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sehtoast · 6 months ago

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Tender Threads CH4 (Homelander x OC)

chapter four: the new you

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: time to look the part, little spider. out with the old, in with the new.

With every job comes the good and the bad. Up until now, it had been mostly… fine? Not awful by any stretch, but Benjamin hasn’t had much to complain about. Again, until now.

He’s been in this office for hours. Fucking hours. One would think Stillwell would’ve at least warned him that the two men prattling off marketing and merchandising concepts never took a breath between their eight trillion sentences, but no.

Not even a smidge.

Good ol’ Seth and Evan…

Benjamin finally snaps back to attention when the topic shifts for the umpteenth time, though not by the grace of a whiteboard eraser wiping away sloppy diagrams and stick figures. This time the two jump halfway across the room to a sheeted mannequin that has been begging to be unveiled the entire time.

“And so, obviously, we were thinking that it was time for a fresh image! Something flashy, something… you.” Seth– or was it Evan– says with a child-like giddiness.

“The pros in the design department worked overtime for this one. You’ll love it!” Evan– or… Seth, perhaps, chips in, just as eager as his hive-mind counterpart.

“What’s wrong with my suit now?” Ben asks, voice scratchy from how long he’s sat in silence. And why the fuck do you guys alternate sentences like that… eesh.

But there was no reason not to anticipate this. In fact, the bug could practically smack himself upside the head for not even entertaining the idea. He was a product now… and he had to remember that. They’ll change everything about him to better fit their image. Well, everything he hadn’t been able to protect under his contract.

“Spider-Man,” rings that mother-knows-best voice the bug has come to know all too well. “There’s nothing wrong with your current,” she pauses for a moment, pursing her lips as if thinking of a way to call him shabby without being too backhanded. “Homemade suit.”

Yeah… still backhanded.

“We just think you’re deserving of something a little more… special. After all, you’re in The Seven now. You deserve to look the part. Have all the toys, and so on. Who doesn’t like an upgrade?”

“And just wait til you see what we’ve got for you!” Says one of the duo. The pair take their spot on either side of the mannequin and grab a handful of the cover.

Please don’t suck. Please, please don’t suck.

Ben’s mind runs to the worst ideas possible. What if they changed his colors? What if they pull some bullshit with the mask and it’ll only conceal his face partially? That’s in the contract– they fucking know better– what if–

The sheet is ripped away faster than he can process it.

This suit of his… It’s always been Benjamin’s second skin. His armor against the world. Silly as it was, his suit was a part of him. An identity, perhaps.

And now a new one stares back at him almost as if it yearns to be chosen. This new skin, this new him.

Ben rises slowly from the couch to circle it, inspecting every little detail. The subtle things. The not so subtle things…

The spider emblem had been enlarged, nearly as long as the whole torso. The legs cut off where red once met blue– now black– on the sides. An interesting color choice, and one probably meant to ensure his scheme wasn’t too similar to Homelander’s. Gray accent lines run through the blackened sections in intricate patterns, weaving a hexagonal texture.

Ben reaches out to touch it despite his own gloves shielding him from sensation.

The new suit’s webbing textures are raised slightly from the body, and the sections are larger too. It’s less… cluttered this way. Undeniably easier on the eyes. His hand slides up to the shoulders where the signature Vought V logo is stamped in a white, leather-like material. Sure to never fade and certainly never go unnoticed.

Down the arms, paper thin lines of dark red dance sporadically, damn near indistinguishable from the black of the suit. An oddity catches the bug’s attention.

The same V shape on the shoulders is at the wrists, right where his webs emerge, almost as if to function as funnels. Something to spare him the design flaw of the unsightly holes in his current suit.

Rounded, friendlier looking lenses stare into his very soul.

He can hear the sound of those two yammering on about… something, but he doesn’t process a word of it.

This is him now. It’s like an energy emanates from it, begging for a symbiotic relationship. Benjamin feeds the image and, in return, the image feeds him security.

Whether or not he’ll feel… whole like this remains to be seen, but… it could’ve been so much worse.

“Well,” Stillwell says abruptly. “It won’t put itself on. Bathroom’s right there.”

Ben steps back as Seth and Evan strip the suit away from the mannequin, all but force it into his hands, and shuffle him into the bathroom. Hell, they even shut the door behind him as a courtesy.

The process of stripping is still its old painful self. Indentations of seams on skin, elastic marks, and especially that flattened mask-hair Ben always dreads. And what a wreck he is in the mirror. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, uneven scruff on his jaw that he definitely needed to shave at least two days ago, anxiety-bitten lips…

Christ, man. Look at you…

But it’s not like he could blame himself. Between the daily antics of settling in at Vought and being the same ol’ hero at night– which had been strongly discouraged, by the way– Benjamin hasn’t had any time to take care of himself, nor sleep more than the odd half hour here or there.

Is that a fucking pimple?? Eughh…. Wash your as soon as you’re home. Hell, do it now.

He lets the tap warm up a bit before scrubbing frantically at his face, only half tempted to use whatever antibacterial gunk Stillwell kept in her private bathroom. At least the water wakes him up a little.

The new suit comes with its own challenges, but is somehow easier to put on. The material quality is leagues better and it allows for stretching much more willingly. In fact, it’s damn near completely comfortable… breathable, even.

The back zipper though… That one would be Benjamin’s enemy until the day he either died or hung up the spandex.

The mask takes him by surprise when he lifts it. It has an odd weight to it, not necessarily heavy but definitely not what a mask should weigh. He flips it inside out and the culprit is a solution to all of his woes.

Gone are the days of a face shell to make him look a little less ridiculous and keep dental work off his list of injury expenses, now replaced by– judging by pressing his thumbs– thin padding liners full of some variety of what he assumed to be oobleck. Solid when force was applied, soft when left to settle. They hit all the sweet spots, too. Jaw, cheekbones, temples…

One last look in the mirror, and he slips it on.

“What the fu–”

Ben stumbles backward a bit as load screens and transparent windows stack upon one another in his field of view. Welcome messages, tutorial pop ups– the whole nine yards. His eyes rake frantically through everything, trying to peer past the overload. He swats his arms as if to smack the windows away, but they go nowhere.

He shuts his eyes tight, sighing with deep frustration. One more fucking headache…

That seems to have disappeared the second he reopens them.

Huh…

And then he does a double take. Just as his brows were, his lenses were arched. The bug leans over the vanity and gets damn near nose to nose with himself, wiggling his eyebrows, widening and squinting his eyes, watching with fascination and disdain at his now emotive lenses.

He groans.

No more making bitchy faces behind the mask, huh?

Gone were the days where he could roll his eyes and hide his flippant reactions behind the mask. That’s probably exactly why Vought would spend god only knows how much money developing tech like this. Marketing likely decided he needed to be personable, not just another blank face like Noir.

When he finally gets the gumption to exit the bathroom, the two are all but biting at his ankles. “How is it?” They ask in their nearly creepy unison.

“It’s uh…” Ben starts, wondering exactly what the decorum rules were for conveying a complaint. “About halfway up my ass.” Not a lie. “Can we adjust that later or–”

“Absolutely not!” Chirps one of the two. “Polls show the ladies love a man in tights, and you’re sure to see an uptick in approval if you flaunt what you’ve got!”

Christ…

Ben decides not to dignify that with a response.

Stillwell lets loose a brief, pleased chuckle. “Well gentlemen, a job well done as always.” She praises, ushering them to the door. Ben arches a brow at their audible hoots and hollers of celebration as they make their way down the hall. “Now, Spider-Man, how are you finding things at Vought so far?”

If false sincerity had a smell, she’d be stinking up the room.

“I’m uh… I’m good.” Ben shuffles, tilting his head from side to side to convey the so-so-ness of his state. Not that it’s been bad, but it hasn’t necessarily been good. And how could it be, really? His whole life was uprooted by the American Jesus himself. A smooth transition was helpful, but the start was still awful.

“Just good?” Suddenly a concerned look not unlike a mother tending to her tearful child flickers over her features. “Has anyone been giving you trouble?”

“No, no– it’s just a lot, y’know?”

“I understand. You should know how glad we all are that you came around to the offer.”

Coerced, but sure…

“You were our top pick, after all.” She says with a tilt of the head and a soft smile.

If the vibe wasn’t so damn off-putting, she might actually be kind of sweet. Benjamin might just buy into that mother dearest tone if it wasn't for that unsettling, opportunistic corporate zombie look in her eyes.

“Now I know you’re already acquainted with Homelander, but it’s certainly about time you met the rest of the team. Follow me…”

#homelander x oc #homelander #homelander fanfiction #this one's just kinda filler. next chapter picks back up #promise <3 #madelyn stillwell #the boys #the boys fanfic #homelander x reader

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here-but-forgotten · 2 years ago

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Unapologetic

Simon Riley x Reader

I feel like I should be put in jail for writing this. - this was also meant for whoever sent in the overstim ghost req

Warnings: swearing, manhandling, choking, edging, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, bondage, sadism, spanking, pussy slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling, He throws you around frfr.

Your legs wrapped around his waist securely, pulling him into you harder, the want to have him on your body dragging you to run your hands through his hair hastily. He slammed you against the white penthouse wall, the pictures rattling with the force, mouths slotted together in frenzied mess of tongue and staggered breaths. The fleeting pressure of his tongue left yours, the brief moment of vacancy being filled with the rustling of clothes before both of your shirts were off. The action barely being registered in your yearning state. His mouth was on yours again, hands roaming the expanse of your hips and up your sides, before rounding your back. He unclipped your bra, the material slipping down your arms before you tugged it off and let it fall to the floor. He let out an amused breath, his lips falling from yours, trailing down your jaw to your neck. His lips latching onto the skin, sucking hickeys onto your neck, painting it with an array of blues and reds.

A breathless moan escaped you, echoing across the empty penthouse under Ghost’s ministrations. His hips rolled against yours, steadily grinding against you and you twitched in his hold, the sudden pressure making you gasp. His lips dethatched from your neck, confusion momentarily replacing the lust clouding your mind before the fingers of his left hand wrapped around your throat, leaving you to be pinned between the wall and his body, thighs supporting your weight effortlessly. The hand around your throat constricted ever so slightly, the pressure making a whimper leave your lips as you begun to feel light headed. “You’re practically falling apart and I haven’t even done anything yet.” He teased, face dangerously close to where his hand met your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to, the hand wrapped snuggly around your neck keeping you from doing so. Your hands wrapped around his wrist at his words, your thighs clenching around where they still rested around his waist, to which he smirked. You tried to grind your hips into his pathetically -key word tried- but his right hand tightened on your waist, other hand tightening around your neck dangerously, and his eyes narrowed- a warning. Your face knitted into a desperate expression, and the man in front of you laughed at the sight. Fuck. You needed something, anything.

Before you could even attempt to say anything more, his hand unravelled from around your throat, both hands picking you up again and carrying you across the penthouse. You were momentarily disoriented, the sudden blood rush to your head making you feel dizzy, and you felt your cheeks flush harder under the sudden high. His steps were fast, carrying him with purpose while you were still trying to get your barring’s. You felt your weight shift, and you were flung onto a soft surface, snapping out of your haze as Simon crawled over you. He straddled you, rest on his knees as he undid his belt over you.

“Your safeword is red.”

“Red?” You asked, slightly dazed.

“Yep.”

He undid his belt and pulled it from his belt loops with a quick tug, before he grabbed both your wrists, hiking them above your head and wrapping the leather around it. You got a view as he was over you, you looked down, eyes tracing over his toned stomach, leading down to a defined V-line. You nearly drooled at the sight, but chose to look back up to his face, your eyes caught on his arms and the way his muscles rippled under his skin as he tied you. You took in the sight, but the longer your eyes trailed over his body the more needy you became, but you decided against doing anything to relieve the pressure due to his earlier warning.

He pulled the belt tight, making sure it was secure, and you winced at the slight pain that jolted through your wrists.

“Don’t move around too much, the belt will leave burns.” He said coyly, before moving down to tug your pants off. You moved your hands to help him, you were still able to help him since you could move your-

You yelped when he pushed you back down, slamming your hands back down on the mattress as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep them right fucking there. Or I might have to tie them to the headboard.”

His previous words didn’t have that much of an effect on you. But this, this. You could feel the dominance radiating off him, silently daring you to try anything. A shiver ran down your spine, cold air hitting your legs and bare cunt as he pulled your pants off along with your panties.

He slipped his pants and boxers off as well; the pants having been undid with what was used for the bindings against your straining wrists. His hands gripped your thighs hard, the slight pinch making you wince yet again, the action only made Ghost’s smirk wider. “Fuck.” You hissed, the pain from his nails digging in to your skin shot through you. His smirk faded at that, replaced by a slight frown. “You might wanna tidy up that potty mouth. Act like a whore and you’ll get treated like one.” This time it was your turn to smirk. “Says the military man, who knows what kinda shit you spew on the daily.” You instantly regretted the words, the aura around him suddenly becoming suffocating. His eyes narrowed into slits, his demeanor becoming more threatening.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” Was all he said before his hand slipped between your thighs, running down your slit as you mewled lowly. His thumb came up to rub your clit in small, torturous circles as you whined and struggled against the belt. The sudden relief to your needy clit making you clench around nothing. The feeling of being so utterly empty made you squirm below him, your hands struggling against the belt. He pushed a finger inside you, a satisfied moan fell from your lips as he slowly pumped it in and out of your sloppy cunt. It felt so good, so fucking good, but it wasn’t enough, and he knew that all too well, watching you writhe in needy agony below him only fed his arousal. He hit a spot that made your breath hitch, and he quickly slipped another finger into you, pinpointing and abusing the spot deep inside you. Your moans stuttered, and you screwed your eyes shut, the slow drag of his fingers inside you was driving you crazy, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Simon!! I- ah!”

You squealed loudly when a harsh slap came down to meet your clit, the overwhelming sensation making you reel and squirm away from his touch, the pain entwined with the pleasure making your thighs shake slightly. You clenched hard on his fingers despite your attempts at fleeing, he only pulled you down back on his hand harder, making his fingers reach deeper inside you while he sped up his movements, meeting your unspoken request.

“Talkative little bitch, aren’t you? You’re so messy, creaming all over my fingers like this.”

A choked moan was ripped from your throat at his words, your back arching at the increased intensity of his fingers dragging along your walls. Your nails dug into your palms, your last attempt of gripping onto reality as your sanity started to slip, the coil in your abdomen getting impossibly tight at his words. Simon noticed your struggles, the smirk crawling onto his face once more at your pitiful attempt to stabilize yourself. “Aww, you having a hard time there hun?” He asked mockingly, pressing down on your bundle of nerves just as your eyes rolled back, causing your thighs to shake violently. You could feel yourself about to tip off the edge, focusing on nothing other than how he toyed with your soaked cunt.

Your pussy fluttered around his fingers, clenching hard around the digits as you teetered over the edge. He pulled his fingers out at the last second, making you cry out at the sudden loss and effectively ripping your release away from you. The pain of it flooding through your system for a fleeting moment before you felt your clit throb desperately. “No, no- why? Fuck!” You felt your orgasm fade away from you, becoming frustratingly out of reach for you, and you sobbed at your needy state. You cried out in frustration and sheer helplessness, looking up at Ghost as he stared down at you with a shit eating grin.

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.”

“The worst thing in this room is your ego.”

His eyebrows raised at that, the expression of shock painting over his features before it morphed into something more carnal. His eyes darkened, and he let out a laugh, but the laugh was different, no light hearted chuckle or a sadistic ring of sick pleasure, it was something malicious. “You want to cum then? Fine. I’ll fuck you until you’re a braindead little bitch. Fucking slut.” He grabbed your hips and roughly turned you over, lifting your hips up to position himself before bottoming out all at once. You grabbed the sheets below you and choked on a whine at the stretch, the burning sensation making small whimpers settle in your chest.

He pulled you back to meet his thrusts, his cock dragging along your sweet spots so effortlessly it made your head spin. The noises you made were unholy, your cries and wails echoing through the room along with the sound of skin on skin. His hand came down on your ass, the smack resounding through the room as you yelped, colours starting to bloom along the skin from the impact. Your whole body trembled, the proof of your arousal clinging to your thighs as you looked down to see the mess you made. You clenched around him when you saw how he was plunging into you, your tight pussy stretching to accommodate his size.

“You’re sucking me in like a bitch in heat, am I fucking you that good?” You couldn’t formulate an answer, so many thoughts running through your brain. You were full- so full. All you could do was watch as he fucked you into the mattress and listen as the lewd squelches echoed around the empty room. You could feel the coil in your gut wind up again, the pressure becoming intense as you moaned out.

You felt fingers interlace in your hair and pull you up, being lifted off the mattress as you were pressed into Simon’s chest. “You don’t know when to shut up do you? Noisy slut.” You could feel the vibration from when he spoke, the words only pushing you further towards your release. His pace never let up, fucking into you fast a hard from behind, hand still in your hair making you back arch almost painfully against his chest. Two of his fingers invaded your mouth, his palm holding your chin as he pressed down on your tongue with the digits, making you gag and saliva pool in your mouth. Your thighs shook violently, the exertion on your body causing your legs to feel almost numb. Before your legs could give out, Ghost released his grip on your hair and wrapped his arm around your waist as he supported your weight easily.

“Going dumb on my cock already? Can’t even hold yourself up.” He muttered into your ear, the arm around your waist dipping down lower to rub circles on your clit. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm hit you like a truck as you gushed around Simon’s cock. Your eyes rolled back as euphoric pleasure washed over you, the feeling overtaking you while you trembled violently. A string of moans rang out that were muffled by Simon’s fingers, and you could here him hiss behind you from how tight you were clamping down on him. Ghost made sure to fuck you through it, his fingers never letting up on your throbbing clit even when you started twitching from overstimulation. His thrust never slowing down even as your cunt clenched and fluttered around him.

His thrusts never let up even as you came down from your high, still fucking in to your messy pussy as overstimulation began to set in and you squirmed in his hold. Your senses heightened, every sensation becoming so much, your mind still clouded in post orgasmic bliss that you never had a chance to come down from. He took his fingers out of your mouth, ignoring how your drool dripped down his hand and down your chin.

“Simon! I- hnngh- S’ t-too much- please! - fuck”

“Do you remember your safeword?”

“Y-yes!”

“You can call it at any time.”

He wrapped his fingers around your neck again, squeezing lightly as he placed open mouthed kissed up your throat. You felt the arm around your waist tighten, pulling you closer to him, and you laid your head against his shoulder, sputtering as you tried to catch your breath. Simon groaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming uneven as he chased his high. He sped the movements up on your clit and you cried out, the oversensitivity sending you hurling towards another orgasm. You clenched your fists tighter, the coil in your stomach coming on much more intense due to your heightened sensitivity. He pressed down on your clit, the action being the last straw to make you come undone yet again, falling over the edge as you cried out his name. He moaned at the feeling of you clamping down on him, making him come undone as well, filling you up as his hips stuttered.

You both sat there for a minute, taking a moment to regulate your breathing before Ghost took his hands off your throat and clit. He pulled out, and a mixture of cum dripped out of you and down your thighs. You ached everywhere, your blissed out state covering up the soreness for now, but would be a refute to deal with later. Simon untied your hands, your wrists were rubbed raw from the struggle against the leather, leaving angry marks across your skin. He brought them up to his lips before kissing them both gently, rubbing them sweetly to hopefully get rid of some of the pain.

“You ok? Are you hurt anywhere besides your wrists?” He asked, looking you over. “I’m fine, and no, not that I know of now at least.” You answered, your eyelids feeling heavy with exhaustion. Ghost helped you lay down, guiding you to rest your head on the pillows. “Just give me a second and I’ll be back with a rag and some water.” He said, brushing your hair out of your face.

He left the room, only coming back a few minutes later now in sweats with some water and a rag in hand. He walked over to you and handed you the glass, watching you drink it down before taking the glass and setting it on the nightstand. You reached your hand out for the cloth, but he shook his head. “Nope, let me.” He said, already easing your legs apart so he could clean up his mess.

Once you were all cleaned up, he climbed into bed with you, climbing under the sheets and wrapping a hand around your waist. “Get some sleep, ok princess?” he asked while tracing patterns into your hip. You hummed in approval, your voice coming out weak from exhaustion, but he got the jest. He cuddled in beside you and you let your breathing even out before letting yourself drift off to sleep, nearing 6AM.

That was the most peaceful you felt in a long time.

#cod #Simon ghost Riley #op I’ll eat you #promise <3

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