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tarjapearce · 5 months

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Dr. Michael Stone (Pt. 2)

Art and Character by: Spiderthingcoo on X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, forced voyeurism, body exploration, edging, double v penetration, female anatomy, rough and drugged induced sex, manhandling, substance abuse, 3some-ish, rimming (m receiving) nudity appreciation, breeding kink, a bit of dacryphilia, Objectification, overstimulation, filthyness undercut, no proofread, bit of cum play, bellybulge, electrocution, Michael is a sick fuck and I love him.

Miguelverse

Summary: Michael Stone has the time of his life.

A/N: I got too carried away and the fanart didn't help jskjs, hope you enjoy <3

Time ran at the speed of a snail. Each blink was torture, like you were removing seconds from the clock with each brief pause of your eyes.

How long have you been here? Certainly too fed up with trying in succeeding to escape. There was no punctual way to determine in which part of the day you were as there was no windows, no clocks, or anything of the sort that dictated the unstoppable force that always outlasted everything within reach.

Just dull pale grey walls, borderline white in every direction your sight stretched. Which wasn't much.

Your new habitat, was minimalistic, decored with the basics to sate physiological needs such as sleep, shower or pee. Ceiling too lowered to crawl or stretch your muscles properly when you tried to keep mobility going.

A fancy cage, nothing much, nothing less.

How long had it been since he slammed the door shut? Days? Week?

You didn't know. And the lack of a sense of time was irrevocably screwing with your head in a way it resembled how Michael had fucked your insides. There was no sun to bath in, no wind to blow and mess with your hair as you swung through the buildings, providing the right amount of adrenaline, no structures to crawl or stretch your muscles completely on. No external stimulus.Nothing.

Just a few meters of space that caged you like a live sample for a maniac's twisted experimenting and amusement. Fed and cleaned whenever you required it. It sometimes blurred the line between being a pet and a Guinea pig.

Just your cell, withering away your spirit. Even the food provided, lacked that homey seasoning you adored indulging in HQ's cafeteria after a mission. The only rift of color popping in the tray and around you were the vast array of vitamins and minerals, shaped in round and squared pills, nested within a metallic cup.

Cause according to him, if his offspring was to emerge within you, your body had to be properly nurtured. Ironically, the food was bland and tasteless, but you didn't starve. And it spooked you how easy your body took a liking to it.

Skin healthier, glowing and silky even, a soft natural flush dressed your cheeks, metabolism in its peak, a couple of pounds were lost, but that was the least of your concerns.

He was set into perfecting the vessel for his future seedling. You.

Michael was... You didn't even know where to start besides being the obvious doppelganger of Miguel. The only way you could tell them apart was because of his eyes. They were brown, like the most scrumptious shade of chocolate you've ever seen.

Unlike Miguel, he just took what he wanted and needed, everything in the name of science. He was the embodiment of 'the end justifies the means'.

Alluring, inviting you to a forbidden and fucked up world where he was the unanimous and dangerous sovereign. Like his whole aura. His impassive act was only a coy facade to hide what was underneath.

Madness, lust and something so dern you didn't want to try and decipher cause in truth, you were terrified to fuck around and find out. He had already gave you a little taste of his abyss, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you to drown in him and everything that rendered his mere existence.

He needed to crown a queen for his chaos. And what a better way to do it, than choosing you to give him a perfect offspring.

In his own twisted world the need of a superior being was a must. A need he was creating the proper foundation to sate.

He was prepping you to bare his child. And it scared you to no end. Not that you didn't want kids, but to be forced to fit into that role out of sudden scared you shitless.

And you didn't want to sour and make your thoughts awkward by knowing a variant of Miguel would be the father.

Fuck. No.

If your mind could have arms, it surely would've slapped itself for such thought. Not that you didn't think Miguel was handsome, in fact, you avoided being seen as that recruit that had the hots for the boss, lingering too much around him made you more nervous than you liked to admit.

And when you were paired with him, the anxiety of knowing you could mess up went heavenwards. Your Miguel wasn't one to dwell into conversations if they weren't necessary, canon before personal interests came first and always, awkward social skills that came out stilted and forced almost mechanically, specially when someone caught him off guard or in the high level of stress his gorgeous brain fed him on a daily basis.

Grumpy was his default emotional read, snarky or dry humored replies when dumb questions were asked, overworked to the bone. Secretly labeling himself as a bad man cause of the things he needed to do in order to keep the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse working, a walking failure through and through, weak for meeting his emotional needs and trying to be happy for once and failing at it, and apparently the only one that knew how to keep everything together.

And still, the first one that always replied the call for help by either sending a group, or creating an escape plan route to ensure your and the rest's safety with the help of Lyla.

Unlike him. The man in the flesh and bone, that would easily supplant him physically, and had been watching you ever since you awoke. You didn't have to turn to him to know his presence had invaded your already reduced and secluded space.

Brown coals raked over the slope of your neck, the dip between your shoulder and junction, gaze remained over your rising form in every disguised breath you took, hoping he'd go away. Long and tan fingers tangled softly in the silks of your hair and the touch alone made your skin crawl, and not precisely in a good and pleasant way, no.

Whenever he was around your spider senses tingled, sometimes you'd end up with a headache, unable to shut it off. You didn't have to look deep enough to know he was as messed up and unpredictable as the task he had bestowed upon you.

"Eres tan perfecta..." his impish titter made your heart wrench and anxiety to bubble in the deepest of your gut.

In other circumstances you'd be a flustered mess, flattered even to have such kind of man groveling over you. But this one in specific had you coiling away from his touch, hoping to vanish into thin air or turn invisible like Miles.

God, you really wanted to have Mile's invisibility powers right now, so at least you could have a chance to escape. But dreaming had gone out the window ever since he dumped you here.

He never lingered too much, even when he did routine checkups on you. Blood and other fluid samples were taken, he made sure you ate the bland and soggy looking food 'til nothing but crumbs were left, and then he'd leave to do whatever he did in the lab and wouldn't return until your next feeding time.

The only thing he had in common with your Miguel was the workaholic attitude. He'd spend hours if not days tinkering with canisters and things you low key feared to know their components. You've noticed the little parts of limbs floating in some recipients, none of them human.

What kind of things this Alchemax did? Cause the little you had seen so far wasn't nice nor pretty.

Alchemax took seriously their research, and with this man on charge, you didn't want to even think about what kind of ungodly horrors they harbored. There was a little slapping in the air as he removed his gloves, and it was your chance to crawl away.

Rough pads thrummed over your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, breath hitched as he beckoned your forearm, the only part of you that budged, towards him in a demanding pull.

"Haven't had the time to properly examine these." he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as his thumbs squeezed soft circles, soothing the previous pressure's discomfort.

You gulped as he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the tiny circular slits indented in your wrist, a pale pinkish hue rimmed the tiny hole. The way he admired and looked with child-like wonder at your web shooters was overwhelming.

Cheeks grew warmer as the tip of his nose ran up your forearm to finally stop on the shooters. A soft salty musk emanated from them.

"Organic webbing... Fascinating." He crooned.

He closed his eyes to relish in the smell of your skin. A shaky breath came off your lips as his moist tongue rubbed a kitten lick on it, a bolt of electricity flooded your senses and earned him a whimper. Eyes immediately shifted on you, pupils widening.

Much to your dismay both had accidentally unveiled a borderline gruesome breakthrough. The twinkle in his eyes made your brows twitch in worry. Your neck gulped and his eyes caught the fraction of movement to then smirk.

Pearly whites shone with twisted pride upon the discovery.

"W-Wait-"

The tip of his tongue pressed harder on the slit and you couldn't help but moan. A lovely and surprising melody to his keen ears at your reactions.

Web shooters were a sensitive and therefore an erogenous area.

You tried yanking your arm away, but your knees trembled when he delivered a wriggle of the tip of his tongue, trying to worm into your veins, prodding and tasting unabashedly at your dint.

With every coil of his moist muscle your brain sparked alive, neurotransmitters soaring in wicked delight. Your teeth clamped on your lower lip, stifling another upcoming moan.

The wet sounds and pops of his mouth made your insides clench involuntarily. Legs smothered together, as he now sucked. His lips pursed in that familiar shape it reminded you the way he ate your engorged and sensitive nub.

Head split in two, fighting over what side of reasoning you'd agree with. One side was ashamed such ministrations from your wretched captor turned your unwilling body like puty within seconds in his dexterous hands, and with this newfound information, his power over you just increased tenfold.

Or aghast for allowing such thing, for allowing him to cage you against the bed and his formidable frame while he devoured and toyed with your wrists, and for him to make you feel revered like no man ever had, even if it was for the wrongest of reasons. Brown eyes stared at your countenance with such curiosity and enthrall, as if you were everything he needed. Like his prayers had been answered and delivered in silver platter with you on it, right in his hands.

It didn't help your shaky resolution he squeezed and draped his other thumb in your other slit. Rubbing in lazy circles, pressing the right amount to have your clit throbbing and your mouth panting. The vibrations of his low groan on your skin sent your brain in tiny shortcuts, your synapses were howling.

A shiny streak of his saliva connected with the left wrist. The irisdiscent shine of your webs connected to his bottom lip.

"Tad salty" His tongue licked the web away, His thumb moved in a back and fro motion, alternating between circles and soft licks from his thumb pad.

"Hnng-" Your toes curled in, as your hips stuttered but he grounded his even more on yours, preventing you from shifting too much.

"Stop squirming" He huffed, annoyed, trying to focus his sight on the tiny crevice.

"F-Fucking stop then" you panted in angry breaths

Michael smirked, genuinely amused at your unexpected reaction.

"Why would I? This is the most exciting part of the research."

Shit.

He took your other wrist and kissed the dent, your eyes went shut as he pressed both wrist above your head. Thumbs kneading with a bit more of pressure right above your tiny holes. And God, it was embarrassing hearing yourself mewl like a needy bitch.

How couldn't you notice such thing about yourself after so many years of being a Spiderwoman?

Fuck

And why the fuck were you about to cum while having your wrists stimulated? But more importantly, was he really having a boner by toying with you?

"God, you're a pervert..."

You couldn't help but mumble and he pressed tighter on purpose, sending a muffled whimper through your throat, silencing your yapping.

"I rather the term, Man of science, pequeña. Now stay fucking still."

But you couldn't, not when he kneaded so closely to a spot that send your mouth gaping like a fish out of water, begging to be thrown back in the liquid oxygen. He pressed two inches away from the bitty hole, and that was it.

Jaw clenched and your spine arched. His brow quirked with clinical curiosity at your thrashing despair. Breaths paused and shallow, still deciding whether to moan or sob.

"Nmh-Fuck, fuck, oh my god-" Your eyes rolled back, and your insides clamped. Brain vaporising any coherent thought, mouth too busy catching air and sputtering dumb babble at the consuming climax. Contracting and pulsing at nothing as the little dent squirted a silky and sticky rope towards the wall with a soft Thwipsh. He blinked nearly stupidly at what he had just achieved, cracking his apathetic stare for good.

"Dios mío..." He pressed again and again and you sobbed as the web spurted hapzardly, diverting in every direction and etching to whatever surface it touched or landed. He stared with wide eyes between you and the webs. Limp limb suspended in the air.

Toes curled and clenched at the bedsheets, attempting to anchor yourself at the overwhelming sensations that clouded your judgement. Head spun and buzzed with the thrill not even you achieved when handling those annoying reminders of your solitude in your own hands.

For once your spider senses tingled deliciously. His cock twitched almost painfully at what he just witnessed, he groaned and cupped your face to deliver a deep and breathtaking kiss.

"I knew someday, all my work would be rewarded. All those sleepless nights, those sacrifices, would bring someone like you to me."

He panted, examining you with wicked excitement, shaking you softly in his aroused wake.

"You and I, will create something so beautiful even God will be jealous!."

If it wasn't for the ominous meaning behind those words, you'd be amazed and moved at his overboard thrill. He rested his head on your lower belly, a dark grin plastered over his face, fingers padded your skin, warmth spreading through his hand.

Where are you, Miguel?

"I can't wait to see you swollen, carrying the future of this earth, pequeña."

I'm scared

But as quickly as he laid down, he bolted out of your cell, too enraptured in his musings to actually care for your rattled state.

Now that his motives were clear, your need to escape was greater. But maybe if you played your cards well, you'd have a chance.

I need you.

----

The table landed on the wall, shattering in smaller shards that splintered all over the place. Michael's back rose and tensed so tight, his lab robe wrinkled, trapping the fabric in between his muscles.

The corner of his lip twitched, almost like a tick, teeth menaced with baring, fury boiling underneath his skin. If he could, the steam would blow off his ears, but instead he prowled over your unsuspecting and sleeping form in the very back of the lab. Mind assaulting his reasoning with so many questions, but one in particular made his hands to clench into tight fist.

Why weren't you pregnant?

He had came inside in your most dangerous and fertile days, and still, you weren't pregnant.

As much as he was a patient man, he was throughly disappointed at his own failure. Was his seed defective? No.

He had run studies on himself and his results were everything a desperate man in need of children could ask for.

Fertile, fruitful, healthy.

And still, the screen shone brighter on the 'Negative' results.

Hot and furious breath fanned over the glass wall where he saw you sleeping. He'd have to run even more tests on you, start all over and wait for another two weeks.

But what if your body refused him again? Your womb's rejection was an open slap on his face, when he had been nothing but kind to you. He had been taking care of you with the best things, and this is how you repaid him.

It frustrated him beyond reason. But he was a patient man. Weeks were nothing compared to all the time he had already waited. With a final huff, he returned to his lab to correct your stupid hormonal imbalance that was costing him his valuable time and resources.

However, a Public Eye officer barged in, breath in his throat. His personal hounds, and whenever they came in, it only meant one thing. They had found something, and by the scratches and claw like marks on the officer's bleeding shoulder, meant it was something good.

You had to wait for a moment longer.

-----

"Lyla"

Miguel's gruff whisper came behind the corner of the structure he was in. Lyla appeared right on his shoulder.

"Any readings?"

"Some-" She froze for a second, "Ssft-"

Her yellow shade glitched to then appear right before him, she was speaking, but Miguel could barely understand her.

Fuck.

The place's interference was messing up with her programming. His gizmo popped with a message, your location. Beeping in a bright yellow dot within the ever tall and imposing Alchemax building in the middle of the city, like a watchtower.

Your last signal. Earth S-2015.

If you were here, he was sure you'd quip up something about a movie reference, something about a Mordor, whatever the thing meant, to lighten up the mood. He'd never admit it, but it always made him a bit curious as to what you watched or did to entertain yourself. The things you spoke were beyond absurd and still, he listened, inwardly pondering as to what kind of substances your universe used to get that sort of inspiration, but now there was nothing but silence at his side. And he grew tired of it.

No matter how much he had tried to recover or track you, the signal vanished into thin air. And he wasn't happy. At first he thought the gizmo's self restart feature would bring the signal back, but days kept passing, and nothing happened, he even went to the extent of rewiring the trinket's code to see if there was anything between lines, but there was nothing after the current location he was in.

Miguel swung through the buildings, avoiding the constant and alert drones soaring through the sky. Alchemax safety propaganda was plastered all over the place, but this earth's inhabitants looked everything but happy. Unlike his wonderful and manageable utopia he had helped to improve.

Fear was forever etched in their faces, constantly moving, never lingering too much around those mean looking officers. The Public Eye.

Their image all over the city, with low key subduing messages as 'Keep The order', 'Report any anomaly in the nearest station.' It set perfectly with the gloomy, authoritarian and heavy atmosphere of this universe. Chaos brewing in the darkness, awaiting to be unleashed.

His gut felt queasy. He might not have spider senses, but intuition never failed him. And right now it was telling him to find you and get the fuck out as soon as possible. Precisely in that order. He didn't want to pull out a Miles, even if he wanted to on this wretched world. Frustrating as it was, Earth S-2015 was a necessary evil, like his ruler and his major minion.

Not that you were incapable of fending for yourself, one of the main reasons he didn't act right away, but knowing who was in this place, and the possibilities, made his chest constrict with a new wave of underlying anxiety and dread as there was no Spider in this earth to protect it.

His watch buzzed a bit too late with a new message from Lyla.

RUN!!!!

A hoard of drones shoot his way, creating a sequential line of explosions, he dodged, tore, and crashed the drones against eachother, as if they were bugs pestering him.

"Look! Another one!"

Some officers didn't wait to appear and shoot their best shots at him. They fired and Miguel fought back, talons in hands, ripping and tearing flesh.

They had taken you, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.

Mierda...

He took one officer by his neck, masked face came into view as his teeth bared.

"The other one, where is she?!" he seethed but the man was stupid enough to oppose. He thrashed, which only added gasoline to Miguel's already blazing fury. Talons dug in the man's tender flesh, but even so, the officer had managed to impale a needle on his arm. It's liquid immediately melting into Miguel's muscles.

It stung.

With a hiss, Miguel let the man go, too focused on the sudden burning sensation spreading through his arm and body like a wildfire. Breathings took a couple of seconds to turn erratic, lights flickered and dances before his eyes.

Concéntrate, mierda! (Fucking focus)

The remaining officers jumped on him, using their subduing tools on him, an electrical shock here and there, a couple of stabs that had him kneeling, punches that definitely got all air out of his scorching lungs. It hurted to breath, to move, to see. His photophobia was rampant as lights were suddenly on him.

Miguel tried to cover his eyes but punches kept coming, he lunged and swung back to nothing but air, as his faculties were in a painful sensorial overload. The last thing he could manage in between blurry and prancing lights was the officer's wicked smile, stretching. Darkness claimed him.

----

"Me estás hartando, quédate quieta de una vez!" (I'm getting tired of this, stay still!)

The lack of exercising had made you slow, he didn't give you enough time to fight back when dragging you by the ankles while you were in the best of your nap. The alerts in your body kicked a bit too late, and like he had done before, his hips grounded yours, suffocating their squirming as his hand squeezed the wrists, needle menacing on his other hand, a pinkish liquid shook within.

"Fuck you!"

With a low growl he smashed your hands against the mattress, earning him a painful yelp, and it was his chance to sink the needle on your neck, a sting that immediately stifled your body, a brief itch spreaded through before turning into a cool shot of drug.

"Don't worry... We'll get to it later. But I need your body cooperating first."

You tried batting his hands away, but he held your face, and you gulped. He was staring.

Michael Stone was staring at you.

Thrill, joy, and something eldritch within his beautiful eyes. It scared as it intrigued you.

"What did you just put in me!?"

His nose nuzzled on the crook of your neck and crooned, "Nothing you should worry about, pequeña. Just a little enhance that will take my investigation to the next level."

His nose revelled up to your neck, body shuddering with the soft kisses left imprinted on your skin. It confused you.

One moment he treated you like the best thing he had ever had, and the next he manhandled you like a rag doll, pumping whatever substances he thought right into your bloodstream.

"Ger'off me!" A backlash and he chuckled.

"You're amusing. Might keep you as a pet once my child is born." He frowned suddenly, like if an idea had came into mind, pondering.

"Or not, I could grow it on my own... But, no no. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't it?." His peering landed on your abdomen, ready to see it plump. "Call. me traditionalist in that way, but there is nothing more beautiful than seeing life growing within a perfect specimen." His eyes twinkled.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?"

"You loved having this sick fuck inside, pequeña. Your mouth might be spilling nonsense, but your cunt" He cupped it suddenly, shutting you up right away, "neither data lies."

A thick lump was swallowed down your throat.

"Rest well, I've got a surprise for you."

The smirk on his lips was everything but a good omen. And the heat increasing on your body didn't help. Hormones were slowly coming to a riot, spider tingle ringing harder for a moment.

Great.

Fingers rubbed on where he sunk the needle, wishing that for once he wouldn't use the thick ones. A tiny red smudge came into the pad of your fingertip.

Asshole.

----

Disgust, curiosity and repulsion.

Those were the main reads on Miguel's bruised face when Michael was before him, having a taste of his lips, but quickly backed up upon feeling the prong of his fangs grazing at his tongue. Miguel spat away his taste.

"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" (Fuck you, asshole)

"Oh" His smirk went wider, almost wicked. He wasted no time in securing his grip on Miguel's chin to probe and poke at his mouth, revelling at every single thing within his structure.

"This is... perfect! With you and my vessel, we'll create-"

Michael jumped backwards as Miguel tried to lunge for him, but to no avail, chains clinked on his feet and wrists, restraining him.

"Now, now. What happened to that... friendly neighborhood thing your species used to preach? Is it a ruse?"

Miguel's fury burned brighter than the sun, he was ablaze, the Ethyl Chloride still railed within his bloodstream. He'd have to wait a bit more, just a bit for it's effects to leave his system and he'd free himself.

Never in his life had the urge of hurting someone came so strong on him, but he needed to be as collected as possible if he wanted to find you.

Even if his evil twin's hand roamed over his chest, measuring and probing his physiology. What's with everyone trying to get a piece of him?

His sight landed on something that undeniably belonged to you, a piece of your suit, under a microscope. Michael followed Miguel's line of sight and smiled, naturally, proud even.

"She's been a good specimen. The best one I've got so far."

A cold shudder ran down Miguel's back, eyes immediately on him, venom dripping in his words as they came out in a growl

"What have you done?"

Michael shrugged nonchalant, pride swelling up his chest. "Nothing but my work, Mr. O'Hara. And now that I've got you, you'll help me too."

"Te juro que si has hecho algo para lastimarla-" (I swear if you've done something to hurt her)

"Oh no, no. Im not that kind of monster." Michael tinkered with some tubes as he pulled a couple strands off Miguel's head. The Boss shook his head away from his tweezers.

"But she can get annoying sometimes. Nothing that pleasure helps to shut her up"

Miguel's eyes went wide, horror and anger in tandem within his crimson gaze.

His talons poked out, itching to tear the man before him, until he was nothing but bloody chum, fuck the canon, fuck this dimension. He'd do everyone a favor, unlike the first time he broke the rules.

"But dread not. Tonight is very special" Michael smiled at Miguel, but it didn't reached his eyes. The same pink liquid he injected on you was now flowing in Miguel's veins, thanks to thw needles in his shackles.

"Mating season is around the corner , isn't it?"

Miguel scowled, wary as Michael made his arms and legs restricted to the metallic wall of his confinement, hitting his head in the process. A wave of pain invaded Miguel's skull.

"I won't hurt her, no. But I won't allow you to take her away from me."

Michael pressed a button, sending shockwaves through Miguel's body, suit glitching out, until it disappeared, leaving a bare, righteous doppelganger of himself at his feet, panting, gritting his teeth and growling in pain.

Michael leered at Miguel unabashedly, smoke oozed from his shimmery tan skin, and the madman nodded, pleased.

"You spider-folk are unique and wonderful creatures indeed."

It was the last thing Miguel heard before another electrical and unexpected shock subdued him to darkness.

----

Miguel

His mind was a puddle. Nothing coherent could properly take shape in his brain. His body was heavy, doused in a borderline painful heat, the same sort of feeling he'd get once his body entered this spider-like urge to mate.

Miguel!

The voice calling him was familiar, but it's tinge sent a delicious pulsation right to the tip of his already twitching cock.

Wake up!

Leaden-lids parted enough to take in his surroundings again, consciousness returning to his empty body. But as it did, the strong tidal waves of his arousal drowned him in.

It didn't help he kept hearing these delicious mewls and pants, begging for him to do something simple as to wake up. The constant slaps of flesh and the breathless moans made a trail of precum escape his flushed and sensitive tip. Thick veins decored his pulsating girth, aching painfully to sink in something. To be wrapped in nothing but snug zeal.

"F-Fuck... Wake up, please!"

Another garbled moan that ended in an acute whimper. And that made him growl. His toes curled in, bleary sight finally taking focus on what was going on.

He could only blink at the scene. Stupid and high in need. Dying to be free and unleash himself.

"Ohmygod-" you hiccuped, watching him, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping and panting, exhaling deep and sweet mewls his body yearned to induce

"Miguel!"

You called, waking him up despite your insides getting a good rearrangement by Michael. The latter was too keen in watching his reaction as he smacked himself against you, his cheeks reddened in want.

You were spreaded like a book ontop of the sitting madman, back colliding with his bare chest, hands cuffed within two metallic hoops, hooked behind Michael's head; cunt swallowing him inside, choking with his continuous thrustings, slapping the back of your ass over and over as his hands kept your thighs apart and close to your chest, providing Miguel with a 4K image of your bullied and glistening pussy.

The way Michael pushed in so swiftly made Miguel's cock to erupt with another pre cum bead. Your breast swayed and bounced at the rough pace settled underneath. A rhythmic slap, like a perfect metronome for an obscene and wet melody.

The little rational part of Miguel told him, demanded him to look away. To spare you some shame, but his body had been rewired in such way he was unable to tear his oggling away, cause he could feel the need to break the chains and do a better job than Michael. He'd destroy you. He needed to.

Michael's hands made you hold the back of your own thighs, so he could plow deeper. And your spine arched as your toes curled, legs shook and a sweet acute cry echoed through the lab, announcing your first orgasm.

Miguel's sore cock twitched. Begging him to jump into action. His mouth watered as your pussy swallowed Michael's cock so deep and tight that a frothy, creamy ring nested at the base of his tightened balls, contracting as the madman came inside your snug hole.

Your arousal awakened a primal need in him, to the point that his talons dug in the fat of his palm, cutting skin and bleeding, like his bottom lip. Plump mouth heaved, his throat rumbled with gutural growls the more he stared, hypnotized at your post-bliss face.

Miguel whimpered, like a kicked dog, a deep flush invading his heaving countenance.

"Seems the serum is also making effect"

Michael slicked his hair back and gave an excited sigh, "I think it's time to see his performance, right?"

Michael pushed you away from his body, Bambi-like legs failed their attempt to hold your whole frame. You fell on the ground with a wheeze. Miguel immediately lunged, but his restrains held him back, prevented him from achieving his main goal.

Crimson eyes turned darker, nearly matching Michael's. The latter pressed a button and the collar on Miguel fell with a clank on the floor.

"M-Miguel" it was difficult to find your voice when it was scrapped raw and dry, but still, you had to try.

"We... we gotta leave. Do you hear me?"

Of course he did, but his mating cycle was on peak, thanks to Michael. He had messed up the natural process by accelerating his heat prematurely.

Why would he leave when he was about to wreck you?

His feet were unlocked. You gave Michael a pleading look while trying to crawl away. When the last lock clicked free, your breath hitched.

It felt like a slow motion as you looked over your shoulders, marked with hickeys Michael left. Pupils wide blown as Miguel lurched forward, stalking and hovering over you. Cock smearing his pre cum in whatever skin it landed, marking you with his scent as he manhandled your hips up, aligning them with his girth.

His hand was big enough to keep your whole head on the floor. Michael cackled as Miguel sunk in deep in a powerful roll of his hips, earning a stuttering grunt through clenched teeth from you.

The fat of your ass trembled, your clasped hands curled underneath your torso, in dire need of holding onto something, cause Miguel merciless plows were fucking any coherent thought.

Your whole body shook underneath him, cunt ever tight, your juices and Michael's cum made him easier to delve in a pace you knew would scrap your knees, cause he wasn't stopping nor waning.

Michael circled you both, hand on his cock, stroking himself at the sheer display of primal desire. The whole show made him hard, specially when seeing your engorged clit peeking underneath Miguel's jackhammering frame, flushed from the unceasing beating the hero's balls provided it.

"Just like that" Michael husked, and whimpered as you did nothing but sputter nonsensical and lewd blabbering.

Miguel's fingertips sunk tighter as they grope your hips firmly to keep you from lurching forward, despite him plunging into you with abandonment, as if with every thrust he'd say take it.

Take it for disobeying.

Your toes curled in and your jaw slacked open, unable to keep it together.

Take it for not following instructions.

"M... Mig-"

Bendito... He was just starting and you were already clamping onto him in a grip so tight it only matched the way he was holding your beautiful and generous hips.

"You're almost there, Mr. O'Hara! Keep it going!"

One specific thrust had your eyes watering and rolling back. A pathetic and incomplete scream made Michael to kneel behind you both. His eyes were too dazed in how Miguel fucked you. Dancing up and down, like the strokes of his hands on his cock.

Miguel secured your head in a tight headlock that cut your air supply enough to clench on him, again. Strong biceps trapped your airy head, clouded with a biting desire that came stronger every time you breathed.

Michael groaned when Miguel pulled a last thrust, sheathing to the hilt, forcing a powerful and milky kiss on your cervix. The madman's mouth wasted no time to sink in between Miguel's firm glutes, tasting him, squeezing and pushing him towards his face, tongue fucking the tight hole, earning a low but stuttering growl from a surprised Miguel. Glasses fogging at the rising temperature.

"Fucking delicious." He mumbled with a smack of his lips to focus his attention in your flushed and sensitive cunt. When Miguel pulled out, Michael was already pushing him away, to then prowl at your throbbing cunt, gathering the leaking cum on his tongue, revelling in the taste as he pushed it back inside with a soft dribble.

"W-Wait" You hissed, his moist muscle had been wonderful once, but right now it felt rough. Flesh too sensitive to the touch.

Miguel staggered, body overridden with a relentless urge to be inside you again, but his body screamed for a rest, the venom still lingered on his muscles. Michael on the other hand, cradled and sunk you once more ontop of him.

"The more you take, the more chances you'll get pregnant are." He explained underneath you. Tears rolled down your flustered cheeks, overstimulated and pearled, glowy skin by the thin layer of sweat etched in every slope and dint in your body.

Michael licked them with a groan while his hips smacked yours in a slow but deep, deep rut, pulling the last coherent thoughts through muffled groans and hiccuping mewls, while you shook your head vehemently.

"You're so perfect, pequeña"

"T-Too much" you croaked

Michael sunk you in a swift move, as his slapping hips met yours upwards, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"No, no. you can. You're strong, bonita. You can take me." His crooning was eerie, yet so alluring it blurred the line between monster and devotee.

Pleasure clung to your brain with such force it was dizzying. Every pore of your body oozed with the pheromones the serum produced, creating a tantalizing smell that lured Michael and Miguel's attention.

The grumpy hero could only watch you squirm as another cock that wasn't his, wrecked your insides in a tortuous pace.

"Fuck" He grunted, feeling the consuming and mind numbing drug licking at every inch of his cinnamon skin, imploring to feel you again.

Even though the Ethyl Chloride's effect had been long gone, the serum reacted to your pheromones. Meaning he'd need to provoke one more peak to have the effects completely worn out.

He'd feel sorry and awful all he wanted later, his priority was to get you out of this madman's claws. But...

It was impossible not to think in how good you felt, how delicious your whole body contorted while witnessing the way Michael subdued you to ride him as he captured one of your nipples in his urgent mouth. Lovely and plump bumps of flesh jiggled at the tempo, outer folds that without a doubt would be so sensitive to the touch, parted and guzzled Michael's veiny cock.

Miguel crawled to you both.

How well you had taken them each., Adjusting perfectly at their sizes, like a perfect flesh sleeve.

He hovered over the both and smoothed away the strands of hair that stuck on your flushed and gorgeously fucked out face.

The heat was consuming, and Michael's pace wasn't enough. The madman noted you were reaching the peak of the serum functionality as you urged your wobbly hips clumsily on his.

Despite you not being able to properly verbalise your pleasure, you still sought it. Michael's wicked fantasies came true when Miguel pushed you tighter against him, as if wanting to flush your body and Michael's as one being, just to have a proper glimpse of the sight that had him guiding his tip towards your already stuffed entrance.

Detente (Stop)

But he couldn't, he couldn't stop himself from entering you, knees flexing as he lowered his pelvis, pushing inch my inch deeper. Earning an ascending pleasurable wail from you.

Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched, baring your teeth as he also sheathed inside, womb so full it bulged.

Michael's laugh echoed through the room. Everything had came as planned.

"Let's make you a wonderful mother, mi pequeña."

Oh my god.

A panting groan escaped as Michael moved in first, igniting the painfully delicious friction inside you. He wasn't only stimulating you, but Miguel as well. The snug crevice too tight for them to coexist in peace, yet there they were, fighting over who pulled the last peak and thread of rationality out of you.

Their cocks pumping and prodding had your spine arching. Miguel grabbed a fistful of your front strands and pulled backwards, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting your chest exposed to Michael. He wasted no time into pushing both of your breasts together, tongue alternating between the left and right.

Sucking, lapping, wriggling his hot muscle on your taut peaks, making a mess out of them by creating more hickeys in every inch of salty tasting visible skin.

"Michael!" You whimpered and it was enough for Miguel to plow harder. The sinful makeout session of their cocks inside your walls made you pant, beg and laugh like a total loon.

A streak of saliva escaped the corner of your gaping mouth. Head lolled back and fro, fried brain with the lust both men induced you, floating on cloud nine. You didn't want to come down to earth, much less when Miguel and Michael's groans and moans over you, urged you to be the best cum dumpster ever.

Miguel pulled your handcuffed hands underneath your chin, beckoning your lips to his. His mouth suffocated any future moan as you bounced on both.

Your one and only boss didn't need you wailing his name to know you ached for him. But Michael was set into having a proper taste out of you both.

He pulled you closer, pushing deeper inside you. Michael's lips erased all trace of Miguel's on yours, to then kiss Miguel. To his surprise, Miguel didn't oppose, too gone in the sensations this mass of tangled limbs offered.

Michael hands roamed your body and Miguel's, feeling his own climax approach.

Hearing Miguel's animalistic growls on your ear, made your clit throb. He pounded with every fiber of his body, urging you to reach the stars and play with them.

Your cunt soaked them, too wrecked and ruined to care. Like your mind. It didn't matter who fucked better, all your body asked was fresh cum, deep in your womb.

The serum coaxed you to move faster, almost matching the rhythm of their whomps. The sound of your greedy and drooling hole being battered was music to their ears.

Michael whimpered and his spine arched, finally reaching his peak, spurting his hot sticky scent inside. Miguel hissed and held Michael close, watching him.

Limbs nearly cramped as they curled in, hands fisted tightly on each side of his trembling body, eyes rolled back, mouth panting, head too heavy to think straight. And that's when Miguel sunk his fangs on his neck, injecting his paralyzing venom on his bloodstream.

A pornographic and slurred moan erupted from Michael, his wicked smirk widened as his body slowly but surely, lost all control of his nerves, unable to command them to move.

Miguel had to resist the urge to come inside. He knew he had a couple of minutes before Michael regained mobility, and as heavenly as you felt, he pulled out of you, drowning his orgasm with regained self control, earning a small hissing as he pulled you out too, gently, off Michael.

Legs and body refused to cooperate. With clumsy steps he stood, taunting the surfaces for support. He slanted against the table, gasping for air.

Miguel shook his head and threw a quick look to Michael, still on the floor, but now groaning in discomfort. Even his tongue had numbed out.

Miguel didn't waste time and sauntered over the next table where pieces of his gizmo laid neatly arranged in a metallic tray. He swept them all in a container, along the tubes filled with his samples.

Like Hobie, he took other parts of machinery in a quickened pace to finally grab a couple of lab robes. He wore one and covered your overworked body, to then throw you above his shoulder.

"Nos vamos." (We're leaving)

Michael groaned, loudly. Anger was felt in every gurgle his throat did. Despair widened in the only thing that still remained movable in his numb face. They darted between you and Miguel, begging him to leave you there.

He groaned again, losing sight once Miguel swung with you from a window.

"Hold on tight if you can" Miguel's voice cooed as you two escaped.

-----

Michael had to douse some pain killer spray on the two slits done in his neck.

How could he not forsee this? How could he miss something so obvious that ended up messing his one decade old plan?

He let his emotion get the best out of him, fouling up his usual calculating judgment, replacing it with excitement.

A Public Eye squad remained before him, awaiting for his orders.

"Find them. I need the woman alive, understood?"

"What about the... other one? The monster?" The same officer Miguel had sliced through and marked, spoke.

The lights in the screen gave Michael a sinister red hue on his face, light reflecting on his glasses.

"He's not a monster, Johnson." Dr. Stone smirked, copying your information in his database, "There can't be two of us."

Johnson, the captain, nodded. The squad obeyed, and the hunt was on.

Taglist: (I apologize if your blog isn't able to be tagged, tumblr is... tumblr)

@smokeywhalee @maomaimao @beingdeluluisthesolulu @byjessicalotufo @darkfairy102190 @angel-of-the-moons @bunnibitez @decaffeinatedplaidwinnersoul

@thealleydog @sariespi @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @barryatsumu @missylo @fistsuptitsup @lazy-idate @crimsonriot06-7 @uraritychain @little-lovelace @llama--drama @deathlypickles @cupidojenphrodite @@nostalgicdaira @homewreckingwreck @millliko @tatatida @melday0105 @scaryplanetdestroyer @minispidey @miranexx @migueloharacumslut @keepghostly @ion-news @misswonderfrojustice @kishimiest @prctty-birdie @migueloharacumslut @the-true-tato-god @1biggestsimpofalltime @catfwngz @drefear

#t writes✨#Michael Stone #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman

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rheya28 · 7 months

Text

Leila Square Apartment + Next Stop Cafe [ Apartment + Cafe ] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

♥ Apartment Includes:

An open concept floor plan. Kitchen with all new appliances Bathroom with shower and bath

♥ Apartment Units:

1st Floor [Unit 1: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] [Unit 2: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 2nd Floor [Unit 3: 2 Bed, 2 Bath] 3rd Floor [Unit 4: 2 Bed, 2 Bath] 4th Floor [Unit 5: 2 Bed, 2 Bath]

Note: Obviously The Cafe wont function like an actual cafe lot if this is set as a residential lot, However its can still work as a shared space/hangout area for the apartment residence when the new pack comes out! Also im sure you can still hire a barista or pretend to be as one no?

♥ Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ♥ Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ♥ Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ♥ Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ♥ Thank you to all CC Creators ♥ Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

♥ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 0:48 Speed Build 13:41 Photos

♥ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: Leila Square Apartment Lot type: Apartment Complex Lot size: 40x30 Location: Magnolia Promenade

♥ MODS

TOOL MOD by TwistedMex

♥ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make life a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, and tuds. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading !

- House of Harlix: Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Tiny Twavellers - CharlyPancakes: The lighthouse Collection, Slouch - Felix Andre: Chateau (all), Colonial pt 3, Grove (all), Kyoto pt 2, Shop the look 2, Florence pt 4, Soho (all) - The clutter cat: Dandy Diary - Harrie: Brownstone (all), Brutalist, Coastal (all), Country, Klean (all), Kwatei (all), Spoons (all), Kichen - Little Dica: H&B Store, Rise & Grind - Peacemaker: Pointless Renovation, Terra Tiles Horizontal - Pierisim (all): Coldbrew, David's Apartment, MCM, Unfold, Winter Garden, Woodland ranch, Oak house - Simplistic: Rustic rug trio - Sixam: Boho Bathroom, Stylist wood - Tuds: Beam, Cross - Syboulette: Fency

♥Tray File: x ♥Origin ID: Applez ♥Twitter: Rheya28__ ♥Tiktok: Rheya28__ ♥Patreon: Rheya28 ♥Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #showusyourbuilds #thesims #sims 4 cc #sims 4 builds #sims 4 screenshots #builds #build #simblr #the sims 4 for rent #the sims 4 apartment

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wannabe-fic-writer · 7 months

Text

Natasha x Reader : Body Heat

Summary: When a blizzard leaves you snowed in and freezing, your girlfriend comes up with a brilliant idea. Covers the ‘Ski Resort/Winter Cabin’ square of Holiday Bingo.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI - Smut, Slight Masturbation(R), Oral(R and N), Fingering(R), Face Riding(N), Tiniest smidge of overstimulation.

Word Count: 3k

* * * * * * * *

For a week you’d been cooped up in a fairly old van: driving, sleeping, and eating in it. So when Natasha told you that you’d be staying in a cabin until a new plan was made, you were more than happy.

With Ross on your asses, more like Natasha’s ass, after all the business with the Accords, you’d been running. It wasn’t exactly the life you thought you’d live with the woman but you were with her and that’s all you needed.

These last few days, things having slowed down just a little, have been a dream.

The cabin Natasha had found for you both was small but cozy. Equipped with one bedroom and bathroom, a kitchen, and living room with a fireplace, you had everything you needed.

It was clear when you arrived that it wasn’t lived in. With it being practically hidden away in the woods, the trail to it covered with the thick layer of snow, it was safe to guess no one had been here in a long time. So you had no problem making it your own… as much as you could anyway.

Resources were procured by you, along with a few things to make the space a little more homey. Natasha teased you for the fluffy blankets and pillows you bought, reminding you that you’d have to leave it all behind eventually but you didn’t care.

“For the first time since we met, we’re living together, just the two of us,” you’d said,“ I plan to make the most of it.” And you did.

Every morning, Natasha was woken up with feather light kisses on her face and a tray with breakfast and coffee on it. Throughout the day you would snuggle together on the couch, you reading a book and her pouring over documents for your next move or listening to you read. When night fell, you would light the fireplace and have dinner, ending it with her in your arms.

Sure, the threat of Ross searching for you and finding you was ever present, but things were near perfect.

Were being the key word.

Today started like all the others: breakfast in bed, an intimate but innocent shower shared with your love, and the reading of a book you like. Things took a turn around 4 in the afternoon.

A blizzard warning was given and the snow started earlier in the day. You were prepared: the heat on, supplies stocked, and coffee and cocoa on stand by, plus a large pile of firewood. A few feet of snow had blanketed the surrounding area and with the harsh weather came the shutting off of your power.

The cold didn’t hit instantly. With the heat no longer on, the freezing temperatures from outside slowly crept in.

You did what you could to fight it off: lighting the fireplace, making hot beverages, throwing on some layers, and preparing some blankets. It didn’t prove to be enough though.

The negative 6 degree weather outside took the cabin from a toasty 80 degrees to a chilling 18.

Clad in three layers of clothes: thermal underclothes, thick flannel pants and a long sleeve, plus a hoodie with a hat and gloves, you found yourself still cold. So you burrowed under three of the thickest blankets in the cabin and huddled up by the fire.

All of that and Natasha could still hear your teeth chattering from her spot on the nearby chair.

The redhead claimed to be fine, only in some jeans and one of your thick hoodies, a thin blanket tossed over her shoulders.“ I’m Russian, I don’t get cold,” she said when you offered her sanctuary in your cocoon.

You decided she could go shove her Russian pride and instead focused on not losing any limbs. But you were failing. Or at least it felt like it.

“Holy fuck!” You exclaim into the fairly quiet room. The fire was crackling and the wind was howling but no other sounds could be heard.“ How l-long is this b-blizzard g-gonna last?”

Natasha snorts out a chuckle, eyebrow quirked as she watches you shuffle ever closer to the fire.

With all the fabric you have wrapped around your person, she’s been a little leary about how close you are to the open flames.

“Till tomorrow.” She answers your very rhetorical question.

You send her a glare over your shoulder that further amuses her.

Admittedly though, not much. She doesn’t like that you seem to be suffering so greatly.

Ever since you agreed to go on the run with her, stating that her love is all you needed, she’s been more than adamant on keeping you safe and happy. Feeling like she’s failing at that right now, has her smirk falling and her brain running through solutions.

She comes up with a few but lingers on one that could be effective and fun for both of you.

“You know,” she pipes up after a moment of silence,“ the human body is about 98 degrees on average,” she mumbles, slipping onto the floor with you,“ I’m sure skin on skin contact will warm you up faster than those blankets.”

You scoff, eyes rolling.“ Did you just pull that little fact out of your ass?” You grumble, highly irritated by the cold.

She shakes her head.“ No. I just remembered it. You’d get a lot warmer if you let me hold you. All those blankets and clothes you have on just end up taking on the chill of the room.” Her shoulders shrug, green eyes watching you.

Huffing you tell her,“ you’re just saying that cause you wanna touch me.” You then bury half your face back into the blanket, noting that it is indeed a little chilled.

“What?” Her tone turns incredulous.“ Detka, your warmth is very important to me. I mean, you’re here, cold and suffering, because of me.” She pouts a little.

Looking up with a narrowed gaze, you see the sincerity in her green eyes and the doubt of her true intentions crumbles.

“I- if you think it’ll help we can give it a shot.” You speak softly, pushing the cocoon of blankets off your body.

With a cute smile, Natasha starts to pull her clothes off until she’s left in her black sports bra and matching cotton panties. You can’t help that your eyes roam over her toned stomach and long legs. Your girlfriend is hot and, even through the chattering of your teeth and shivering of your body, you can admit that.

Following suit, you pull off the layers of clothes you’d put on, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear.

Then the two of you scoot a little closer to the fire, Natasha pushing into your side, arms wrapping around you in place of the blankets as she pulls you into her body.

It’s a near instant relief. The warmth of her body surrounds you, gradually staving off the cold atmosphere. That warmth increases as her hands begin rubbing up and down your arms and over your back.

You melt into her, burying your face against her neck as you return her embrace, arms and legs wrapped around her frame.

Her ministrations continue, lulling you into a false sense of relaxation. However, the subtle trail of her hands down your back and over your ass pulls the relaxation away. The instant her fingers slip under the sides of your panties and her hands begin to knead your cheeks your entire body is keyed up.

“Tasha,” you mumble against her neck, hands squeezing her waist.

“Yes detka?” Her oh so innocent tone responds.

“What’re you doing?”

Shifting, she lowers her head and presses a kiss on your shoulder.“ I’m keeping you warm, as promised.”

The hands on your ass squeeze, then run up your sides where she allows her thumbs to slip under your bra to brush the sides of your breasts.

Every move is slow and equally deliberate. Her hands work your body in a familiar fashion, further riling you up with each drag of her fingers along your skin.

Your frustration at being cold fades into one of being incredibly turned on. The wet heat between your legs only increases, as does the desire in the pit of your stomach.

“Tasha.” You say again, this time in a much breathier, needier tone.

She pulls her lips away from your newly marked skin to look at you properly. Upon finding the darkened look in your eyes, flushed skin, and heaving chest, she couldn’t help but smirk.

In truth, she’d barely touched you. Her fingers barely grazed your most intimate parts, instead focused on heavy, intentional touches to every other part of skin.

“If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna go handle it myself and leave you to sleep on the cold hard floor by yourself.”

“But I am touching you, dorogoy.” The words roll off her tongue teasingly and you legitimately huff.

Eyebrows furrowed, nose flaring, you push away from the woman. Cold be damned, you’re much more interested in releasing the pent up feeling in your abdomen.

You wouldn’t admit it but Natasha's actions have certainly left you heated all over.

The redhead watches with rapt attention as you lay back, your hands falling to the places you had just asked her to touch. Green eyes darken further as the fingers of one hand start to tweak your nipples, coaxing them into perfect little peaks, all while your other hand slips between your spread thighs.

Arousal soaks the fabric of your panties and as you touch yourself it begins to coat your thighs. Natasha hadn’t realized how much her touch had affected you, not the full extent anyway.

It's only when you let out a breathy moan that she snaps into action. A hand pushes yours away then pulls your underwear off in one swift move.

Not a second of hesitation is present as the redhead dives in. Her tongue glides between your puffy, glistening folds and she groans against you.

You slip a hand into her hair, lightly fisting as your back arches off the ground. You’re already an absolute wreck, that feeling intensifying as her tongue dips inside you, curling just so.

When your leg hooks around her shoulder, heel pressing into her back to drive her further into you, she smirks. Deft fingers then trail up your leg, ghosting over your slick coated thighs before they tease at your sopping hole.

“Look at me, detka.” Natasha commands, head lifting.

A near annoyed sigh escapes you as you follow her instructions, eyes landing on her chin that glistens from your essence. The words you meant to speak die on your tongue, replaced by a wanton moan as she effortlessly slips her fingers into you.

The fullness they offer is an instant but brief relief that has you shuddering in her hold and Natasha revels in the way your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down your lip.

“Please, Tash,” you beg desperately. The burning feeling in your abdomen was nearing its peak but you needed-“ more. Need more, baby.”

At your words, she ducks her head back down and immediately wraps her lips around your clit. She sucks hard once, twice, then flicks her tongue over the bundle of nerves in time with the curl of her fingers and it sends you straight over the edge.

You cum with a scream of her name, heel digging into her back further as pleasure ripples over your body.

Natasha can’t help but to grip your thighs as they quake beside her head, hips canting up to ride out your orgasm. The taste of you bursts across her tongue and she can’t help but lap up every drop, retracting her fingers so she can shove her tongue into the source of the flavor.

As her ministrations continue, you’re tipped over the edge again, flying head first into a second orgasm. But she refuses to let up, drinking from you like a woman dying of thirst. While her tongue on you had previously felt amazing, the faintly familiar shift from pleasure to pain becomes present and you tiredly wiggle away from her.

Taking the nonverbal cue, she pulls away, licking you from her lips and sitting up on her knees. The pride she already held swells as she takes in the visual result of her actions: your thighs shaking, chest heaving, tits lightly bouncing with each quake of your body.

Her hands take a soothing approach as you come down, softly trailing up and down your legs then up your abdomen to softly squeeze your tits.“ You okay, moya lyubov?”

“Yup,” you hum with a blissfully tired smile on your lips.“ Nearly perfect.”

“Nearly huh?” She quirks a brow, leaning over you to be in your line of sight.“ What do I have to do to lose that nearly?” Leaning down, she presses lingering kisses on your neck.

Hands landing on her hips, you lean up to her ear, running your tongue over the shell of it before whispering,“ come ride my face.”

She damn near snaps her head away from you, eyebrows raised into her hairline.“ Really?” There’s a giddy sparkle in her eyes, accompanied by dilated pupils.

You’re both very well aware of how much Natasha loves riding your face. Not only does she love having your mouth on her, she also loves seeing and feeling you underneath her, able to see your expression as you taste and take her.

A nod is your simple confirmation.“ Let me taste you, baby.” Your hands shift up to the curve of her ass, pulling to urge her forward.“ And those pretty thighs of yours will keep me plenty warm.”

Needing no further encouragement, the ex-assassin stands and rids herself of her underwear. When her panties hit the ground beside you, you notice that they’re much like yours had been, soaked through from her arousal and that makes you even more eager to taste her.

She lowers herself onto her knees, both either side of you as her pussy hovers over you. You lick your lips in a fashion she’s seen plenty of times before, often when your favorite meal is placed in front of you, and pleasure spikes her core.

Your soft, scarred hands find her thighs and you pull her down onto your face with no resistance from her.

Instantly your senses are flooded by Natasha. Sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing, all at once.

She feels soft, even the raised skin from her battle scars are soft under your fingertips. She smells incredible and the second your tongue runs between her puffy pussy lips you can say the same about her taste. And her moans, her sweet, sinful moans, practically bounce off the walls.

You know, just from the way her slick transfers from her thighs to your cheeks, that she’s very much riled up. You also know that after she’s gone down on you that it doesn’t take much to get her to the edge and over. Still, you put in maximum effort.

Hands grip her thighs with near bruising force as you slip your tongue inside her, tasting every drop of her sweetness before pulling out so you can wrap your lips around her bundle of nerves.

While she loves the hold you have on her, two thoughts enter her mind simultaneously, leading to her taking your hands from her thighs and guiding them to her tits. She squeezes your hands which in turn squeeze her tits as she then begins to ride your face, as asked.

Her hips start a rhythm, pussy grinding on your mouth with each roll. She tosses her head back, moaning your name in a heavenly tone.“ Flatten your tongue, detka.” She instructs and who are you not to listen.

The new sensation sends her reeling and her hips stutter as the first sign of her impending orgasm. She doubles her efforts and you do too, now pinching and pulling on her nipples as she grinds faster.

The stimulation of both pleasure points is her undoing. If not for your steadying hands to keep her upright, she would’ve fallen face first into the ground as her eyes fell shut and her limbs practically went limp.

Using the majority of your strength, you slide Natasha down your body until her legs are on either side of you, then you guide her head to rest on your chest.

“I got you, baby.” You assure her, eliciting her to tiredly wrap her arms around your form, snuggling closer to you.

A comfortable silence settles around you two. The crackling of the fire and howling of the wind no longer irritates you, instead it facilitates the overall vibe of the moment.

Despite the layer of sweat on your heated bodies, you pull one of the blankets up over you to stave off the cold that will inevitably return.

When you’re completely calmed and Natasha’s breathing has evened out, her mind and body equally relaxed given the gentle strokes of your fingers up and down her spine, you teasingly speak,“ I knew you were just being horny.”

“True,” she mumbles after giggling,“ but it worked didn’t it?”

“I-” your words fail you as it’s really quite obvious she was right.“ Oh shut up, Romanoff.” You emphasize with a poke to her side which, in her unguarded state, causes her to jerk into you and let out an adorable laugh.

She whacks your chest, then softly kisses it.“ Really though, thank you for sticking with me. I know this situation is far from ideal,” her voice trails off before she adds,“ and far from our dream.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Tash.” Curling a finger under her chin, you tilt her chin up to catch her gaze.“ Being with you will always make me the happiest person in the world, no matter our circumstances. And I know this won’t last forever. In no time we’ll be living our dream. Just gotta get through the hard parts first.”

Her head shakes as she smiles.“ I love you so goddamn much, Y/n.”

“Not as much as I love you, Natasha.”

After a sweet kiss, you cuddle back up together, holding each other tight. In her arms, surrounded by her warmth and love, the sound of the howling wind fades into nothing as you fall into a peaceful slumber.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @alotofpockets @storiesofsvu

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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lululandd · 22 days

Text

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary:

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray.

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.”

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance.

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?”

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat.

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing.

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.”

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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queen-of-deans-booty · 5 months

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What A Romantic Night

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Jensen x wife reader? Where the reader is wearing red lipstick and when Jensen came home from filming she put kisses in all Jensen body. Something fluff and romantic

Summary: You plan a romantic night in for you and Jensen.

Square Filled: storm for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The storm outside rages with lightning flashing every two minutes and thunder booming every ten minutes. Your husband is expected to come home any minute now but you worry about him driving in the conditions outside. He is a very good driver but water on the road and lightning in the air is no joke no matter how experienced you are.

Jensen has been working hard on his new show, Big Sky, and you’re so proud of him. He’s been putting in extra hours with the rest of the cast to get more filming done so they can get ahead of schedule, so you want to do something special for him.

You get dressed up in your sexiest outfit, there are two dozen fake candles spread across the living room, you’ve made his favorite dinner, there is soft music playing over the radio, and you made sure to paint your lips a deep red. That’s his favorite color on you so you make sure to incorporate that into tonight’s date.

Jensen finally gets home ten minutes later and shakes the water off his umbrella before walking into the house.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” He sets his keys on the small table by the door, hangs his jacket on the rack, and kicks off his shoes. “Y/N?” He walks into the living room to see the masterpiece you put together. He sees you in your sexy outfit and groans. “Baby, did you do all of this for me?”

“All for you,” you grin.

You saunter up to his side and he grips your hips not tightly but not gently, either. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him with fresh lipstick on you but he doesn’t seem to mind if he gets some on his own lips.

“You got lipstick on your lips,” you giggle.

“I don’t care.”

He leans in again and kisses you for longer this time. You wish you could take him to bed had you not spent so much time on dinner. You pull away from him and wipe his lips to get rid of some of the red stain.

“Come on, the food is getting cold.”

You bring him to the couch and start to enjoy the dinner you cooked.

“This is amazing. You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?”

“I guess you played your cards right,” you shrug with a smile.

The meal was delicious and there is room for dessert which you have planned. You get up and take the empty plates from the table.

“Stay right there. I have dessert.” You take out the chocolate-covered strawberry and whipped cream. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

“You take my breath away.”

You set the tray on the table and hand him the bottle of cream. He shakes it and squirts some on your exposed neck. He leans in and licks the side of your neck, gathering the sweet treat with him. He sucks your skin into his mouth and you roll your head back with a moan. To have some fun, you pull away from him and take out the same red lipstick that’s on your lips. You put a fresh layer on and kiss his cheek, leaving a print behind.

You do it again to his other cheek before letting yourself loose. You press red kisses to his chest, collarbone, his neck, and his face. He laughs and lets you do your thing because you two are going to take a shower together much, much later.

“I love you,” he pulls you close.

“I love you more.”

Jensen stands up and scoops you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Not possible.”

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fiction #jensen ackles fan fiction #jensen ackles fan fic #jensen ackles fluff #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months

Text

WTH House. This is the most bizarre conversion I've ever seen. It's a 1910 former school that was later used as a Levi jeans factory in the 60s. The current owners turned it into a home in New Market, Alabama. 6bds, 4ba, $915K. You gotta see this one.

The entry hall still looks like a long school house layout.

And, this is the sitting room

Pay special attention to the fireplaces. The firebox on this one looks like the entrance to another dimension. Where did they get such fancy carved mantels?

The dining room. With the checkered floors, it kind of gives Alice in Wonderland vibes.

Somebody had a vision when converting this house. Total elegance.

Look at the mural in the kitchen. It looks like they spent a lot of money on this conversion. The exhaust hood is so high and open. I wouldn't want to climb up there and reach inside for the filter.

The marble floors in this home. Here's another sitting room with niches for life size statues, stained glass windows, a tray ceiling painted with clouds and an ornately carved fireplace.

I've never seen fireplaces with high hearths and an opening in the middle like this.

Interesting bathroom. What is that tarnished bowl on the floor?

The halls are definitely long school halls.

This room is like an office.

Is that a fish tank in the fireplace? I don't understand the loose stones scattered on the floor.

Large marble shower with a vintage corner china cabinet.

Interesting bedroom setup.

Looks like the primary bedroom.

I thought that this was a guest house.

But, it's just one big room.

This is just weird.

Very large porch with Greek columns, and a path to a round patio with an elaborate fountain.

Statuary and murky water dot the property.

A lacy gazebo.

More statuary.

There's a lot of land- the lot is 5 acres.

#WTH house #school conversion #ornate decor #unique homes #unusual homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

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Stand By Me: Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore @kmc1989 @somethingdarkside17 @noonee333

References to the travel journal in All The Places That You’ve Been

Takes place before Whereever You Go

The first time you hear Terry play piano is in a suite in Prague. You’re watching the snowfall over the city as the flames roar in the fireplace. You’re clad in one of his sweaters and a pair of his socks, your damp hair pulled back into messy bun from the shower you’d taken together.

It’s been a while since he’s played not since he was last in LA, six months ago. He’d intended to be back in the US before December but instead he’s brought you to Prague instead so you can experience Christmas in Europe. You’ve spent a wonderful few days there exploring the Christmas markets, walking through Old Town Square to see the Christmas tree and touring the different nativity scenes that the churches had set up in their alcoves. You’d been enchanted by their beauty, and Terry, he had been enchanted by you.

You’d spent Christmas morning making love, Terry’s lips chasing all over your body, your fingers in his hair. You’d fallen asleep tangled up in one another, your head tucked under his chin as he held you close. He’d woken several hours later to the scent of freshly brewed coffee brought to him on a tray, along with a neatly wrapped gift.

“It seems so small compared to everything you’ve given me.” You tell him, an embarrassed flush creeping across your cheeks as he delicately unties the bow. You’ve put a lot of time and effort into making it look pretty for him, so he treats it with the care it deserves.

“It’s perfect my love.” He smiles as his fingertips had trailed over the A5 leather brown travel journal.

It must have cost you a lot of money, he knows you don’t have much. You were an artist in residence when he met you, your work has sold on the open market but still your careful with your finances. A gift like this is an extravagance that you’d struggle to afford. You have no idea just how much the gesture means to him.

He spends the afternoon writing in it, scribbling notes and drawing pictures. It becomes a checklist of sorts, a record of the places he wants to take you.

Kyoto, Bali, Santorini…

The list seems endless.

It’s only afterwards when you’re dozing in his lap, his fingertips combing through your hair as he watches It’s A Wonderful Life that he realises he’s planning a life with you.

He thinks about that now as his fingers seek out the keys on the piano, it takes him a while to find his rhythm but when he does, the music it starts to flow. He closes his eyes and he finds himself playing the notes to Ben E. King’s Stand By Me.

It seems fitting in a way, that he’s playing a love song. For the first time in his life he finally understands the depth of that emotion, the essence of it.

It isn’t until your hip bumps against his that he realises you’re sitting on the piano bench alongside of him. He opens his eyes and tilts his head towards you and you smile that sweet smile as you tell him how beautifully he plays.

“I’m rusty.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your temple before he turns his attention back to the keys.

Your head comes to rest on his shoulder and Terry smiles to himself because these are the moment’s he lives for, the ones he thought he’d never get to have.

Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #cobra kai

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

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The Breaking Point

This fic is a sequel to To Be His Good Girl

Edit: I've removed my SPN kink Event bingo card, because I was reminded that Soldier Boy isn't part of SPN. 🤦‍♀️ The story hasn't changed at all.

Summary: Y/N has been acting up for days, and she won't explain herself to Ben. He may just reach his breaking point.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Pretty filthy smut. BDSM. Dom/sub. Dom Ben (Soldier Boy). Sub Reader. Disobedient Reader. Crying Reader. Lots of talk of punishments and discipline. Spanking. Paddling. Pussy Spanking. Mentions of Caning (breasts). Slight Bondage. Intense pain as pleasure dynamics. Light Fingering mentioned. Sir!kink.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 3,925

A/N: Okay, so "To Be His Good Girl" was supposed to be a one and done fic. However, I've had a few requests to carry on the story, and then I found the above bingo card, and I thought it fit into Ben and Y/N's story pretty well. There is a third part to this little story. It's called, "When is it Enough?" and it will be out on Wednesday, January 10. It will fill my BDSM square for the above card. Hope you enjoy, and I know this story won't be for everyone, so PLEASE heed the warnings. ❤️

The dividers used here are created by @silkholland

Y/N and Ben moved in together not long after her first round of discipline. They spent a lot of time in the first month testing boundaries, pushing Y/N’s limits of what she could take. Ben was amazed by her constantly. They had regular discipline sessions, where he would test her and push her to see if she would continue to obey him no matter what, and she almost always did. When she failed his tests, she took her punishments well. Even if she was being punished for purposely acting bratty, which had only happened a handful of times - mostly just to get a rise out of him - she quickly became remorseful when he corrected her behavior.

Their discipline sessions had never failed to leave both of them sated and happy.

Then one random Tuesday, four months into living together, Ben came home to find Y/N completely withdrawn. He thought maybe she was just hormonal, as women tended to be once a month, and he let the attitude slide for a day or so. When she didn’t improve, he threatened her, promising her if she didn’t smarten up, he’d make sure she couldn’t sit down for a week. The effectiveness of the threat barely lasted the day however, and by the next morning, she was back to grouching and sulking around the apartment.

Ben awoke that morning as he felt her shifting out of his arms and getting up. Then he heard her growl angrily as she stubbed her toe on the bedside table. “Piece of shit.” She grumbled to herself as she fell back to the mattress she’d just risen from. He reached out to rub her back but she stood up again, pulling away.

“Hey.” Ben said, voice still croaky with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N just shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just running late.” She told him, and she rushed out of their room to shower.

When she came back to the room, wrapped in a towel, Ben was gone, and she sat at her vanity and brushed her wet hair, shivering as cold droplets of water dripped from the ends. She glanced in the mirror and then quickly away. She didn’t really want to look at herself at the moment.

Ben came back into the room with a tray of delicious smelling food. Y/N frowned. “You cooked?”

He snorted at the ridiculous question. “Of course not, I got the doorman to order us breakfast from Santino’s.”

Y/N nodded, but her frown stayed in place. “You know, that’s not really his job.” She said, voice chiding.

Ben looked at her for a minute. “Well I tipped him a hundred dollar bill, so I don’t think he minded.” He shook his head. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been in this mood for days and I’m getting fucking sick of it.”

Y/N shrugged and mumbled. “Sorry.”

Ben set down the tray and caught her wrist as she stood up from the bench. “No, I mean it now, seriously Y/N, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I told you. Jesus, just fucking drop it.” She barked at him.

Ben’s scowl darkened and he quickly sat down on the bench she’d just vacated, yanking her across his lap. He pushed her towel up so her bare ass was exposed, swiftly cracking his palm down onto her damp skin.

Y/N screeched and fought against his hold. But he subdued her easily and delivered five more blows. “Explain your attitude right now.” He demanded.

Y/N sniffled. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m just…I've just been sleeping badly.”

Ben turned her in his arms so he was cradling her. “Yeah, I noticed. What’s causing the bad sleep?”

Y/N just shrugged and wiped her nose. “I dunno.” She said in a small voice.

Ben knew she was lying, but she looked up at him with her big, sad eyes. “I’m really sorry, B-, I mean, sir. I’ll behave myself, I promise.”

He knew he was being too soft with her; the attitude she’d been giving him for days now demanded punishment. But he found himself reluctant. He knew she was hiding something from him. She’d been fine on Tuesday morning when he left for the Tower - her usual sweet, bubbly, occasionally precocious self - but when he returned that evening she’d been moody and closed off.

This brief spanking was the only consequence he’d doled out so far even though she’d been snapping at him and unresponsive for days. He contemplated flipping her back over and continuing the spanking, but her jutting bottom lip and watery eyes worked far too well on him and he sighed and stood her up beside the bench.

“Get into bed, eat some food, and then get some more sleep.” He ordered.

“Yes, sir.” She said, obeying reluctantly.

But over the next two days nothing really improved. She wasn’t snapping at him as often, but she was still quiet and subdued. Ben tried a few times to distract her, kissing her and touching her gently, but though she never denied him, her responses were far from passionate and Ben wasn’t about to force her to sleep with him.

Finally, nearly a week after her moodiness had begun, she pushed Ben a step too far, and he realized he had no choice but to take action, for her sake.

They were eating dinner and Y/N started to pour a cup of coffee to have with dessert. But Ben stopped her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be drinking coffee so late in the evening. You’re having a hard enough time sleeping as it is.”

She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” She said as she poured herself a cup from the carafe on the table.

“Y/N, I said no.” His voice was firm, but she just ignored him and took a deep gulp of coffee.

He grabbed onto her wrist to stop her drinking more. “Did you hear me?”

Y/N yanked her arm out of his grasp, her face thunderous, temper ignited. “I heard you, but why do you fucking care?” Y/N screeched. She threw the cup of hot coffee at him and it smashed against the arm he held up in front of his face just in time.

As he lowered his arm he saw Y/N’s jaw drop, almost as though she was unable to believe what she’d just done. “Ben, oh god, I don’t…” She trailed off, her hands covering her mouth.

Ben brushed away the chips of pottery that clung to his shirt from the smashed mug. His voice was ice when he spoke.

“Get into that fucking bedroom, and get into position. Right fucking now.”

“Ben -”

“Now!” He bellowed and Y/N bolted out of the room.

Ben bent to pick up all the broken pieces of the cup and sank into his chair. He shook his head; she’d left him no choice.

***

Y/N sat on her knees in her bra and panties, head bowed, waiting for Ben to come dole out punishment. She knew she deserved whatever she got. She couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to correct her behavior. She knew she was being insufferable and incredibly disobedient. But she couldn’t pull herself out of this place she’d sunk after the phone call on Tuesday morning.

Ben walked in and Y/N’s breathing picked up. He came to stand directly in front of her but she kept her head lowered until he spoke.

“Look at me.”

Y/N looked up and the unrelenting anger on his face made her shiver. He was dressed in his green super suit as he always was when he was disciplining her.

“Obviously,” he started, “I’ve been far too lenient with you this week. I was hoping that little spanking the other day would be enough to straighten you out, but I was very wrong. So now…it’s clearly time for something more severe.”

He walked away but Y/N didn’t let her eyes follow him, dropping her gaze back to the ground. She could hear him moving things around in their closet and knew he was digging out the instruments of her punishment. She heard the snap of a leather belt and closed her eyes.

After five minutes of silence Ben returned to stand in front of her and tilted her chin up so she was looking at him again. “My over-the-knee spanking clearly wasn’t enough to set you straight, so I’ll have to try a little harder.”

He snapped his fingers and she knew that was her cue to stand. “Bend over the end of the desk, arms out to the sides. Hold on.”

Y/N did as she was told. From behind her, Ben continued explaining.

“I’m going to spank you in three different ways. There's power in threes, it really drives home a point. First, I'll use a wooden paddle on your ass. Then, my leather belt on your pussy, and lastly, a cane to your tits.”

Y/N felt her breath kick up and fear lodge in her throat.

“You will receive a total of sixty strokes. Thirty with the paddle, twenty with the belt, and ten with the cane.”

Y/N’s stomach flip-flopped. “Sir, please…” she began, but Ben cut her off.

“And since you seem to enjoy quiet so much this week, you will take every single stroke without making a sound.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder, “Sir I-”

“Starting this second!” Ben barked out, immediately silencing her. “Face front.” He ordered and she swung her head back to face the door of the bedroom.

“I mean it, you disobedient little brat. I don’t want to hear a single word from you, not a whimper. If you cry, you'll do so silently.” He leaned close to her ear and growled his warning. “You disobey me again and you will regret it. Do you understand? You may speak to answer.”

“Yes, sir.” Y/N said, almost breathless.

“What will be the one exception to my rule of silence?”

“Belgium.” Y/N answered in a whisper, stating her safe word.

“That’s right.”

He straightened up and moved away to get the paddle. “Now, you’ve been paddled once before,” he said from across the room, “that time you came home late and didn’t call. But that was only ten strokes. No doubt, this will make a bigger impression.”

She heard him move into position behind her and then heard the familiar sound of the heavy wooden board whistling through the air before landing with a hard thwack on her ass; her white cotton panties offered very little protection and she bit down on her lip to stop from crying out.

“One.” Ben counted.

Once again the paddle whooshed through the air before it smacked hard against her ass, the sound of pine hitting skin reaching her ears just before the burning pain spread out across her ass cheeks.

“Two.”

And on he continued, spreading the blows across her whole ass, along with a few to the very tops of her thighs.

After the fifteenth blow, Ben stepped back and admired the red he could see blooming just under the bottom of her panties. The red of the spanking contrasted with the white cotton very nicely.

After giving her ass a moment’s break Ben gave his order. “Take your panties down. Leave them just at the top of your thighs.” He instructed not wanting to lose the pretty color contrast.

Y/N shifted painfully and pushed at her panties until they were down over her ass and framing her cheeks.

When he started in again Ben targeted the thickest part of her ass, just above her thighs. He maneuvered the paddle in an upswing and landed an incredibly stinging blow, making her flesh jiggle.

“Sixteen.”

After twenty strokes, the heat was radiating off of her ass like an oven. The apples of her ass cheeks were stained purple and red, thick welts decorating her soft skin. Ben could see her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

But he hardened his resolve and delivered the last ten strokes, the impact so hard that he raised her feet off the ground with every blow.

“Thirty.” He said as the last one landed. He moved away to set down the paddle and then came back to rub his hands across her bruised and battered ass.

“All of this could have been avoided, kitten, we could have been having a much more pleasant evening if you hadn't decided to act like such an unbearable brat all fucking week.”

Y/N nodded, remaining silent, and Ben sighed. “Stand up. Pull up your panties.”

She obeyed and when she moved to face him, Ben saw the pain that spasmed across her face and he wiped away some of the tears that still fell. “That’s gonna hurt a long time, baby. You’re probably gonna wear this lesson on your skin for a week or more.”

Y/N lowered her gaze and Ben recognized her look of true contrition. He tipped her chin up. “You may speak. Tell me what’s going on in your head. Why are you being so disrespectful?”

But though she had permission, she remained silent, merely shrugging and shaking her head.

Ben sighed again, more frustrated than ever. He shook his head and spoke with firm resolve. “Okay, you need more pain to remind you who you answer to, I guess.” He pointed angrily at the bed. “Lay down flat on your back, with your ass at the very foot of the bed.”

Y/N complied immediately. When she was laying flat, grimacing from the pain of the pressure on her abused ass, Ben approached, holding a rope, and grabbed her right ankle. He raised it high in the air and spread it out wide, strapping it to the bedpost tightly. He repeated the action with her left leg so she was stretched wide open, her cunt on full display.

Ben moved to the table where Y/N could now see he had his implements laid out. He picked up a particularly thick leather belt and brought it over to where she lay.

“Okay, kitten, same rules. Keep your mouth shut, or you’ll regret it. Belgium is there for you to use, always.”

Y/N nodded and closed her eyes, biting her lip. She’d had her pussy whipped a few times, but it was never more than a few strokes and even then the pain had been incredibly intense. At least these strokes weren’t going directly onto her clit.

But as Ben brought the leather down to crack against the incredibly delicate skin of her pussy, it didn't feel like much of a difference. She raised her hips off the bed in an instinctive need to get rid of the sting. Again her thin cotton panties were no barrier as Ben rained fire down onto her cunt.

“One.” He stated in a firm voice and Y/N wanted to weep at the idea of starting the pain over at one.

As Ben continued the punishment at a slow but steady pace, Y/N considered using her word and making him stop so she could spill her heart out to him, and try to make sense of the pain that had been sitting in her gut for a week, pain that stung almost as much as the blows landing on her skin.

But she was ashamed, she felt worthless, and she realized in that moment that she’d been egging Ben on all week, practically begging to be punished. She wanted to feel this pain, she couldn’t articulate her other pain, but this she could understand. She knew how to take this - this pain obscured the rest.

“Ten.” Ben called out with the latest blow. She knew what was coming before it happened as he set down the belt beside her head. He grabbed hold of her panties and shredded them as he ripped them from her body.

He looked down and clicked his tongue. “Jesus Christ, baby.” He pushed a finger through the dripping slick that glistened on her reddened pussy lips. “This is a punishment. You are not supposed to be getting off on it.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. She couldn’t help the way her body responded to Ben’s punishments. The pain never failed to blossom into heat that swept through her whole body and made her pussy weep.

Ben tutted again before picking up the belt to continue. The next blow landed on her bare pussy and the agonizing, fiery sting made her bite her lip till it bled to stop from making a noise.

“Eleven.”

By the time he reached nineteen, Y/N had also curled her hands into such tight fists that there were crescent moons cut into her palms from her fingernails. And then he brought down the last stroke and it landed so hard that a short squeal burst out of Y/N's throat despite everything she was doing to keep silent.

Ben dropped his arm to his side and Y/N could hear the actual disappointment in his voice when he spoke; it made her want to cry.

“You are just determined to disobey me over and over. I thought you were my good girl. What's happened to my good girl, huh?”

Y/N pushed up on her elbows so she could see Ben's face. She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“Speak.” Ben said briskly.

“I didn't mean to sir. I'm so sorry. I'm trying to be your good girl. Please don’t hate me too.”

The words just slipped out of her and she hadn’t even known they were there.

Ben’s face darkened. “What are you talking about?” He asked. “Who said anything about hating you? I’m just disappointed. Disappointed that you’ve been disobeying me over and over, and yes, angry at your disrespect.”

He ran a soothing hand over her raw pussy, pushing his middle finger into her slick folds to tease her clit. Y/N gasped and then met Ben’s gaze and saw the truth in his bright, beautiful green eyes as he spoke.

“But Y/N, I discipline you because I care about you, so that you know I care about what we mean to each other, about our roles in this relationship. I punish you because I care about how you conduct yourself. And sometimes I discipline you with pain because I know you crave it, crave the release of it.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she realized just how right he was. She had been craving the release of pain, the release of the pain that sat unmoving in her heart. All week since the phone call with her father she’d been down, heartbroken and feeling worthless.

It had been almost a year since she’d spoken to him. He’d made it clear a long time ago that he thought she was just a pathetic loser, and he was ashamed of her. But she’d called to tell him that she was dating THE Soldier Boy, that they lived together in a fancy apartment and she was spoiled and cared for. She thought it might make him see her as valuable - the fact that someone important wanted her.

Instead he’d told her he wasn’t interested in hearing about her whoring ways, that he didn’t want to know what rich old man was acting as her sugar daddy. He’d called her disgusting and an embarrassment. He told her he didn’t want her associating with his new family, he didn’t want his children soiled by her.

The words had sunk deep into her skin and had been cutting her ever since.

Now, as she laid there, exposed and completely vulnerable, in the most visceral and literal way possible, she began to confess everything. Ben quickly untied her legs from the bedposts so he could sit beside her and pull her into his lap. She told him everything, whispering her father’s cruel words, embarrassed by how true they felt.

When she fell silent, Ben shook his head. “Y/N why wouldn’t you tell me this earlier? I would have handled your punishment very differently.”

She shook her head. “No, I wanted to be punished. I deserve it.”

Ben kissed her forehead. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t have punished you. You disobeyed me all week and refused to let me into your problems, you do deserve to be disciplined. But I told you, I would have done it differently.”

Y/N sniffed. “How?”

Ben smiled. “I would have taken you over my knee again. I would have held you close to me and reminded you over and over that I’m only punishing you because I know how special you are, because I know what a good girl you can be. I would have made sure you know that if I didn’t care about you,” he paused and then pressed a brief kiss to her lips, “if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t discipline you, I wouldn’t care enough to.”

He wiped away her tears. “And I would have made you come on my fingers between punishments to make sure you know that even though you might deserve to be punished sometimes, you definitely deserve to be pleasured all the time.”

Y/N’s tears ran unchecked once again as Ben continued. “Instead I was disciplining you harshly because I didn’t know what was causing your terrible behavior and I needed you to know I wouldn’t stand for it endlessly. I gave you so many chances this week, why didn’t you reach out to me?”

Y/N shrugged. “I was embarrassed. I was afraid that…” She buried her face in his chest, the material of his suit rough against her cheeks. “I was afraid you’d hear his words and think he was right.”

Ben huffed. “Ridiculous.”

“And,” Y/N continued, “and honestly I just couldn’t understand how I was feeling to even try to explain. Part of me wanted to not care about him, and part of me wanted to crawl into a ball and cry forever. So,” she shrugged again, “I just acted out.”

Ben sighed and then kissed the top of her head. “Well, I’d say your discipline has been severe enough. That can be all for tonight.”

But to his surprise Y/N shook her head. “No, don’t…you set out a punishment, I shouldn’t get out of it just cause I cried and finally told the truth. You taught me that. Once a punishment is set, it needs to be seen through, no matter how sorry I get after.”

Ben frowned. “But Y/N, I told you, if I’d known the truth, I would have disciplined you a lot less harshly.”

“But you only didn’t know the truth because I kept it from you.” When Ben opened his mouth to argue again, Y/N interrupted him. “Please, Sir.” She said in a whisper. “I need the pain. And I need you to…to show me you care enough to correct me when I do wrong.” She shrugged. “I also made a noise when it was forbidden to do so, so I need to be punished for that too.”

She looked up at him and her eyes were misty. “Let me show you that I can be your good girl again.”

Ben took a deep breath and nodded, pride shining in his eyes. “Then get down on your knees, kitten, and show me how good you are.”

Jensen:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@akshi8278

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

Any/All:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@eevvvaa

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#soldier boy smut #spnkinkbingo #spnkinkevents #soldier boy x reader #ben x reader #bd/sm kink #dom/sub #heed the warnings

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simstorian-blog · 7 months

Text

Dusty Turf

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Parched Prospect

Lot Size: 30 x 20

(3-bedroom, 2 Bathroom)

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Used

Cottage Living

Desert Luxe Kit

Dream Home Decorator

Eco Lifestyle

Get Famous

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

Island Living

Laundry Day Stuff

Outdoor Retreat

Spa Day

Wedding Stories

Build Mode

AnneSimmer – Wall Mural Pt. 1

Felixandre – London (Chandelier, Panelling)

Felixandre – Grove Pt. (Plaster Floor)

Harlix – Bafroom (Mirrors, Windows)

Harlix – Harluxe (Used Throughout)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 1 (Column)

Harlix – Tiny Twavellers (Mural Wall)

Harrie – Kwatei Pt. 1 (Doors, Windows)

Max20 – Polished Sandstone Trim

Peacemaker – Curly Koa Flooring

Peacemaker – Simple Siding

SimPlistic – Leafy Wallpaper

Sooky – Victorian Floor Tiles

Buy Mode

Anye – Cal Magazine

Anye – Neomy Table Lamp

Anye – Zara Bathrobe

Awingedllama – Apartment Therapy (Rug)

Awingedllama – Boho Living (Cement Planter)

Awingedllama – Blooming Plants

BlueTeas – Rivers Bedroom (Base, Headboard)

CharlyPancakes – Lavish (Shopping Bag)

ClutterCat – BusyBee Pt. 2 (FlatBox)

ClutterCat – Cozy Casita (Candle)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Pt.1 (Leather Tray)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Bathroom

Dereon – Silver Lining Stool (DL Available via Patreon)

Felixandre – Chateau Pt. 4 (Square Container)

Felixandre – Colonial Pt. 3 (Parasol)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 3 (Luggage)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 4

Felixandre – Grove Pt. 2 (Stacked Plates)

Felixandre – Paris Pt. 3 (Pouffe)

Felixandre – Shop The Look 1 (Side Table)

GreenLlamas – Kerv Inkblot Rug

Harlix – Baysic (Bedding, Hanging Clothes, Packs System)

Harlix – Baysic Bathroom (Toilet)

Harlix – Kichen (All glasses)

Harlix – Livin’ Rum (Tv, Bowl, Vase)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 2 (Vase)

Harrie – Octave Pt. 4 (Light Switch)

Joyce – Simple Live #5 (Separate Towel)

LeafMotif – House & Garden Covers

LittlBowBub – Home Barista

Littledica – Delicious Kitchen (Paper Towel)

Littledica – Rise & Grind (Flavour Syrup)

Madlen – Dionis Ottoman

MyCupofCC – ColourTalk (Mirror)

Myshunosun – Gale Dining (Cart, Wine Bottle, Wine Glass)

NoStyle – Mara Living Chair

Peacemaker – Ellipse Armchair

Peacemaker – Mid-Century Abode (Bedframe)

Peacemaker – Oasis Chic Living (Cordyline)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 2 (Account Book)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 4 (Zucchini Chopping Board)

Pierisim – Living Room Mini (Citrus Bowl)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 2 (Rug)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 3 (Metal Sconce, Soap)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 5 (Table Lamp)

Pierisim – Oak House Pt. 4 (Shower)

Pierisim – Vera Bathroom (Mounted Hook, Robes, Soap)

Ravasheen – Hot Sim Disguise Clutter (Tray)

RusticSims – Kind of Modular (Books, Coffee Table)

RusticSims – Lofi Pt. 1 (All Lighting)

Severinka – Aura Ottoman

Sundays – Duvet

Sundays – Kediri Pt. 1 + 2 (Sofa, Throw Pillows)

Sundays – Kuta Pt. 1 (Dining Table)

Sundays – Pandawa Pt. 3 (Pouf)

Sundays – Sumba Pt. 1 (Pillows)

Sundays – Swell Pt. 1 (Bolster Pillow)

Sundays – Ungasan Pt. 2 (Slippers)

Sundays – Yarra Pt. 3 (Bed Pillows)

Syboubou – Caroline Shower Rug

Tuds – Ind 02 (Wine Rack)

Winner9 – Malibu Pillow

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: Download

#simstorian #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #cc #ts4 simblr #build #sims 4 build #oasis springs #mid centruy modern #vintage glamour #retro #modern

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honeeslust · 7 months

Text

Reanimated : Dawn of a new day

🖤 MANGA READERS, SPOILER ALERT!!

🖤 I was not going to complete this let along post. By my crew stay hyping each other up so here goes.

🖤 I’m sorry but it’s starting out hella angsty and slow but I promise it’ll be worth it

🖤WC just under 3k

You hurled yourself toward the calamity. Pushing off with everything in you to reach him. You came upon his broken body, his lower half severed and you dropped to your knees when the lifelessness in his eyes punched you squarely in the gut, knocking the wind from your lungs. This wasn’t real. You pushed your ear against his chest, hoping to find the beautiful rhythm that should’ve been there. Instead it was cold. Instead it was silent. This is NOT real. You’re fine, you’ll heal. Each breath you drew in was agonizing. You repeated it. You’re fine. You’ll heal. An inferno burned a hole into your heart. The tears you hadn’t known were there fell into his face. Your angel's sweet face, void of any life. The burning reached your throat and you lay your sorrowed head upon his chest once more. Willing all of your power to do you this one courtesy, even if it would overtake you. You lie there upon him. You're fine....you listen. The energy you summon, dissipates, with nowhere to go, no life force to cling to. You'll heal… you wait.

…

You put him back together and began what would be months of attempts to restore his life. But there was only letdown after letdown. As disappointing as every failed attempt had been, you weren't able to look past the way you still felt him everywhere and in everything you did. You knew there was something you were missing. It wasn’t until that day. you were home, in the bed you once shared, clutching the Lapis Lazuli heart shaped gem to your chest as your tears soaked the pillow. You brought the stone to your tear soaked lips and placed a sorrowful kiss to the edge and whispered Satoru, where are you? In that moment you were struck with a familiar notion. Something he had told you when he gave you that necklace. It played in your head like you were hearing him say it for the first time. You’ll always have a part of me, as long as you keep this with you. Your chilled body trembles as his words resonate, sparking you to see what you had been missing.

…

After months of storing up your cursed energy. Along with what remained of his contained in the gem, it was finally time to reanimate him. You placed the stone upon his chest. Closing your eyes hoping against hope that this would bring him back to you, you began to chant the incantation. You repeat the words, imbuing each syllable with your power, focusing on the energy that flowed from within.

You open your eyes to be met with his cold body remaining as it were. Taking an exasperated breath, you silence your mind and begin again, only to be met with the same disappointment each and every time you were to lay eyes upon his stil frozen form.

You kept this up for hours but there was only so much time before he’d begin to decompose. Feeling lower than low, you enclose your fingers around the pendant once more. Releasing a heavy breath, your heart beat stuck in your throat, you stifle the sob threatening to erupt from your chest as it heaved heavily in distress.

Storu, I can feel you everywhere, please please please. Come back to me. Again you repeat the words, holding your breath as you open your eyes. And then, for only an instant, there was a twitch. You froze as if any movement on your part would interrupt whatever current had finally flowed into him.

You waited and waited. And still. Nothing. Your nails etched the icy steel slab he lay upon. Fuck. You hissed, the tears rolling angrily and hot down your face. Fuck fuck fuck. You slam your fist into the table, the metal warping around your knuckles. Shoving his tray back into the wall. You storm out of the lab.

Later in the shower, you’re angrily stripping from your medical dress and hurling yourself into a scalding shower. With no one around to hear, your anguished cries rang out into the lonely home you once shared. Despair was a brick in your stomach that you couldn’t dislodge now matter how much you howled and cursed everything in existence. You accepted that he wasn’t coming back. You accepted you’d never be whole again. You accepted that your every happiness would always lie in being in his arms and to never know that feeling again, you would never be you again.

By the time you dragged yourself from the floor of the now cold shower, it had already been hours since your last attempt at easing the dead. You carried on, lying on the floor of your closet, wrapped in his jacket, his sweater in hand, clenching to it for life as you inhaled what remained of his scent. It wasn’t too long before your wails seemed to echo through the walls of your lonely home. But then, there was a tapping sound, a sound as if someone were rapping against metal. You sat up, straining to catch every distant echo in the silence.

And there it was again. Clamoring to your feet, you ran as fast as you could. Down the hall and forcing open the doors with a forceful blast. Looking around you first noticed the room, not as you left it, the latch to his chamber was open, the slab vacant of his body. Your heart erupted into manic spattering as you twirled, hurling your line of sight in every direction as you looked for any sign of him.

And then you felt it, the prickly sensation on the back of your neck. It was him. You turned. Eyes wide open with bewilderment. You forced yourself to blink. After every sleepless night and every hurtful awakening to a world where he simply didn’t exist, you were stuck silent and still. Reaching for him you stopped short of a hair, scared that if you actually touched him, he’d evaporate on the spot.

Your fingertips touched his skin. he was icy, shaking even. Following your hand up and along his arm, you trailed it down his strong chest. Amazed that you could feel flesh flourished with life. You will yourself to look at his face, your breath catching when it was met with his icy blue eyes. Storu. You started, stepping a bit closer. Storu , you’re awake you said hoping to hear him answer but he doesn’t. He only looks down at the hands you had pressed to his chest. Storu, can you hear me? Nothing. Storu it’s me do you recognize me? His brow curls questionably. You know me, don't you?

He reached for you, the icy glow of his bottomless ocean eyes reaching deeper into than they ever had before. His hand lands weakly on your shoulder as he steps to you, his pulse building even faster than your own as the realization sets in for you both. Just as he were to speak, his immense frame collapsed forward, your body taking on his weight as he fell unconscious and into your arms. You held him close, tearfully pleading for him to stay with you and you went to your knees. When you lay him down he finally glanced up at you from your lap, the smile on his eyes calming you as your fingers sifted through his silvery soft hair. You knew he had returned to you.

…

After that day, you adjusted to this new version of Satoru. It was like watching an alien trying to adjust to being a human. And everything you did was fascinating to him. Like he was learning you. But as much as you looked into his eyes reminiscing on what was, he only seemed to look back at you with such faint familiarity. He couldn't speak. Only managing a simple nod for yes and shaking his head for no.

Most days, he kept right at your side, following you around like a floppy eared little puppy. only it was a 6 foot 3 Angel eyed gant who watched your every move and always seemed to be reaching after you. It was like he couldn't stand not to have you by his side. It was always cute to you and you would take his big hands into your own, hands to yourself Satoru, you’ll get a headache if you don’t wear that, remember?, you smiled trying to let him down gently so you could get on with your work. He pulls the blindfold from his eyes and as his hands are after you again.

This time when you tried pushing his hands off of your waist, he only held tighter. A glimmer of something else in his eye when he pulled you closer to him, his wide eyes imploring you to stay. Your cheeks burned. It was your Satoru giving you that same mesmerizing look after all. He reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb affectionately grazes the corner of your mouth. His lips part and his voice croaks out, so sweet.

Before you could respond, he cupped your face in his hands, the words coming together to fall upon your lips, his own following just after as he pressed a clumsy sweet kiss to your mouth. A moment passed. Satoru, you breathed before kissing him back.

It could've just been muscle memory but you swore the way his hands found their way around your ass and squeezed appreciatively, that he knew his way around your body. He proved it to you, taking you up into his arms and knocking everything to the floor to make room for your body. He placed you atop the table forcing you to lie back with an indelicate shove, his slender waist being hugged by your thighs while his hand bagan to squeeze and prod every familiar curve of you.

His touch was almost speculative, his eyes always looking to yours as he dragged his lips along your inner thigh, his jagged breath so warm you felt the heat through your jeans. He seemed so pleased when you writhed and moaned, every nerve ending in your body so sensitive as it had been forever since you felt his touch. His hand moved up the center of your chest, coming to rest over your throat. He cocked his head, seemingly intrigued by the way your breath faltered when he squeezed gently. Storu, you gasped, Can you remember the way I felt. He nods. Show me.

If you were a stronger woman, you would've stopped him there, but his touch was too good not to enjoy. Especially now that he assumed what was once his favorite task, peeling your body out of your tight jeans and eyeing you like he would devour you. His eyes fixed on you, he trails his curious tongue along the inside of your thigh, leaving you to shudder from head to toe. He does it again, dragging the reddened tip along your skin until you were a trembling mess burning with need for more of him.

Show me what you remember , you pleaded desperate for more of his inquisitive touch. His lithe fingers slipped your panties to the side, and he buried his face between your legs, his mouth hot on your aching sex as he took his first taste. Your toes curled as he dragged his slippery pallet through the plush wet folds just the way he remembered doing so many times.

As he circled the tender bit that was screaming for his attention, your hand covered your mouth and you squeezed your thighs around his head, overly susceptible to each and every slow lick he placed to either side of the vibrating bundle of nerves.

This time when you met his eyes, they were dark, almost greedy. He pulled your hand away from your mouth, shaking his head as if he didn't want you hiding the sounds you were making for him. His palms were hot against your thighs as he spread then wide again.

Normally he'd be praising you, how sweet you are pretty baby and just so wet for me pretty girl. But this time it was his appreciative moans into your pussy as he savored the taste of you. You clawed at his hands that kept your pretty kitty spread wide for him. This was him in essence. Drunk off what he could do to you. Sucking that fat wet clit between his rosy lips and grinning ear to ear when your hips arched toward him as you came harder and harder into his awaiting mouth.

When he finished sucking up every last drop he arose, your slick essence still hot on his lips when he kissed you. Your hands tugged at the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down to reveal that heavy cock. It sprung up excitedly like it was happy to see you and immediately you were falling to your knees.

You kissed the blushing tip with eager lips leaving the honored one to shudder. You took him into your mouth, his length immediately making you gag as you sucked down his shaft. You bobbed and rolled your neck, working every mouth-watering inch pridefully as he palmed the back of your head and his hearty groans drove you to suffocate yourself with it.

He flinches like it’s the first time he’s feeling your throat enclosed around him. He pushes himself as far as he can go and his breathily little whines had you looking up at him as you devoured that dick that you missed so much. Your tongue massages that luscious vein as it twitches and his hot cum unloads, coating the back of your throat. You left him dazed and confused, shaking as you pulled his sweats down. You get them around his ankles, and help him stumble out of them.

A mute Satoru isn’t something you're used to. But the innocent look in his eye when stroking his half hard length until it was hot and throbbing in your palm once more, you lay back with your legs wide, inviting him in. You became ravenous. Come here, I need to feel you Satoru. You know what to do right? You asked, tucking you rosened lip between your teeth. He nodded, and it had you chilled from head to toe.

His hands slipped down your thighs as he aligned himself with your writhing form. He lay that heavy cock on your pussy, awe-ful eyes gleaming at you as he nudged the tip against your cunt that was literally grabbing for him. His blushing peak dove inside, making you moan his name and tears instantly welled in your eyes. But you couldn’t look away, he moved, so fucking slow you thought you’d die if he didn’t fuck you hard on the spot. Ohh fuck, all the way Storu. You hissed, hooking your leg around him. He shook his head, his mouth agape and he began to swirl his finger over your clit. Your body arched as he toyed with you like this until you were clawing at his arms trying to pull him in deeper.

He grinned, grabbing you by your neck effectively pausing your little tantrum and causing countelss butterflies to stir in your stomach. He filled you up as slowly as he wanted. This was him doing what he’d always done best. Tease you until you are desperate. He held your neck and he held your leg, keeping them spread apart so he could see how you welcomed every velvety inch with a gush of wetness already seeping out of your needy little cunt.

He bottomed out with a satisfied groan. Mmm ohh my fucking god I needed you so bad fuck. Please fuck me. Again he was shaking his head, his hips drawing back slow so he could watch himself spreading you open all over again. You were taking him so well that he had to move now. Satoru's lean frame was decorated with beads of sweat, the scars adorning his body only making him look even more delectable than he already was. He gripped your neck tighter, leaning over to kiss the drool that poured from your mouth as it hung open. You found your own little piece of heaven as the honored one's cock made a home in your guts.

My —sweet he whispers, his tongue curling around your lip when he squeezes your throat. Your body is bouncing underneath him now, his fingers fumbling at your tits as watches the way your impending release makes your eyes wide and starry. You nails cut into the harsh metal slab he fucked you on. Your stomach caved as you gummy walls clamped down tight around his engorged length that was getting ready to detonate into you. gunna make me c cum Storu, to this he nods, standing on his toes as he stroked every rigid inch of his cock with your cushy embrace. He shuddered, his hands finding a place around your hips so he could rag doll you. Fucking you off the table until you were running.

Your teeth gnashed as he folded you on your side, his thick bicep encasing your thighs as he plowed into you. Imma come for you . He tried to make the words but all he could manage was the most delectable guttural soul pleasing moans into your ear.

Absolutely dickmatized, your breath caught in your chest and every muscle in your body contracted as the heat between your legs spasmed around his dick. He himself couldn’t help but let go. He was In your ear again, mmm sweet sweet, so sweet he breathed as he leaned into you, forcing you to take all of him and his honored elixir. You were damn near fused to him, nothing between skin but sweat and elation. And you found yourself floating among the stars when you looked into his impossibly blue eyes again. You couldn’t believe it. But you actually raised the dead

From the main honey pot 🍯

Thanks for the encouragemennt @biscuitsngravie- thanks for helping with the title @callm3senpaii @i-literally-cant-with-this @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Note

Lloyd can cum anywhere in my body but spatially on my face i dunno just want to share it

I am so stressed, I definitely need a facial. 😜

Also, someone mentioned reader in Zero Day being like a maid and how Lloyd would get off. So, separate from that fic, I’ve gone off and written about maid!reader and Lloyd for this one.

The Help

Warnings: noncon, blowjob, facial, mentions of blood and implied violence.

Even though it's a drabble, I do appreciate any comments and feedback you have. Thanks for reading!

🚿🚿🚿

Meticulous. One of the many words you could describe Lloyd with, of the litany you will never say to his face. All you ever utter to him is “yes, sir.”

He barely notices you as you go about your work. You are inferior. A man like him doesn’t acknowledge the staff. You’re the help, you’re nothing.

It’s best to know your place with a man like him. To know that you don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t ask questions ever. Just do the job you’re given and ask if he needs anything else. Usually he does, often he enjoys seeing how much he can get of a person. Not just you, but the equally dubious figures he hosts.

The metallic smell of blood lingers in the room, a pool on the carpet, crimson and wet. The body’s gone, that’s not your job. You don’t even clean up the blood, no, that’s for the men in hazmat suits. They’ll be there soon.

No, you’re there to bring him his scotch. You set the tray down, the crystal decanter refracting the light, and the short tumblr clinking as you ignore the spattered mess across your boss’ face. You don’t let your gaze linger, that’s an invitation for trouble.

“Mr. Hansen,” you fold your hands behind you and lower your chin, “anything else, sir?”

He gives a long heave. He sits forward and uncaps the square topper from the decanter and pours himself a drink. Blood streaks up his forearm, staining the leather band of his watch. He’s unbothered by the mess.

He inhales the scent of the scotch before he gulps, a drawn out ‘ahhhh’ as he puts it back down. You’ll never be used to the grotesque scenes he leaves behind but you just have to hold your breath until he dismisses you. Then you can tuck it away with all the rest.

“I’ll need a shower,” he says as his finger runs along the rim of the glass. You can hear the adrenaline fiery in his tone. “Turn down the bed for now.”

“Sir,” you nod.

He hums. He’s done with you. You leave him, gripping your wrist to keep from shaking. You shut the door after you, softly, and set out to make sure his bed is made before he can catch up to you. He’s most dangerous after the kill, you’ve seen it before.

In the year since you started there, you’ve seen a dozen other maids come and go, not all in the same shape they started in. They were the curious, the vocal, the impetuous. You learn from their mistakes.

The bed’s made already. You know that. You did it yourself that morning. There’s a new trainee but you don’t let her into the master bedroom. She’s not ready for that, so she’s with Elaine, working in the kitchen.

You check the en suite bathroom quickly. It’s clean but not for long. You flit from the room and go back to the library to resume the dusting that kept you busy before you were called away.

You’re almost done and you’ll be free to spend the rest of the evening in your room, nestled in the house reserved for the help along the west flank of the property. The place is archaic, somewhat antiquated, but Lloyd sees himself as the king and expects to be treated as such.

When you’re content with your task, you retract the handle of the duster and let yourself out into the hall. One of his men is there, all in black, gun at his hip. Another thing you’ll never be acquainted to.

“You,” the man, Marco or something, greets, “he wants you.”

“Sir?” you ask curiously.

“The boss needs his shower cleaned. Now.”

“Sir,” you acquiesce easily.

He says nothing else and marches off to go about his patrol. A kingdom better deemed a compound. You go to put away the duster downstairs and pass Elaine and the trainee, Camila, her face streaked with tears. You don’t ask but they tell.

“She’s learning,” Elaine rubs her back soothingly, “you know how Mr. Hansen is.” You confirm this with another short nod. That doesn’t bode well. “You know how to handle him,” she says, no doubt skirting that task herself.

You depart as Camila sniffles. You don’t know how to handle him, you only know how to keep your mouth shut. You sigh and grab the bucket, sponge and cleaner, gloves as well.

You knock at his door. You hear the whistle, his usual demeaning response. Not even words, like a dog, he calls you in. You enter and once more take your stance, legs together, arms behind you, “sir?”

He stands in a towel, nothing else. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him so… bare but it doesn’t bother him. He is a man without shame.

“Shower,” he says curtly.

Another formal affirmation and you go into the open bathroom. Steam dissipates as you enter and focus on your task. Gloves on, hot water to form bubbles in the tile cleaner, sponge sucking up the foam, slapping to the porcelain as you work on your knees.

You scrub up the wall and the glass door of the booth. You slide it open as you finish and stand to dump the bucket in the drain. Your tights are soaked at the knees, the strict uniform of your position not entirely practical. You don’t notice him until you start rinsing away the last of the residue.

“I like you on your knees,” he tilts his head, hand resting on his hip just above the towel.

“Sir,” you crank off the tap and step out of the shower with the bucket.

He doesn’t move, watching you as he nurses another glass of scotch, “so?”

You look at him as you place the bucket on the edge of the counter. You peel off the gloves and drop them inside with the sponge.

“All clean, Mr. Hansen.”

“Not what I’m asking,” he scoffs, fingers brushing along the top of the towel, “you gonna be good? Get back on your knees for me?”

Your heart stops. Or it feels like it. The air stills and suffocates you. You’ve heard the stories of the other maids, touching, pinches, but they giggle about it. Gossip in a gaggle.

“I–” you meet his eye. Your first mistake. He tugs the towel and let’s it drop.

“I what?” he prompts, “hm? No ‘yes, sir’? ‘Certainly, Mr. Hansen’.” He steps inside and puts the glass down on the shelf mounted to the wall, “‘whatever you want, boss’.”

Your mouth falls open as you’re not sure what to say or do. He’s blocking your only way out, not that you thought you’d get far. Not from him.

“You’re halfway there,” he grips himself, stroking as you keep your eyes above his waist, his shoulder betraying his motion, chest tensing as he grits his teeth, “right there, baby.”

He points before you as he nears. You don’t understand. You’re good. You keep your head down, mouth shut, eyes averted. You don’t stand out, you don’t want to. You want to do your job and send the money back to your family.

“As long as you’ve been here, I’ve never once repeated myself,” he warns as he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him, “we gonna change that?”

You grasp his wrist as you squeak. You try to nod but can’t. He’s too strong. You slide your foot back slowly as he lets up. You let yourself down to one knee then slip the other down beneath you. You stare up at him, too nervous to look down.

“I’ve been waiting for you to crack,” his hand snakes around the back of your head, pulling you closer as he pushes his tip against your lower lip, “about time, buttercup.”

He presses against your lips. You tense your jaw then force your teeth apart. Your eyes roll back as you close them and surrender to him. Better to get it over with.

Humiliation chokes you as he slides across your tongue and hits the back of your throat. Impatient, he jams himself deeper and you gag, the leather toes of your shoes squeaking on the tile. He tries to sink past your reflex as you squeeze his wrist.

He snarls as he pulls back, thrusting harder and further. Your throat constricts as he forces himself down to his limit. Your eyes well and leak as his intrusion burns. He angles your head up as he bends his knees, moving you up and down his dick, using you like a toy.

Your nails dig into his flesh, a hard tendon beneath the skin as he grunts and bobs you along his length. The thickness strangles you, gulping, gasping, slobbery breaths with each retreat only to be smothered again. You’re dizzy from his assault as you slap a hand to his thigh.

He stills you and grips your head with both hands. He fucks your face furiously as your face slicks with your spit and tears. You can’t stop him, you don’t dare. You’re shaking as he dips down, over and over, the schlock of your throat adding to the disgust brewing in your gut.

“That’s it, buttercup, you’re such a good girl aren’t you, huh? ‘Oh, Mr. Hansen, I love swallowing your cock, please can I have more,’” he taunts as your lips meet his pelvis over and over, “‘please, sir, I love it. Please… please…” he pants around his mocking words, “‘please cum on my face, Mr. Hansen.’”

He pushes you off of him and you fall back on your heels, coughing as he cradles his sack and hisses, squeezing just beneath his tip. You wipe your puffy lips with the back of your hand as you look up at him tearfully.

“Say it.”

You stare dumbly.

“Say it, bitch, before I fucking blow.”

You shudder and suck in breath, rasping as you gather your voice, “please… cum on my face, Mr. Hansen.”

He snickers and strokes himself as he latches onto you once more, grabbing the collar of your dress, “smile for me, buttercup.” Your lips quiver but won’t obey. He growls and pulls his hand from his dick to slap your cheek, “don’t make me say it again.”

Your lips tremble as you smile, sniffling as you bat your lashes to keep from breaking into sobs. He pumps his hand up and down his dick as his breath turns shallow. He twists the fabric in his fist and jerks you closer, pressing his tip to your lips.

He groans as he cums, strings lacing up your nose and across your cheeks as his motion turns erratic. You feel him spill up to your forehead and down to your chin, coaxing himself through his climax and smearing it with his swollen head as it relents.

He lets his dick bob away from your face and rubs his thumb through a ribbon of his cum, pushing it down to your lips and poking inside.

“Hm, say ‘thank you, Mr. Hansen’,” he smirks as he wipes his cum on your tongue and retracts his hand.

You pout up at him and catch your breath, “thank you, Mr. Hansen.”

He chuckles and rolls his shoulders as he turns to scoop up his towel, “I thought you’re supposed to clean up messes… not make them.”

#lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #the gray man #ask drabble

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