#is sensory sparks a thing?

[itsaspectrumcomic]

What are your sensory sparks? ✨

[dragonsholygrail]

In The Darkness

Shadow demon x fem!reader— sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, bondage (cuffs), groping, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, finger sucking, aftercare

Your shadow demon bf had opened your eyes and welcomed you into a whole new world of pleasure that was just waiting to you both to explore. And you have. You’ve done things you never thought you’d enjoy due to the love and trust you have in your bf. In return you’ve gained so many new experiences that you’d never want to take back.

At this point you’ve pretty much stopped asking questions whenever your shadow demon bf proposes that he wants to try something new with you. But this time you think you have to ask some questions.

Because when your shadow demon bf tells you that he wants to fuck you in complete darkness, you’re insanely confused. Sure, you two have never done that before. Always having on at least a candle so that you can see each other as your bf fucks your brains out. But this is far from the craziest thing you two have ever done and it’s left you having no clue what’s going on.

Still, you trust your bf. You follow his exact instructions and you relish in the submission of it. Of letting go of all thought and action, your bf’s voice being your only guiding light. Especially as the darkness surrounds you and it’s the only true thing you can grasp onto.

Tingles shoot up your spine. A smirk begins to play on your lips as you realize the possible appeal. A eery chuckle shifts through the darkness and you jump as a moment later two clawed hands firmly grip onto the waist of your bare form. The prickly tips of sharpened claws caress up and down the curve of your stomach, leaving sparks in their wake.

“What a vision you are in the darkness, my heart. Now do you see mine?” Your bf’s haunting yet alluring voice whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise along your skin and your smile widens, getting a sense of his intentions with this newest request.

His touch as gentle as the wind, coursing through the pathway of your body till he reaches your breasts and the caress turns firm and purposeful. Groping you and pulling you tightly into his large chest. Your grasp rings out through the dark silent space. It’s echos vibrating and increasing the tension between you.

Leaning back into the comfort of his embrace, you moan. Nothing else to turn to, to focus on, besides his touch. Bringing the sensations to a new height till you’re writhing against him before he’s even done anything to you.

“Near total sensory deprivation, the only real thing being my voice. All of your senses now completely at my mercy,” Shadow demon bf rasps darkly, finally giving you some of his reasoning behind all this.

You have to admit that the idea of it is arousing and your body agrees as your pussy floods with your essence. Always so nice and wet for him, you can’t help it. Everything he says has your nerves standing on edge and your cunt fluttering and begging to be filled.

Careful claws tease and tweak at your nipples, whimpers escaping you as you tremble in his secure hold. You cry out, rubbing your thighs together to gain any semblance of friction you can get. Yet it’s not enough, your hole so achingly empty and needing to be stuffed full. Your mind grows foggy and centers in on this one desperate thought.

“Lost in the void and who is the only thing that can ground you?” Shadow demon bf whispers into your ear again, his forked tongue slithering out and licking along the smooth curve of your ear.

The sensation is quick, tantalizing, and gone far too soon. You whimper, leaning back into him. Your body, floating as if on cloud nine, seeking out that skilled tongue of his. Knowing with every fiber in what’s left of your present being that you’ll get it. So long as you’re good for him.

“You are,” you croak out, voice weak and wanting.

A low rumbles moves through your bf’s chest in agreement, clearly pleased with your willing and eager response. The loss of his touch on your breasts, on your hard nipples, is a hit your floating mind can barely handle. A loud whine escaping you until his cool touch returns, moving along your curves. The further down he goes the less you can breathe, simply waiting.

“That’s right, my starlight,” he says as his deft fingers dip into your folds, spreading them and spearing themselves along your slit. Your breath knocks out of you, exhaling heavily as he ignites the nerves of your pussy lips. They clench and contort around him, mindlessly guiding the digits to delve inside your hole.

Shadow demon bf chuckles at the feeling, causing your cheeks to tinge with red. Thankful that even if he can feel you, he won’t be able to see you in your lewdness. Another thing the darkness around you provides. Another thing you’re looking forward to. Your bfs voice and the slow glide of his fingers snaps you out of your thoughts.

“You overwhelm me, sweet one. You are all I feel and all that grounds me to this plane. I believe it’s time I repay the favor.”

Shadow demon bf’s fingers don’t leave you as his other hand guides you to bend down at the waist. Your own arms reach out, carelessly searching through the darkness until you find it. Fingers curl around the metal cuffs suspended in front of you. The click of each lock as they enclose around your wrists has your back arching, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Look at you, so good and ready for me,” Shadow demon bf mumbles, drawing lazy circle against your clit as he kneels down on the ground behind you. You whimper and push back, though his free hand is quick to grab at your plush thigh. Keeping you in place.

His keen eyes reflect in the darkness, giving him access to view everything in front of him. Yet you remain completely clueless. Just how he wants you. Your legs spread further as his fingers slide back down your slit, giving him the sight of your beautiful dripping pussy. Your essence dribbling down your thighs and making such a mess. A mess he’s more than ready to clean up.

In an instant that tongue you’ve been waiting for is back and it’s back with a vengeance. Your body jolts, cuffs clanging and ringing in your ears, surprised by the sudden slick texture of his forked tongued sliding along your thigh and pushing through your folds. Not having expected more than his touch at the moment. The darkness riding you of knowing what’ll happen next.

Though your anticipation doesn’t have time to build as shadow demon bf glides his tongue through your folds, swirling around your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You moan, body rolling into the sensations but not knowing where exactly to move. Leaving you to squirm in search of your bf.

Shadow demon bf grins viciously and you can feel it against your cunt, knowing his enjoying this. Loving how you struggle and silently beg for more of him. His hands shift to your hips, both keeping you in place and letting you know where he’ll be.

All you get in warning is a growl before your bf begins ravaging your pussy, sloppily lapping up your cunt. His hands spread your ass cheeks, widening the entrance for his tongue to slide deep inside your weeping pussy. Pressure weighs down in your belly as your pleasure builds, rising onto your toes and giving him better access.

He grunts his thanks and repeats his rhythm with precise precision and never ending stamina. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your cunt until you explode around it. Your walls clenching around his tongue, your essence gushing onto his tastebuds. Shadow demon bf growls and unhinges his jaw, taking in every last damn drop and working you through it.

Both of you are breathing heavily as your orgasm begins to fade and your bf leans back. You still can’t see, hear, or feel anything beside the cold metal around your wrists. The only noise your breaths. Aside from that the silence stretches on and it has the hair on the back of your neck standing up straight.

“Ready for more?” Your bfs voice suddenly growls in your ear and you shout. Body jerking back and you immediately bump into his broad frame and right into his huge girth. His erection nestling against your ass.

Your eyes scatter and search the surroundings over the shoulder you hear him from but you can’t see anything. Only darkness. Before you can respond your bf crashes his lips against yours and you let out another muffled shout. But you respond without a beat of hesitation, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue back inside your body. Both of you moaning into it as your cum tickles your own tastebuds.

Shadow demon bf’s cock slowly starts grinding into you, neither of you breaking your kiss. You stay perfectly still for him, keeping yourself wide open and needy for his length. Still not getting your fill of wanting to be split in two.

With your body all prepped for him, your bf guides his dick through your folds. Whimpers leaving you as his tip bumps into your sensitive clit. Your bf nips at your tongue affectionately before you feel his big mushroom tip, leaking heavily with pre-cum, push at your entrance.

With a simply push forward, your bf breaks past your entrance, sinking down into your eager sopping cunt. Your jaw drops, a loud moan lights the room up with noise as his cock stretches your walls for all their worth. Forcing its way in and demanding you submit to its sheer girth and the pleasure it’ll bring. You relax as much as you can, practically sucking him inside of you.

Shadow demon bf growls, your walls nearly suffocating him you’re so fucking tight. When he bottoms out his tip nudges at your cervix. The pain sharp and aching but so delicious. You close your eyes, basking in it all. You feel so full and so complete with him inside you.

Your breaths mingle and mix in the space between your mouths. Eyes open you continue trying to search for your bf in the dark, even knowing it’s useless. Wanting to see how much of a mess you make him and even maybe wanting him to see just how thoroughly he destroys you.

By the way he draws you, making you feel every thick and bulging vein along his cock against your walls before roughly snapping his hips back inside you, you almost swear he can see you. That he knows how much of a mess you truly make him. But that’s impossible right?

All worries and thoughts leave you in the blink of an eye as Shadow Demon bf starts up his demolishing pace. Claws carefully sinking into you to keep you steady. A loud roar rumbles through the room and you jump in your bones, which only serves to push your body back into his intense thrusts.

Your bf grunts, clearly approving and you cry out as he starts moving your body back into his cock, having you meet the rough rolls of his hips. Your body tenses, cunt clenching down around him and having you feel even more full.

Tossing your head back, your teeth clench, pleasure crashing through you in waves you can’t even think to stop as there’s nothing else for you to ground yourself with. Your lost in the sea of pleasure, tingling sensations of arousal pulsing within your body and spreading out over and over again.

Your bf watches your body twist and contort in order to take his giant cock and everything it’s making you feel. A twisted satisfaction burns through him at how much of a beautiful mess you look. The sight has him picking up his pace, slamming his length inside you, molding your perfect pussy to his shape. Making his home here and showing you he’ll never leave.

Moans and cries of pleasure are no longer enough as you release a fierce scream. You can faintly hear your bfs low groan, his voice feeling so far away. Lost in the abyss your hands try and reach for something— anything. But the clang of the cuffs is all that rings true. Sparking an idea in your mind you try and reach forward, hoping you can ground yourself by placing the chain of the cuffs in your mouth.

But just as you reach it, Shadow demon bf pulls you back and burys his cock back inside your crying and begging cunt. Emotion wells up inside your chest and you sob, tears coming to your eyes. Your body moves back into your bfs chest and his voice comes back down to your ear.

“Sh, sh, sh, my love. It’s alright, you’re alright,” he whispers soothingly, hand coming up to stuff a few of his large fingers into your mouth. You whimper, sucking eagerly, letting the sturdy size of his digits ground you back down to earth and help calm you down.

His other hand soothingly caresses your stomach as he continues to fuck into you, his pace not slowing down for a second. Making sure to take care of all your needs at once. Small whimpers continue to leave you, feeling better as his presence surrounds you and stays in your mouth and pussy. You move back into his thrusts again, all on your own.

Tendrils of darkness creep up from the deep and curl around your body. Having been used to them they only provide further comfort to you. One long tentacle wraps up and strokes at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. With a firm press of his hand on your stomach and a few more snaps of his hips, you scream once more, this time around his fingers as your orgasm bursts through you.

Your cum paints Shadow demon bf’s cock, your walls spasming and clenching down on his length. Sparks shoot up his spine and his teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows right after you into climax, his heavy load splashing deeply against your womb and filling your pussy even more than you thought was possible. His hips still rocking into you until you both sag into each other.

Shadow demon bf slides out of you gently but you still hiss at the slight sting. As your combined release spills out of you, you shiver and clench down to keep it inside of you. Your bf lights the room with a snap of his fingers and you breathe a sigh of relief as your senses come back to you. As gently as always, he unlocks you from the cuffs. Massaging your wrists and kissing them adoringly.

He guides you to bed, whispering praises, recounting every moment of what just happened through his eyes. Letting you know how good you did, how perfect you were for him, how absolutely gorgeous you looked then and now, and asking how you feel to make sure you’re alright.

Pouring endless praise and love onto you as he cleans up the mess between your thighs before he sweeps you up into his arms the moment you two get into bed. Pressing soft kisses all of your face and sore body. It’s only as you finally relax do you register all his words.

“Could you see me in the dark?” You ask incredulously, voice slightly raspy as you connect the dots. Your bf chuckles and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading his response and forcing your own laughter down.

“‘Course I could, sweetheart. I’m a shadow demon,” he responds with amusement but your loud groan quickly overshadows his laughter. Red blooming across your chest and up your neck till it spreads all across your face. Your bf merely laughs louder, his hands caressing your back. Wanting to comfort you some before the inevitable teasing begins.

[takami-takami]

Cute things Hawks does:

Asks, "what was that for?" With a lopsided smirk every time you give him a surprise kiss, even if he knows the reason.

Doesn't even bother to look with his eyes when he catches things, given the sensory prowess of his feathers; except when you trip. In that circumstance, he uses both arms to catch you.

Picks you up and carries you at every available oppurtunity. You're light as a feather to a pro hero's strength, and he'll make sure you know it and thoroughly internalize that. As a man, as your protector, it's kind of important to flaunt that for you a little.

Collects funky looking socks. Fuzzy ones. He starts buying two pairs and gifting you a set matching his. It's a well-kept secret, until you move in together and catch a glimpse at his oddly familiar-looking sock drawer.

Absentmindedly fidgets with items, especially those that have some sort of sensory element to them. He clutches his fluffy coat to his face to self soothe, runs his fingers along the nearest soft object to keep his focus centered on work.

Hawks tries really hard to pick up on your hobbies. At first it's curiosity from one side of the windowpane; hesitancy as he watches you, an unspoken rule barring him from joining in. The moment you extend an invitation for him to join you, coaxing him, he lights up and nods. You catch him practicing on his own some nights, a spark in his eye and pride in his chest.

Never lets sleep take him without telling you he loves you first. His sleepy, gruffy voice has woken you up more times than you can count. "Babe. Love you," he slurs, clutching you close to his chest as he passes out from exhaustion the moment he hits the bed.

[alostwanderernotfound]

Why do sometimes really weird & unexplainable things kind of happen?

Looking at the Theoretical Intersection between Anatomy & Physiology & Electronics

***This is coming from the perspective of attempting to explain (in the most simple ways possible) how foreign advanced technology possibly “hacks” the foundations of organic life. ***

Our bodies are composed of nerves. When electricity goes from one nerve and travels to another nerve then an action occurs. When something in our environment is sensed (like hearing a noise) our organs are able to sense the information & produce electricity to carry that information back to the brain to be processed.

Anatomically we have the brain, the spinal cord, our sensory organs, cranial nerves, and “all the other individually named nerves” that branch off of those.

(There is further differentiation between central nervous system, peripheral nervous system, & autonomic, and other ways to differentiate in anatomy and physiology, but for simplicity this is how I will refer to it).

Cranial nerves are differentiated out on the list in comparison to “other nerves” because they are a specific list of major nerves that do very important & essential functions in the body.

So, nerves act as a path for electricity to follow. This electricity can produce voluntary action or involuntary actions.

Choosing to raise your hand we consider voluntary action produced by the nervous system. When something occurs without your conscious choice & occurs automatically, it is considered an involuntary action of the nervous system. For example, your heart beating would be an involuntary action.

Nerves have gaps between them & in this space neurotransmitters are released. Neurotransmitters are chemicals with the ability to cause another nerve to have an action. Neurotransmitters have different actions at different places in the body. After neurotransmitters are released they stay in this space until they are broken down by the body. The body breaks down the neurotransmitters and attempts to recycle the components to be used to make other things in the body.

Our bodies are able to use electricity because of many processes, but one major one is because we store electrolytes. Our organs and tissues use electrolytes like Sodium and Potassium to create electrical charge. This “electrical spark” causes electricity to generate so that it can be conducted through the nerves.

The human body is very complex & requires more than just electricity to function due to many components of its design, but each neuron as an individual unit is incredibly similar functionally to wires bundled into computer cables.

How does this process intersect with technology?

If someone were to attempt to hurt you with insidiously with technology it could create A LOT of very weird experiences.

If you know how to electrically stimulate parts of the body, like if you put an electrical stimulator/microchip/or another component that alters electricity in someone’s nervous system you could do a lot of weird things that people with no medical background would struggle to explain.

Machinery causing electrical impulses or “shocks” to be sent to certain part of the brain can produce many effects.

If someone sent electrical impulses down the cranial nerves it would produce a wide range of effects.

If certain cranial nerves were stimulated by someone controlling a technological component then someone could cause your body to involuntarily do the following by stimulating one of the 12 cranial nerves with electricity:

Involuntarily, as if your body moved on its own, you could feel the following:

> Your eyes to move in a certain direction, like your eyes are “locking on” to an object. Similar to how a computer program is able to “lock on” to a target

> Cause your vocal cords to move even when your mouth isn’t open

>Jaw movement & other motions of the face

>cause vertigo/dizziness/altered proprioception or your sense of orientation in space. So a lot of the symptoms of being inebriated

>control of your tongue muscles

> ***Vagus nerve or cranial nerve 10 does a lot, tampering with it could do a lot of weird things *** Possibly weird respiratory and/or internal organ symptoms like shortness of breath, changes in swallowing like dysphagia, vocal hoarseness, & many other possible and serious side effects

> Specific neck movements & turns of the head

You could also produce the sensations in someone of:

>hearing voices that aren’t there or altered processing, they talk but it’s like you can’t understand

>hearing sounds that aren’t there or altered hearing

>seeing images that aren’t there or altered sight

>smelling things that aren’t there or altered smell

>feeling things that aren’t there or altered feeling

>tasting things that aren’t there or altered taste

All of these actions and the degree to which you could “control it” would vary. Some of these are more technically complex to do, but at the most basic level “micromovements” from even just these few nerves are highly likely.

Our bodies have more than just electricity that contribute to our ability to do voluntary control as a defensive system to prevent these types of tampering events from occurring, but I think on a basic level it would still be possible to do some of these micromovements.

Without a lot of technological advancement required, the most worrying to me is a combination of seizures (which can occur when you just overload something with electricity) and/or lots of trauma producing something similar to disassociation & making people hear voices. It unfortunately often produces a mind control like feeling where other people attempt to control and/or influence your behavior.

I think in the quest for mind control, some very bad people use these types of things to hurt other people & technological advancements in subliminal messaging have greatly hurt the world through our time.

In order to fix things I think we must first understand them.

[redcoralpot]

U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader

Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.

Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1.55K

Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!

-

Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?

So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”

Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 

His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”

“Yeah, this is him.”

The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”

“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.

Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 

Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.

He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.

By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.

“Mike Schmidt?”

He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”

“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”

“You mentioned that.”

The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”

“Do you have any actual experience with it?”

“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”

“Why did you stop?”

“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.

“A pizzeria?”

You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”

Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”

He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.

-

Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.

Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.

Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.

“F-fuck.” He whispered. 

His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 

He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?

Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.

Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”

He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.

That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 

The stain was going to be hard to explain.

-

[blissfullybubblez]

🌈💫 Bringing Age Regression into Everyday Life: Tips and Tricks! 💫🌈

🍼💕 Let's sprinkle a little magic and innocence into our daily routines! Here are some tips for seamlessly incorporating age regression into your everyday life. 💕🍼

🌟🌈 Create a cozy little space: Set up a corner with soft pillows, fairy lights, and your favorite comfort objects. It's your personal retreat to embrace your little side whenever you need it! 🌈🌟

🎨🖍️ Unleash your inner artist: Keep a coloring book or sketchpad handy. Take mini breaks to let your creativity flow and allow your imagination to soar! 🖍️🎨

📚🌸 Storytime adventures: Dive into a world of enchantment by reading children's books or exploring imaginative stories. It's a beautiful way to connect with your little self and spark joy! 🌸📚

🎵🎶 Musical moments: Create a playlist of nostalgic songs or lullabies that make you feel little. Sing along, dance around, and let the music fill your heart with joy! 🎶🎵

🍼🌼 Embrace sensory delights: Surround yourself with things that engage your senses—soft blankets, scented candles, stress balls, or fidget toys. Let them soothe and comfort you in your regression space. 🌼🍼

💫🏞️ Outdoor adventures: Explore nature with childlike wonder. Take walks in parks, enjoy playground swings, or have a picnic on a sunny day. Let the world be your playground! 🏞️💫

🎉🎈 Celebrate little milestones: Reward yourself for accomplishing tasks or goals by indulging in little treats or activities that make you feel happy and carefree. Every achievement deserves a celebration! 🎈🎉

🍽️🥪 Little mealtime delights: Don't forget to indulge in your favorite childhood snacks or meals. Mac and cheese, PB&J sandwiches, or even a bowl of cereal can bring back those nostalgic flavors and memories. 🥪🍽️

💌💕 Connect with the community: Engage with other age regressors on Tumblr or social media platforms. Share your experiences, seek advice, and bask in the warmth of a supportive community that understands your journey. 💕💌

🌈✨ Remember, incorporating age regression into daily life is a personal and unique experience. Find what works best for you, follow your heart, and allow your inner child to guide you on this wonderful regression adventure! ✨🌈

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬:

♥︎: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♡: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♦︎: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

♣︎: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

♠︎: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

↳ 📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

[Headcannons]

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

[Dabbles]

‘Look at you…’ ♠︎

Tirelessly ♣︎

Semi-Masochist ♠︎

For his eyes only ♠︎

Sensory deprivation ♠︎

Big Brain ♥︎♠︎

Stress♥︎♣︎

Untitled.doc ♠︎

Fleeting Reflections ♣︎

[One shots]

Eres mía ♥︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re not the only one experiencing cravings during your pregnancy

‘Tis the Season ♡♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s the holiday season and for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to rile Miguel up more than you usually do. That was until you were taken back to his lab and he gained the upper hand over you.

Meet Cute ♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You didn’t expect the mysterious man that you met at a wedding to change your whole trajectory of the night

Static in the Air ♠︎♣︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Moved by Devotion and Prestige ♦︎♣︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: During a company dinner party, you find yourself humiliated by your current boyfriend. Seeking some escape, you confide with your boss, Miguel, whose support reveals some hidden emotions you’ve buried.

You Say You Can Fix Him, But He’s Stuck in Fifth Gear ♡♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel’s idea of a good time: a high-speed joyride. Yours? Riding him until the sun rises

Last Boarding Call ♣︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

[Multiple-chapter stories]

Scientist Husband Masterlist ♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Marrying a scientist superhero has its unique perks

In his Crimson-Filled eyes [Part 2] [Part 3] ♣︎♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After waking up from a year-long coma, you find yourself in the hospital with the tender embrace of your husband sitting beside you. You have no memory of your marriage nor the life you shared together. As you try to navigate the scattered memories, Miguel becomes your guiding light through your journey of transcending memories.

Rekindling an Old Love [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ♣︎♠︎♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In your complex web of your shared history, you and Miguel, your ex-husband and co-worker, struggle to communicate without clashing your professional and personal lives. However, an unexpected moment sparks a longing between the two of you. Despite the tension, a shared moment reveals unspoken desires and deep secrets.

Envy from the next room [Part 2] [Part 3] ♡♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel has mixed feelings towards your new boyfriend. That was until you came back with very exciting devastating news

I’m loving you from a distance but the road is getting longer [Part 2] ♣︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s been over a year since you split up, but unfortunately for Miguel, things are still taking a toll. Even after going your separate ways, you still have to see each other everyday and it was affecting his performance. Meanwhile, your dual life as a loyal lover and as Spider-Woman is putting a lingering strain on your new relationship. The ripple effect of your breakup is coming back to bite you in the ass in the most unexpected way possible.

[mxshifter]

🌿 shifting motivation

"a change of circumstance happens as a result of a change in your state of consciousness"

this post isn't just for a group of people who feel they need motivation but to reaffirm the idea that shifting is as simple or as hard as you make it! (sorry for any typos, i wrote this late at night)

an important thing to mention is the fact that i have a claddagh ring and they have a specific meaning when flipped one way or the other. i'm in a relationship so i have my claddagh upright, remember that!

yesterday i went to sleep without intending to shift but just filled with so much happiness from the really good day i had along with the extreme exhaustion i was feeling from being outside all day. i had a different mindset from the past few months. i felt happy and like i could genuinely do anything! something that was also different was my mind was completely silent which was much appreciated as thoughts flooding through my mind when i was just intending to sleep, had always been a problem. the entire day i had been surrounded with so much life as it had spread to me and my mind.

i went to sleep and woke up, went to go shower, and then i saw my hand. my claddagh ring was reversed. now, i am someone who constantly fidgets with my bracelets and rings, pushing them down and spinning them for sensory stimulation but i HAVE NEVER flipped my claddagh the opposite way solely because i know the meaning behind it. plus the fact that i went to bed with my claddagh upright so it doesn't make any sense that i could've taken off my ring, flipped it in the opposite direction, and then put it back on my finger IN MY SLEEP. based on all of this, i assumed that i shifted to a parallel CR!

also, shifting to parallel CRs and DRs on accident or without intention has ALWAYS been a thing in my journey, from the beginning to now. when i first learned about shifting, i had accidentally shifted as early as 2 weeks after learning about shifting. keep in mind, this was also before i had started to HEAVILYYY consume shifttok content. this is NOT to say consuming that content "makes you unable to shift" but it is to say that, at least for me, it really harmed my mindset because i was just filled with so many other ideas that really killed my spark for a long time.

after i had told my shifter friends about my experience, i was scrolling on tiktok and saw a tarot reading talking about the multitude of ways i have at my disposal to be able to shift, to be open and lean into them, to not limit myself in my mindset/be hard on myself and my abilities, the recognition of how much work i've put in, advising the release of emotional frustration surrounding my journey because it is hindering my progress, that the period of "will i, won't i shift? has come to an end and that the foundation for success is being laid, finally being able to take the reigns of my journey, and to overall not limit myself and taking charge of my journey. this reading really resonated with me especially considering when i saw it i was starting to fall into the same trap i had always fallen into; doubting myself and my experiences.

ALL of this is to say that you can shift no matter what. you can shift if you're laying on your stomach, back, in the starfish pose, upside down, sitting crisscross applesauce, through meditation, through intention, through listening to music, through dreams, LITERALLY ANYTHING!!! if you're doubting yourself or just feel discouraged, just know that you are limitless. you are powerful. you can and will shift!

(leaf divider)

[heartofbusan]

Finally.

As we hit the halfway point of AYS, I've been wondering about the overall story arc. What part of the story is the one that floats over the entire narrative? To me, it is also the story that is the most sensory one, the one thing about AYS that touches me and sets my mind off of these tangents.

I'll give you a clue:

It's them. Their interactions.

The way jikook as a pair kicked off this journey was a contentious one. We all remember the first episode and the talk they had. There are many reasons, from the editing to the self censoring jikook do in front of the camera that have led to #TheCarScene making the audience feel either uncomfortable or made them sit at the edge of their seat. Hanging off of every word (and translation). There is both a lot happening and not enough. But not many can say that scene left them unmoved. I like that! That means that the audience is engaged! It pulls us in. Especially those of us who love to observe human communication. Yet, now we long to move on from the discomfort that interaction sparked. We long for catharsis. To feel that the conversation they had isn't just hanging there balancing them on a precipice, but that it will be OK for them in the end.

Jungkook’s "Finally" went a long way to guide us to such a resolution, but to me, his relieved exclaim is just the beginning. This, to me, is what the entire show portends to be about.

How does that 'Finally' look like throughout the 8 episodes? How will we look back on that 'Finally' once we've seen them all?

Like I said, we're at the halfway point (already 😭), episode 4, and where is that on-screen relationship building towards? What kind of 'beats' does the story NEED to hit in order to come to a satisfying conclusion within the shows narrative? How does the show earn that 'Finally'?

Sure, Are You Sure is a 'travel-vlog-mukbang-buddy-cop-show', but it's also the story of two seemingly estranged best friends/lovers who've been incredibly busy and who've taken it upon themselves to carve out time to be at ease together. If we look at their busy schedules as being in the way of them being THEM, then the most important goal of AYS is to get them back to that state.

Are You Sure is jikook's safe heaven.

If we were to look at all episodes as a way to work towards that hypothetical goal (Jikook back on the same wavelength) then the story beats per episode look a little like this.

Ep. 1: Two friends embark on road-trip, they've missed eo and want to do fun things together. Lot's of eating.

Ep. 2: Even short term illness can't keep them from sightseeing and eating, more warming up together: spanking in bed edition

Ep. 3: Surprise guest! Cut the camera's: the duo take a pause on domesticity and play games as a trio.

Ep. 4: The duo is the core of the story, pick up where they left off: re-kindling. They make beautiful moments together.

Ep. 5: I expect another conversation about their desire to spend meaningful time together 'Deep talk phase 01'. New location?

Ep. 6: New location but treasured memories pop-up from their first Tokyo trip. What does the future for this duo look like (the military service talk?) aka 'Deep talk phase 02'.

Ep. 7: Level-up: fun snow time activities?!

Ep. 8: More deep talk, 'Phase 03' that cements this duo as utterly and completely besotted with eo. They either talk about their joint enlistment or about traveling after MS...maybe both.

How do you think the next episodes will play out if we think of each episode as building towards a satisfying conclusion?

[writers-potion]

Using Description and Setting Meaningfully

The setting, and a writer's description of it, is an essential part of any story. A good writer would use that setting for more than just a place for things to happen.

Use setting to emphasize other aspects of the story, such as:

Magnify the theme

Convey the general mood

Enlarge conflict

Magnifying Some Theme Through Description

Here's the thing about theme: modern readers aren't looking to be reformed. They wish to be entertained.

So, let description carry the burden of conveying the theme rather than you having to say it!

Side note: Theme is NOT a few haughty ideas you learn in lit class (like pride, beauty, everlasting love) but anything that you are trying to convey in a particular scene (like, trying to get a date). You can have several themes instead of one lofty philiosophical theme. That's fine.

The key here is to pick and choose the kind of details that contributes to the theme. A few examples:

Theme = oppression and manipulation of workers.

Aim = highlight deariness and tension

Setting: a break room in a factory

Details: slow ticking of a clock, raspy gurgling of a coffeemaker, completely utilitarian carpet and walls

Theme = teenager scheming a scam that his father already knows about

Aim = establish stealthy tension

Setting: the breakfast table

Details: toaster loudly launching two slices of bread at exactly the same moment that the teenager realizes his plan is ruined, catlike movements of the "stealthy"teen

Theme = a character's life is about to be transformed

Aim = show that change is imminent

Setting = train platform

Details: the darkness falling, colors of distant hills and the sky changining, the last train rolling in, workers happliy switching from "work mode" to "weekend mood" as the character waits for his train

Conveying Mood and Tone

The mood of a character determines how the story progresses.

If your main character is depressed, the plot will crawl on and take on a brooding, ominous tone. If he is determined, passionate and happy, the plot will speed up into loud, blowing action.

Often, the prevailing mood doesn't come from the character, but from the setting itself.

Again, let's explain by example:

Mood = Gloomy, baleful

Details: Sulphurous smoke, thick fog, horses' hoofs on cobbled streets, vendor's cries, unseen organ creaking out a sinister tune, sounds being muffled

Word choice is important. If you're conveying gloom, using strong verbs like creak, screech and adjectives like sinister and eerie.

Use sensory description: visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory and gustatory.

Another way is to describe simple actions:

Mood = irritation, aggression

Details: mashing the end of a cigarette in his plate, one draught of the coffee in his cup, wiping lips with his napkin - crumpling and dropping in on the table, standing up from the table, staring at the other person.

Mood = Giddiness

Details: flicking water from his glass on a lunch companion, twisting his napkin, playing with food without eating

Once you've established a prevailing mood, you've pretty much set the course of your story. No reader will expect the main character to party all night with loud rock music after a sinister description of his way back home.

Enlarging Conflict

Think of the things or actions that will eventually build up to the main conflict. Then, choose a setting that will naturally bring out such an action/ though from the characters in it.

Conflict = Woman hasn't spoken to her son for a decade and now, she has to confront him

Setting: House where she raised her son, among things that he hasn't seen in all that time, working bits of backstory into objects in the house (tie in a sofa, picture on the wall), mannerisms of the characters as they greet each other at the door.

Allow the setting to provide the little sparks that will blow up eventually. This way, you can effectively cut out that slow middle and jump into action without much effort.

Description is a matter of wordsmithing, of selecting preciosuly the right words to create certain meanings. Make every word and sentence count.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[shewroteaworld]

Movie Date Migraine

Premise: On a movie date with Peter Parker, a migraine strikes you down. You don't want Peter to see you like this, but he refuses to let you go home alone.

Reader is female-identifying. Reader has hair long enough to be put in a ponytail.

Word count: aprox. 3,500

tw: descriptions of nausea and vomiting, reference to childhood trauma (unspecified)

(Y/N) knows she should go home. 

But, she can’t. Not until this movie is finished.

Sitting next to Peter Parker in the darkness of the movie theater, with your forearms touching and fingers brushing when you reach for popcorn, is typically an experience that sends heat dancing up your arms and butterflies flitting around your stomach.

Right now, nausea was the only thing pulsing through your stomach. And with the surround sound tightening the band around your forehead and the lights sending sparks across your vision, Peter’s arm touching yours is only adding to the sensory tsunami slamming you. 

You denied it when zigzags cut across your vision when you touched up your lipstick in the elevator. You denied it when Peter’s voice distorted on your walk to the theater. You denied it when a wave of dizziness hit you on your way to the restroom. But now, you couldn’t deny it any longer: a migraine storm was upon you. A rough night awaits, but you’re not ready for Peter to get up close and personal with your migraines yet.

For your entire life, you battled with migraine. In grade school, the pain forced you out of field trips, sports practices, and musical rehearsals and into bed with blackout curtains drawn, a cool cloth laid on your forehead, and a bucket by your bedside. Not a particularly attractive sight for your new(ish) boyfriend to see. 

The aura for this headache was coming on strong. When the actors’ voices began changing intonation like a chameleon changing colors, you knew a harsh spell encroached. You need to make it through this date and get back to your apartment before Peter sees you collapse in a pile of puke and tears. 

And, you have a game plan. Phase 1: Make it through the film without collapsing or puking. Phase 2: When Peter walks you home, hold his arm and lay your head on his shoulder. It’ll masquerade as a cute gesture, when in reality, you’ll be using him as a human cane. Phase 3: Get home, lock the door, and go into Migraine Emergency Mode. 

Slowly but surely, you were revealing your layers to Peter at a safe, comfortable pace. This shitty action movie was not going to get in the way.

An abrupt on-screen crash shocks you out of your scheming. The main characters sent their car careening into a ditch. Just as the jackhammering in your head began to die down, the car burst into flames.

You throw a hand over your eyes. A gurgle of nausea twists in your gut.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Peter whispers in your ear. 

You snap your eyes open. So much for appearing nonchalant. You take your hand from your face. Red hot pain radiates down your body, but you clamp your lips into a neutral expression. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Do you need some air?”

On one hand, you could surrender. You could let Peter walk you into the foyer and buy you an icy drink to hold to your eye. Maybe you could even let Peter take you home and cuddle you through the pain. You know Peter wants to be there for you. 

You shove those fantasies from your mind.

“No.” You whisper at a volume only Spider-Man could hear. 

Suddenly, a yelling match breaks out on screen. You close your eyes shut. You can’t hold back a whimper.

Peter wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Honey, you don’t seem alright. We can leave.”

Your resolve crumples. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry” barely passes your lips before Peter’s slung both your jackets over his arm and looped the strap of your cross body bag around his fingers. “Please, don’t be sorry.” Peter stands in front of you, but you stare at your lap. Peter’s fingers intertwine with hers. “I’m sure this blockbuster will be here all summer.” He jokes, and in your mind’s eye you can see his smirk. You don’t have the energy to crack a smile.

“C’mon, sweetie.” Gently, Peter grabs your limp wrist. 

You focus all the energy in your body to propel you out of the chair. You stumble into Peter’s chest. 

He stabilizes you. “Okay, baby, okay.” He soothes.

“I’m sorry.” You say. 

“Sweetheart, you’re fine.” He’s bending down to meet your eyes, but you refuse to look at his face. “Lean on me. Let’s get you out of here.”

With Peter’s arm wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his chest, you descend the cinema stairs and make your way out of the theater.

***

Getting down the stairs wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Typically, during a migraine, stairs are your personal hell.

But, with Spider-Man supporting most of your bodyweight, the physical exertion lessens significantly. 

Plus, it’s not just the safety of Spider-Man that’s helping. It’s Peter Parker’s safe hands holding you close. It’s Peter Parker's frame shielding you from gruff moviegoers working their way around you down the mall steps. It’s Peter Parker keeping you upright, and that’s enough to keep your brain generating numbing happy chemicals even in the worst of times.

Peter guides you to a bench next to the atrium. You lay your head on his shoulder, but abruptly sit up. 

This nightmare gets worse from here. You have to go home by yourself. You’re not ready for this. You’re not–

“(Y/N), honey? Are you with me?” Peter’s tenderly cradling your face. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You blink. “I’m here, I’m here.” You take a deep breath to ground yourself from the swirling dizziness. You force a weak smile. “Just a little headache.”

Peter cocks an eyebrow. “A little headache?” He cradles your chin. “You look like you’ve been concussed, babe.” Softer, he asks, “Do you get migraines?”

Your chest falls. The jig is up. “Yeah, I’m having a migraine.”

“Okay.” His tone is soft, but there’s a hardness in his eyes and a pinch between his brows and you know it’s not from worry. He’s annoyed you didn’t tell him. If there’s one thing that puts a rift between you and Peter, it’s that you won’t let him help you. You didn’t tell him when you forgot your lunch the day you had a big presentation. You didn’t tell him when your insomnia came back. You didn’t tell him when you caught the 24-hour bug 2 months ago. And now he knows you’ve been hiding this. 

“I’m sorry.” You squeak.

“Oh, honey, no.” Peter whispers. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of here and in bed. Don’t even think. I’ll get you back to my apartment.” 

“No,” you shake your head but stop when nausea slithers up your throat. You swallow hard. “No, I need to go home.”

“Sweetheart, your apartment’s across town, and I don’t think you can walk or swing right now.”

The damp wool of your sweater constricts your sweaty skin. “I have all my medication and things in my apartment.” You argue, but the fight in your voice is weak.

“I have lots of meds and supplies stocked because of…you know. I think I’ve got everything you need, and I can always swing over to your apartment to grab something.”

Suddenly, a crowd of moviegoers comes stomping towards the foyer, ushering in a cacophony of laughter and voices. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, and Peter drags your face into his shoulder. You fist his sweatshirt and squeeze until your fingers hurt. 

“Let’s get you home, my love.” He whispers.

You know by home he doesn’t mean your apartment. You know he means his place, where you spend half of your time and have your personal belongings threaded through his. 

Maybe it’s the crippling exhaustion. Maybe it’s the fact that every step sends pain shooting through your skull. Regardless, you surprise yourself with your answer. 

“Okay.”

***

“I know, I’m sorry, honey.” Peter whispers into your hair. He presses your body against his side as he leads you to the second set of elevators in the foyer. 

Dating a chemical engineer has its perks; Peter could afford a nice apartment. However, the first set of elevators broke an hour after you left for your date. More steps for you.

Even with Peter nearly carrying you, the final stretch to the elevator feels like a mile. The wait for the elevator to arrive worsens when a twist of nausea wracks your stomach. But soon, the elevator doors ding open.  

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you push against Peter’s hold.

“Babe?” He asks. He lets you go free.

You sink to the floor and unbutton your jacket. You take a deep breath, reveling in the coolness of the air conditioning and freedom from residual body heat. 

“I feel nauseous.” You groan.

He kneels next to you. “Do you need to throw up?” There was something about his hand on your shoulder, his tone, and his stern yet compassionate expression that reminded you of Spider-Man. He’d likely posed that same question on the beat to trauma victims. The guilt bubbling in your stomach amps up the queasiness. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. 

“No.” You say. Peter cocks his brow again. Despite yourself, you shrink. “Maybe later. Not at this moment.” 

“Okay, darling. Would you let me carry you in?”

You swallow your shame. “Yes,” you say. 

Peters picks you up as if you weigh a feather. You wrap your arms around his neck as the elevator opens to his floor. 

***

You’re laying in Peter’s bed with his sheets wrapped around your face. Even with the blinds drawn, the New York City lights burn your sensitive eyes. 

Despite your prior objections, you can’t deny the comfort of laying in Peter’s soft duvet with the spicy scent of his cologne filling your nose. 

You hear the creak of the door as Peter steps into the room.

“Baby?” He whispers. “I brought you some stuff.”

Peter’s gait is slow and light, as if he’s trying not to creak the floorboards. Something taps the bedside table next to you.

“Can I see your head, baby? I know it’s bright outside, but I have this wrap around ice pack I think will really help.”

With a groan, you pull the blankets below your chin. You crack open your eyes, and to your surprise, Peter is holding a black version of your favorite migraine ice pack. It’s like a thick bandage that wraps around your eyes and forehead and velcros closed in the back. It’s cold, pitch black heaven.

You smile weakly. “Thanks, Peter.” You mumble. Dating someone with super hearing is a huge perk when you’re a migraineur. 

“Of course.” He whispers. 

Peter lays the ice pack on your forehead, and your body relaxes. The pain still pulses like a bass drum beat in a metal song, but at least there’s something combating it. 

“Can I help you sit up, sweetie? I want to tie this behind your head.” 

You hum your approval. 

Gently, Peter raises your limp body and velcros the ends of the ice pack behind your head, creating 360 degree relief. 

You moan in relief. “Thank you, Peter.” 

“Oh course, sweetheart. There's a glass of water on the bedside table for you. Would you like some Pepto-Bismol?”

You hold back a gag. “No.” You croak. “But thanks.”

“After I change, can I get into bed next to you?”

You can’t help but smile. He’s so conscientious. Too conscientious. “Of course, Peter.” 

A few minutes later, the bed slowly sinks as Peter gingerly adds his weight.

“Can I speak, darling?” He asks.

“Mm-hmm.” You hum.

“I’ve never been with you during a migraine before. I want to know how to take care of you. Could you answer some yes or no questions for me?” He whispers. “You don’t need to speak. Maybe one finger for yes and two for no.” 

You point your index finger.

“Excellent.” Peter says. “Are you sensitive to light?”

You hold up one finger. 

“Are you sensitive to sound?”

Once again, one finger.

“Are you sensitive to touch?”

You hold up two fingers. There’s some nuance to that, but there was only so much you could communicate. You really needed some sleep.

“Okay. Can I hold you?”

Warmth fills your ribcage. “I can’t lay on my side, but could you hold my hand?” Heat burns your cheeks. “And maybe lay against me?”

“Of course.” Peter whispers, a smile in his voice. 

He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Goodnight, my love. Feel better.”

***

You wake to a knot in your stomach. You twist onto your side which only tightens the cramp. 

You moan. Your eyes crack open only to be weighed down by the ice pack from last night. 

Last night. Peter was a saint. You were an embarrassment. A well-loved and well-cared for embarrassment, but falling over yourself all the same. 

Your shame spiral stops as soon as it begins when a bubble of queasiness turns you rigid. 

Shit. 

Not here. 

Not now. 

You take a deep breath. Peter is slumped against your back, and thanks to his spidey senses, an infinitesimal movement could wake him up. To make matter worse, when it came to you, Peter was always extra jumpy. It was a miracle he hadn’t woken already. 

You take another deep breath. Maybe if you lay as still as a statue, the nausea will go away and you’ll drift off to sleep. 

A second later, like a wave careening to shore, nausea swells in your chest and up your throat. You sprint from the bed, shoving the sheets onto Peter who instantly jumps awake. 

You dash into the bathroom, nearly tripping over your own feet when the carpet transitions to ice cold tile. 

You collapse and promptly stick your head into Peter’s toilet bowl. Your face burns with embarrassment, and the humiliation has not reached its peak. 

You dry heave three times. Of course, when you start throwing up, you feel your hair being lifted from your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry.” Peter whispers. He must have grabbed a scrunchie from your purse, because your hair stays off your face and neck while Peter’s hands rub your back and hold your hand gripping the toilet tank cover. 

You can’t get out the words “get out!” to Peter with all the retching in the way. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright. Breathe, baby.” Peter whispers. He draws wide circles on your upper back, and your shoulders betray you by relaxing into his palm.

You didn’t think your stomach could hold so much. You continue to gag, making a mess of Peter’s bathroom, but Peter never flinches. He continues whispering sweet nothings to you until you finish expelling all of last night’s dinner and popcorn. 

Stomach aching, you collapse against Peter’s chest. 

“You okay?” Peter asks. 

“Yeah.” You pant. 

“Take some deep breaths.” He whispers. “Would you like some water?”

“Could you make me ginger tea?” You ask. Guilt tightens your throat. You were already puking in his bathroom– you could’ve settled for plain water. 

But that’s exactly what Peter has been insisting you work on– being honest about asking for what you need.

He kisses your temple. “Of course.” He says, a smile in his voice. 

Two minutes later, Peter returns to the bathroom, a steaming mug in his hand. 

He places your tea on the edge of the marble counter. “It’s still brewing.” He whispers. 

“You can speak at a normal volume now.” You croak. You were laying on the floor, arms and legs limp yet heavy as lead. 

“Is your headache better?” He asks. 

“Marginally,” You say. “If I throw up, it’s usually better after.” Like the climax of a movie, once you puke during a migraine attack, it’s usually coming to its resolution.

“Okay.” Peter said, returning to his normal volume. He sits next to you. “Do you want to brush your teeth and go back to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

Five minutes later, you’re curled under the covers, half a mug of ginger tea sitting on Peter’s bedside table. 

You’re about to slip into slumber when Peter asks you a question.

“Can I text your boss that you’re not coming in tomorrow?”

Your breath hitches. Your instincts scream “No!” You have to go to work. 

You take what feels like your millionth deep breath in the past 24 hours. But going to work wouldn't be good for your body. You already tried to sit through an action film with a migraine which resulted in you hurling at 3 am. It was time to take Peter’s advice and give your body a break. 

“Yes.” You say, relief and guilt washing over you simultaneously. 

“Okay.” Peter says, satisfaction in his voice. “Sleep tight, my love. Rest up.” 

Peter presses a soft kiss against your hairline as you fall back to sleep.

***

“We need to talk.” 

“I know,” you say. You knew this was coming. As soon as you walked into the kitchen this morning, you could tell Peter was holding something in from the hitch in his jaw. Being the gentleman he is, he gave you the grace of waking up a bit more and making sure your migraine was gone before starting any serious conversation. You watch the brown sugar dissolve into your peppermint tea as you trace the spoon around the circumference of the mug.

“Can we sit?” He asks.

You stop stirring. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You keep your back turned to him. Guilty tears fill your eyes.

“(Y/N), look at me. I’m not mad, I’m just….frustrated? I’m at a loss.” He amends. 

Blinking wasn’t helping. You twist your face further away from Peter,  determined not to let him catch a glimpse of your melodrama from the kitchen table. “It’s okay if you're angry with me. We already talked about this. And I ruined your night.”

“But that’s the problem.” Peter says. “You didn’t ruin anything. The reason I’m annoyed is because you think any little inconvenience like you being sick or unhappy is an annoyance when it’s really not. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to help. I want to figure out how to help you.” He sighs. “And before I can do that, I want to figure out what I can do better to build that trust between us."

You face Peter. “Peter, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve been perfect.” Peter Parker is more of a perfect boyfriend than you could’ve imagined. He’s a human– he’s flawed— but he has one of the most beautiful souls you’ve ever come across. “It’s just me, I’m just…scared.” You admit. You turn your gaze to the kitchen island.

“What can I do to help you feel safer?”

And there was the crux of the issue: Peter has done everything to make you feel safe. But the wall between you and Peter has nothing to do with Peter.

“It’s hard for me to feel vulnerable with people because of…you know.”

Peter nods. He knew most of the unsavory details of your bittersweet childhood. “I know. Did I do something that triggered memories?” Peter asks, anxiety creeping into his voice. 

“Peter.” You meet his eyes for the second time. “Absolutely not. You’re so good to me.” A tear drips down your cheek. “I want to tell you. About everything. I want to call you when I’m sick and tell you when I’m hurting.” You blink up at the ceiling. “It’s just so hard to break through that wall. To feel safe feeling vulnerable again. And I’ve talked about it with my therapist, I’ve been trying it’s just…such a big step.”

“Would it help if we discuss it together? All three of us?” Peter asks. The confusion must have shown on your face. “Maybe we could have a session together so we could work through this.”

“Really?” You ask, voice cracking. 

“Of course, really.” Peter says, half-smiling. 

“You’re not breaking up with me?” The question slips from your lips before you can hold your tongue. 

Peter looks like he’s been slapped. “Over a migraine?”

“Over not being vulnerable enough. Not giving you enough.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth. You weren’t able to give Peter what he needed. Your caged heart won’t open.

Peter stands. “(Y/N), you’ve given me more than enough. Who’s there to stitch me after patrol? Who’s on the phone with me at 3 o’clock in the morning when I have night terrors? Who has all of my grounding strategies memorized because I have panic attacks?”

A small smile slips onto your face. “Me.” 

“(Y/N),” Peter smiles. “You’re the most amazing girlfriend I could ask for.”

You open your arms, and Peter wraps you in the warmest hug. 

Even with someone as safe and loving as Peter, being vulnerable was going to be hard. But if there’s someone you want to go on this trek with, it was Peter Parker. 

“I wouldn't want to go on this journey with anyone but you.”

Peter squeezes you tighter. “We’ll get through this together.”

---

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first fic I've ever finished, and I'm super excited to post this! I'm new to having a writing blog, but would love to start chatting!

xoxo, shewroteaworld

[jensensitive]

The One Thing I Want

I am selfish in my want of you Free infinity a boundless gift It was given without any condition And what do I want to make of it?

You. Just you.

The author’s life is spared, pen taken And you’ve written this song, this book Blank, blue pages of sky a declaration When heaven’s given without a look An afterlife without a sense of after Without a then and just a now Because you were and you are And yet without your eyes I have no how

My days spent staring at a sky you made for me And my nights spent quiet talking low The dark room casting us to match You formless filling my chamber Makes up everything I know

I touch tactile over jeans, my own skin And I want yours Flayed angel made of air and sparks And I want more Human things– to want, to dream And yet you want me Do you want me? Do you want? Without a body?

I feel the sunwarm blush in the dark The heat of you when I talk like this Of want and need in a muffled hush apart Teeth biting crescents into my fist

I’m filled so wholly of selfish ache Deep greed for the little I lack Is this Heaven if I can’t touch your wings Or the scapular strength that spans your back I breathe out prayers, sighs in broken off sounds For want of shaking, snaking palms The thrum in wrist and neck and chest The sounds you’d make my only psalms As I hold a dish in my hands to partake As I lick a plate full clean I need your body to consume you Sweat and mouth and all gone unseen

You said the happiness isn’t in having But I want you so much anyway I crave at grasping and holding without hands to hold And you said you wanted me You said you wanted me But if it held is all I pray

Mourning dove cry of my heart cries longing For the shape of you pulsing my hand And blue-ringed eyes poison paralyzing Pinning me down to the bed

Where Hell was embodied of torture Visceral, nerve-bright and real Heaven has sensory pleasure And you’re all that I have want to feel

And when I claim need of your body to hold And when I feel your warmth that’s you And when I tell you that it’s you I miss The air wavers And gravity pitches And you tell me you miss you too.

[wrathofrats]

That posts just got me thinking about Swiss going into heat with Phantom in his bed. They're still new to the sexual side to their relationship but Phantom would do anything to help the pathetic whining ghoul next to him, even if it means trying out a lot of new kinks he's never even thought about

I got carried away as usual are we surprised.

Sorry this took like … 6 months HAHAH

Forgive My Reasons And What I Can’t Disguise.

Swiss/phantom, 2k, explicit

Read below or on ao3!

Warnings for: dubious consent, dollification, objectification, heat, knotting, sensory deprivation, i made it fucking weird as usual.

Or swiss goes into heat, phantom gets himself in more hot water than he can probably handle.

Phantoms shirt was soaked. The body underneath him radiating heat he only thought possible by a fire ghoul.

Swiss still hadn’t woken up, his skin was shiny with his own sweat, likely the cause for the dark splotches on phantoms shirt. His breathing was heavier than usual, the up and down motion of his chest likely the cause of phantom waking up at an hour he is sure is supposed to be illegal. Oh, and the heat. The waves of heat that are almost suffocating.

“Swiss, swiss” phantom grabbed his shoulders and shook. Swiss was never one to wake up easily, he was sure that they could downright bomb the building and swiss would be none the wiser. It was useless, and considering the state he’s in phantom doesn’t know if he truly has time to mess around with trying to wake him gently.

Could he be sick? Did they catch some human illness at mass? The siblings were cesspools of diseases unknown to the ghouls, they would come in to the infirmary constantly with things that truly sounded demonic in nature. Bronchitis, gonorrhea, hell he’s surprised they didn’t just start naming the common cold asmodeus.

That wasn’t the point though. Phantoms finger sparked with a small purple bolt of electricity before placing it against Swiss’ temple. An old quintessence trick, nothing to hurt whoever it was, but it was enough to jump them out of their sleep.

Swiss shook, eyes flying open while his breathing only got heavier, he gave phantom a confused look before taking in the state they were both in. Phantoms shirt clinging to him with sweat and swiss practically dripping with his own. He felt a sharp tug in his stomach, before throwing his arm over his face with a groan.

“Are you ok? Are you sick? I can call aeth-“

“I’m in heat bug” swiss sighed. “Thought I had more time but clearly I was very wrong, otherwise I would’ve locked myself in mountains room for the night”

The pit of worry in phantoms chest melted into a feeling of arousal, something needy. He’d never been able to help another ghoul with their heat, only really knowing that it’s happening when he asks where someone is just to hear banging on the walls and growling from another ghouls room. Locked away to do who knows what in order to quell the animalistic need.

Swiss started to get up, throwing the suffocating blankets to the side in order to stand in the middle of the room instead of in the bed, which seemed to only make the warmth worse.

“Sorry about this phantom, I’m going to head to dews room and see if I can get it to go away anytime soon” swiss threw on a shirt that was laying on the floor, shaking out his locs and throwing them up into a loose bun in an attempt to cool down his face and neck.

“Wait” phantom scrambled out of bed “you don’t have to go, I can help you”

“Bug it’s a lot more intense than you’re thinking, it’s hard to control myself, I don’t want to hurt you or scare you off” swiss was practically panting by now, his sweatpants tented obscenely and were slung low around his hips. His hands clenched at his sides, he was getting desperate, about to snap if he couldn’t fuck out his heat as soon as possible.

“Please scare me, show me how to handle your heat, use me” phantom nearly begged. Swiss didn’t need much convincing, his heat already clouding his judgment. On any other day he would’ve taken it slow, explained to phantom exactly what was going to happen. But in a state like this? After phantom told him to scare him? It’s hard to keep a calm demeanor.

Swiss just nods, not trusting himself to actually speak without biting. He backs phantom up against the bed, phantoms legs spreading for swiss to stand in between. He grabs his hips, simply staring at his thighs with small, tight boxers being the only thing covering him. He looked small in Swiss’ grip. There was a pause in their movements while swiss tried to maintain composure. With dew he could easily bend the little thing over and take as he pleased, but with phantom? Part of him still worries. New and not used to how hard some of the others play.

But his need only grows. The fire in him only getting worse as he tries to stave it off.

“Tell me again. Tell me that you want this again. Tell me to scare you phantom” swiss practically growls.

“Break me swiss, I’m yours to use”

Swiss pushes against him hard, forcing him up the bed to lay on the pillows. He doesn’t waste any time pulling the clothes off of him, ridding him of his still wet shirt and boxers, watching as his cock rapidly thickens as swiss strips him.

His hand immediately grabbed at his neck, forcing his head back. He can feel Swiss’s breath on his skin. It feels predatory, the heavy breathing and sharp teeth so close to his jugular that a part of him truly is afraid, especially after swiss warned him he couldn’t control himself.

“Don’t think you know what you’ve done bug” swiss chuckled lowly into phantoms ear. “Won’t be able to stop myself from fucking ruining you now, gonna just turn you into a sex doll”

Phantom whimpered, pulling his head further to the side to expose the skin more, invite swiss to take what he needs. As his eyes close he felt the ghoul on top of him shift, rummaging through his bedside drawer.

Before he can open his eyes they’re covered with a soft black cloth, completely shielding his vision.

“Uh, swiss?” Phantoms voice shook. It was a weird feeling, he was used to being in tune with everything at all times. Quintessence making him sensitive to any change in the air. But without his vision? It feels weird, he knows he can’t be in control but this is a different level of loss that makes him actually fearful.

“Said your mine to use right? Don’t need to see anything. Just gotta stay still”

“Yeah I- if that’s what you want” swiss didn’t want to admit how much the fear in phantoms voice turned him on, a horrible part of him relishing in the control and power he feels from it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you relax doll”

A spark of quintessence jolted through phantoms nerves. He quickly realized he could no longer move, couldn’t shake his head, couldn’t lift a finger, couldn’t even speak. could only lay still and wait.

There was a small nudge in his brain, another bit of quintessence used to communicate. Quints were known to be able to talk to each other with their magic, and although swiss had a much weaker grasp, there was still the necessary sense of safety knowing if he needed to safe word he easily could, and he knew those were Swiss’ intentions.

He trusted him. Phantom just kept having to repeat that he trusted him. The hands on his body felt tenfold what the usually do without being able to see them. His cock kicked on his stomach, a small bit of liquid dribbling onto his stomach. It was almost embarrassing how hard he was given the circumstances, he should be afraid, he shouldn’t be into this, but he’s so hard it almost hurts. Swiss still wasn’t moving, and phantom realized that being able to take away phantoms ability to see and move was arousing enough to keep swiss under control of himself, even if just for a bit. He was getting off to phantom being a doll.

“Could just keep you like forever bug, let everyone use you to fuck out their heats, do whatever depraved things I know they’ve been dying to do to you. And you’d just let them wouldn’t you?” Phantom couldn’t nod, couldn’t protest, couldn’t respond. “That’s a good doll. Knew you wanted it.” Swiss laughed at the lack of response.

Two fingers prodded at phantoms hole. They were slightly slick, likely hastily licked by swiss in order to provide just a little glide. The intrusion still burned, thick and hasty, barely even for phantom comfort, more just so swiss knows he will fit.

“Sweet little thing. You almost feel real” swiss added another finger, spreading them wide to watch as phantoms hole stretched around them.

Phantoms skin felt like it was static, like he truly may be made of plastic. The fingers in him not even trying to give him any pleasure, more just an uncomfortable intrusion than swiss trying to get him off as well.

But phantom wasn’t supposed to get off. He was a toy. Silicone and nothing more according to swiss.

He could hear the rustling of clothing, a sign Swiss was actually about to fucking him properly. The smell of need from the both invaded his senses, made his already fuzzy head even more dizzy with the need to be used.

It hurt. Swiss was too big and it hurt. He barely fit, slowing sinking into him and only waiting for it to stop being borderline uncomfortably tight.

“You’d think you’d have more give, good thing I don’t have to worry about hurting you do I?” The talking felt like swiss was mocking him. Solidifying the fact that he couldn’t do anything like this.

After a minute or two swiss pulled out slowly, before slamming back into him. “Forgot I just gotta force you to stretch out. Silly me”

Phantom truly felt like a rag doll, the only sense of stability being where swiss held his hips in place. The rest of his body simply moved as swiss pleased, shaking with the force of his thrusts instead of being able to grab something to keep him on solid ground.

Once he adjusted the burning feeling melted into pleasure, Swiss rammed into his prostate, holding his hips up against him to get as deep as he possibly could. It felt amazing, the lack of sight and movement only heightening the simulation.

He wanted to beg, sob even. Needed swiss to touch him properly. He felt so close to the edge without even the relief of knowing he will finally get off because he truly doesn’t know what swiss is going to do to him.

There was swelling at the base of Swiss’ cock as it continued to pound into him. He was going to knot him, phantom should’ve known that this is how you break a heat but it still scared him. He couldn’t see how big it was, could only hope it was at least relatively painless.

“Gonna get you stuck on me, tear you open so no one else will fit. Make you fucking mine” swiss gave a final thrust before it finally popped into him with a sickening squelch. It didn’t hurt but god he felt overwhelmingly full, like he was going to fucking bust open if swiss moved at all.

He heard panting above him, Swiss’ hands soothing up and down his hips.

The blindfold was delicately removed, and swiss slowly used his magic to bring phantom back to.

“Fuck you’re so good to me bug, are you alright?” He breathed

“Yeah, m fine” phantoms brain felt like soup, like it could leak out of his ears.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, I liked it, like that I made a good toy for you” phantom gave swiss a sleepy smile. He was worn out, the given control back making him realized how sore his muscles are.

“Can I finish you off baby bat? Let me make you feel good?” Phantom just nodded. He squirmed under Swiss’ hand on his cock, sensitive and overwhelming after being used. His fist took up most of it, cute and sticky, flushed a deep red. It didn’t take much, just a couple strokes before phantom came along his torso with a pained whimper.

“There you go baby, my sweet lovebug”

[jordosprout]

Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.

Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.

I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3

Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.

Sprouting Within the Soul

Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)

Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.

Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.

Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use

WC: 3,955

Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!

__

You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.

She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.

Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.

Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.

Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.

__

With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.

You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.

You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.

It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.

Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.

Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.

But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!

You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Dejarik. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.

“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!” 

You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.

“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.

“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.

You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”

“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”

Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”

Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”

“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?

Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.

“Maybe it'll be fun.”

“Heh, works for me.”

“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.

You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.

Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.

It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?

__

As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people. 

‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’

“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.

“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”

You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.

But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable. 

‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’

The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.

You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.

“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.

“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.

One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls. 

“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.

‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’

“It appears anything goes out there.” 

The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.

__

You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did. 

‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’

“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.

“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.” 

“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”

Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.

Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech. 

__

You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.

Which wasn't much apparently.

A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters. 

“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”

‘Why’s that matter to him?’

He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”

Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him. 

“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”

After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.

You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line. 

__

You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.

But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.

So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up. 

And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.

“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.” 

And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?” 

“More than you got, kid.”

“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”

“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”

“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.” 

“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.” 

You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.

“If we win, we get Cid.”

“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”

You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”

“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.

“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly

“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.

“So we have a deal?”

“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”

As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”

You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”

__

After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place. 

“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.

“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”

TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.

Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.

“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”

You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.

__

Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep. 

You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you. 

“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”

“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”

You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.

“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.

“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”

He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.

“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”

“Hopefully not”

__

You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.

Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.

It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.

After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.

You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.

__

Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.

“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.

“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”

“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.

“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”

Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.

Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.

“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.

“Problem?”

You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.

He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.

‘Oh’

He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you. 

“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.

You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to. 

He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.

“Did you win?”

He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.

“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.

“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment. 

You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.

“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”

You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”

He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.

“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”

Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”

“You do?”

“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”

You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”

He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”

You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.

You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.

“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.

[l4long-winded]

o n e - s h o t m a s t e r l i s t

r e a d o n a o 3

summary: one-shots, blurbs, concepts, requests—it's an all-you-can-eat literature buffet of assorted pieces centering around, you guessed it, carmen berzatto (carmen berzatto x fem!reader)

warnings: religious imagery and symbolism, insecurities, dirty talk, mental health dialogue, finger sucking, p in v, cigarettes, sensory description, pussywhipped!carmen, cursing, kissing, cynicism, humor, pussydrunk!carmen, slander of the elderly, secret relationship, rising, praise kink, filth, subby!carmy, overstimulation, oral, oral fixation, inner dialouge, possessive!carmy, jealous!carmy, multiple orgasms, pet names, past relationship(s), donna menton, office sex, dom!carmy, angst, references to mikey passing, reminiscing, smoking, angry sex, enemies to lovers, walk-in sex, arguing, apologies, post-breakup (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 19,000+ (ongoing)

t a b l e o f c o n t e n t s (listed in alphabetical order)

admiration

carmen is totally whipped and he knows it as he observes you.

a guilty heart's plea(s)

carmen's said some unforgivable things to you. and yet here he is at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him.

basil, monterey jack, and the simplicity of a kind gesture

you're late for work, rushing out the door, and carmen notices you've left your lunch behind. he can't help but interject his talents.

chase them away

carmen comforts you after you have a nightmare.

concept: carmen tries to quit smoking

it's a pretty self-explanatory title.

concept: carmen's head in your lap

carmen's sleepy, and your thigh makes for a great pillow.

despite it all

you love carmen despite his self-doubt and insecurities.

fantasize

you show carmen an innocent song.

fire in the freezer

it's opening night and you're stuck inside the walk-in with your boss, carmen. can the night get any worse?

fresh, unwilting daisies

carmen gets possessive after your ex boyfriend stops by and leaves you a bouquet of daisies.

holland cream filled

carmen is trying to keep it together. your talented tongue does not have the same goal.

it's more like a fascination

getting a glimpse into one of carmen's obsessive infatuations passionate fascinations.

loss of thought

it's hard to think when you have carmen like this.

making up (is hard to do), bonus

carmen tries to regain your spark in the bedroom after a nasty fight.

saliva (just a little bit)

the concept of carmen spitting in your mouth.

secretly dating carmen: part i, part ii

there are reasons to suspect you and carmen through how you interact with one another in the kitchen.

the phone call regarding the onions

richie won't stop calling and despite how busy carmen is, he picks up the phone. he didn't know richie would take so long to tell him about his trip to the farmer's market, let alone how impatient you would be in his lap.

the plan mikey never got to

you come across a picture of one of mikey's family members. he has to be careful not to think too much about carmen.

those sweet, sweet, effectual praises

in which you talk an inexperienced carmen through it.

when you wear his white shirt

carmen has a thing for you in his white shirt.

[5eraphim]

I have a request for a short little one✨ But only if you have the time and want to👍

So darling is like this smart, classy, intelligent woman spy meets and gets obsessed with and makes plans to manipulate her. But she ofcourse catches on and the next day she's gone, so spy has to hunt her down. When he does find her he has a completly new apperance due to his discuises and reader is genuinly interested in him. So one night they drink or something and darling gets drugs sliped in her drink so spy gets to fuck her un-discuised and she gets to have high, amazing sex with the person she dispises the most without even realizing it. Darling doesen't really know she's practicly been raped or find out it this man was spy all along! Yay!

Men will truly display some of the lowest depravity imaginable and then grab a shovel. (<- support class behavior)

Title: Unspoken Alliances

Character: Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: yandere, x reader, dubcon/deception, toxic relationship, drugging/forced intoxication (MDMA, ecstasy and alcohol), sensory deprivation, restraints, AFAB reader, mind games, revenge sex, marking/biting, teasing

Word Count: 7.2k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"Love goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." Much Ado About Nothing, Act 2 Scene 3, Shakespeare

"Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eye are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye." Plato's Republic Book VII

"So beautiful. What a tragedy you can't see it for yourself." His voice was low and breathy, almost purring. Close enough to feel his breath against your cheek as he stretched out beside you, but from your position, blindfolded and restrained by ropes laying on your back, just out of reach from the man in bed. 

Ever since you shared a cocktail with the mercenary you believed to be Medic earlier that evening, you felt something special spark between you both. The moment that last sip of alcohol passed your lips, something awakened, aroused, and unrestrained by former inhibitions; in a matter of a few hours, the two of you wound up in the same bed. A touching act of intimacy overshadowed by two factors unknown to you. Firstly, it wasn't just alcohol you consumed, and second, the one who gave you that drink wasn't Medic.

Blindfolded, your hands were bound over your head with a soft, stiff black rope, the same rope which wound around both your ankles, pinning them down flat and securing them to the bottom bed legs. Keeping them fully extended and spread, you didn't need the ropes to comply, but he insisted. Annoyingly, you were still clothed, incredibly turned on, and unable to do anything to solve that problem yourself, forced to wait with agonizing anticipation for your partner to make the next move.

But that was your own problem, as the man was in no rush now that the hard part of the evening was over. After a rough start, Spy lured you back to his place to spend the evening with him, of your own free will- with just a bit of incentivizing from him. Exactly how he wanted you.

Spy tried to play fair at first, planning to court you civilly. Far be it from him to fall fast for a stranger, but it had been too long since he shared his bed with a woman, making Spy act a bit impulsively, almost desperately. However, even with sex on his mind, Spy didn't want to come off too imposing too soon. Better to appear mysterious, magnanimous, and charming to attract you closer rather than risk scaring you away by making his real intentions known. 

He thought he was playing all his cards right. He'd been in this situation before more times than he bothered to remember. Spy invited you to an innocent cup of coffee with him during your lunch break to discuss work, his treat, of course. But despite Spy's best efforts to play things safe, after waiting fifteen minutes past the agreed time at the cafe, he understood with grim bitterness that you stood him up. 

It hurt to be blown off like that, but Spy refused to allow this to be the end of it. He returned to work later and discovered you left hours before. He heard you complained about some kind of illness, but Spy knew you were likely just trying to avoid him or any confrontation. Fortunately, Spy was tipped off that you were planning on heading to another coffee house on the other end of town to finish your work, the kind open late into the night and was accustomed to customers occupying space for hours while chain-drinking caffeinated beverages.

It was naive to assume you could just run off to some cafe for a few hours while hiding from him. 

It was all too easy for Spy to find you under the disguise of another, offer you a spiked drink, and watch you fall into his arms. Spy spared no precaution. Even with the MDMA pumping through your system, scrambling your sensory information and reasoning, he was too close now to risk you waking up. You were so needy and cute when you were drugged out of your mind. It made bringing you home and back to bed with him so easy. Letting him walk you upstairs to his bedroom while hanging off his arm, giggling, wearing the intoxication on your sleeve. If he wanted, Spy bet he could push you up against the wall and take you in the hallway, and you'd let him; you'd love him for it. But he had better things in mind for tonight.

During the drive home, Spy shed his disguise, carefully ensuring he had the cover of the darkness on his side before doing so, but when he checked on you using his peripheral vision, you were too out of it to notice a thing. Quiet jazz hummed through the static-softened radio, the scrape of windshield wipers against soft rain, and the quiet ambient sounds of traffic, all softening and melting together in your mind, making you feel like you were in a cozy dream.

If you were beautiful when Spy first met you, where you were focused, headstrong, and in "work mode," seeing you all tuckered out and woozy sprawled out in his passenger seat made you all the more desirable. So innocent and at peace, at this point in your drug-induced haze, you were beginning to detach from reality, your mind unraveling as a pleasurable brain fog began to roll in. But it was only a matter of time before the alcohol and MDMA really hit your system and, subsequently, your libido.

In a haze, you were brought from the front door to the one in his bedroom. To his surprise, you were somehow aware you were in his bedroom, and using a wall to support yourself, managed to peel away from Spy enough to wobble your way over to the bed, not bothering to turn on a bedroom light to find the bed. He felt a throb, watching the smile on your face as you sat on the edge before going boneless as your limp shoulders and spine made contact with the luxurious sheets. Conflicted, Spy wondered if you were so desperate to get into bed because of drowsiness or lust, but judging by the kisses shared before the ride over, Spy refused to believe you wanted this any less than he did.

Using his own body to support yours, and his shoulder to rest your head on, Spy lead you inside. It was a miracle he didn't accidentally uncloak himself before getting you home. You were so trusting to accept his drink and even allow him to goad you into drinking it so fast. Ever the sadist, Spy felt quite a stir watching you begin to nod off. Rubbing in the cruelty a little harder by skimming over the top secret documents you were working on before he showed up, the ones you were in charge of protecting, knowing he could use this as blackmail later. 

As you slid into a comfortable spot in the center of the bed, making sure to slip off your shoes before entering, lying comfortably on your back, taking a moment to appreciate having somewhere so comfortable to stretch out. A sound halfway between a yawn and a sigh passed your lips as you lethargically made yourself comfortable. The bottom hem of your top just barely pulled upward as you stretched out, exposing the skin beneath to the comfortably chill bedroom air. Without thinking, you were about to pull your shirt off from over your head when Spy spoke from a few paces to your side. He stalked closer to the bed, his hands finding yours, thin fingers firmly wrapped around your hands, keeping them still. If you were clear-headed, you would've instantly detected how small the hands holding your own were, far smaller than Medic's ought to have been.

But logic and suspicion didn't matter now. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your entire body felt like an overextended tendon, full of anticipation just seconds away from snapping. 

The excitement made you giddy. And childishly, you tried to fidget your hands out from his grasp while he kept you pinned in place without budging. 

"C'mon- it's too hot in here, I wanna take everything off." The voice you heard hardly sounded like your own, so slurred and pouty.

In a far more measured voice, Spy responded, "Whining will get you nowhere. You're in my house now. You follow my rules here."

He sounded so cold and detached that you couldn't help but mope, trying to focus your gaze up at the smear of non-descript shadow where his face ought to be.

Spy felt a twinge of regret for being so harsh, "I promised I'd bring you here for a good time, didn't I? Be patient, and I will make it worth your time."

From your spot in bed, you stared up at Spy with wide, unfocused eyes and nodded once. Crouching down much closer to the bed, Spy's face was close enough now that you could feel his breath as it fanned against your own face. "Allow me to be the one to undress you tonight."

It wasn't a request. It was a definitive statement. Your eyes drift shut, as the mere thought of him undressing you made you throb. You wanted it so damn bad, but the best you could do to communicate such a want was a timid little nod and a vague noise of understanding. 

"Tonight, we're doing this my way. Now lay nice and still for me." Without Warning, you felt his hand make contact with the side of your face, holding something soft and sleek in his hands.

Spy, holding a long, thin cloth with both hands, made an effort to secure the fabric over your eyes, but for just a moment, the trance was broken as you pulled away a bit confused and slurring, "Blindfold?" You tried to focus on the mass of shadows where his face was, trying to formulate a complete sentence was too hard, but you hoped he understood what you meant and would explain himself. 

Rather than an explanation, Spy remained absolutely still but responded in a voice far less soft than before, practically growling, "As I said before, you're in my bed now. Now lay back and obey. I will not warn you again."

Without another word, you clenched your jaw shut and held your head as still as possible while he worked swiftly. Spy pulled away to sit upright in bed, "Give me your wrist." he ordered.

You knew better than to question him again and compiled without a word. Feeling a sick thrill for being ordered around like this. If you were sober, you might find such unquestioning obedience shameful, but if logic was already forgotten, shame followed soon after. You couldn't be bothered. It felt too good to allow someone else to take control after so much stress at work. There was no need to think; your body knew how to respond to his touch, obey commands, and submit.

It wasn't long until Spy managed to restrain both wrists together at the headboard and ankles to the bottom corners of the bed before you felt the bed dip beside you as he returned to his seat beside you. 

Blindfolded and spread, you were a vision he'd never forget, even while fully clothed. And he couldn't help but smile as he crawled into place on all fours about you, hearing your breath deepen and how you couldn't stop fidgeting beneath him, feeling too hot under the layers of fabric that separated your body from his.

The feeling of his body so close to where you needed him the most, you tried to buck your hips upward where you thought he would be, only to come up too short below to get any friction, unaware of the pathetic little sounds you made tring to get any kind of stimulation from the man in bed.

Spy whispered, his voice dripping with faux sympathy, "Poor thing, you're looking so flustered. Is something wrong?"

You nodded and tried to speak but couldn't get any actual words out to urge him on. Spy snickered to himself as he rebalanced his weight onto one arm while he used his other to skim his hand over your shirt, just above your belly, stopping over your belt buckle as you stiffened up, expecting him to undo it for you, but he kept his hand irritatingly still, making you shutter almost panting, under the strain of forcing the muscles in your core to keep from grinding against his hand.

"I'll undo the belt for you, but only if you ask properly." The smug bastard.

Not a full second later you murmured out a needy "C'mon, please! Please just do it already!" To which Spy responded by pulling his hand further away, much to your frustration.

"You can do better than that. You're a smart woman. Use your words." He sounded almost bored, but you could feel him smirking down at you without needing to see his face. If there was one thing you could count on from men of the support classes, it was ceaseless sadism. You should've known he was going to draw this out.

"Please, please undo my belt, I'm too hot- F-feels like I'm dying down here!" It was hard to speak due to the vague numbness of the face and how your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth. You knew the words were garbled; you wouldn't be surprised if you were drooling and your voice hardly coherent over the sound of your own labored breathing, but worse of all, he still didn't seem convinced.

"Hm. Not bad. But you're rather amusing when you're begging for me. Too amusing for your own good. Perhaps I should keep you here a little longer."

You were ready to sob from the frustration of it all. "C'monn, it's not fair, I wanna touch you too! I wanna feel your body with mine- I wanna make you feel good too!" 

Apparently, you said exactly what he wanted to hear as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your face, whispering, "You already are."

Shifting back to sit on his knees, Spy could now use both hands to take off your belt before pulling the zipper down. You sigh with relief at the cool air against the exposed and overheated skin. 

For a moment, you were able to take a deep breath to enjoy this before saying, "Please, take the rest off- you're killing me down here!"

Spy wasn't done yet. Rising from the mattress, he walked to the side of the bed, cupping your cheek, making you nuzzle against the stiff leather glove; you'd never felt so starved for the contact of another. Using his free hand to draw his knife, kissing the side of your face with the flat of the blade. The cold steel against your cheek made you shiver, "You want your clothes off so bad; you don't mind if I use this little thing, do you?. You aren't afraid, are you?"

If he had any lingering reservations, you would break out of your ecstasy-fueled trance; they were entirely gone. Not even with his signature butterfly knife pressed directly against your face did you realize who you were dealing with. 

The slight sting of the knife felt like heaven, and you sighed, knowing relief was so close you could taste it. "Cut them off, I don't need them anymore- just you. You're everything I need." Aside from the spike in libido, your emotions were significantly heightened, and you could feel your heart swell as the words left your mouth, and you felt in that moment, you truly loved the man beside you- whoever the hell he was anyway.

Spy too felt distracted for just a moment at the sincerity in your voice. He expected you'd gone entirely cum-brained by now and didn't expect you to say something surprisingly touching. Starting at the bottom of your pants, he pinched the fabric taught with one hand and used the other to start cutting with the knife with surgeon-like precision, then making likewise work to your shirt, leaving you almost entirely bare. Thankfully, he knew what he was doing because you refused to make this easy for him, constantly wriggling in place, distracting him by sighing as the clothes were practically peeled away.  

Feeling a few layers of clothing peeled away felt like a massive weight off your chest. It wasn't long before you were left in nothing but undergarments, which were promptly cut away like the rest of your clothes. 

You hardly realized the fabric was gone or that Spy was back between your legs until you felt an ungloved hand tracing up your inner thigh lightly, taking his sweet time before his hand eventually found your sex. Spy applied almost no pressure to his fingers, but the contact alone made you go giddy, unable to stop squirming as Spy's fingers began to move slowly and without much pressure.

Feeling the slick coating his fingertips as his eyes drifted shut, he grinned with satisfaction, feeling how fast you were coming undone. Allow his fingers to move on their own, and his thumb placed firmly against the skin over your clit. You tried to buck upwards and angle your hips to feel his thumb where you needed it, but he knew exactly what he was doing and didn't budge until you settled down. You knew without having to say anything or even look at him to understand the message he was trying to send you, be good, and he'll give you what you want, but not until he's ready. In other words, "Sit, stay, and beg."

Using his other hand, still gloved, he pushed your thighs open a bit wider, massaging the soft, sensitive flesh of your upper thigh. With his help keeping your thighs spread and pressed down against the mattress, you found it much easier to remain stable, keeping your motion limited to your back arching up from the bed, your knees buckling with such tension, you swore you could feel the nervous tremors making your legs shake and head pull back and forth in rhythm with your heavy, labored breathing. Spy was pleased to see how well you managed to hold steady, content enough to use two fingers to stroke up against your slit, just hard enough for his fingertips to slip in before slipping back out as he traced upwards. Gaging your reaction, he dropped his thumb to connect with your clit as he slipped a finger inside, watching you jolt a little in surprise. 

Spy didn't need to move too long to find where he was looking for, his single finger curling up, feeling every inch of warm, slick softness he could while you struggled to stay still. Spy could feel your struggle, and with a tone of slight mockery, Spy hummed, "It's alright if you want to grind against me since you've been so good at being docile. I'll give you permission."

It was perfect timing, too; as he slid a second finger in, you felt yourself tense up, your own body overjoyed at the stimulation, before you began to roll your hips in rhythm with his hand as his fingers curled inside, trying to find that spot he found earlier. Before long, you were trying to choke back a moan- slightly nervous Spy would decide to punish you if you got too loud while he pumped his fingers inside. You tried your hardest to keep up with his pace, but as he moved faster and harder inside, you were too tense to move much on your own and let him play with your body as he wanted. All of the tension and heat building at your core felt like it was getting too much to handle, you could feel the oncoming climax, and you were ready for it.

Spy planned on making you wait longer for your first orgasm of the night, but now that he was here sitting in the moment, he felt almost as excited as you were to let it happen. And with one more roll of his thumb, timed perfectly with the fingers inside, it happened.

Despite the heavy restraints, you felt like you were flying. When you felt yourself coming against Spy's hand, your mind was lost in a drug and pleasure-induced euphoria that made you whimper and groan as you rode out the high as long as you could. You could hear Spy saying something but couldn't really understand. You weren't entirely back to your senses, but when he swiped his thumb against your forehead to wipe some of the sweat away before planting a loving kiss, you beamed, knowing whatever he was saying, it must've been good! 

After such an intense experience, you clenched and unclenched your hands into fists, curling your toes, trying to gently work the feeling back into them. The past few hours were a blur, the past few days were painful, but now nothing mattered to you but this moment. As you stewed a bit longer in a soothing afterglow, comfortably recalling the events of the evening before, which brought you here.

You should've finished your work before heading out for the night. But when your intuition told you to avoid men, you found it best not to question it. Spy wasn't the type to offer anyone kindness without wanting something in return, and you had a bad feeling about exactly what he wanted. You hardly knew Spy but weren't surprised to learn he was the type to think a few charismatic advances entitled him to easy access to you whenever he pleased. And as soon as you got the chance, you packed up your work for the day and left base. The distance from base gave you the comfort to believe you'd escaped Spy for the evening, but for someone like Spy, who made a living of hiding and stalking, you could only do so much to remain undetected, and if he wanted to find you, there wasn't much you could do to protect yourself. It was hard to keep from watching the other patrons of the coffeehouse closely, and you couldn't help looking over your shoulder, expecting to see someone else watching you. But no one was there waiting, and hardly anyone noticed your staring. You were beginning to think you wouldn't feel safe again until you were back in your own bed.

It was mid-afternoon when you arrived at the small, decently secluded cafe lounge to get work done. Still, you were so distracted thinking about Spy, and the general noise and bustle of a public location kept you from much productivity. By now, the sun already set, the work day technically ended hours ago, and you had little to show for it, and your frustration only made it harder to focus. 

Your eyes wandered from your screen to the empty mug beside you, and you considered if another drink would inspire some more progress or at least justify occupying your space in the cafe for so long. Before you could decide your next move, a hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality. 

"Good evening!" You stiffened visibly upright in your seat at the sound of someone close behind speaking, gently squeezing your shoulder to get your attention. Your head whipped over your shoulder to see Medic, chipper as ever, standing less than a breath away behind you, still in his work attire, though thankfully clean of any bloodstains or crusted bits of entrails or bone that might've clung to him during combat.

"Hey, Medic, I didn't see you there!"

He grinned, "Did I frighten you?"

Relaxing at the sight of a friendly face, you mirrored his grin, "Not at all, old man." 

Without waiting for an invitation, Medic turned to the largely blank Word doc on your screen and the pile of documents beside the laptop, "Still at work?"

You weren't supposed to let any of the mercenaries get a peek at confidential documents, but if you were honest, there was almost no information for him to steal. Shutting the laptop, you gathered the papers, organizing them back into their folder while he watched. 

"I was on my way out, actually. Though a change of scenery would make me more productive, I think I better call it a night." You realized it seemed rude to pack up as soon as he showed up, but you were far from home, and if you wanted to catch the bus back to town, you needed to head out. 

"Leaving so soon?" Medic questioned.

You picked up your dirty mug, keeping your eyes on it as you drummed your fingers against the ceramic, "Sorry, I wanted to make it home before dark. I really should head before it gets too late."

He nodded, "You came pretty far out of your way to get a little work done. Is something troubling you?"

Your first instinct was to play it off as nothing, to lie and give some lame excuse about always wanting to visit this longue, but why bother? Odds were, if you couldn't focus here, rushing home wouldn't do your productivity any favors. Checking the time, you confirmed it wasn't all that late and decided to go ahead and tell him the truth.

Sitting back in your seat, you set the mug back onto the table, staring out the window at the streetlights piercing the winter night fog. "It was another mercenary on your team. He was acting weird, and I didn't want to run into him again today, so I came here."

Not a full second later, Medic replied, "It was Scout, wasn't it."

You smiled, "Surprisingly, no." 

He looked at you expectantly. Despite the nearly empty coffee house, you quickly scanned to see if anyone was listening in on this conversation, which obviously none were, before replying in a quieter voice, "It was Spy. I can't explain it, but he was being so nice to me. I don't trust that, not from him anyway." 

Medic nodded, "You think he wanted something from you?"

"I think I know exactly what he wanted." You grumbled.

He put a hand on your knee, trying to express sympathy. "You're smart to get away so fast."

"I want to think so, but I just know he's going to be all bitter the next time I see him! And I can't even relax now because I know he could be anywhere!"

Medic settled back in his chair a little, folding his arms across his chest with an odd, amused look on his face. "You must really hate him, don't you? You can tell me, I won't say anything to him, I promise."

You sighed through your nose, unsure how to reply, "That's just it. I'm really not so sure if I do or not."

Medic looked at you skeptically, not anticipating that response, "Pardon?"

You laced your hands together in your lap, fidgeting slightly in your seat as you kept your gaze focused out the window beside you, "Well, to be fair, it's never fun to care about someone more than they care about you. Yeah, Spy can be a real creep, but it's not easy to feel unloved like that, who wouldn't feel sorry for someone in that situation. Or, like, you need to love someone enough for the both of you, I guess? I'm sorry, I'm not sure this is making much sense, is it?"

An odd look crossed Medic's face, almost one of disbelief. "Do you really feel sorry for him?"

Shrugging but maintaining eye contact, you nodded, continuing, "I mean, it's a lot of pressure to try and love someone enough to make the other person reciprocate the affection. I understand how it makes someone feel so trapped. I know it's hard, but I believe it's for the best to keep my distance. For both our sakes." As you rambled, you shifted a little in your seat. "I mean, even if it is just sex or whatever, no one likes feeling turned down or unwanted like that, you know? Maybe I don't like him personally, but I really can't help but feel for him here, you know what I mean?"

Clearing your throat and sitting up straighter in your chair, you felt a bit awkward after your little tangent, "Anyhow, all that to say, I feel bad about skipping out on him like that. I guess I'll owe him one next time I see him."

Medic's easygoing smile returned, nodding to you in understanding, "True, but you'd better be careful next time you meet him. Wait and see where all that sympathy gets you next time, whether you meet his love or hate."

"I didn't think about that. God, this sucks." You had no idea if you felt any better after getting this off your chest, but you were just about certain any chance of finishing your work tonight was out of the question. No way you could focus on all that now.

Just as you were about to get ready to depart for the evening, make some lame excuse about needing to get home urgently or something when you heard Medic's voice again, "You look tense. How about something to drink?"

You couldn't help but chuckle a little, "Is that advisable? Mixing stress and alcohol?"

Medic shrugged, not appearing to see any issue, "All in moderation."

A drink did sound like just the thing, but you had a bad feeling if you didn't leave now, you'd regret it by morning. "I'm not so sure. I have to catch the bus soon."

He brushed off your words as soon as they left your mouth, "Let me drive. I insist."

Hell, if he was so intent on something to take the edge off, you weren't about to stop him, "If you really want to…"

Needing no further incentive, he was off while you busied yourself to ensure your confidential documents were tucked away and back in your work bag. Medic returned shortly after with some kind of cocktail in a highball glass, slightly rose-colored in one hand, and a cup of black tea in the other. He handed you the one that looked like a cocktail. You accepted, raising your glass a little thanks, "To good company."

Medic tapped his cup against your glass before taking a small sip of his drink, watching you do the same. The drink was much sweeter than you were expecting; it wasn't precisely a luxury-tier location, but the flavor of your cocktail tasted particularly artificial and syrupy. Still, a free drink was a free drink, and you made sure to give thanks before trying another sip. It tasted much better on the second try, now that the sweetness didn't take you so off guard.

You closed your eyes a little, trying to decipher the taste. "What kind of flavor is in this?"

He stared at you over the rim of his teacup, "Try and guess."

Forcing another sip down your throat, you answered, "Mango?"

Medic shook his head, his eyes never once leaving you as you enjoyed the cocktail, "Not quite. Try a little more."

The more you drank, the faster it went down. It was intense; you could already tell that much, but it didn't taste like strong liquor. It was like some kind of miracle potion! "Is it grenadine?"

Medic wasn't even drinking anymore. His teacup was abandoned on the saucer while his full attention was on you. "Not that either. Take a big sip and see if that helps."

You tried to take as big of a sip as you could manage but ran out of drink before you could do so. Still, you were curious to know what was in the drink and how the flavor seemed to change and warp the longer it stayed on your tongue. "Guava?"

Medic clapped a hand on your back, pulling you into a tight hug, making your head spin slightly from the sudden movement, "You got it! How do you feel now?"

"Drink was amazing! And I, uh, I do feel a little better, thanks!"

Keeping one arm wrapped around you, he took the glass from you with his other hand, "Almost done!" He poured the last concoction you didn't even realize was left into your mouth while you swallowed obediently, feeling warm and giddy with Medic's arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you upright."

"There you are, good job!" His praise sounded eerily like what a doctor would give a 5-year-old after enduring their first shot, and weirdly, it didn't embarrass you. You were too warm and full of levity from the alcohol to care about feeling patronized.

Helping you back down to your seat, "Wait right here, I'll return the glass for you."

While he was gone, you stared blankly ahead at your screen, watching the line blink on a predominantly white Word document until Medic returned, leaning down with one hand on the back of your chair to shut the laptop. "Didn't I shut that already?" You thought before he spoke, "Ready to go?"

You knew you weren't done, but for some reason, you couldn't exactly remember what you started in the first place and didn't complain as Medic helped gather your notes and put away your device. While it was impossible to stay focused, you were still largely coherent, feeling somewhat affected by the alcohol, though not in a way familiar to you. Heavy eyelids made the world around you dark and blurry. The spinning in your head made you bob forward in your seat, unable to find your posture. The taste of sweet artificial fruit clung like a thick syrup to your tongue and in the corners of your mouth no matter how many times you swallowed. 

A fuzzy, warm feeling deep in the pit of your gut made you shift in your seat as you found it more and more difficult to mask this sudden drowsiness. Fortunately, Medic was more than happy to help you pack up the work bag you thought you already tucked away and hold the door open for you, leading you by hand to his car through the dark, hopefully not unsafe roads. 

Medic led the way effortlessly. For a split second, you were too timid to lean on him for support; you were a grown woman and had no right acting so sloppily after a single drink. But whether or not you wanted his help, by God, did you need it. And he could sense it, too. Leading you with one arm wrapped around your waist to help keep you upright while leading you to his car before helping you inside.

You sat back, your eyes drifting shut, feeling Medic leaning over you to help fasten the seat belt, and with his shoulder so close, your head tipped forward to rest against it. If Medic wanted you to stop acting so clingy, he wasn't about to say so, allowing you to keep your head resting against his shoulder as he patted the top of your head. "There you are, nice and safe." 

Just as he was about to pull away, you leaned a little harder against him, shaking your head, trying to keep him close despite your absence of communication skills. "Not home… Scared to go back-" 

Thankfully, he was close enough to understand the mumble that was your voice. Using one hand to ruffle your head playfully, "You don't have to be alone; come home with me." 

He didn't need to assure you, nor was he scared he might have to; by now, your mind was entirely overtaken by fuzzy neediness. Any concerns about trusting another person to get you home while you were already so out of it were gone. All you knew was you wanted Medic to stay, to keep you feeling safe and comfortable. As long as he was there with you, none of the potential dangers of the world outside mattered. 

Childishly, you clung to his coat with clumsy, weak fingers, keeping him close as you buried your face in his chest, "Need you- Need to be safe." It was too hard to bother with complete sentences. Not only was your mind spinning, but your tongue felt too big for your mouth, and though you could hear and understand Medic well enough, communication on your end felt impossible.

For a while, he didn't pull away; instead, he used both arms to support you in a secure hug as you remained nestled into his chest. "I've got you." 

Eventually, you managed to pull away enough to look up at him, blinking, unable to entirely focus or see him clearly with dilated eyes. "Let's go home."

But before he could pull away further, you planted a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against his lips. Instantly, you felt him returning the kiss, and he cupped your cheek with one hand to help keep your head table and deepen the kiss, giving you butterflies. His tongue slid against yours so smoothly it helped soothe your agitation and confusion over how you managed to become so sloppy over a single drink. Medic's mouth against your own made you feel like nothing but he mattered, a feeling which never once went away the drive over; even as your eyes drifted shut, that comfortable smile never went away as you replayed the kiss over and over in your head.

Never before had a ride home at night felt so intense and relaxing. Fluorescent lights passed in dull flashes, and the windshield wipers clicked to clear the rain with a soothing rhythm. No doubt if you tried to take the bus home, you'd catch more than a little unwarned attention with your loopy behavior. But none of that mattered because you weren't in a crowded bus, and you weren't going home alone; you were with Medic. Even if you couldn't see him in the dark car, the presence of another nearby soothed your worries, and made your heart throb.

Thinking about the car ride over was enough to remind you- and bring you back to the present moment, especially when the blindfold was pulled from your eyes. It didn't make much difference; the lighting was so low, and you doubted you could see your hand in front of your face. You had no idea if he could see your face either, but you smiled up at him regardless, the least you could do to thank him for all he'd done for you tonight.

But you didn't need to see an entire face when you felt your lips against yours, and you didn't need to see who the lips belonged to kiss back. One kiss on the lips became one on the neck, and you could feel hands all over your body, getting greedier, wanting to feel all of you against him. You didn't even realize he was already naked until you felt his head probing against your clit.

The sensation of hot skin grazing between your legs, preparing to align with your core, made you flinch, unable to suppress your own whining. Feeling so needy and overwhelmed was agony. Fortunately, Spy was completely sober and ready to give you precisely what you needed. As if you even deserved it after leaving him high and dry earlier- but for you alone, Spy was willing to show some mercy. 

His own raging hard-on, throbbing as his head connected with your sex made Spy sigh, watching you with half-lid eyes as he prepared himself to thrust forward. You were feeling far less coordinated, haphazardly trying to roll your hips against him, all while he remained still as a statue above, waiting for you to tire yourself out enough to let him take control. 

It's incredible how Spy didn't need to see your face or speak with you to communicate; he knew exactly what you needed. When you finally settled down enough to let him move again, Spy lowered his head to the crook of your neck, nipping at the thin skin as he fully entered your body. 

The ropes creaked lightly as your body strained to accommodate his anatomy while inundated by so many other sensations.

You were just coherent enough to say, "Feels… Feels so fucking good."

After those words left your mouth, you were uncommunicative for the rest of the night. Present, aware, and even responsive to Spy, but unable to speak. One round of sex stretched into two, or maybe more? One of your last memories of the night was the feeling of something running down your thigh and a needy kiss against your neck, which morphed into a harsh bite- but even that wasn't enough to fully awaken you. It wasn't long until your body couldn't take anymore and passed out, still fully restrained in the bed of another.

By the time Spy fully unwound the restraints from around your wrists and ankles, you were too sleepy to realize Spy was directly in front of you. Spy could feel himself swelling with pride, staring down at your helpless body curled up comfortably in his own bed, naked and spent. The effects of the MDMA and alcohol were beginning to subside; you were past your climax, and now it was time to rest. 

It was dangerous to mix drugs and alcohol. Initially, Spy told himself he was alright with doing this because, if you accidentally had a bad trip or unforeseen adverse reaction, you brought it on yourself for rejecting him. Watching you suffer was an outcome he prepared for, but seeing you unravel and completely give in to pleasure was far more rewarding.

Spy watched your breathing become heavy and slow, curling into the fetal position on your side, to drift off into a deep rest. He was pretty drained from all the excitement as well, but forced himself from the bed, switching on a lamplight as he made his way down the hall to fix himself some black tea.

Perhaps he'd regret staying awake all night in the morning, but for now he was more than happy to ride out the sweet triumph of conquest a little longer. The situation wasn't new to him. Spy was blessed with great fortune with the opposite sex, and even those who initially tried to brush him off, it was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted. Usually, not even the satisfaction of victory lasted long after the lay, but as Spy sipped his tea, watching you naked and deep asleep, he knew it'd be a shame to move on so soon. Whether it was affection or sadism that made him want to keep you to himself, Spy wasn't sure, but he knew it had been ages since he'd felt such a fondness.

It was so cute how you thought you could run away fast enough for him not to suspect you would try to brush him off earlier. Trying so hard to plan a way out from behind his back, entirely ignorant of the way his eyes followed you, reading you from a distance. You had no idea who you were dealing with, and the idea of keeping you here, showing you the extent of his depravity and an entirely new meaning of the word held Spy with wrapt interest. And he realized what a shame it would be to end all the fun tonight because you weren't awake to feel it yourself.