#red pill madness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1-victoria-1 · 3 months

Text

Alastor x Child!Doe! Reader

A/n: the reader in this one will be a female and will be around the age of 4-6. I will also try to write a fic for the male audience, enjoy!

If only your innocent little mind knew how shocked, confused and concerned Charlie, the princess of hell was when she saw you, a child who has freshly arrived to hell and came to her tugging her pants and asking in an innocent voice "miss, can you tell me where i am?".

And oh her grandfather how her heart hurt when you looked at her and those little doe ears on top of your head twitched slightly as you tilted your little head at her, of course she couldn't just leave you here! So she took you with her to her hotel and as she literally flew in through the door of the hotel while holding you like a treasure that she has been trying to find for so long and yelling with excitement, "this little cutie is staying with us from now on!" And held you up like simba for everyone to see you and you just innocently looked at them and still confused on where you were and where your mama was.

Charlie then sat you down on one of the red couches in the hotel lobby when Vaggie told her that she should calm down and let you down.

She of course forgot to ask you for your name so she thought it would be good to start off with an introduction! "Alright sweetie! Let me introduce myself and the others to you! Im charlie, this lady next to me is Vaggie, my girlfriend! Then over there is Angel dust and his our first resident at the hotel, then there's Husk, our wonderful bartender! Sir. Pentious our second resident! And nifty she keeps everything clean here and-!"

She was about to introduce the red deer demon when she noticed he wasn't present in the lobby which meant he either was in his radio tower or in cannibal town but she didn't need long when he popped up.

"Charlie dear, i heard that you're introducing us to a new resident at the hotel, who might it be dear?"

Alastor asked as he looked at Charlie with his usual toothy smile, and your first impression about him was that he was red, like a strawberry! And you loved strawberries!

"Alastor! Right on time, i was introducing us to-! Eh i forgot to ask her name, but anyways i was introducing us to our new resident at the hotel! Darling what might be your name?"

Charlie asked you as she kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the couch and started at the deer demon and then looked at Charlie again. "[Y/n]" you said that innocently and squeaked happily, you really were an innocent little fellow.

'a child..'was the first thing Alastor thought, a child in hell was rare, except for the hellborn children of course, a sinner child was rare and this one looked small and from her look she didn't know where she was or what was happening, and she looked like a doe, maybe it was the reason eht he felt such a pang in his sadistic heart when he saw you, you were a doe, a fawn, his deer parent instincts kicked in.

He walked up to you and looked down at you and you looked at him and he just chuckled through his static voice, "oh what a little darling you are, aren't you? Can you perhaps tell us what you remember as last before you came here?" He asked as he looked at you and you twitched with your doe ears slightly and though and then answered.

"well i remember that papa was mad about something and then told me to take some kind of pills which made me feel dizzy and funny!" I said that and looked at the red man in front of me, and that's when the spider spoke, angel dust was it.

"toots her father drugged her with overdoses, what a filthy man." The spider said that and that's when Charlie literally froze up and Alastor himself felt like slaughtering that pitiful excuse of a father with a slow and painful death and then broadcasting his screams in his radio broadcast, and Charlie's reaction wasn't good either, she was all about second chances and redemption but that filthy human being didnt deserves any of it.

Looks like that was the reason why you were in hell, your father killed you with drugs but heaven saw it as if you had taken them willingly, which actually made Alastor and Charlie more furious, you were a child, and a child had nothing to do in hell!

"don't worry sweetie! Big sister Charlie will take great care of you as well as everyone in this hotel! As we are one big family here!" She said that as she calmed down her anger and picked you up and you giggled, you had a big sister now!

_________________________________________

And from that day on you started to live in the hotel while also being taken care of, Angel of course had to put his sex jokes away whenever you were around otherwise he would get threatening looks from Vaggie and Alastor.

Surprisingly and what no one expected was that you warmed up to Alastor quite quickly, you literally were like glued to him, at first he didn't really approve of it but then he also warned up to you and now you were like a father daughter duo!

You would always accompany him where he went but only in the hotel as he didn't want his innocent little doe daughter to get bad influence from hell and also he didn't want you to get hurt.

He would let you in his radio tower and you would either sit in his lap and draw something with crayons on a paper or color something or sometimes just listen to what your now new papa was doing, well except for times when he did gruesome things, he will always either get you to take your nap time or just leave you with Husk where you would get your favorite juice and usually also draw something of just color things in your coloring book and the show it to alastor afterwards.

He of course has taken you to meet Rosie after all she was your auntie now and it wouldn't be polite not to have you meet her and oh my stars she was just beaming when alastor introduced you both, she was an auntie now to Alastor's (literal) spawn of a daughter, and now she got a little lady to give cute little dresses and skirts! She even got you a mini version of Alastor's outfit and even a self-made little cane! Oh how adorable you looked!

Vaggie was very skeptical of this (and she still is) because well Alastor is the radio demon after all and well she just doesn't trust him and how is she supposed to trust him with a kid!

But even if some (almost all of the hotel staff) were skeptical and also afraid that your innocence might change. Alastor was still a great father, he does your hair even if it comes out sloppy at times but he's proud of his doing and sure his mother would be as well, speaking of his mother, she would have loved you as all the food that Alastor cooks you are receipts of his mother! And lets not forget that he tells you stories of her and how great she was, after all he does want you to admire his mother like he does!

He totally cuddles with you, you can't change my mind.

You are now one of his weaknesses now for sure.

At the meeting with heaven, Charlie didn't only present as a possible sinner for redemption, Angel dust and Sir Pentious, she also showed you, but she also wanted that to be as a show of how unfair heaven is, sending a little child down to hell when they have done absolutely nothing wrong and were drugged to death by their father!

Emily of course being the sweetest being ever was shocked and of course started to doubt heaven only more, and when the talk of extermination came, she was furious, like furious furious, like who is in the right mind to kill souls and at that even innocent children! That's just absurd!

A sweet one was when adam revealed Vaggie's identity and Charlie came back to hell with Vaggie and she was sad, you, their little sunshine, was there to cheer Vaggie up, she was your big sister as well! And the. You went to Charlie with auntie Rosie, and then everything was alright again and you were a happy bubbly mess to your father who was scratching you begging your doe ears, you were just the sweetest.

________________________________________

A/n: that's it for now dear reader, i hope you enjoy this little fic! Should i perhaps make a part two of this? Or maybe a full mini series?Have a wonderful day and stay healthy!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #haxbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x child reader #alastor x you #alastor x child reader #everythings platonic

749 notes · View notes

lani-heart · 3 months

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> smut, manhandling, words -> 1.7K

abstract -> “Always used to getting what you want don't you?”

hongjoong’s pov

“Are you sure you want to go to a heat hotel?” Seonghwa asked me and I didn’t know what else to do… “You’re gonna regret it,” Yeosang added. “I don’t want her to feel like she needs to help me… I don’t want to force her” I said and they seemed to understand.

“She’s already accepted you both… besides she doesn’t mind helping us,” Wooyoung said and I felt like I had to just wait… for whatever reason.

“Hongjoong, are you ready!” I heard as I saw y/n now ready to take me to spend my heat with a stranger…

“Don’t come back saying you regret it” Seonghwa warned and I think I would regret it either way… but for now I had to go to that stupid hotel.

They took me away and it felt weird not having y/n with me… she won’t be with me for a week. I wouldn’t see the apartment for a whole week. I then saw a tiger hybrid like Seonghwa with her fur white but a bit duller than his… enter the room.

I could smell her heat, but for some reason, it didn’t push me further into mine. I know I was experiencing my pre-heat but surely I should’ve wanted to succumb to my desires right?

“Have fun” the employee said as I was now left alone with the unknown hybrid… “You're a collectible” she muttered and I growled. “I don’t mean that as offensive… I didn’t even mean to say it but your collar looks expensive” she defended and I knew that it was.

Each collar of hers was the same but different color or different jewels which differentiates me from the other hybrids at home… unique and made for me... which was a crimson red.

“Your owner must have not wanted to deal with a hybrid in heat huh?” she asked and it made me mad how many questions she asked… “No I decided to do it, '' I said and her eyes widened.

“And your owner actually listened?! No way… I was told all of the hybrid collectors could care less about their hybrid’s opinions!” she laughed and it took lots of control to not threaten her.

I found her annoying so how was I supposed to spend the rest of my time with her?

“You do smell like you’re in heat though… I haven’t started mine but I’m having pre-heat symptoms” she said as she now got closer…

“Ready?”

“Told you so,” Wooyoung said, teasing me and I scoffed. “What happened?” Seonghwa asked, clearly amused. “She kept talking about me as if I was a collectible, it was annoying. She was annoying and she had the same stupid fur color as yours” I muttered and they laughed at my misery.

“All hybrids see us that way because most of the hybrid owners as rich as ours collect hybrids,” Yeosang said and I knew he was right but I didn’t want to hear it…

“Hongjoong! Why would you threaten her?!” y/n soon rushed where we were to yell at me. She was trying to reason with her owner on the walk by phone but I think she just has to pay for damages and the hotel charges for that stuck-up she-tiger…

“She annoyed me” I muttered and she sighed and walked off still talking on the phone negotiating with the she-tiger’s owner. “You do know now you have two options y/n or pills,” Wooyoung said as he tossed me heat suppressants.

I walked silently to my room… Luckily, y/n agreed to move Seonghwa and let me have a room to myself despite the Doberman’s protests.

I sighed… I really didn’t want to take heat suppressants. I never have and starting would be bad for my health…

“Hongjoong” I heard as I saw y/n come in. I was annoyed how she constantly smelt like that panther hybrid especially how he’s been sleeping in her bed as of recently though that is my fault.

“Have you decided what you want to do?” she asked with a soft smile… she looked so innocent, why did I hate it? I wanted to ruin her…

“Hongjoong?” she said pulling me away from my thoughts. “I’ll just lock myself in here–” “That's not healthy though” She cut me off and I know it wasn’t but the hotel wasn’t an option anymore.

“I’ll be fine… thank you” I said and she sighed. “I can help you know? I… trust you” she said, actually genuine. “You shouldn’t give your trust to me you know” I said and she smiled.

“I do though… so Hongjoong?”

no one’s perspective

You asked one more time before the tiger’s fantasies took over and nodded. Getting closer to the tiger, he grabbed a hold of one of your thighs before pushing you onto the bed he was sitting in a second ago.

If you told Hongjoong he’d share his heart with a human he would’ve laughed at you a few months ago… but the way you looked up at him curious about what he’d do waiting for his move made him feral.

Those innocent eyes looked up at him… but he knew better. The fox was quite a sex crazed… and the panther a possessive lover, while the Doberman made you the loudest he’s ever heard you.

It was no secret how much those three loved you… but he never believed that it was truly easy to love you.

“Don’t look at me like that” he said… even though he likes your eyes looking up at him submissively, even though he knew that it could become an addiction.

“I thought you were okay with me helping you?” you asked and he hissed. “Not when you make it hard to control myself” he muttered and you offered him one of your genuine smiles… one that differed from the scared and anxious written expression he used to cause.

“You don’t have to… I'm not fragile, you know?” she asked and I chuckled. “Not that… I know you aren’t. But you make it hard for me not to claim you and mark you for your little mates to see” he teased and you then understood what he meant.

“I think… you don’t have to worry about that. Do what you’d like” you said and it shocked him. He let you go and sat down on the bed facing his back towards you… not wanting to make a mistake.

“Hongjoong… you’re bonded with Seonghwa right?” you asked and he nodded. “Well… then you really don’t have to worry. I know we had bad impressions but we put that behind us. I’m not stupid… if you want to make me your mate then do it” you said as you put your chin on his shoulder and he chuckled. He turned his head to face you…

“You’re making it harder on me than anyone i've met” he confessed and she chuckled. “It’s different when you like the person isn’t it?” you said and he didn’t say anything instead he grabbed your jaw but not like he did months ago. He messily and harshly kissed you now desperate…

It was messy as the both of you got lost at the moment. You didn’t even notice when Hongjoong had pinned you down on the bed as his hand stopped your head from moving too much.

When he pulled away he didn’t give himself any time to let his lungs rest as he sucked and bit on your skin. Specifically on the scar he caused… he didn’t like seeing it so he wanted to cover it with a different meaning. His free hand in the meantime clawed through your shirt and ripped open your bra. He gripped you harshly as if you were trying to run away.

His tail even gripped onto your thigh letting him comfortably lay between your legs, his chest pressed against yours and his mouth on your neck.

“Are you sure you want to continue?” he muttered, finally pulling away but not even to look you in the eyes but instead to observe the work he’s done with the dark colored love bites adorning your jaw and neck.

“Please” you begged and he chuckled. “So pretty when you beg like that” he muttered as he leaned in to give you a loving kiss before trailing down to kissing down to your chest and teasing you until he decided to go lower and stop just at where your panties covered you.

He ripped them up with his claws as he teased you. The cold air now makes it obvious just how wet you are as he smirks down at you.

“Anything to say my darling girl?” he asked you and you felt embarrassed having to beg especially when you weren’t used to it. not when the other three were so giving. “Please?” you said and he laughed at your innocence. “Always used to getting what you want don't you?” he teased and he was right… in more ways than one.

You suddenly yelped as he grabbed the back of your thighs and pressed them up against your chest. “But it's not like I can fight these urges,” he said now feeling his heat slowly getting him pent up.

He lined up his cock against your pussy and teased you as you felt the pressure of his weight on your clit. He wanted to see how your hands pressed against his stomach from his rough handle on you. Almost like prey trying to get free.

“Please Hongjoong!” you let out and he chuckled as he did what you requested but all in one go making it sting just a little to accommodate his size.

Hongjoong also let out a string of curses as he freed one hand by putting your leg to rest on his shoulder just to play with your clit making your moans only get louder and your expressions get more lewd.

He wasn’t normally one to think pervertedly but he definitely wanted to see what type of faces you make when he’s fucking you.

Both were desperate for one another and this perverted scene wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He was also intending to make more marks on your body… like handprint bruises on your thighs and more purple hickies adorning your body. Maybe even filling you up in so much cum that you’ll be leaking for days.

Just cause he had to share you, didn’t mean he wasn’t a possessive lover but maybe he’ll convince you to mark him up a bit too?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

446 notes · View notes

lowkeyerror · 5 months

Text

The Family Business Ch.12

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: It's a converstion so dialouge heavy, non-sexual nudity

Summary: Natasha and Wanda reveal their feelings.

An: Ok... ok late again, but tell me it's not worth the wait. (Please don't) Hopefully you love it because it's 2:25am but I'm still doing this for yall and yes if everything goes right new ch. on Monday

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda couldn’t look at you when she was speaking. You could see she was trying to find the words, but you didn’t know how to help her.

Natasha knowing what her wife is trying to say tries to take over.

“ Before I met you I was a little jealous. Seeing the love of my life light up talking about someone who was quite literally thousands of miles away, was a hard pill to swallow. I haven’t known you as long as Wanda, but I can see now why she had always spoken so highly of you.”

You want to interrupt the red head and say anything back to her, but you don’t. They had said they wanted to tell you everything before you spoke so you intended to let them.

“When Papa sent me away, I resented him for it. It was a great opportunity and a show of good faith, but I was angry with him because I didn’t want to leave you here. I thought we had grown quite close, little krolik. You were the best part of all my days. So much so that even thousands of miles away I couldn’t shut up about you. Even after I fell in love, you’d always find a way into my mind,” Wanda plays with her wedding ring as she speaks.

You look between the two woman silently urging them to continue.

“I’ve been many places, lived many lives, and have met many people, but I've never met anyone like you. There’s this light inside you that you keep so close to your chest. I can feel it behind all the walls you put up. I see it in how intensely you care about your family and I admire it. I admire you,” Natasha isn’t scared to take your hand in hers.

Wanda continues, “It’s hard not to admire you. If Natasha has seen it in these few months, it’s safe to say I’ve always seen it. I saw it before you put all these walls up, when you let it be known to everyone. I think that’s what startled me so much when I came home. I felt like a soldier come home from war to see his home was no longer his.”

The woman begins to get emotional. You reach out your other hand for her to take, not knowing what else to do.

“When I saw Wanda interact with you for the first time, I felt something. It wasn’t jealousy or hatred or anything like that. It was this overwhelming warmth. Seeing her hold you as if you’d disappear, seeing her smile as big as our wedding day, it made me happy,” Natasha recounts.

Wanda sighs, “When we were in my old room at the dinner I was terrified. I thought you were going to tell me the same thing everyone else had when it came to you, but you didn’t. You held me, dried my tears, and I think things really started to fall into place for me then.”

“I met Wanda when she was technically on a job. She was leading and in charge of operations. I had seen her get angry or upset on multiple occasions, but I don’t know if I ever saw her as mad as that night. I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears when she had Pietro against the wall. As far as I knew, I was the only one who could calm her down, but then you did it like it was second nature.”

You speak quietly, “She’s always had a temper.”

You think the woman will roll her eyes, but she doesn’t, “I have and you have always been there to calm me down. I don’t know how to say this, Y/n. When I met you, you were just my little brother’s best friend, but then you became my friend and then a part of my family. You were so delicate back then, you weren’t even 18 for Christ sake.”

Natasha tries to help her wife find her bearings, “But by the time she left you were 22 and you had grown into a young woman.”

Wanda shakes her head a bit, “You had done a lot of growing, that I didn't want to see, that I was trying to ignore because I didn’t want you to think that I had intentions of taking advantage of you. I felt like at the time I was too old, you were too young, and we were too close.”

You look at her with confusion on your face. There’s only one thing that she could be talking about in your mind, but this can’t be happening.

“What are you saying Wanda?”

For the first time in the conversation her eyes meet yours. You see the fear in them, the uncertainty, the desperation. Her hand let’s go of yours and finds itself on her bouncing knee.

“I don't want to ruin this and I'm so scared of losing you, but if you would’ve died in that alley not knowing that I’m in love with you it would’ve destroyed me.”

You feel your heart beating against your chest. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your voice. You find yourself stuttering for the first time in years, “Y-you w-what?”

Wanda stands abruptly trying to run from the conversation. This makes you panic and try to stand as well. However, you forget about your ankle and yelp at the weight you put on it.

Wanda’s arms are quick to steady you before you do anymore damage to yourself. She’s close to you and you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“D-did you s-ay-” you give up frustrated with your reappearing stutter.

Wanda’s grip on you tightens slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

“Wanda I- you’re married,” you look back at Natasha only to find her staring at you.

She stands from her place on the couch, and closes the gap between the two of you.

“I have my own feelings for you Y/n,” Natasha is confident as she speaks.

Her assertion makes you turn red, “Y-you also?”

Natasha smiles sweetly, “Maybe not love just yet, but I could see myself falling for you.”

This situation was short-circuiting your brain, it felt like you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real. As you stood between the two woman it felt like less of a dream.

“I loved you before they sent you away,” you blurt out to your friend’s sister.

Once you start it’s like the words just pour out of your mouth, “You were way out of my league. You’re still out of my league, I mean does it get more taboo than falling for your best friend’s older sister. You’re just so easy to love, but I never thought I had a chance and then you came back with a wife; a very beautiful, very intelligent, ex-Russian spy of a wife, and I just knew I didn’t have a chance.”

“The chance is now. Admittedly, we don’t know how something like this works, but I think we can figure it out together,” Wanda levels with you.

“If you're interested,” Natasha adds on, leaving the ball in your court.

“It would’ve been nice if you guys had told me before I got a cut on my lip. I could’ve done the whole dramatic kiss to cut you off,” you tease them.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “If I could shove you and you wouldn’t fall over, I would.”

“You talk to every woman you’re in love with like that?”

Natasha chimes in, “You get used to it after awhile.”

You share a laugh and when it dies down Wanda speaks, “So we’re doing this?”

“I want to try, but I don’t want to ruin your marriage,” you speak honestly.

“You won’t,” Natasha declares with certainty.

“How do you know?”

She thinks for a moment, “The love Wanda and I have for each other is endless, I’ve never for a moment thought anything could break it up. We’re not changing the way we love each other, we’re just adding you into the already existing dynamic. Eventually it should end with the three of us loving each other endlessly. Does that make sense?”

You nod slowly, “It sounds perfect.”

Natasha places a kiss on your cheek like it’s second nature to her, “Good.”

Your ears heat at the contact and before you can respond Wanda places a light kiss at the corner of your lips.

The movement leaves you wanting more. Against better judgement you try to lean down and kiss her. You succeed in placing your lips against hers for a brief second but as you pull away you almost fall again.

Natasha is the one to steady you this time. She teases you, “Someone is eager?”

“My ankle doesn’t want me to be great.” you pout.

Natasha hesitates, but delicately she touches her lips to yours. It’s as quick as your attempt at kissing Wanda.

“Your ankle won’t stop us, bunny,” Wanda looks at you with shining eyes.

Your face heats at the nickname that’s only familiar to you in the woman’s native language. The women chuckle at the pigment of your skin.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when my lips don’t hurt and I can kiss you properly,” you try once again standing on your own.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Wanda lets her eyes fall to your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Stop teasing, and help me get ready for bed. This has simultaneously been one of the best and one of the most painful days of my life. Truly unforgettable.”

Natasha speaks first, “I’ll get some stuff ready for a shower.”

“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Wanda finishes.

It’s an all too similar feeling as you find yourself perched on the bathroom counter with Wanda standing between your legs.

Her fingers play with the end of your shirt. She looks at you for permission and you give her a light nod.

Slowly as to not aggravate your injuries she takes your shirt off. She’s careful as she unwraps the bandages from your torso.

“You’ll need help in there,” she speaks softly as her eyes scan your body.

“I know,” the pain starts to catch up with you.

Leaning forward slightly you rest your head on her shoulder. She smells good and it calms your nerves.

Wanda can’t help herself as she speaks up, “Isn’t this a familiar scene?”

You raise your head off of her shoulder and smile, “It’s ringing a few bells.”

Natasha enters the restroom with some towels and pajamas, “I’m going to get some food going, if you guys are alright in here?”

Wanda nods, “I’ve got her, Nat.”

Natasha nods and proceeds to exit the bathroom, “Just holler if you need me.”

Wanda steps away from you to turn the shower on. She’s back in front of you in no time.

“How do you want to do this?”

You feel nerves as you speak, but you try to sound objective, “I think you should join me. Not because I want to see you, not that I don’t want to see you. Its just I can’t really stand and-”

She quiets you down by pulling her own shirt over her head. Her feet pad against the bathroom floor as she makes her way back over to you. Wanda’s hands place themselves on the top of your pants. Her movements are slow but sure as she begins to pull them down. She takes extra care when they're around your ankle.

Once they’re off she takes a step back swiftly removing her own pants. The only thing left on both of you is your underwear.

The sound of the shower rings heavily in your ears as you watch Wanda take her bra off. You can’t move even if you want to. Your eyes glance over her chest before following her hands path lower. She’s not teasing as she removes her panties.

Once again you find yourself with her standing between your legs, but this time there was significantly less fabric in the way. She reaches behind you back to place her hands on your bra clasp.

“Y/n, do you mind if-"

“Take it off,” you finish for her.

She does as you say, a shaky breath releases from her. Your bra falls off your shoulder, but you keep looking in her eyes. Her hand slides down from your back and her finger hooks around your underwear.

“Take it off,” you repeat in a hushed tone.

She follows your instructions. Her eyes snap back to yours. The two of you stare in silence. There’s an underlying tenderness to the moment.

Wanda’s hand reach for your waist, “Ready?”

You nod and she assists you off of the counter. The water hits your skin and you sigh. You enjoy the heat against your bruised skin. Wanda’s hands stay in place for a moment just keeping you steady.

It's a silent delicacy as Wanda soaps up a towel and begins to gently clean your skin. You marvel at the lightness of her touch.

She turns you around so you face her. You look down at her and can’t help but brush your nose against hers. You hear her breath hitch. Carefully you use your hand to guide her’s across your body.

Neither of you dwell as she cleans every inch of you intimately. You lean against the shower wall a bit so Wanda has room to wash herself. You take in the details of her body as she cleans herself.

She gets out first and then helps you put the pajamas laid out for you on before dressing herself.

“I love you,” you say it easily when everything is done.

Wanda places a kiss on your forehead, “I love you too.”

Wanda helps you to the kitchen table. Your eyes find Natasha moving about in the kitchen.

“Almost done, I know you’re tired lisichka. We can eat then get in the bed,” Natasha speaks to you.

“Thanks Natty,” you look at her with your hand on your chin.

“Did you re-wrap her torso detka?” Natasha asks her wife.

Wanda snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something.”

“Take over here, and I’ll do it?”

Wanda agrees to these terms. Natasha goes to fetch the medical wrap and quickly returns. You’re sitting down, so Natasha kneels to be level with your torso.

Carefully with tentative hands, she lifts up your shirt. Her hand finds the small of your back, to encourage you to sit straight. You follow her instructions.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, okay?”

You’re looking down into her eyes and you momentarily get lost in them. The hues of green draw you in like emeralds.

“Baby,” she says again a little more firm.

You snap out of it and nod, “I’ll tell you if it’s too tight.”

She brings the wrap around your torso multiple times, each time looking for any extensive discomfort in your expression.

When she’s done with your torso, she quickly does your ankle. Your ankle was more sensitive, so she made sure to be extra gentle.

“All set, lisichka,” the woman places a kiss on your forehead as she stands up.

“Food is ready,” Wanda announces bringing plates for the three of you to table.

At this point exhaustion was knocking at your door. You eat in comfortable silence and once you’re finished, they help you to bed.

When your head hits the pillow, you almost fall asleep instantly.

“If I didn’t want to kill him for what he did to my father, I’d kill him for this,” Wanda says to her wife.

“The men involved have been dealt with already,” Natasha relies to her Wanda.

“You work fast malyshka,” Wanda places her hands on Natasha’s hips.

Natasha looks at your sleeping figure, “I’d move at the speed of light for either of you.”

Natasha ends her statement by kissing Wanda.

“I love you,” Wanda pulls the woman closer to her.

Natasha smiles pecking the woman’s lips once more, “I love you too.”

The two of them climb into the bed, making sure to give you adequate space due to your injuries.

“Why does this already feel so natural?” Wanda questions.

Natasha answers instantly, “It’s just meant to be like this. This feels like the final piece to our little puzzle."

Wanda was more than content with that answer, closing her eyes, unable to fight rest.

Somewhat like before, but entirely different at the same time, the three women lay together.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #the family business

439 notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

********************************************

Previously:

"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.

*******************************************

Present Day

*Soldier Boy POV*

The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.

When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.

Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.

He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.

"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"

Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.

It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.

When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.

You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.

The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.

And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.

Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.

Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.

And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.

Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.

When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.

But the thought of you loving him scared him.

As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.

You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.

So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.

The psychotic bitch that sold me out.

It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.

"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.

He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.

"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"

"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"

"Her daughter." Hughie answers.

Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.

Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said?

"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."

"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.

But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.

His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.

"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.

"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.

"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.

Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"

"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"

"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.

Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.

"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.

"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.

Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.

Of course she was upset.

He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.

Because you were his.

He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.

Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.

Could she still be alive?

Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.

The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.

He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.

Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.

Purposeless.

He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.

She was just so damn stubborn all the time.

"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."

Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."

"But-" Hughie interjects.

"Oi Hughie. Calm down."

"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."

"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.

***************************************************

"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.

Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.

Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.

A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.

"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.

"What floor?"

"8th." Butcher says.

When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?

The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.

If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.

The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.

"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.

As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses.

And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.

Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.

He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.

That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.

He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.

The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.

Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it, but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.

The apartment felt like you.

And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.

You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.

He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.

"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.

Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.

Where was she going?

Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.

He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.

She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-

The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.

But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.

He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.

He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.

Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.

The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.

The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."

When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.

"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.

"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.

But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.

"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again

"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.

"What?" Hughie asks.

"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“

Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game, before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.

Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.

Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.

Maybe she should have.

He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.

He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't. It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.

But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.

He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you. He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him. Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.

Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.

He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-

“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.

Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?

Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?

Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-

Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.

He remembers again what it was like to be with you in bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.

You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-

Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-

He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.

He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.

Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.

The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.

He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.

Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-

His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.

But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.

I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-

Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.

Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.

***************************************

A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

391 notes · View notes

catofoldstones · 8 months

Text

Maybe the reason Sansa comes off as a meek doormat while she’s married to Tyrion is not because she’s a red pilled tradwife, it’s because she’s scared of getting caught for planning her own escape. It’s established within the first few paragraphs of Tyrion’s pov after the wedding that that’s a terrified 12 year old prisoner of war child bride who’s fooling a whole, grown husband and the entire red keep that she’s a little too devotional and absolutely not plotting her freedom in a fortress full of spies, soldiers and noble powerhouses, that too successfully. She’s not concerned that Tyrion’s peas are overcooked, she’s deliberately trying to put up an act so that her cover isn’t blown. She’s outsmarted Tyrion Lannister of all people, and you can die mad about it.

#you can argue all you want that it’s dontos/lf who plan #but it’s still Sansa who has to act and keep herself safe #sansa stark #asoiaf #asos #it’s also a fear response called ‘fawn’ where you literally fawn over the abuser/trigger like Sansa does #but go off I guess #everyday I have to fight cat/san tradwife accusations #game of thrones #got

993 notes · View notes

innerfare · 18 days

Text

Smutty Captain Kid Headcanons - Part 2

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Captain Kid

Genre: Smut

CW: oral sex, dirty talk, mean dom Kid, spanking, biting, spitting, rough sex, unsafe sex, Kid might be a bit toxic, threesomes

———

Gets a little too turned on if you flip him off during sex. The first time you did it, he was fucking you from behind and goading you like he usually does; unable to talk you flipped him the bird, and he came almost instantly. Is there a such thing as a middle finger kink? Because if so, he has it.

Super into sexy costumes. French maid, innocent bunny, cute sailor girl, the Gol D. Roger costume you customized to be comically inappropriate. Aside from costumes, leopard print lingerie is his favorite.

Sounds like a feral animal when he goes down on you. Prefers to do it from behind because it seems to make you even more vulnerable. Has eaten you out on the deck of the Victoria Punk, you clinging to the wheel and keeping a lookout for any crew members, Kid shoving a finger up your ass. Eats ass, too. His favorite is the way you gasp and whine when he spits on you to lube you up. Definitely spanks you while he goes down on you, both ass and tits, and squeezes your thighs like he’s trying to rip the skin open.

Most nights the two of you are together, it sounds like there’s a rabid dog loose in his cabin. The crew has come to accept this.

Never leaves your nipples alone. Pinches them, squeezes them, flicks them, bites them. You had to set boundaries re: your nipples because they were raw all the time.

Wants to hurt you, but also wants you to hurt him. Will grab your face in his massive hand and squeeze until you slap him, will spit in your mouth and swallow when you spit back, will bite the ever-loving crap out of your neck (like actually chomp down on you, no such thing as sweet little love bites), laughs like a mad man if you rake your nails down his chest and draw blood (bonus points for hurting his nipples), never smacks your ass less than ten times, will cum immediately if you try to bite his ear off.

If you show even a hint of dissatisfaction after the deed is done, he’s back on top of you in an instant pounding away.

Is the absolute worst about birth control. Complains incessantly if you make him wear condoms, usually because they’re ‘too small’ and cramp his style, claims he has a latex allergy and condoms give him a rash (literally not true). Annoyed by his whining, you try the pull out method, only to find he’s even worse about that. “But it feels so good.” “I don’t want to pull out.” “Why should I even bother? We both want me to cum inside of you, anyway.” “Stop complaining.” “I didn’t become a pirate to follow rules, y/n.” He does genuinely try to pull out, but he’s so bad at it. You have no choice but to get on some form of pill before you have a little red-haired menace running around.

Once you do get on that pill, you never don’t have his cum inside you. He cums a cartoonish amount, too, and by the time you’re cleaned out, he’s mounting you again.

Believes in kissing and telling. In particular, he wants you telling. He wants you getting drunk and telling the bar that his balls are the size of a bull’s. He wants you telling the crew you’re taking it easy because you got dicked down the night before and you’re sore as a motherfucker. He wants you tearing apart the infirmary for bruise cream, loudly announcing it’s because Kid can’t just make love sweetly but has to ride you like an animal every night.

Loves fucking you out in the open. Usually it's on the deck of the Victoria Punk. Has also fucked you in an alleyway outside a tavern before.

Really loves the idea of a threesome but is far too jealous of a lover to make it work. If you like girls, he’s obsessed with the idea of you being dominated by one. Also enjoys letting other people watch, especially men (strict no touching rule); he wants to show off his prowess.

That being said, Killer is the exception. Kid is more than happy to switch off with Killer, the two of them tag teaming you until you just can’t take anymore. Killer can even fuck you when Kid’s not there to oversee.

Is secretly a sweet little boy, and it shows in after care. Calls you all sorts of sweet nicknames when you’re in his big arms afterward, but says them quietly in your ear. Tells you that if you disappeared, he would tear the world apart looking for you, and if you died, he would set the world on fire. And he’s just crazy enough to mean it.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #eustass kid #one piece eustass #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #captain kid x reader #Victoria punk #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid smut #one piece smut #one piece headcanons

213 notes · View notes

nsharks · 10 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"Twix."

Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.

“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."

"Well, technically, I hurt them."

Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."

"It was important—"

"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”

"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.

"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."

Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.

"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."

A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.

You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it.

"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."

She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words.

"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"

"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."

You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No— I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.

"How many have you killed?"

"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."

"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.

"I know. Me, too.”

With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”

"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.

"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."

"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."

"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little.

Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.

"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.

Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.

"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.

He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."

A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank.

Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.

"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"

It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"

"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."

"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"

"On a good day, maybe," he answers.

"What about you, Twix?"

"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."

"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"

"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.

"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.

"It does matter. Might change my answer."

"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."

"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.

"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."

Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."

"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims.

"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead.

"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"

"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.

"Knife."

"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."

They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."

In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight.

The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo.

You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.

He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands.

"Here."

It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss.

Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.

At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping.

At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"

"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point.

"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."

"I could go for another three."

She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.

The sleep is good until it's not.

On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.

Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair.

You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.

On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall.

It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.

But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.

"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."

"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.

You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night.

"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.

"And you what?"

"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."

He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."

"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"

Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him.

"Twix."

You pause, looking back. "Yes?"

A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do."

With that, you crawl back onto the couch.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #zombie apocolypse au

1K notes · View notes