for what feels like the hundredth time, this time from the tsunami of pleasure crashing over their fleeting composure.

Their voice cracks as they shout to the high heavens, trembling thighs clamping around the head buried between their thighs. More frantic tugging at the chains proves fruitless. The head remains despite this, jet black hair masking the face of their torturer. 

“No-No more, I c-can’t.”

A firm hand closes around their throat. They lift their heavy eyelids, meeting the stern grey eyes of the mastermind behind it all. 

“What was that, love?” He asks, yet an ever-growing smirk is present on his handsome face.

“Luci…” they whine, jolting once more when the dark-haired man’s nose brushes against their sensitive skin.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He gestures below. 

Pitifully whimpering and moaning, “Yes, but—”

“Then you should be thankful to receive what Severus is so generously providing. Maybe then you’ll be a good pet from now on.”

They are tempted to curse him and his smugness, but are catapulted into another orgasm. Their back arches as far as the chains will allow, toes curling. Their cries are suddenly muffled by lips pressing against theirs. Salty tears stream down their cheeks as he moves his blond hair over one shoulder. They feel the easing of pressure from below, letting out a small sigh in between kisses. But this insignificant noise alerts Lucius enough to shift his attention to Severus, whose chin and swollen lips glisten from his continued stimulation.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“The poor thing’s all fucked out,” he drawls, tracing light patterns over their thigh with his fingers. They barely hold in a purr. “Perhaps they could be forgiven this once?”

Lucius hums, a pout on his lips. Silence falls over the group as they anxiously await his response. Suddenly, the smirk is back in full force. He leaves their side and strolls over to Severus. Leaning in close to the dark haired man, he murmurs though loud enough for them both to hear:

“How about I punish you as well?”

Severus’s eyes widen, his dark pupils blown. Pink dusts his cheeks and he gulps audibly.

“Would you like that, pet?” He turns towards them.

They nod frantically. “Yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.”

“Good pet.” 

Lucius pulls Severus into a heated kiss, taking off his clothing one piece at a time. Severus lets out a whimper of his own, clinging to his partner as their tongues explore. Despite being overstimulated, they bite their lip at the scene unfolding before them, their hips shifting of their own accord. The night will surely be a long one.

[sugatrapp]

「L e g a c y」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Stefano Valentini x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: It was over. You and Sebastian had finally defeated the eccentric artist, Stefano Valentini. Though it hurt to see your lover's departure, at least he would live on in your heart...

Warnings: Non-specified gender of reader

Ambience

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

"Our legacy will live on, mia amore."

His voice was a mere whisper, exhaustion evident. I couldn't hold back the tears that now cascaded down my cheeks as he handed me his camera, his most prized possession.

"Please don't do this to me," I pleaded with him, cupping his face hoping that it would be enough to keep him alive so that he wouldn't have to die—so that I wouldn't have to be alone. But his eternal sleep had inevitably come, head lying limply against the floor, the arm that encircled my waist meeting the floor with a gentle thud.

"Ste-Stefano wake up," I pet his cheeks, ran my fingers through his hair the way he always liked, and kissed the tip of his nose. There was no response. He was gone.

I'm left a sobbing mess alone in the gallery, Sebastian having stepped away after the deed was done to give us privacy. All those years we had spent apart with him off at war and entering the STEM machine weighed heavy on my aching chest. We had so little time together. I never even got the chance to tell him about our son.

I held the last remnant of him close to my heart. It was almost as if he were still there, providing me with warmth and comfort.

"My…love…" I whimpered at his words swirling within my head. A deep, dark abyss was forming and I made no attempt to prevent it. How would I explain this to Daniel when he got older? How would I ever get over him?

"Can you…hear…me?"

I was hearing his voice now, though distant, calling out to me. I'm going crazy, I thought as I stood up from my place beside his corpse, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. The tears threatened to fall more viciously if I dared to observe the extent of what we did to him. From the amount of cold blood clinging onto my skin and clothes, it gave me a general idea of what the whole scene would look like.

"The…camera…..look…..for me…"

Now this was starting to get weird. I glanced around the otherwise empty gallery, nothing more than myself and his artwork present. I took in the vintage camera I held, my fingers caressing the worn frame. What if…?

A bit hesitant, I aligned the viewfinder with my eye and gasped. The filter was black and white, the only color being the crimson veins pulsing at the edges of the lens. When I turned in the direction of the door Sebastian stood behind, the blood which flowed inside the veins pumped more swiftly, as if anxiously guiding me towards prey. When I turned away towards the left, the veins went back to normal, only the right side pulsing in sync with what I'm guessing is Seb's heartbeat. Was this really how Stefano saw the world? Was it all just a chase for his next victim/masterpiece?

As I swiveled on my heels, I'm greeted with a sight that nearly made me drop the camera. There, standing mere inches away from my face, was the man whose life had been snubbed out not ten minutes ago, that ever sinister smile that tugged at my heartstrings spread clear as day across his lips.

"I'm ready for my close up," he said and a strong urge to press the shudder button surfaced. So, I did.

That was the best and worst decision that I have ever made.