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#frank woods x female reader
konigsblog · 6 months
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༉‧₊˚. HUMILATION
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frank woods x fem!reader
kinktober masterlist. (day 22)
[WARNINGS] teasing, mirror sex, fingering, orgasm denial/control, humilation (obviously)
proofread.
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Frank can't control himself. Something about the control and authority of teasing you and having you weak, able to see your every facial expressions, your reaction is to the simplest of things he'd do to you while vulnerable and desperate.
Your eyes watered as he ran his fingertips over your clit. His busy beard scratching against your bare neck while he toyed with your nipples with his other hand. You could feel his fingers trace down between your slit, easing into your folds and filling your holes with two thick and calloused fingers.
You gasped, throwing your head back at the stimulation. Wet tears slowly ran down your cheeks as he'd been overstimulating you for ages, using all types of methods to get you wet and whiney. From toys to his degrading, his humilation that had you lowering your head and closing your eyes tightly in shame from being in such a state...
“Ain't'cha jus' so fuckin' desperate? Drippin' all over my hand, baby...” he teased, tutting and and rubbing your clit with his thumb when you looked away from the mirror. “Uh-uh, c'mere, don't make me punish ya' anymore. Ya' wanna cum, yeah? Then act good.”
You mewl out when his fingers rub at the sweet spot, causing your thighs to tremble just at the sensation. You gripped his wrist as he flicked your clit, sucking hickeys onto your neck and breathing heavily in your ear. Just the sounds of his laboured breathing had you pulsing and throbbing. “Oh–look at'chu, baby... God, you're makin' a mess, huh? Jus' too wet? Can't take anymore? That'd be a real shame if I were to keep you from cummin', wouldn't it?”
Lowering your head, you're smacked back to reality when he spanks your wet cunt for looking away. He sinks his thick finger back inside, his other hand gripping your jaw. The smell of light sweat, smoke and tobacco was noticeable in the air. Along with Frank's thick musk that followed, his cologne assulting your nostrils when you threw your head back from the pleasure. It all made your insides feel fuzzy and your vision go blurry and hazy from your desperate orgasm
Each time he ran his fingers across that one spot, he'd pull away. Just as fast as it came it was gone, controlling your poor and long awaited orgasm that seemed to be dragged out for an eternity. You moaned and felt yourself growing closer, his touch pulled away. Frank's fingers twisted your nipples, biting into your neck while you stimulated your clit – yet nothing would compare to his touch.
“Can't get off?” he chuckles out, biting your earlobe. ”Cum on my hand, pretty.“ Frank's fingers replace yours as he thrusts them back into you. The repetitive movement causing you to grind and gasp out through loud moans. Unable to hold back any longer, you cum down his fingers as he fucks them deep inside. Your cum squirting up his forearm.
You pant, breathless as you gaze into his eyes through the mirror, seeing him grinning ear to ear at the mess you'd made. “Fu... Frank–” he cuts you off by pushing his digits into your mouth, three wet and cum covered fingers pressed into your mouth. “Taste good, huh?”
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rascal-xo · 11 months
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send in y’all’s Price/Ghost/Soap suggestions |My requests are open for any other kind of fic suggestions as well!|
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obsessedwrhys · 6 days
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UNFORGETTABLE
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Frank Woods takes you on a date at Burger Town (fluff, cursing, just reader and woods being a lovey dovey couple, reader is fem and also bell in this story, backstory will be explained using the plots of the campaign and seasons, reader experiences side effects from brainwashing, adler never shot bell in this fic!!)
ᯓ★
From being one of Perseus's trusted spies to working for the CIA, throughout your entire life you weren't sure who you really were.
However, it didn't take long for the truth of your past to slowly uncover itself when you and several others were tasked with taking down Stitch. From there that's when you learned your true identity.
Even then, you never felt like that person was you anymore, so you went on the rest of your life with a new name. Your own identity.
Despite the horrors in those events, some good managed to come out of it. You were able to score yourself a loving boyfriend.
Sure, he hates the soviets but you were a different story. Everybody deserves second chances right?
That's why during your mission at the USSR where you two were paired to infiltrate a russian base, he was absolutely baffled when you weren't familiar with the mascot of a famous restaurant he loved.
"Shit, it's Bubby! I fucking love Bubby!"
"Who's Bubby?"
"What?! You don't know who this is??"
"Uhh..."
And that was way before you guys started dating. After everything has settled down and that you two were blessed with free time, he decided it was only right to let you live your new life with a fresh start. That fresh start happen to be through the doors of the Burger Town entrance.
"I can't believe you managed to convince me to do this" You laughed as your boyfriend practically drags you into the place.
"You talk like I'm forcing you to join a cult" He said before letting you stand in front of him to queue up.
"Judging by how much you praise this restaurant, it might as well be" You joked which had him laugh.
"Oh yeah? And would you join if I asked you to?"
"Nope but I might turn you in for some cash" You responded which made him playfully grab you around the waist in an attempt to tickle you.
The second the customer at the front left, the two of you quickly stopped playing around and tried to act normal as it was your turn to order. You looked through the menu. So many interesting selection...
"Double Chili Time Bomb...?" You smirked at Woods who's standing over you. The two of you exchanging knowing glances at a shared memory.
"How about we leave that story in the past" He said almost like he's pleading you to forget it and you found it amusing.
"Because you mistaken a kid's backpack for a bomb and had everyone including me panic for no reason?"
"I didn't rest that well the night before okay. Now what are you gonna order?" He said and you looked back at the menu, going through each meal and being indecisive on which to choose.
There's so many...
But which one is ACTUALLY good?
Hm....
"Did you fall asleep?"
"Shhh" You waved at him dismissively to try to shut him up, but he ended up grabbing your wrist to place soft kisses on your knuckles.
"How about you go find us a seat and I'll order what you want" He said and you looked at him.
"You know I don't like—"
"I know"
"And I hate eating—"
"I also know that honey" He leaned in to place another kiss on your forehead.
"I did promise you a good meal so don't worry 'bout it" He spoke and you gave him a smile of gratitude. Feeling reassured, you eventually left to find an empty table to sit.
You're no expert but you're pretty sure you found a good spot. It's by the window and you guys get a good view of the streets. After a few minutes of waiting, you looked up to find Woods carrying a tray of the food he picked out. You could only watch in awe as he settle it down on the table before taking the seat in front of you.
"You ordered so much" You said.
"They're not all for me if that's your concern" He handed you your burger and you chuckle at his answer.
You remove half of the wrapper around your burger and just from the looks of it, it looked delicious, not to mention juicy. You then looked over at Woods who seem to be waiting for you to take your first bite. You couldn't help but struggle to contain a smile when you wondered how long he was staring at you.
"You look like Mary when she's waiting for us to feed her" You said, referring to your dog. An Australian Shepherd you two rescued from a shelter.
"Is that your way of calling me cute?" He asked with a cheeky smile. His confidence having you laugh.
"Shut up" You simply said but the smile on your face betrayed your words.
Not being able to wait any longer, you took a cautious bite of the burger. You kept chewing on the food but ended up pausing when you realised it was actually good. So he wasn't kidding. You thought and continued chewing but this time faster. Your act easily made Woods eyes light up in satisfaction.
"It's good isn't it?" He asks as he finally eats from his own burger.
"Its sow yummey" You said with a mouthful and he couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he found you in this state.
"Careful, I don't want you to choke" He grabbed a napkin and gently wipe the sauce off your cheek.
Taking his advice and also not wanting a heartburn. You took your time enjoying your burger and swallowing when you wanted to say something. At the same time, he was also enjoying his meal, he was leaned back and relaxed in his own seat.
"What did you get for yourself?" You asked before drinking from your straw. Your question made him look at you.
"Burger Town Classic Burger. You can't go wrong with the original"
"Can I try??"
"Only if I get a bite of yours"
"Deal"
Exchanging your burgers, you quickly took a bite of his and you couldn't help but melt at the taste. The sauce makes it so much better! Seeing you taking another bite, Woods couldn't help but chuckle.
"I'm getting the hint I'm not having my burger back" He said but you simply kept on eating, grabbing some fries while you're at it.
"Why didn't you take me here sooner?" You asked as he drinks from his shake.
"I would have if we weren't getting sent around on missions so much"
"Oh yeah...."
Right as you were about to take another bite, you felt a sharp pain from the front of your head. You wince as you grabbed at your forehead. This catching Wood's attention immediately.
"Shit... you okay?" Woods quickly stood up and was ready to rush to your side but you gestured him to stop.
"I'm good. Just an ache..." You rubbed your temples in an attempt to sooth the pain and it was slowly working.
Once he was sure you won't faint or fall over, he sat back down on his seat with his eyes still watching you cautiously.
"Is the medicine not working?"
"It is, Park just says it takes time since they dosed me with a lot of drugs, but the wait will be worth it..." You hold his hand from across the table to try to comfort him. His hands not hesitating to squeeze back.
It remained quiet for a while until he let's out a sigh. His tone indicating he was upset.
"... I'm sorry—"
"No... don't even start. You didn't know I was being experimented with. You don't owe me an apology"
"Okay..." He muttered but he couldn't bring himself to look at you. It was clear he still felt some sort of guilt from what happened.
Just then, you grinned when you remembered something.
"I never got to say, I still can't believe you beat up Adler when you found out. Mason told me you also punched Hudson when he tried to hold you back" You said, trying to change the mood of the conversation which worked because you could see the corner of his lips twitched slightly upwards.
"Yeah well if they hadn't stopped me I would have killed that son of a bitch" Woods said as he hesitated for a while before finally locking eye contact with you.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me? Fuck... the things I'd do for you..." He chuckles a bit, almost like he's in complete disbelief to the fact he finds it humorous.
You could only beam warmly at his words, feeling loved by the reminder of the memories you two shared.
"... thank you for always taking care of me" You said and it was enough to have him all flustered. He shakes his head slightly with an embarrassed smile.
"Don't thank me for something I'd do for you" He said. Then he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your face to caress your cheek.
"Now come on, let's eat before the food gets cold" He said, reminding you of your burger that has been left unattended on your plate for so long.
"Ugh, I hate cold food"
"I know"
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How about: showing Frank Castle your new lingerie? It can be fluff, it can be smut, do with it what you please! <3
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Spin For Me.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - allusions to sex. cursing.
valentines masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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“Keep your eyes closed, Frank. I’m serious.”
He’s grinning, both hands pressed to his face as proof. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom.
“Come on, baby. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Good things come to those who wait!” you yell through the wood. Frank laughs, shaking his head.
You finally swing open the door, leaning against the frame with a hand on your hip. You take him in for a moment - the smile on his face, his relaxed stance, the way his sweatpants hug his thighs just right. Inhaling deeply, you clear your throat.
“Open ‘em, Frankie.”
Frank blinks in the lamplight, adjusting to the brightness. When his eyes land on you, his breath hitches in his throat. He rakes his gaze all the way down your body and back up again, slow and sticky sweet. His irises darken, lust blooming across his skin.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Goddamn.”
You push yourself off the doorframe, standing up straight.
“Spin f’me.”
“Hmm?”
“Spin for me, baby. Let me see you.”
You twirl around gently, like a ballerina in a music box. When you stop in your place, Frank gestures with his finger for you to spin the other way.
It’s almost voyeuristic, the way he’s devouring you with his stare. You feel like predator and prey, in the moonlight of your bedroom.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”
The lace hugs your body exactly, every dip and curve accentuated. The colour compliments your skin perfectly, and your mind is running a mile a minute wondering what Frank is going to do to you first.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckles. “Yes it is.”
He stands up finally, making his way over to you. You’re waiting for him to twist his fingers into the material and rip, like he usually does. Instead, he runs his fingertips over the lace trim on your chest, gentle and featherlight. He dances his touch down your sides and onto the top of your underwear, playing with the band softly.
“Want you to keep it on,” he murmurs. “Wanna see this lace against your skin when I eat you out.”
You exhale shakily, nodding your head.
“Plus,” he whispers, leaning down to mouth at your ear. “This pretty thing gives me something to hold onto. Better grip when I fuck you into the mattress.”
You drop your head forward onto his chest, bare skin warm against your forehead. You can feel the way his lungs are heaving, just as buzzed on the anticipation as you are.
“You’ve given me a gift, honey. Now let me give you one.”
He drops to his knees in front of you. You’ve never seen anything prettier.
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zepskies · 1 year
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Break Me Down - Part 5
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: Get ready, there be some surprises in store for this one…
Word Count: 5,100 Warnings: 18+ only. Smut (m. receiving oral and implied smut), SB’s attempts at flirting lol.
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Part 5: Morning, Night & Day
Now that you were allowed to roam the mansion freely, you were able to confirm that it was huge. And it was beautiful…if a bit dusty. 
The house boasted Spanish style arches and textured walls, cherry wood furniture and rod iron lamps and wall sconces, not to mention various art pieces on the walls that looked well-curated. No doubt Soldier Boy had hired an excellent interior designer.
You were more interested in the garden outside. It was tucked away behind the pool, in the shade of large palm fronds and bigger trees. Peeking through them was a lovely view of the mountains. 
Though it reminded you of the damn cliff where you fell, Soldier Boy saving you, and of course, being an arrogant asshole about it. 
Your lips pursed in annoyance. What a dick.
Expelling a heavy sigh, you shook the thought of him out of your head as best you could, and tilted your head up to the sunshine. You’d found a nice stone bench to just sit and be, and try not to think about why you were here.
“Lunch time,” Frank said, encroaching on your solitude. He wasn’t a chatty man, always one to hand off your meal and leave. Escort you back to your room and leave. 
You were bored enough (and perhaps lonely enough) to attempt a conversation.
“You seem to be the brains of the operation,” you remarked. “Yet he’s got you babysitting me. My condolences.”
Frank gave you a bland look. He wasn’t a hothead like Tony, but he was starting to look annoyed as he was still holding out the plate to you. It looked like a roast beef sandwich on rye with some mixed fruit on the side. At least they were trying to keep you healthy.
“I’m not a fan of rye bread,” you admitted. “Tastes like sour cardboard.” 
But you took the plate anyway. 
“Want to sit?” you offered a place next to you on the bench, before Frank could scurry off. “I doubt doing Soldier Boy’s bidding is more fun than ignoring me for a few minutes.”
You could tell he was about to leave anyway. So you tried one more thing.
“He’d probably want you to watch me,” you pointed out. “Make sure I don’t choke on a grape or something.”
Frank’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. After a moment of indecision, he surprised you by sitting down with you. You’d been trying to get Frank to talk to you for days, but he was definitely the strong and silent type. The good soldier, following his orders. 
You were a curious person by nature, but more than that, you wanted to know what kind of men your captors were. You weren’t just learning Soldier Boy. You had to learn his team too.
So you offered Frank a grape. He met you with a raised brow, but he didn’t take it. You shrugged and popped it into your mouth.
“So,” you started, tucking into your sandwich next. “Ex-military, turned private sector?” 
Frank shot you another look. He was older than you, though not quite old enough to be your father. He could have been around M.M.’s age.
“You carry yourself like an military man. Marine maybe,” you guessed. 
Frank sighed and gave a short nod. “Good guess.”
“My father was a Marine,” you said. And that was the truth. Military men ran in your family—from your father to your grandfather, though you’d never met the latter. He’d died of liver and kidney failure, thanks to good old-fashioned alcoholism.
Frank snorted. “My condolences.” 
You eyed him with a small smile. “You got a family? Wife and kids?”
He hesitated, casting his gaze ahead. You sensed it was a question with a potentially loaded answer, so you let it be. 
“Yeah,” you said. “I know the feeling, being married to your job. Harder to quit than heroin.” 
When you offered him another grape, this time, he actually took one.  
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Being able to tell between night and day somehow told your body that the night was no longer for sleeping. So your wandering continued that night. 
Moonlight poured through the tall windows outlooking the garden, but most of the mansion was dark and eerie and all but silent, except for some quiet rain pattering outside. 
It’s like an episode of Scooby Doo in here, you thought with a shiver. The long halls were empty and mostly dark, with just a few dim wall lights along the way. Still, you’d rather be alone than run into one of Soldier Boy’s goons, or even the man himself. 
But you wanted to rejoice when you found the kitchen. Finally, you could put together a meal for yourself that wasn’t a damn sandwich. 
Both the pantry and fridge were fully stocked with expensive-looking ingredients. At the moment though, you weren’t so hungry for a heavy meal as you were for a snack. Maybe something for your incurable sweet tooth. 
You rifled through and found something you recognized: a family-sized tray of Chips Ahoy. 
Ooh, success! With a grin, you ripped open the top and rifled through the cupboards for a glass.
“The hell’re you doing?”
You jumped with a yelp at the voice that startled you. You looked over your shoulder and frowned in annoyance when you noted Soldier Boy in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. A snappish retort was on your tongue, but at the last moment, you held onto the threads of your temper.  
Don’t be difficult, you reminded yourself, however much the thought grated.
“Midnight snack,” you replied, nodding to the open parcel of cookies. “Want some?”
You took out two glasses without looking at him, but you could hear him approach. When you went to the fridge to look for some milk, you noticed him take a seat at the kitchen island in front of you, where there were three stools. 
“What’re you, a fucking eight-year-old?” he remarked. You raised a brow at him and took no less than five cookies from the tray. 
“You’re never too old for milk and cookies,” you said sagely. You were a proud dunker, and you did so until your cookie was half-soggy with milk. You shoved an entire one into your mouth and looked him in the eyes when you did it. 
His lips tugged upwards, dryly amused, while his gaze not-so-subtly raked over your form. You almost rolled your eyes, but you resisted. He could take in your oversized shirt and sweats all he wanted.
“‘S that a man’s shirt?” he asked. 
“Yeah. Not a lot to pick from here at the Holiday Inn,” you quipped. You were running out of clean items that would actually fit you, and you weren’t about to run around here in some of the slutty shit you’d found.
“Can’t sleep?” You distracted him with the question, then slid a glass of milk in front of him. Regardless of what he said, he’d glanced at those cookies twice. 
This was an opportunity, you thought. A chance to get into his head, see what the fuck made him tick.   
Soldier Boy eyed the milk, then you. After a moment, he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He didn’t answer your question, and instead asked one of his own.
“How’d you get caught up with Butcher?” he asked. 
You smiled behind your glass. It seemed he was curious about you too. 
“I work at Supe Affairs.” That was easy enough for you to admit. And if he was smart, he would’ve had Frank run a background check on you. 
Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah, I figured that fucking much. Doesn’t answer my fucking question.”
So damn rude. You wanted to sigh. 
“I help run surveillance,” you said. But before he could ask his next predictable question, you continued, “Grace Mallory recruited me because I was a private investigator…and like you, I worked at Vought for a while.”
His attention piqued at that. 
“Though your tenure was a bit before my time,” you couldn’t help a light jab. 
His lips curved again. “Why’d you take a job you couldn’t hope to win? You got some vendetta against me, like Butcher?”
You arched a brow, watching him shove another cookie into his mouth. If anyone had a vendetta against him it was M.M., but trust Soldier Boy to conveniently forget murdering the man’s grandfather.
“You’re asking if I’m obsessed with you? I think not,” you said with a genuine chuckle, then sipped at your milk with some decency. Unlike your companion, who already had a pile of soggy crumbs on the counter beneath him.
Soldier Boy shot you a frown, and his eyes said he didn’t believe you. He sat back in his chair, his jean-clad legs falling open casually. His gaze on you, however, was anything but. You wouldn’t admit it, but it made heat creep up the back of your neck.
“Really?” he said. “‘Cause I gotta tell ya, sweetheart. During your slutty little seduction act, you were pretty fucking responsive.”
He rubbed his palms slow down his thighs, like he could still feel yours wrapped around his hips and grinding your hot core against his slacks. 
You stared back at him as your lips pressed together. 
Soldier Boy tilted his head at you, his smile turning smug. “The filthy sounds I was getting outta you…”
You set down your glass on the counter. Reaching for another cookie, you rested your elbows on the counter and leveled him with a teasing smile of your own. 
“Unlike you, Ben, I’m a good actor,” you replied. 
His brow twitched at that, however subtle. You couldn’t tell if using his real name annoyed him, or if it just added to the game you two were playing. But it felt right, stripping him of at least that façade. 
He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t even a superhero, really. He was just a man. 
Albeit, a super fucking strong one with an ego the size of Empire State. But a man. The same kind you’d dealt with all your life. 
And he crossed his arms, like he was starting to lose his patience with you. 
“Then why’d you come out here?” 
Munching on a dry chocolate chip, you answered, “To get paid. Why else?” 
Again, it didn’t look like he believed you. 
“You don’t look the type,” he said.
“Don’t I?” you said. He seemed to know you were holding something back, but not willing to admit he wanted to know it. 
And you weren’t willing to give it to him. He didn’t need to know that you’d taken this job to support your family. Because what the hell would he know about family? 
…But at the same time, his curiosity just made it all the clearer: in whatever small way, you’d piqued his interest. He wanted to figure you out. 
And maybe that was the real reason you were still alive. 
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It started to happen like that more often.
Midnight snacks, as you’d continued to call it in your head. When you couldn’t take being alone with your thoughts (or being alone at all), if you made your way to the kitchen you often found Ben.
Whatever was keeping him awake, he seemed to crave the company as you rifled through the pantry. From alfajores, macarons, and chips, to the entire leftover ham from dinner, he often smoked a large blunt and ate whatever you found. 
You’d taken a hit once when he offered, but the shit was so strong than you abstained afterwards. You wanted to be in your fully right mind around him.
And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.)
“In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.” 
You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.” 
You also talked about the movies he missed out on. The ones you thought he’d probably enjoy, like the Terminator sequels and Liam Neeson’s Taken (if only for the sheer irony). And all the while, he asked you probing questions he likely thought were subtle. 
“What did you do at Vought?” he asked over chips and salsa. 
You thought the salsa was a bit too spicy, but he was lapping it up. It both amused and disgusted you. 
Until he licked some of it off his fingers. Catching your gaze, his became mischievous. He slid his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene noise. All the while, his deep green eyes held yours. 
You would never admit to being turned on, but you felt your cheeks warming up as you fought not to react, watching the juices drip down his fingers.
“I ran down criminals for the supes to ‘catch’ them,” you managed to reply. “They just got to do the sweeping in part.”
“Lazy shits,” he remarked, licking off the remaining salsa from his hand. You tried not to focus on the sight of his tongue. Afterwards, he gave you reprieve by wiping his hands on a paper towel.
What the fuck is wrong with me? You inwardly shook your head at yourself. 
“Back in my day, we actually ran down our own leads,” he said. “Sure, we got tips every now and then, but we did our own busts.”
You didn’t know how much of that you could believe, considering he’d never even fought in World War II, despite his numerous claims of pounding Nazis up the ass.  
“How’d you end up there, anyway?” he asked. 
“Vought paid more than private practice,” you wryly replied. 
He eyed you then. “And before?”
Before? Was he just bored, or did he genuinely want to know about your life? 
Still, this was starting to veer into things you’d rather not talk about.  
“Worked for my dad’s P.I. firm,” you said, making an effort to untighten your spine. “I learned what I know from him.”
That much was the truth, though you hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. 
Ben chortled, making you frown. “‘A’ for fucking effort there, sweetheart.”
You huffed. Yes, you did realize the irony of being kidnapped by the man you’d hunted down (sort of). Didn’t mean he had to be such an asshole about it.
“He must be fucking proud,” he added. Your gaze sharpened with irritation. 
“Like your dad was proud of you?” out came your pointed reply, before you could stop yourself.  
His amusement faded, likely as he stared back at you and saw that you knew for a fact what he’d told Butcher.
A fucking disappointment.
He didn’t bother lying, but his lip curled into a sneer. 
“Be careful, sweetheart,” he warned. You heard the underlying threat in his voice. You forced yourself to keep your mouth shut, lowering your eyes. The act was grating on you, boiling your blood.
But it seemed to mollify him enough. He let out a low chuckle. 
“I’ll let that one go,” he said. “Next time, I might not be so fucking nice.”
You believed him. 
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It was a week of this, before you finally found out the hard way where Ben’s room was. 
You were wandering down a long hallway on the second floor, over in the west wing of the house. Your room was in the east, so you really hadn’t seen this side of the mansion before. The problem was, all these halls were looking the same to you. 
And now you had no idea how to get back to the main hall, where by now you could navigate downstairs to the kitchen, the back garden, the pool hall, a study room (with several shelves of books), a gym, and even an indoor movie theater. 
Suddenly, you thought you heard a woman’s voice, high and giggly. What the hell?
Your natural curiosity led you farther down the hall, where you could see light and movement beneath the closed door. Whatever (and whoever) was in there, you really should just let it be. 
You’d been able to successfully avoid Ben for the past few days, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the headache of another encounter with him—for as long as you could manage it.
So you were just about to turn back and keep on your merry way.  
But when you heard a slap, followed by a feminine cry of pain, you halted in your step. With your brows crunching in concern, you couldn’t help but approach the door again. You leaned in to listen.
Another slap, another pained mewling from the girl. Your mouth turned down in an angry frown of alarm. 
What the fuck is going on? You didn’t know what kind of sick shit he was into, but if he was hurting some poor girl for his own entertainment, you knew you couldn’t just walk away. 
After one more second of hesitation, you gripped the door handle and shoved it open. 
What you found seared your eyes. 
In unblinking shock, you took in the shambled state of Ben’s room. Clothes strewn haphazardly about, remnants of lines of coke on the coffee table, plates of half-eaten delicacies left on a wheeled in buffet, bottles of liquor, half-empty glasses and shots rolling around. 
And a California king bed occupied the center, where the sheets and pillows had fallen off while Soldier Boy fucked no less than five prostitutes. All looked to be of various ethnicities and a wide age range. The oldest of them looked saggy enough to be in her seventies, but she was working as hard and skillfully as the rest of them.  
One of the younger ones, maybe around your age, was getting spanked by one of his large hands while another girl’s head bobbed over his lap with gusto. The other three were finding things to do, whether on the man himself, or to each other in front of him on the bed. 
In reality, you probably took all this in for just a few seconds. 
But a gasp fell unbidden from your lips, along with a “Jesus fucking Christ!”
Ben looked like he had been working up a mild sweat. Broken from his concentration though, he glanced up at you. And then the broadest, Cheshire cat fucking grin spread across his face. 
“Hey, baby doll,” he greeted mischievously. “You here to join in? Here, tag in for, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”
He looked down and grabbed the shoulder of the girl in his lap. She released his cock out of her mouth for a second to answer, “Jasmine.”
“Sure,” he said with a nod. Then he frowned and gestured to his still rock-hard dick. Your eyes widened in shock—both at the audacity, and at the size of it. You blushed hotly.
“But don’t fucking stop now, Jesus,” he said to the girl. And he looked over at you with a raised brow. “Unless you wanna jump in…but seriously, don’t make me wait all fuckin’ day here.”
Your face contorted in disgust. 
“There’s not enough fucking therapy for this,” you muttered. 
Then you fled the room, slamming the door behind you so hard that it rattled. It still didn’t muffle his laughter behind the door. 
Your face, neck, and the tips of your ears were on fire as you hastened down the hall. 
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By the time you got to the kitchen, you could even hear your rapid heartbeat in your ears. You set a hand over your chest and felt the thump, thump, thumping under your palm. 
Images continued to flash through your mind—naked flesh, bouncing tits, shockingly adept wrinkled hands. And then the man’s chiseled bare form, planes of tanned skin over muscle, and strong-looking hands.  
Fucking hell. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of your brain’s ongoing loop, but it was a losing battle. With a long and frustrated sigh, you reached into the fridge and grabbed all the ingredients you needed to make a damn sandwich. 
You knew Ben had hired a personal chef (Simone, you thought her name was), but you were pretty sure she was currently part of the service the supe entourage today. 
You slapped together a turkey and provolone sandwich with some lettuce, mayo, and a pickle for added “razzle dazzle.” 
Though on second thought, you put the pickle back. 
With an aggravated huff, you stood at the counter and tore into your dinner (you were too angry to sit at this point). You devoured half of it and nearly a whole bag of Doritos by the time that cocky bastard strolled in like the cat that got the cream, and clearly, more than once.
He looked freshly showered, and finally clothed in casual pants and a buttoned down shirt, rolled up on the sleeves.
Ben eyed you with a smirk. You raised a brow at him. 
“That was fast,” you remarked. “I expected you to be in that fuck dungeon all night.” 
“I wouldn’t call it a dungeon,” he said, leaning on the other side of the counter opposite you. “More like a cellar of fine delectables.”
You snorted. “All right, Hugh Hefner. I want to scrub my eyes with bleach.”
“Didn’t look that way from where I was sitting, doll face,” he quipped. His brow rose at you with a salacious, curling smile. You leveled him with a look. 
“At the very least, you would’ve ended that little dry spell of yours,” he added playfully. 
Your gaze sharpened at that. You dropped your sandwich on the plate to glare at him. “Excuse me?”
“What’s it been?” he asked, leaning closer into your personal space with a more knowing grin. “Don’t really fucking tell me it’s been three years since somebody’s laid you out right.”
Despite your outrage at his audacity, your mouth fell open the slightest bit. 
“What…”
Again, he eyed your form, and not subtly at that. Today you’d found a pair of jeans that you’d managed to squeeze into. The polo shirt clinging to your waist and ribs and tight across your breasts wasn’t helping you either.
But you were honestly surprised he could still be looking at you like that when he’d just been doing some Olympic-level fucking. 
Your spine tightened nervously when he straightened to his full height, walking around the kitchen counter towards you. His hand slid across the surface, his head tilting at you in amusement. 
“It’s amazing what you can hear on shitty hotel roofs,” he said. 
Your eyes widened when you understood what he was getting at. When you were on the phone with your sister… 
“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa had said. “And finally put an end to that three-year goddamn dry spell.”
And that prickly feeling you’d felt then, licking up your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck…
“You were watching me,” you realized.  
Ben just looked down on you with a deepening smirk. His green eyes were alight with mischief, and yeah, probably lust too.   
“You fucking creep,” you said, with both a sigh and a roll of your eyes (despite your growing blush). 
He chuckled and raised a hand to lightly grip your chin. “That’s not very nice.”
You glared up at him, too angry and stubborn to remember to mind your temper. He seemed to like it though, working you up. He teased and prodded you enough, almost like a little boy trying to get a girl’s attention. Except this one was the most powerful supe alive.
So why does he like it so much, this stupid cat and mouse thing?
Not for the first time, you wondered why he decided to keep you around. And you had a feeling it wasn’t just to bait your friends. Maybe he just liked toying with you, seeing how far he could push until you snapped.
And then what? you wondered. 
Though if you were honest with yourself…you were just as into this little game as he was, albeit for different reasons. You wanted to understand him. 
At first, it was the job. Know the man you’re after.
But now, it was more. Knowing Soldier Boy, getting to know Ben would be the key to making it out of this situation alive. You just knew it…if only he didn’t make it so damn frustrating. 
“Seriously, tell me,” he said, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes. 
“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched?” he asked. “‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a crying shame.”
For a moment, your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt a hot blush rising in your cheeks, down your neck…and maybe warmth between your legs at the mere suggestion.
You inwardly steeled yourself, clamping down on your anger and your embarrassment. Instead, you leveled him with a cool smile. 
“Not forty years, I’ll tell you that,” you said. 
While he raised a brow, he let you slowly push his hand away. You left him in the kitchen soon after, but he watched you go. Whether you meant to or not, the sway in your hips and your delectable ass in those tight fucking jeans made his dick twitch. 
Figures, he thought, that you’d get all fucking huffy. He shrugged and picked up half the sandwich you left behind. 
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You found nothing else for your frustration but to head outside.
With a sigh, you sat down at the edge of the massive pool and just dipped your legs in. You didn’t have a swimsuit, and you didn’t want to take any chances by getting your clothes wet around here. Or even worse, stripping down to your bra and underwear. 
You blushed at the memory of Ben’s proximity, his touch, his rich, teasing voice that dripped with lustful promise. And that just reminded you of the scenes from his room, which flashed in your mind every so often like a bad porno. 
Shit. You absently bit at one of your nails. Ben had also heard that entire conversation with your sister. That meant he knew about her, and that gave you no small amount of anxiety. 
But he already had you. He hadn’t tried to extort you for anything (yet). You knew though, that if he threatened Luisa, or tried to use her to manipulate you in any way, there wasn’t much you could do but play along, like everything else. 
Right now, anyway… 
You noticed a dark shape out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment you were annoyed, ready to tell Ben to give you a moment’s peace. 
But it wasn’t him. It was Tony standing near the end of the pool. He must’ve been freed from desk duty, or whatever Ben had him doing while he presumably recovered from his injuries.
“What up, Tony?” you greeted, unable to resist a teasing smile when you noticed the large boot for his broken foot. Now plus a few extra bruises from your last tussle. They were dark, but yellowing around the edges. 
His lips twitched at a cold smile. “They’re letting the little mouse out of her room now?”
You shrugged, smirking.
“You look good,” you replied. “How’re the balls though? Still broken?”
Tony expression tightened into a glare. “You better watch it, bitch.”
“Or what?” you challenged.  
There was enough distance between you and him across the pool for you to feel comfortable, but really, you weren’t too afraid of Tony.
Yeah, he was a dick. But you’d taken him down before. You could literally break his balls again if he needed more encouragement to fuck off. 
Tony just smirked back at you, deciding to leave you alone for now. You watched him head back into the house with sharp eyes. He wouldn’t take you by surprise again.
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Frank was waiting for you when you got back to your room. You were more relieved to see him than you’d like to admit, and you greeted him with a genuine smile, before you noticed the shopping bags in his hands. 
“What’s this?” you asked. Frank dutifully handed you the bags, and inside you found new clothes. They actually seemed to be your size. 
You looked up at Frank, both shocked and grateful. “You got me clothes?”
“Boss’s orders,” he revealed. Your brows rose high at that. 
“He told you to do this?”
Frank expelled a breath through his nose, hesitating, like he was debating how to frame his reply.
“He provided them,” he said. It felt like a confession, one that made your eyes widen at the implication.
Soldier Boy bought you new clothes? 
You didn’t know how to compute on this one, honestly. But you still answered with a tentative, “Oh. Well…thanks.”
He nodded, and soon left you with your thoughts and your spoils. You went into your room and dumped the bags onto the bed so you could examine their contents. 
There were casual shirts and yoga pants, a couple pairs of jeans, some sneakers, thank God. All the bras and panties, however, were lacey and expensive.
You shook your head with a smile, eyeing the labels. This man really went to Victoria’s Secret to buy you new underwear. 
It was both kind and somewhat sleazy, knowing he was going to be imagining you in the sexy, but admittedly tasteful lingerie. 
The “kind” part took you by surprise though. The clothes overall weren’t revealing or obnoxious. Even the underwear and bras were in styles you’d probably wear, under normal circumstances. 
So you put together an outfit out of one of the shirts and a pair of jeans, breathing a sigh of relief when you could peel the old ones off. 
This was a far cry from bullying and annoying you, and generally being an arrogant son of a bitch. 
The truth was, Ben was confusing you.
Perhaps now more than ever. 
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AN: 🤭 Well, one would argue that she saw more sides of Ben than she thought she would (or wanted to). 😜
Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Things are definitely going to ramp up in the next one...
Keep Reading: PART 6
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
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undercoverpena · 7 months
Note
PEEPAW JOEL THOTS???!
oh gosh, this one makes me a touch nervous ⬇️
joel miller x f!reader warnings: smut, p in v, roof sex, injured!joel, sneaking around bill and franks, female and male receiving head.
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🔥 think he has sex with you on the rooftop of some old building, maybe it used to be a library or a hotel, it’s not romantic but it becomes it, because he takes a second to appreciate how vast everything is, and you keep rutting your ass into him as you stare off. maybe the sun is peered out from the clouds, after you asked if they could stop a second, and he doesn’t want to but he relents, and then he sorta sees a speckle of what you do. the world from here almost looks normal, and then his hands come to your hips, halting you from backing into him, grunting an “enough.” and you shoot him a smirk over your shoulder, and fuck, like this, it’s photograph worthy. which is why he suspects he doesn’t actually stop you from moving your hips, just tells you to lean over the brick/railing, peeling your jeans down as he wets his hand with his spit as he slides it between your thighs, murmuring close to your ear that it's a "good view."
🔥 he's hurt his arm after coming into contact with another person/group, and you fuss, trying to clean it and he stops you, tells you it’s fine, "m'not even hurt". but he can see you're chewing your lip, fingers holding your chin, "I’d do it all again to keep you safe" and you just stare (because the two of you don't talk like this, it's all under the surface, displayed in actions rather than words). so you just crash your lips to his, his good hand pulling you onto his lap. mouth sliding down your neck as you undo his jeans, tells him if he’s not even hurt, he can make you feel good. and the man is nothing but determined, “you think I can't fuck you right when I’m hurt, huh?” him teasing you before telling you to climb on top, you sinking down on him, breath punched from your lungs as you take him to the root, "you can take it" talking you through it even if he’s the one hissing if he moves his arm. and your breath is all ragged as you get closer and closer, clothes still coated in some fuckers blood, his knuckles split, teeth gritted. and your eyes meet his as his hand grips your hip, both sharing a similar thought: i'd do anything to keep you fucking alive
🔥 you winding him up one day about how he looks miserable (more than normal), tiredness likely a factor, his bones weary, needing rest. so you offer to take him in your mouth after a shower back in some river. your fingers wrapping around his length, telling him to lie back, make a pillow from your jacket, asking if you can look after him, beads of water falling down his gruff, frowning face. “maybe my mouth can put a smile on your face.” and he shakes his head, “what y'mouth magical?” and you smirk, because he doesn't remember that time early on when he'd taken a pill and mixed it with booze that he'd said something similar. so she just sighs, “actually, someone did once tell me it’s life changing.” and he just licks his lips, nodding at you to go on.
🔥 I think when you make it to Jackson, the first night you're both alone is so different than back in the QZ, than the woods, than rooftops and everything in between. it’s the kind of sex that he’d have given you if the world hadn’t gone to shit and he’d met you in a bar. he takes his time, spends so long working you up, earning each moan you will give him before he can even consider burying himself in you. he's on his knees for you, even if his body protests, even if tomorrow his entire body will ache from how good tonight will be. but he knows it'll be worth it. even more as you coat his cock, desperate, needy, leaving fingerprint bruises on his skin that develop when he collapses beside you.
🔥 so, imagine staying over at bill & frank’s after enjoying some food, and a storm is rolling in, and Frank insists, but Bill hates it—insists on two separate rooms. but before you can sneak into Joel’s he sneaks into yours. hand over your mouth as you giggle, telling you that you’re gonna have to be real quiet. “not like you to break the rules, miller.” But then you teasing him about it not being gentlemanly trying to sneak into a lady’s room. “stopped being a gentlemen a while ago.” his fingers snaking inside your underwear. “c’mon baby you know how to be quiet. good enough when we’re surrounded by clickers. how’s this any different?” your panting, hand on his wrist as you pull it down to whisper, “you’re not usually doing this when we’re surrounded by clickers.” and the two of you are already on the floor, pillows and blankets surrounding them as he kisses down your body, sliding his mouth over your pussy as your hand darts into his curls. his fingers pinching your inner thigh when you make too much noise, sucks on the pulse point on your neck asa you catch your breath. begins leaving marks under the space underneath your breasts, a reminder of him there, that he's had you like this when he catches you stripping and changing, before he sinks into you. THE ABOVE ONE CONT: 👉👈 because i think I want to write this... the surroundings are so normal, he’s able to trick himself that this is like olden times. I think when you sit on his lap, he’d lift your hand from his chest at one point, kiss your knuckles—all tender, soft. before he places your hand back and rests his hands on your hips, aiding her. and I think they’d remain on the floor for a while after. him just stroking your cheek, you just lay on his chest, the storm still heavy. both lost in some make believe land that this is their house, and that maybe it’s just a night where they can’t sleep, rather than it being a night where they just feel safe (whatever that even means) and there’s so much hanging in the air, so many words they never speak, but they're safe, and together, and for both of them that's all that matters.
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i cannot believe i have thotted so much in the last 24 hours.
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bubuslutty · 1 year
Text
Frankie loves his girl
pairing: Frank castle x fem!reader
word count: 843 words
tags: nsfw brain rot, p in v, male receiving, female receiving, size difference, stomach bulge, possessive frankie, obsessive frankie, he loves his girl very much, clothed sex, blowjobs, car sex, reader is mostly refered to as 'his girl' or pet names such as darling & angel, use of the words pussy and cock, Frank spits in her mouth heh & other nasty tags okay
warnings: under 18s pls dni, overuse of the word 'love', I wrote this on my phone so I'm sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my first language as well. also this is my first fic posted on tumblr. pls be nice :(
summary: Frank loves his girl very much. He loves her mind and heart, but also her cute ass and sweet pussy.
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Frank's the type to live in a cottage, maybe in the woods, with his girl. He's the type of man that would wake up early, kiss his sleeping baby and go walk around the property, checking everything just to make sure nothing happened overnight.
Frank knows they're safe, he made sure of it, getting rid of anyone who'd hurt his girl and their peace.
But he still has to do it, his little daily morning walk, to ease his soul.
Yeah, he's protecting his girl, she's safe because of him, happy because of him, and that makes him unbelievably happy, knowing she can sleep as much as she can, without having to worry about a thing.
Oh, how much he loves his girl.
She's his girl. Even thinking about it gives him butterflies and a hard cock. She's his, and nothing has sounded so good before.
He loves her so so much. He loves her smart words, her creative mind and her heart.
He's so in love with how she speaks to him, how she isn't scared of teasing him, of playing with him and being a little bratty. She's so smart and fun and beautiful in every sense.
Frank loves her mouth, her plush lips and tongue, he loves that he gets to kiss her everyday, loves that he gets to spit in her mouth and watch her eyes get all glazed over.
Frank loves her hands, loves holding them and kissing them. He loves it when she gives him back scratches, when they're lounging on the couch. He loves her hands when they're wrapped around his hard cock. And Frank's big, he's big. And every time his angel has her hands around him, the size difference makes him breathless, makes him cum almost instantly.
He loves her soft skin, running his rough hands all over her soft body. Her breasts, stomach, back, ass, thighs, neck, everywhere. He's obsessed and starved every time he lays his eyes on her.
It's embarrassing really, how every time he looks at her, his body reminds him of the nights and days he spent between her legs, either dick, hand or face buried inside of her sweet pussy.
And she's so wet, always so wet for him. Her thighs sticky and her pussy dripping for him.
She doesn't even wear panties that much anymore when he's around. Sometimes it's thigh length summer dresses with cardigans, tight cropped shirts and short shorts that would expose the bottom of her ass when she stretches, barely decent enough to wear out in public.
All she wears is clothes that Frank can easily take off, slide his hands in to wander on her skin and grope her. And even if she wore something hard to take off, they both know he wouldn't hesitate to rip it off.
Fuck clothes, he wants to see his girl naked and pretty under him.
His girl is beautiful no matter what she wears or looks like. Frank loves her in anything and everything. But he does have preferences, after all, he's just a man.
He likes her in just one of his t-shirts, with absolutely nothing underneath. He loves her wrapped in his coat, wearing a stupidly tight t-shirt and shorts underneath. He likes seeing his girl show off her body for him. Especially when nobody else is around to look at what is his.
He loves fucking her while she's wearing one of those stupid tight white t-shirts she likes to wear, the cropped ones, that leave her stomach naked, with no bra underneath. Her sweat, and his sweat would make the fabric obscenely see through, making her nipples visible. And if he's feeling in a certain mood, he might just cum on her chest, over her t-shirt and on the lower half of her face while his girl is crying and cock drunk.
Frank loves shoving his hands in her shorts, through one of the leg holes, groping her ass and squeezing. You see, he's a possessive fucker and he likes to touch, a lot.
He loves feeling her shake and throb, clench and shiver. He likes to see her beg for his cock and try to swallow him while being all messy on his lap, his balls wet from her saliva. He loves it when she grinds her sweet little ass against his crotch, smiling coyly up at him. He loves folding her while he fucks her to the point of passing out, so hard that he'd be able to see her tummy bulge from the size of his cock.
He loves having her on his lap, in his truck, holding onto the hat he placed on her head while riding him, moaning and babbling nonsense while his cock is splitting her in half. Shorts thrown at the back and panties held in one of his hands.
Frank loves his girl and her sweet pussy very much. And he'd kill anyone with his bare hands if they try to take her away from him <3
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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year
Text
Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 1
Read on AO3 [x]
Pairing: Thranduil/Fem Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Note: This is x reader but I have given ‘you’ a name. Also I needed Radagast for this story but I think technically she’d have been born before he even arrived but let’s just ignore that. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. Translations: lothíriel (flower-garlanded maiden) anarórë (sunrise) vanwa (lost) aranel (princess) melui (lovely)
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“Lothíriel!” Radagast cried out the nickname he had called you since you were but a babe in his arms, standing at the door of his little cottage deep in the forest of Mirkwood. His fingers curled around his wooden staff as he looked this way and that, brows furrowed with just the mildest hint of frustration. He was rather used to this song and dance by now. You would seemingly go missing from right under his large nose, sneaking off through the trees to mingle with the wildlife and sing to the flowers. You were a daughter of the forest, sure enough, and there was seemingly nothing that Radagast could do to keep you in check. Not that he would ever wish to dampen your spirit or dim your light, but it was his job to keep you safe and sound, after all. Keep you... hidden.
A great many years had passed since the days when this task had been appointed to him. Since that fateful day of your birth in Lindon when the Enchantress had dared show her face, laying ruin to all that could have been for you. Then the darker days that followed still. The Last Alliance. Your father, High King Gil-Galad, being slain by Sauron himself, alongside King Oropher. Dark days, indeed.
You knew nothing of any of this and that was how Radagast intended to keep it. For now. You were i vanwa aranel, as the tales told, the lost princess... and you needed to remain that way for at least another thousand years or so yet. When the full danger of the Enchantress was no longer a danger to you.
“Anarórë!” Radagast called again, using the name that you had been given just before being smuggled from Lindon under the cover of darkness. Your name was the only thing your father had been able to give you and he had gifted you the name that his beloved Queen had longed to bestow upon you - naming you after her most favourite time of day - before she was killed by the evil Enchantress that was to blame for your being out here and not in the halls of a palace as was your birthright.
“Ooh!” Radagast shook his head, turning to the bird on his shoulder with a worried expression as he heaved a sigh. He was always prone to concern, especially when you were not within his line of eyesight. “Now where has she gotten to!”
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You were rather far away from the cottage where you had grown up, and from your uncle Radagast, whom you loved with your entire being but who could at times, to be quite frank, drive you rather mad. He made such a big deal of keeping you safe but some days it could feel like you were suffocating. Like treading water and never being able to move forwards. Some days it seemed that he would have enchanted the cottage to keep you inside at all times if he could. Still, you knew that he simply loved you and wished to keep you from harm.
The Greenwood was beginning to change, even you could feel that. There were pockets of thick, suffocating darkness and you could have sworn that once you saw a spider. Not just any spider but the largest spider you had ever seen in your whole life. It was said that the Elvenking was preparing to lead his people further north across the forest river due to this growing shadow.
Despite being an elf yourself, you had never met any of the wood elves that lived under the Elvenking’s rule. In truth, you did not even know the King’s name. You had watched a few of them in secret but you had never dared approach them. Radagast had always explicitly told you never to speak to strangers and something about the look in his eyes made you realise that he had some genuine reason and you followed that rule rather explicitly.
Still, you did not understand why, for how could you? How could you know that evil could take the fairest of forms to trick you into its clutches? How could you know that such evils were indeed looking for you? Actively seeking you out all over this world and had been since your birth? Radagast kept your history from you to keep you safe. As far as anybody need know, you were naught but a simple elf-maid dwelling beneath the trees of the Greenwood.
Still, it could be lonely, and you often imagined yourself outing your own presence and being welcomed into the fray of others of your kind. You adored your uncle, you truly did, and you loved your life in these woods with the wizard - but some days only conversing and interacting with him and the squirrels could become quite tiresome in a sense.
“Hey!” You laughed, lifting your gaze as a little robin gently tugged on strands of your hair from where it hovered in the air beside your head. Your thoughts melted away as you turned your focus to the little creature, suddenly realising that it was not alone. A group of familiar little animals were lined up on a nearby tree branch, looking down at you rather expectantly.
“There you are!” You chuckled, moving closer and reaching out to run your fingers through some of their fur and feathers. “I was beginning to think that you had all decided to abandon me this day!”
The animals tittered and shifted, little sounds coming from some of them as they shook their heads in dismay, eager to let you know that they would never! This little group of beasts made up some of your closest friends in this wood and a lot of days you would meet them in the clearing and pass your afternoon together.
“Oh, I am only teasing.” You laughed brightly, moving over to sit upon a fallen log, gazing up at the sky.
One of the birds began chirping and you turned to look at them, shaking your head a little as they told you Radagast was looking for you. “Well, I am not ready to go back yet.” You replied. “I have barely been out of the house in the last few days.” Another little chatter from the bird came, telling you he was worried there were strangers in the woods, and you shook your head. “He needn’t bother. Even when there is, I do not approach them. Does he not trust me? Sometimes he treats me as thought I am still a child!”
A soft silence fell upon the clearing, all your little friends looking sad as they contemplated your words, your loneliness. Even they seemed to know that even though you had them, and even though you had Radagast, perhaps it wasn’t always enough.
“Come on now!” You chuckled, brightening a little. “Let us not dwell on all of that. I will go back soon, I promise. He will not start to truly panic for another while yet.” You knew him well enough to know that you had some time to spare before he came charging through the trees with his trusty rabbit sled. “Come, keep me company while I pick some berries. Tonight I am going to make some more cakes!”
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A distance away through the trees, a large brown elk was moving at a gentle trot. Astride him sat a lone rider, shoulders straight and guard up just slightly. His long white hair was cascading down his shoulders, free of any elaborate adornments, and as he rode he looked about him, studying the forest.
King Thranduil was travelling alone, something that he did not always do anymore, but his trusty swords were at his side and he knew that, if necessary, his elk could outrun any dangers that they may come upon. If he did not get them first. There was a shadow falling somewhere, he could sense it, but it was still faint and with any luck it would stay that way.
Thranduil turned his attention to the path ahead of him as he moved through the forest, aware that he would have to turn back soon and return to his realm. There was a lot to do, many preparations to make, however he had been rather needing a little bit of peace and quiet. He could defend himself well enough and it had been some time since he had been able to be truly alone. He had a heavy weight on his shoulders and he had since his father, Oropher, had fallen to Sauron, leaving him to rule. Thus the Prince had become the King overnight and, while Thranduil had often had an urge to flee and hide, it was not a whim that he would give into.
As his elk moved through the trees, Thranduil suddenly became aware of a sound filtering through all the other woodland noises. It wasn’t exactly close by and it appeared to be coming from somewhere to his right, which was not the direction he needed to go, but he found himself pulled towards it somehow.
It was somebody singing, he realised, and he normally would have simply smiled and left them to it but it was such a beautfiful melody, a voice the likes of which he was not sure he had ever heard before in all his years - and Thranduil had heard a lot of singing in his lifetime.
“Melui...” He murmured to himself, lost in the beautiful tune for a few moments before he stirred again and urged his elk to the right, struck by the sudden desire to find whoever could produce such a sweet sound.
“Come on, my friend... this way." He directed to his elk as he gently tugged the reins to redirect the beast, heading off in the direction of the singing, not caring if it was perhaps a little out of his way as his curiosity got the better of him.
His elk snorted, disgruntled at going off track, though it reminded the animal a little of the prince of old and it easily gave in, shaking its large head as it trundled off through the trees in the direction its master commanded.
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konigsblog · 9 months
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8,9,13,14,15,16 need some good hate sex with frank woods 🤌🏻
HATE SEX WITH FRANK WOODS
⭒ degradation, choking, slapping.. general rough sex
༉‧₊˚. prompt list minors dni, please !!!
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you'd gotten into a huge argument, resulting in screaming matches that lasted hours, 'til your throat was strained and sore from yelling so loudly. eventually, you'd decided to fuck your anger out on eachother, releasing some steam. yet, neither of you wanted to admit fault, resulting in a rough fucking.
frank's hand collided with your cheek, slapping your roughly across the face, the string spreading across your face as you degraded him - insulting, offensive and harsh words thrown in his face, biting your lips to suppress your moans. you didn't want him to know how much he was pleasuring you, legs wrapped around his waist and pulling him in closer as he pumps his hard, throbbing cock into your slick pussy.
your hand grabs at his neck, pulling him down to slap him across the face, insulting him relentlessly as he sped up his ruthless pace. “you're a fuckin' slut, sweethear'-fuckin' cunt, admit you're in the wrong and we'll get this over with already'.” he growled out, voice harsh and unforgiving, broad hips smacking against your tight ass with his heavy balls slapping against your skin.
applying pressure onto his throat and strangling him with both your hands, feeling as he slams into you with a rough pace, gritting his teeth with a burning rage filling his veins. “you're a fuckin' asshole, you never –aghfuck,- take responsibility-shit– for your own actions!!” you stuttered through hidden moans, voice rough and scratchy as you felt him fuck into your tight hole. juices flowing around his thick dick, tip leaking and drooling as he ruined you.
the stretch ached, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slapped you repeatedly, smacking your head from side to side, bound to be bruised in a few days. you felt tears form in your waterline before you began scratching and choking him harder, his breaths becoming more shallow. slapping while choking eachother, gasping while your breaths become shallow and quiet, eyes shut tightly as you came around him unexpectedly, too distracted by the hand wrapped around your throat.
frank threw his head back while your walls spam around him, tightening against his throbbing dick, shooting sticky and pearly seed into your hole, sticking to your walls as you clutched onto his size. gasping for air as he left go, allowing you to breathe. you felt as he pulled out, easing away from your raw pussy, rubbing your sensitive clit to get you squirting onto his lower abdomen, whining and mewling quietly as you panted.
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banner credit; @cafekitsune
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rascal-xo · 1 year
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i swear i’m not ignoring anyone’s requests i’m getting to all of them i promise 😭
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itwasthereaminuteago · 7 months
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|| Lost and Found ||
Frank Castle x female reader
Tags/warnings: meetcute! With dogs!
Oral (f rec), beardburn, coming in pants (m) 😍, written for the @bernthirst-events #beardthalbash, thanks to @darlingshane and @anna-hawk for organising!
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"Midge! Miiiidge!" Your voice echoes through the endless trees as you call out again and again, listening hopefully for the familiar thunder of paws on the leafy undergrowth coming back toward you, but there was nothing but the muted twitter of birds. "Midge, come!" You shout again, your voice starting to tremble with worry as you walk hurriedly along the forestry path. The light was beginning to fade earlier in these shortening autumn evenings, and it would soon be impossible to find your runaway pup. You take out your phone, dismayed to see the signal nonexistent out this deep in the woods.
"C'mon Midge! Midge, please come back!" The back of your throat is rough from yelling and your eyes are glistening with tears. You couldn't go home, you had to keep looking for her.
"Miiiidge?!" You tried again, and stopped in your tracks as you heard a rustling nearby, but it was just a blackbird rummaging in the leaf litter.
"Oh Midge…" you croak out more quietly, still holding her broken lead tightly in your fist. You cursed yourself for not replacing it sooner after she had been chewing it, for not buying a stronger one. You were so wrapped up in your own admonishment that you jumped out of your skin when someone walked up the track behind you.
"Ma'am, if you don't mind me askin', are you alright?"
You turned and were met with the figure of a large bearded man. He kept his distance when he realised he had given you a bit of a fright, giving you time to take in the fact that he was wearing a dark green shirt with the park ranger logo embroidered on it along with utility pants and sturdy walking boots. His eyes were dark and he was looking at you kindly.
"I'm Frank, I'm a ranger. I heard you yelling, can I help?" He asks, and you find yourself stuttering over your words, partly in relief that someone else was around, and someone who hopefully knew these woods a lot better than you.
"It's- it's my dog, she… oh, I've been searching and calling for her for hours, she broke her lead when she saw a squirrel and bolted after it! I couldn't catch her in time and she's just- she's just a pup!" You sniffle as your eyes keep flitting around to look through the trees. "I can't find her, she doesn't know this part of the woods that well, I can't leave her alone out there."
The ranger nods and steps a little bit closer. "Alright, I know that you're worried about her, but this sorta thing happens a lot. I'm gonna help you to find her best I can. Can you give me a description? An' I heard you callin' out 'Midge', s'that right?"
You wipe at your damp eyes, nodding. "She's a border collie, black and white. She's 8 months but she's small for her age."
"Okay ma'am, do you remember when and where you last saw her? I'll radio my team and we'll be able to have more eyes and ears lookin' out for Midge okay?" His voice is low and authoritative but soft with it, and your tears soon stop as you're distracted by the way he goes straight into action.
"Back over the ridge near the fire pass, I think it was about two hours ago…" you tell him.
Frank unclips his radio from his belt and relays all the information, getting confirmation from a variety of voices shortly after.
"Okay, let's take a walk back that way huh? You got some treats or somethin' with you?"
You fall into step beside him, grasping the bag of mini bone biscuits from your pocket. "Yeah."
He smiles. "That's good. Those her favourite, huh?"
"Yeah. But she just loves any food really."
You pick a few out hoping that Midge might be able to smell them from wherever she is and her greedy stomach might lead her back to you.
Frank nods. "Is she alright with guys? I know some dogs don't like a man with a beard, can scare em sometimes."
You soon dismiss Frank's concern. "No not at all, actually she'd likely love you. I mean, our postman is quite a big guy and she's always happy to see him at the house. Though I guess he does bring treats for a lot of the dogs."
Frank smiles again and starts calling out for Midge as you come near to the spot where she ran off and you join him, shaking the bag of treats. He takes out a flashlight and starts a sweep. "Which way did she head, do you remember?" He asks.
You point down the slope in front of you and he starts making his way through the trees with you following behind and both calling. After a little while walking down the hill he holds up his hand in a signal to stop and you stay quiet. He listens and you strain your ears too, eventually hearing a distant whimper.
"Oh! Oh it's Midge!" You're suddenly sick with fear that she's seriously hurt and start running towards the sound, the thick branches scraping against your face and arms. Frank catches up to you quickly and urges you to slow down.
"Hey, hey! Watch yourself now, there's a ton of burrows and shit you could break your ankle in if you're not careful. Just hold back with me. It's alright, we'll get to her."
You reluctantly slow your pace as he's right after all, he does know these woods better than you and very soon he's crouching down at the roots of a big tree. As you round it you see little Midge on the ground whining and wagging her tail as she sees you. Her back paw is caught between two roots and she's clearly in some pain.
"Hey, hey Midgey, shhh it's okay, just stay nice and still." You try to calm her, holding her collar as Frank is extremely gentle as he carefully moves the roots to work her paw free and lift her up.
"There we go," he says as he holds her.
Both of you look the pup over for any other injuries before he radios that you'd found her to his colleagues. As you feel her ankle joint there's a little bruising but she doesn't seem to be in any great distress and when you hold out one of her treats she's more than eager to gobble it up.
"Oh Midge, it's alright baby, you're gonna be alright!" You stroke her soft fur in comfort, more for you, lifting your head to look at the ranger, your eyes shining slightly with tears. Just then Midge tilts her head up and licks Frank's face so sweetly and he cracks a smile. "Heh, that's a good sign."
You're so relieved and the rich sound of his laugh as Midge keeps on lavishing him with licks is infectious, making you chuckle too. It makes you feel so much better after all the worry.
"I can't thank you enough, Frank. I was so scared it would be so much worse!" You tell him as you all walk back to the park entrance.
"Hey no worries, it's all just part of the job." He replies as you reach the gate. It was almost completely dark now and the rain was starting to come down in a drizzly mist. "You local? Do you need a ride home?" He asks.
You glance down the road. It was only about a mile and a half walk away but you didn't want to risk Midge getting away from you again as she might manage to wriggle out of your arms on the road.
"Um, actually that would be really great if it wouldn't be too much trouble? We're not far."
"Not at all ma'am, best make sure this lil lady doesn't have another chance to get into trouble again, I know what they can be like!" He jibes, booping Midge gently on her nose which she licks afterwards.
When you reach the outside of your little lodge house after the short ride, you thank Frank again. In the light from the porch his dark eyes are twinkling as he bids you both goodnight.
"I'm sure she'll be back out and about in no time, just keep an eye out for those darn squirrels yeah?"
You laugh a little now that your worry is mostly over, and you notice how handsome he is as well as the kindness and trust that seemed to just emanate from him effortlessly, putting you at ease. "I certainly will! I'm so glad you found us, thank you. Once she's rested and recovered from her ordeal maybe we'll see you around?"
"Yeah, I sure hope so." He replies giving you a gorgeous smile as he gets back into his truck.
-
Frank is just signing off an email when he hears a familiar bark from outside the office. Lady, his own dog, responds with her own short huff, excited to see her playmate again.
It's been a couple of months since Midge's incident and maybe him carrying treats in his pocket might have had something to do with it, but she always ran up to the ranger station and let her arrival be known every time you walk her. And Frank sure as hell doesn't mind as it means he gets to see you.
It had started with polite, friendly waves and a big pet for Midge whenever you happened upon each other in the park. Then, you would frequently stop to chat to him, ask him about his day and he about yours, and then you had started to drop by after his shift finished so you could all go on a walk together. There was nothing Frank loved more than being in the outdoors, except now he got to share that with someone, and he found himself increasingly glad that it was you.
Frank always made you laugh with the way he would run around playing with Midge and Lady, even after a long day's work. You showed him the tricks you had been teaching your pup, and on your regular hikes you also started to learn more about each other. Frank started looking forward to the times he would see you, your easy and generous smile lighting up his world and maybe even pushing to broaden the boundaries of it, maybe let someone like you to become something more. It had been a long while since he thought he felt something more than friendship blossoming, and gradually opening up to you felt right.
Still, right now he was so damn nervous. He had been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for days and then he'd inevitably chicken out, but he promised himself he'd do it tonight. And even if you turned him down, there'd be no regrets.
"Hey big bear!" You say as you greet him. "Which route do you wanna take this evening Frankie? It's your turn to pick." You ask him as Frank steps out with Lady and locks up the office. He almost loses his nerve when he turns and sees your pretty face and your sweet voice calling his nickname caresses his ears.
"Uh, I was thinkin' up by the creek," he suggests as the four of you start walking up the trailhead. Frank scratches at the back of his shirt collar. "Can't remember if I mentioned before but our place is up that way."
You turn to look at him wide eyed after you throw the ball for the dogs as they run ahead. "It is? Wow, it's so gorgeous up there. You're so damn lucky Frank, a perfect job and an amazing commute!"
He can't help beaming back, you seemed to see the positive in almost everything, he guessed he was pretty lucky.
Okay, he decides, now is the time to do it. Just put it out there. Just ask. What's the worst that could happen?
He clears his throat. "Was wonderin' actually, if you'd… uh, maybe you might wanna-" He couldn't believe he was stuttering over such a simple question. Fuck, was it supposed to be this hard? Thankfully, you stepped in and saved both of you from any more of his awkwardness.
"Frank, are you inviting me to your place?" You ask.
The light rain that's falling makes the longer strands of his hair lie in curls against his forehead. He runs a hand through it pushing it back, nodding. "Yeah, I mean, no pressure or anything. Just, if you wanna maybe have a drink with… me?"
You smile at him again. "Yeah, I'd love to."
By the time you reached his lodge you were both slightly soaked by the autumn drizzle. Frank stacks up the wood burner as soon as he lets you in, giving you and the dogs a towel to dry off with as he gets the fire going.
Once you dry off your hair and the dogs, you look around his home in awe. It's so beautiful, hewn from trees from this very forest, nothing too big and grand, just perfectly cosy. He had a neat but well stocked kitchen area, with a solid oak table and chairs by the window. A set of natural carved steps led up to a mezzanine with shelves stacked with all sorts of books and what you assumed was his bedroom.
There were glazed double doors that opened out the back onto a wooden porch and the mossy lawn behind bordered by the trees. And beside the wood burning stove was a tired but comfy looking sofa with a massive thick rug in front of it where Frank gestured to you to make yourself at home.
You kick off your shoes and hang your coat up on a hook near the door beside his next to the dog leads, and settle on the couch.
"This is magic, Frank," you tell him as he opens the fridge taking out a couple of beers.
He shakes his head, dipping his face a little like he's embarrassed or something as he walks over and hands you a bottle. "It's alright. You hungry?" He asks.
"I'm alright just now, just thirsty!" You smile, clinking your bottle against his as he sits down across from you after placing a couple of logs onto the now steadily blazing pile of kindling.
"Did it come with the job?"
He shrugs, fingers stroking his thick beard. "Uh, kinda." He takes a swig of beer and smiles as he notices Lady bringing out one of her favourite toys and letting Midge play with it without a gripe.
"Heh, look at that. S'good they're gettin' on so well." He remarks, and you hum in agreement as you watch them play.
"Yeah, I'm so glad," You say as you turn your gaze back to him. "It means we can spend more time together."
The corners of Frank's mouth pull up just a little. "S'that so? Cos I've been thinking I'd like that." He admits, the nerves rapidly melting away.
You move just a little bit closer to him on the couch, turning your body to face his. "I know I'd like that…" you confess. As you put your beer down on the side table, your hand brushes his knee and you decide to leave it there. He gazes directly at you and you feel your body temperature rise but it's not because of the fire that's burning nearby...
His fingers lightly stroke over yours and when you look back up he's so focused on you, the brown of his eyes seems so deep and dark and soft you could get lost in them. He's searching your expression for permission.
"Can I kiss you?"
His voice melts like thick honey in your ears and you're leaning in with a whispered yes instantly, almost before he can get all the words out. He raises a hand to cup your face stroking his thumb softly over your cheek and you close your eyes as he slowly leans in and gently captures your lips with his own. He's so very tender but you can feel the control he possesses as you eagerly kiss him back, the captivating strength and power held in check only by a hair trigger. Your fingers thread through his beard, guiding him to you and right now he'll go wherever you want him. He thinks maybe he should stop, a gentleman would stop and let you take the lead, dictate the pace, but you already are.
Under the light tang of beer you taste sweeter than he could imagine as your tongue slips in so softly, so teasingly between his parted lips against his own and he can't help the low moan he lets out as you surprise him by shifting to climb into his lap.
You gently pull away for a second, and your words are laced with a barely concealed urgency that has him struggling against that fucking gentlemanly conscience he had just a minute ago.
"Tell me if this is too fast?" You probe, looking down at him, your pupils already blown out. You'd been waiting for this. You'd given him all the signals for a little while now, hoping he'd maybe feel the same, waiting for him to be ready.
Frank's eyes dart from yours, down to your mouth and back up again. "Don't feel too fast to me," his words almost vibrate through you with his low tone. "Just feels right."
He moves to kiss you again and it's bliss. His lips are so soft, as is his beard although slightly tickly against your skin. You sigh and smile making a contented sound and he shows you some more of that control, his hands running up the sides of your thighs to rest on your waist, just lightly holding you. He still lets you set the speed, what you want and you let him know as your fingers slide up the shirt covering his broad chest weaving into his hair. His kiss goes deeper as you move in his lap, slowly shifting forward, pressing your hips against his and he makes his reaction to that known with the sexiest noise you've heard him make so far. You want so desperately to hear more.
"Been goin' crazy over you, you know that sweetheart?" He reveals, as you both pull away momentarily, still just inches away from each other's mouths. Your breaths are shallow, you've not felt this excited in a long while.
"You think I haven't felt the same?" You smirk.
In the days after Midge's rescue and recovery, you had found yourself thinking about Frank a lot. About his kindness, competency, and yeah maybe sometimes about how handsome he is… still you never thought he'd take a second look at you, but now you had both arrived here, feeling Frank's fingers twitch against you desperate to touch and you eager for him to do so.
You urge him to continue to explore as your lips meet again, the sensation of his fingertips so tentatively sliding up under your sweater and chasing the goosebumps away as they glide over your bare skin. You nip teasingly at his lower lip and he rewards you with a small grunt before his tongue delves back deeper into your mouth as you move your core over the now obvious bulge in his pants. He trails hot kisses down the side of your neck, pulling at the neckline of your top and you peel it off so his lips can access more of you.
"You're so gorgeous darlin'," he speaks into your skin as he places every kiss with care and attention, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he mouths around the swell of your breasts still held captive by your bra. You tug at the hem of his shirt, leaning back for a moment so he can move to take it off. Your hands are back on him instantly, tracing over his muscular torso, fingers excitedly running over every dip and rise, appreciating every rough line of his varied scars now bared to you. You're both almost panting for breath, and he's struck dumb as you claw at his belt buckle but he gently puts his hands over yours, halting them.
You glance up. "Oh, if you don't want to-"
Frank chuckles, bumping his nose against yours. "I do. God, I really do… I just need to make sure it's what you want."
You can't believe this guy, he's almost perfect. Frustratingly so.
"Frank, I really want you." You tell him in all lucidity.
He licks across his lips at your confirmation, making the damp spot in your panties grow as he lets his eyes rove over you.
"Well, I'm gonna take you to bed then. C'mon." He says as he encourages you to your feet and guides you up the stairs.
You shimmy off your pants and socks in between more fervent kisses before he lays you down on his bed, leaving his own on as he lifts your foot and starts kissing his way up the inside of your ankle and calf. You part your legs wider to make space for him and his broad shoulders, your heart rate increasing by bounds as you anticipate his next move.
"Mm, s'this okay sweetheart?" He checks in as he nears the juncture of your thighs, his beard brushing the sensitive skin there, "Can I take these off?" He adds, and you hum in the affirmative as his dark eyes meet yours and he smiles. "Been just dyin' to taste you..." You flush with heat at his purred confession and lift your hips as he hooks his fingers around the waistband so he can pull your underwear down. He kisses your mound softly when he returns, taking his time.
"Anytime you want me to stop," he says before lightly kissing your clit and you let out a shuddered breath. "You just tell me baby, okay?" You nod and moan out loud when he begins to lap his tongue right between your glistening folds. You know you'll never want him to stop.
Your body writhes as he continues with wide slow licks between your thighs, relaxing as it's clear he more than knows what he's doing. You whimper, jolting unexpectedly as he begins flicking the hardened tip of his tongue over your clit before softening it again and repeating, swirling, sucking and worshiping your almost steadily dripping cunt like it's a fountain in the desert. When your thighs press in bracketing his head at a particularly sensitive touch, he wraps his big paws around you, fingers greedily switching between kneading the soft flesh of your legs and cupping around your ass as he devours you.
The hair of his beard rubs against your skin and the sensation is addictive. You move your hips against his rhythm and he reaches up to take one of your hands that is currently fisting in the sheets to position it on his head, to make you grab his hair and show him exactly what you want.
You gasp as he very quickly and easily hits a pressure and tempo that has you arching your back right off the mattress. Frank groans as you guide him, squeezing your legs around him almost rutting against his face, moaning so deep into your pussy you can feel the vibrations go through you. And just like that every focused movement he makes brings you further pleasure, taking you higher and higher, and seeing and feeling your reaction just keeps him going.
"Attagirl," he praises, briefly raising his head to look at you. Your juices shine on his lips, spread all around his mouth and wetting some of his beard. The sight just makes him look even hotter to you.
"Frank- mmn! God that's so good, please don't stop…"
He would never, diving right back between your quivering thighs and working you up to and over the edge like it's his only purpose. He can't help himself, you're so fucking sexy like this he's almost humping the bed trying to ease the throbbing need that's barely contained in his jeans. He might have thought about you like this before, how you'd sound, how you'd look, but nothing has prepared him for the reality.
He groans long and low as you clamp your legs hard to his head, you're trying not to but you can't stop your hips from rising, can't help fucking yourself hard against his face, but he wants it, encouraging you until your orgasm explodes from within. The intensity shakes you from your very core, rippling through your body in multiple waves as Frank still holds you firmly to him, licking you through it devotedly as he ruts his own hips into the mattress with another sexy moan. He slows down as he feels your tight grip in his hair easing off, his now near-black eyes meeting yours as he pants and licks his lips.
"You okay there darlin'?" His question is sincere but you almost snort with laughter with how fucking good he's made you feel. He can't be real.
"I'm-" you giggle and throw your arm up over your face as you feel nothing but euphoria.
"god, I'm… yeah, yeah I'm okay! Oh… shit. Wow!"
He grins and wipes his face on the sheets before crawling up the bed to lie next to you, and you turn on your side to face him, drawing him into a kiss as you reach for his pants for a second time.
He catches your hands yet again, shaking his head apologetically. "Uh, it was kinda 'oh shit wow' f'me too y'know? It's… been a while."
It takes you a brain-melted second to get his meaning and then a satisfied smile spreads across your lips. "Frankie, you know that's hot, right?"
He laughs falling back on the sheets, a slight blush dusting his cheekbones. "Hmm I dunno bout that, kinda feel like a teenager again, but as long as you're satisfied for now darlin'."
"I think that'll keep me going for a long while!"
"Not too long though, yeah?" Frank turns his head to look your way and try to gauge your meaning, the faintest hint of concern in his tone. This wasn't a one time thing right? It didn't feel like it was.
The corners of your mouth hook upward yet again. "Definitely not too long." you assure him.
Your eyes track up to the large skylight in the roof above the bed as you catch your breath back, watching the moody, inky clouds gently rolling past.
"Must be a fantastic view of the stars when it's clear." You muse, still gazing up as you feel the warmth of Frank's hand slide over your stomach to hold you close to him in the afterglow.
He follows the line of your sight. "Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to install but worth it for sure."
You turn in his arms to face him. "You put that in yourself? Wow, that's something."
He gives a shrug. "Well I always planned for it when I built the place."
You're incredulous. "What? You built this place?!"
Frank just chuckles, smoothing a couple of stray strands of hair out of your face.
"Yeah, haven't always been a ranger. Used to do logging, bit of carpentry. Just thought how hard can it be? Had the idea in my head for a good long while before I had the means and the land to make it happen."
"Frank Castle… I'm officially stunned. That's incredible!" He has the audacity to shrug again like it's nothing and then laughs out loud as he watches your brows draw together.
"Hey, I'm serious! That kinda skill, that's rare. And, I guess it explains this…" you run your fingers over his large biceps, giving them a quick squeeze before smoothing them over his chest.
He hums. "Yeah, only some of it, have to thank the gym for the rest."
You grin as he pushes up on an elbow, leaning his head on his hand as he traces slightly ticklish patterns over your skin as he regards you as if you're a goddess.
"And what about all this darlin'? What about you? You're somethin' special."
You shake your head but he's determined to make his feelings known to you.
"M'serious. Y'know I was totally shittin' it thinking about askin' you here, askin' you out? Was too damn scared you might not say yes."
You can't imagine Frank being scared of much, and you don't know how you could ever say no. Even before the sex.
"Well, I did say yes," you point out as you lean over to kiss him. He still tastes of you and the memory of the intimacy you'd shared is fresh in your mind. "...and I'm really glad that I did."
"Hm, well I better give the dogs their dinners," Frank muses as he strokes at your side, "and make ours too I guess..." he adds with a smile as your stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly.
"Oh, yeah, I didn't think I was that hungry until you mentioned dinner!"
Frank grins as he pushes himself up, grabbing a couple of clean towels from the cupboard near the bed. "Alright, m'gonna clean up real quick and make us somethin'. If you wanna have a long shower while I cook you go right on ahead darlin', there's plenty of hot water."
You smile as you stretch out under his ridiculously comfortable covers, watching his gorgeous ass disappearing into the bathroom as you call after him. "I'm loving the sound of that idea!"
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𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!
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HOW TO REQUEST
— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it
— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?
— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!
— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!
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WHAT I WILL WRITE:
platonic
romantic
familial
any gender x any gender
headcanons
poly relationships
sensitive topics
x reader
ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)
i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone
same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?
WHAT I WONT WRITE:
smut (i’m 14)
yandere
incest
student x teacher
canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests
canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests
songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)
things about ocs
ship fics
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character list (more to come!)
❍ = easiest characters to write for
bolded — favourite characters to write for
KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES
❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks
CHRONICLES OF NARNIA
❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis
RIORDANVERSE
❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov
PHANTOM OF THE OPERA
❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry
p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!
HARRY POTTER
harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans
RIDE THE CYCLONE
ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood
SHADOW AND BONE
❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this
SIX OF CROWS
kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar
THE OUTSIDERS
ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston
THE HUNGER GAMES
katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna
IT (2017)
bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon
THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL
❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey
THE LAND OF STORIES
❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell
SCOOBY DOO
daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley
LITTLE WOMEN
❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie
A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER
pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva
THE MIGHTY DUCKS
❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed
DRACULA
dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris
FRANKENSTEIN
victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride
DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE
henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris
MONSTER HIGH
gotta update this one guys,,,
THE BREAKFAST CLUB
john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark
THE POWERPUFF GIRLS
❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo
DAVID BOWIE
❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie
SWEENEY TODD
❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna
THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES
lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae
HAIRSPRAY
❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin
MISC. CHARACTERS
sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian
186 notes · View notes
amongthe141 · 6 months
Text
The Giver - Chapter 1
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By: @amongthe141
Fandom: Call of Duty Video Game
Chapters: 1/?
Characters: Y/N female reader, John Price, Frank Woods, more 141 to follow
Tags: Slow burn, Captain John Price x fem!reader, first ever shared writing...eek, sorry for grammar or lack of edits I tried, starts 2019 remake universe, yes I made Frank Woods look like a Santa and not sorry, w
Summary: Y/N is introduced to Captain John Price via Frank Woods and Y/N's life is about to become...more complicated.
Words: 1586
The knock on the door should have been promptly replied back with a bark somewhere to the tune of "...the hell you want" from the eighty some old senior man purposely sitting within the walls of his room in isolation.  Whether it was for peace or reliving of fading memories but in the case of Retired Master Sergeant Frank Woods it was more likely choosing to avoid the realization that he was old when the other residents and staff constantly make one such has himself remember it on the daily.  There were those who Woods allowed acceptance to enter freely…the evolution of his bark differs greatly from the first day he resided to now…the bark wasn’t so much as a bite if it was one of the favored few, which Y/N could be counted as one of them, if not the top tier of them.  It wasn’t an easy achievement but one with a bit of patience and a bit of stubbornness Y/N was able to conquer.  It also helped that Y/N and Woods were the troublemakers under this roof when they set their minds to it.  This is why the absence of this familiar greeting put her on edge and her breathing hitched in concern.  
The next group of knocks were louder, though knocking loud was always a must for any resident under this household because their hearing is shit if they were normal  but they weren't. These men who lived here at this privatized retirement home had extra damage to their ears from enemy explosions, recanting to  Y/N's ears in downtime storytelling or reasoning as to why their screams would wake her up at night from constant night terrors. So this last extra loud knock on Frank Woods door should have had him absolutely hysterical at her even to somewhere deep down finding superpowers to strengthen his bad knees to walk out of his bound chair to rock across his room to open the door to relay such hysterics. But as the seconds ticked and still no reply a moment of fear hit her hard. Many veterans had passed in their sleep here, death was an all too familiar experience since Y/N started five years ago, but she wasn't ready for the stubborn old man that lived to prove what a grumpy old man should be, nor one who relished in the delight of being called an asshole. She would never admit it but he was her favorite person in the converted old Victorian house they called home and Y/N wasn't ready to say an early goodbye or any goodbyes at all. 
Pushing through her fear, the dark stained door opened with an eerie scream from its hinges as the room came to life as the soft glows from the afternoon sun seeped through the countless windows. The same dark stain of the door flowed adjacent to the corners where ceiling and walls and floors  met in this cream colored room that belonged to Woods. Military flags stretched on the walls here and there  as if it was some piece of classic art.  Photos littered in frames or lay about every surface of Frank Wood’s room where there were hardly any surfaces left,  unlike the floor which he needed ample space for his wheelchair to get by. The faces that stared at her back, some she knew of from when Frank allowed himself to tell her tid bits from his past, others were of the younger Frank, a more dangerous yet addictive Woods who didn't give five fucks and would do as he pleased. 
Y/N could see herself getting in trouble with a younger Frank, she already did with the senior version ever since he first stepped within these hallowed halls (yes, he was a younger old man then… too proud to submit as the new guy lifebound eventually for his wheelchair) into the retirement house with other old geezers (his words at the beginning, not Y/Ns, never hers). 
Y/N had been in this room a million times, could tell you where everything was and should be, but in the first moments of entering  her fear made it all seem like a stranger's room instead as her eyes reluctantly stared at the empty but made up bed. One area cleared but…, what if he fell off the bed and was behind it? A sigh from Y/N released as again another spot cleared after as she approached closer to the bed to see to the other side. Y/N shifted the large ice bucket in her grasp as carrying the terror of finding him dead in the room subsided. Before asking "but where the hell was he" a coughing fit of laughter snuck in like a cool breeze from the screened door and she allowed herself to smile a silly smile as she shook her head, the bottles in the bucket clinking against each other as if rejoiced the location was given away to where a very live and fiery Woods would be. Y/N quickly crossed across the room and  pushed through  the reluctant screaming screen door that led out to the covered patio with her free hip,  she couldn't help but  tilt her head as she stared at Woods and his unexpected guest.
"Y/N!" Frank mustered to say when he was able to speak instead of cackle (it's what Y/N used to describe the coughing fits most life smokers end up getting) "Where the hell have you been?"
"Working very hard apparently being your bar wench" she said playfully as she went about carefully placing the basket of chilled beer on the table between Woods and his guest, who stood up as a bulky tower over the two of them to help her set it down very gentlemanly…probably a beer enthusiast as Woods where no drop of spilt beer should fall! He waited for Y/N to lean against the arm of the only free chair before sitting back down "Well this is certainly unexpected".
It wasn't till he spoke did she actually make eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the British accent that gave it clearly away that he wasn't a relation to Woods (as if any did visit if there were any) , perhaps the mutton chops of a beard adorning his face peppered with graying and light patches of hair teasing his age, or perhaps the beanie that bound his hair underneath…Y/N stopped processing every little detail of the man in her brain to jumpstart the point that his clear ocean blue eyes had her hooked, lined, and smitten and very much addicted instantly. Woods leaned over and passed him a cold one before jabbing one at Y/N’s closest though before taking his own, breaking her concentration on purpose but more likely for the urgency to enjoy a cold one.  
Y/N smiled before twisting the cap off as Woods unceremoniously hit the cap off the side of the wheelchair’s many metal perks, deeping the dent. "What can I say, privatized retirement houses do come with perks" Woods said before downing half the bottle and then nonchalantly introducing "Y/N meet Captain John Price". 
Y/N was greeted with a "Pleasure" and courteous nod with a non-mistaken smirk surrounded by his beard before he continued "When you said Woods you were in a private home, let alone a Veteran one, I indeed was not expecting this to be so…" "Homely". "Exactly".
"Thank you, when my Aunt inherited this place she didn't want it to be a place someone couldn't call home. Most other retirement homes are too hospital-like and…" "Cold". Y/N couldn't help but smile wide at them completing each other’s thoughts, "Exactly. Most have to come to retirement homes involuntarily, if bringing a bucket of cold beer helps then that's what we do." Y/N explained after more small inquiries came from Price that there were 6 other residents at the house. The staff was there 24/7 by shifts or by personal employment by the resident but Y/N was the only other person who resided there full time with her Aunt. "Life functions as a normal everyday household besides the times I get to boss this guy around" Wood’s playful eye roll earns him laugh before Y/N continues. "We make sure everyone makes their appointments, gets their meds, therapy, etc."
"Reliable and recommendable" Price said almost in a prideful tone before Woods snorted "More like lucky. VA benefits and regulations nowadays are death sentences to places like this. You won't be able to find this when you're my age for military men like us, for what we do!" Those words pulled every scar and blemish on Price to Y/Ns eyesight immediately. She's seen them hundred times over on the Veterans who have come and gone. The war battle scars they took home and relive most nights. "I better enjoy it then when I can aye?" A known silence is shared between the men as Woods nods in answer. 
"Well I better go check on things and leave you two at it. Anything needed before I go?" "No, not at this time". "Well if you do, Woods will make sure we know" and she did the same thing she's done a hundred times over with her favorite grumpy old man, no matter the state he was in, it always calmed and reassured him, with that gentle and soft squeeze of her hand on his shoulder incase it was ever the last time to do it. Y/N just didn't know how soon that time was nearing. 
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zepskies · 10 months
Text
Break Me Down - Part 15
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
Word Count: 4,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smuttish. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, peril, and a cliffhanger…
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Part 15: The Tower
You dreamed of Medellin. 
Of being back in that mansion on the cliffside, during a Colombian summer. Sometimes it was sipping a vodka cranberry by the pool. 
Other times, it was getting poker lessons from Loco and Saul while Frank smoked a cigarette. Or reading by yourself in the garden, surrounded by yellow flowers, as the salty wind from the nearby waterfall kissed your cheeks and rustled your sundress.
And once, it was getting caught by Ben on your way back to your new, bigger room. Pretending to be coy, fully aware of him following you, feeling his stare on your ass.
Then when you got to the door, you paused and turned in the doorway, boldly meeting his gaze. 
And you pulled him inside your room by his shirt, just like you had the first time. He pawed at your dress, those heavy hands dragging underneath, probing between your thighs.
You held him to you, reveled in the scrape of his beard against your neck, sighed shakily in his ear as he walked you back, your ass bumping into the dresser.
Ben turned you around. You allowed his manhandling as those hands wrapped around you and found your breasts, kneading every curve before he bent you over on the dresser. 
You braced yourself on the hard wood when those nimble fingers of his teased you through your underwear. Soon enough you sucked in a sharp breath, felt the burn of the lace ripping off, sliding from between your already slippery folds. 
But before he gave you what you wanted, what you were begging him for without words, he reached around and took your face in his hand, encouraging you to lift your head. 
Your gaze found his in the mirror, scorching lust and naked desire. And yet, you still wondered what he saw when he looked at you.
You just couldn’t know that he was wondering the same thing. 
But he forced you to watch him, to watch yourself as he entered you. Your mouth opened on a gasp. 
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You woke in bed with a jolt as your cell phone rang and vibrated on the nightstand. You pressed a hand to your rapidly beating heart and sighed. 
You didn’t quite remember the dream, but your skin was tingling all the way down to your toes. Not to mention the suspect heat between your legs…
You grabbed your phone, frowning in annoyance at the caller ID. 
Fucking Butcher again. But you answered, and he had unexpected news for you. 
When you eventually hung up with him, you got ready for the day. Ben must’ve already been awake, as his side of the bed was empty when you woke up. You later found him sitting on the porch outside in an old wooden chair, smoking a cigar.
How can he smoke so early in the morning? you thought with a shake of your head. He looked up at you, his lips lifting around his cigar. 
“Morning,” he said, puffing away. 
“You shouldn’t be hanging out here in the open,” you reminded him. 
He shrugged and reached out a hand to you. Sighing, you took it, and he tugged you over to sit in his lap. You waved the smoke out of your face, giving him a look of amusement and disbelief.
“Where the hell did you find a cigar?”
“Had it ordered in,” he said with a smirk. “That French fuck knows his shit.”
You shook your head at him with a small smile. You assumed he meant Frenchie. 
“We gotta go,” you told him. “Butcher just called.”
“Churchill can calm his tits for ten more minutes,” he said. He offered you a puff of his cigar when he caught you eyeing it. “Want to try it out?”
You grimaced, but part of you was curious, as you had never smoked one of these before. You took the cigar and inhaled a bit, and immediately started dying. This was nothing like smoking a joint.
“Shit,” you coughed out smoke. Ben rumbled with laughter, and you playfully hit his arm. 
“Here, take this thing back,” you said, still coughing. He rubbed your back and took the cigar from you. He continued to puff away. 
“Lightweight,” he teased you. 
“Old man,” you countered. “Out here in the heat with your day slippers.”
He glanced down at said slippers with a slight raise of his brows. Then he rolled his eyes. 
“Eh, fuck off.”
“Mhmm,” you said wryly. And you took the cigar from his mouth.
“Hey!”
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Ben didn’t appreciate being dragged all the way back to Supe Affairs, just to be told they couldn’t nail down Stan fucking Edgar.
“I got you Neuman. So what’s the damn problem?” he groused. 
“We haven’t been able to find anything concrete to pin him with, legally speaking,” said Hughie. 
You, Ben, Grace, and the rest of the team had gathered in a large conference room near Grace’s office. You sat while Ben stood to your right, his arms crossed grumpily. 
“What the hell does that matter?” Ben said. “We know what he’s guilty of. I’ve been ready and waiting to take out that fucking weasel.”
“He’s got a bit of a point, actually,” Butcher said. Annie raised an incredulous brow at both of them. 
“Because we can’t go around assassinating people,” she said. “That’s not what this group is about.”
“You’re a late comer to this fucking group, to be fair,” Butcher pointed out, crossing his arms as well. M.M. shot Butcher a look that said, really?
“We do have Victoria,” you spoke up. “Even if she isn’t holding anything else back, she can still help us.”
Grace considered you. “Yes. She can get through his network and give him a call, try to set up a time to meet.”
“And what then?” Annie asked, gesturing at Butcher and Ben. “These two assholes vaporize him?”
“We know they cloned Black Noir,” Hughie jumped in. “Along with a lot of other experiments that are so not fucking legal. We just need to find evidence in the lab.”
“And in the meantime, we get ahold of the slippery bastard,” Frenchie added. You nodded in agreement. 
“The sooner he’s behind bars and Vought is dismantled, the sooner I can bring my family out of protective custody,” you said. 
Grace then turned to M.M. “Marvin, what do you think?” 
All eyes turned to the man, who took in the various stares with a resigned sigh. 
“Let’s get this shit over with,” he said.
With a plan made, Grace, M.M., and Butcher went to visit Victoria upstairs in her holding cell. They coached her through her call to Stan. 
Meanwhile, Ben could care less about how the others eyed him with mistrust. (Well, Hughie tried to “buddy buddy” himself by offering up a cup of joe, but Ben mostly ignored that cum-guzzling moron.) 
No, he’d expected that. He noticed more how they treated you, still with polite distance and awkwardness, making glances between him and you. 
“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you’d said to him once. 
Ben understood a bit of what you meant now. 
You later led him out of the conference room and to the cafeteria with your head held high, but he could see that you were hiding it. How people’s stares and whispers were affecting you as the two of you walked down the hall. 
He had plenty of practice with that, letting attention (wanted or otherwise) roll off his back. But Ben realized that he’d marked you now, in more ways than one. 
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You later picked at a caesar salad while Ben was busy inhaling his second Italian sub. He subtly watched you, wondered what the hell you were thinking. 
Before he might’ve bit the bullet and just asked you, your phone buzzed on the table.
You read the text from Butcher in the group chat:
Stan agreed to meet Neuman. Tomorrow night at her apartment.
“Good,” you breathed in relief. And you showed Ben the text. He nodded around a mouthful of salami and provolone. Though he had a bit of mustard at the corner of his mouth.  
You smiled a little. Grabbing a napkin, you reached over and wiped it away. Ben let you do it. His lips curved as he watched you while chewing.
“Okay, let’s meet up with them after this. There’s going to be a lot to set up,” you started to say. But your phone trilled once again in your hand, this time a call from an unknown number. Frowning, you answered the call.
“Hello?”
“He knows you’ve got her.”
Your expression slackened at whose voice was on the line. Ben noticed, and it actually made him pause on taking another bite of his sandwich. 
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” you said tersely. 
Your father sighed. “Listen. Stan has no intention of meeting with Victoria.”
You reluctantly perked up at that. Ben raised an expectant brow at you. Your lips pursed; you really wanted to hang up on principle, but you knew you couldn’t. You held up a finger at Ben that said, wait. 
“What do you mean?” you asked. 
“Exactly what I said. He knows you have her. He knows you’re trying to trap him,” said Jon.
You sighed, rubbing at the ache starting to form between your eyes. But then your hand fell back to the table. Your expression hardened.
“Did you order the fucking hit on me?” you asked. 
“Sweetheart—”
You closed your eyes. 
“No. No. You don’t get to sweetheart me after you broke my fucking ribs,” you snapped. “Did you know?” 
Ben’s frown darkened as he finally realized who you were talking to. His hand curled into a fist on the table. 
“…No, I didn’t know,” Jon replied. “Why do you think I’m calling you now?”
“I really don’t know,” you said. “Why the hell are you trying to help me? Isn’t this a conflict of interest?”
You heard a heavy sigh on the line, and you waited. Your patience was starting to thin. You could also see Ben’s mood darkening now that he knew you were talking to your father. You angled yourself slightly, so he couldn’t reach over and grab the phone from you. (You saw his fingers twitching.) 
“He crossed the line sending Black Noir after you and your sister…and your mother,” Jon said. “I can help you on this.”
“There’s no world in which I’d ever trust you again,” you said flatly. 
“You’ve just gotta think here,” said Jon. “Do you want Stan Edgar or not?”
Your lips pursed. But you listened to what he had to say.
When you eventually hung up, Ben walked with you back up the stairs to the conference room. He watched you explain to Butcher and the rest of the team what your father had said, and what he’d proposed as a solution to the problem of Stan Edgar. 
Stan was due to come into the office at Vought Tower for a meeting with presidential candidate, Robert Singer. With Jon’s help, they could squeeze through a gap in security and intercept Stan before the meeting. The idea was to arrest him, but if Black Noir made an appearance, then that was Soldier Boy’s cue. 
And all bets would be off then. 
After Ben sat through the more boring logistics, he was relieved when the meeting finally dispersed, with the goal of meeting back here bright and early tomorrow. 
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Even back at the safe house, you were antsy, pacing back and forth across the living room. Ben had changed out of his supe suit into some jeans and a shirt, and he now watched you from the kitchen with a beer. 
He wanted to ask you what you were planning on doing for dinner (and when, for that matter). But he was pretty sure you’d verbally bite his head off if he mentioned it. 
Not that he was afraid of that, by any means…but he’d just rather not get into it with you right now. Not when things had been going good for the past few days. 
So he went into the living room to sit on the couch. He was about to turn on the TV, before you sat down heavily in the lounge chair beside the couch. Your face looked so pensive, so troubled as you rested your chin in your hand, that Ben let out a breath. 
He set down his beer on the coffee table. Then he sat back and crossed his arms, glancing over at you. 
“If we’re going to do this, you need to get your head on straight,” Ben said. 
You looked over at him, not willing to admit you were upset (and that he was right), but unable to lie either. 
“Let me figure out dinner,” you said instead. You got up, but Ben’s voice stopped you.
“When you see him, don’t give him an opening,” he said. You turned to meet his eyes, and you knew full well who he meant by him. 
“You’re smarter than that,” Ben added, giving you a more reserved smile. 
You crossed your arms. Emotion rose high in your throat, and it threatened to choke you as your eyes started to burn. 
“Am I?” you asked. 
Ben’s attempt at a smile faded at the sight of your burgeoning tears. He sighed deeply, and he held out a hand to you. 
“Come ‘ere.”
Your head tilted in slight confusion, but you went to him. He took your hand, and once again guided you into his lap. He settled you across his thighs and soothed a hand over your hair. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt for support, and you sucked in a shaky breath. 
“Bet you wish I’d knocked him a bit harder against the fucking wall,” he quipped. 
You uttered a laugh at his dark humor, wiping at your eyes. “Heh. Maybe. It’d certainly make my life less complicated.”
You sighed and rested against his chest, leaning your head on his shoulder. A smile raised your lips when his arm slid around your waist and held you. His thumb soothed back and forth across your thigh. 
And it was then you knew that he really did care about you. 
You turned into him, and hid your face into his neck when your tears burned anew. This time for a different reason, as you realized what this meant to you. How this man had broken through your defenses and slipped his way under your skin.
You had a suspicious feeling that he was there to stay, no matter what happened after this mission was over.
“Want me to finish the job?” Ben offered, barely even half joking. 
“Ben, please,” you implored into his skin. You shook your head, and your fist curled tighter into his shirt. “Just…”
Ben hesitated, but he held you more securely. He soothed a hand up and down your back. 
“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he rumbled. “We had a deal didn’t we? Long as I’m around, you’ll be all right.”
You nodded with a sniffle, and Ben felt your tears against his skin.
His hands really itched to finish the job he started with your father—and rip out his throat next time. Matter of fact, as soon as he saw that limp-dick piece of shit, it was on sight.  
And with that bone-deep thought, Ben knew that this was different. What he was doing here with you meant something to him. Whether you knew it or not…
(And you will, he thought.)
You…were his. That was just how it was going to be. 
He decided this in his mind, after he pressed a kiss above the patch of bruising along your temple.   
You were his. 
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The following morning, Stan straightened the blazer of his navy suit as he got off the elevator. 
His office lied at the top floor of Vought Tower, and it was newly renovated after the battle that took place last week. His bodyguard opened the glass door for him before he stepped through. 
He reached his new desk and sat down at the plush leather office chair, took up a freshly brewed mug of coffee (cream, no sugar), and enjoyed a satisfying sip. 
Then his bodyguard was pulled away from the front of his door, thrown down the hall. Stan raised his head, but didn’t startle as the door was wrenched open. 
“What the fuck! Not yet—” Starlight’s voice in the hall. But the next guest in his office was a different former employee.  
Soldier Boy stepped through in his familiar green suit. 
Stan remembered when this version of the suit was commissioned, to replace the dull gray with a pop of military color for marketing purposes.
“Good morning,” Stan greeted, raising his mug. “Care for a cup? Perhaps a donut.”
“Still fucking smarmy,” Ben said. He stood in front of the man’s desk, flexing his half-gloved fingers. He glanced up at the walls of this office, this tower in the sky. “We’ve been doing this dance for a long time, you and I.”
“And yet, on entirely different tempos,” Stan replied. “How can I help you, Soldier Boy?”
Ben raised a finger. 
“See, that’s what I can’t fucking stand. A goddamn hypocrite,” he said. “When you came to me in ’84, you said partnering with the military on that Nicaragua mission would call back to my unveiling in ’44. Forty years of service in the making.” 
And forty more that would be stolen from him.
Ben’s hand clenched into a fist. “My mistake was believing you.” 
“And my mistake was replacing you with more of the same,” said Stan, with his usual bland stoicism. “For all that you’d claim otherwise, you and Homelander shared more than just chromosomes.”
Stan stood from his chair, but was discreet in pressing a small button under his desk. 
“In all this posturing, I see an insecure child, yearning for attention,” he continued with a mild shrug. “Your strength is…nothing but a mask for how truly empty you are.”    
Ben’s jaw tightened, but he resisted losing his temper. He knew that would only goad this little prick on. He watched as Stan rounded his desk, pulling his hands behind his back.
“The cold truth is, you sold your humanity so that someone in the world would deign to love you. And if not, to fear you,” he said simply. “I sell it to win.” 
Ben’s senses prickled just in time to raise his shield against a metal spike aimed at his head. It ricocheted and speared into the ground. 
Stan frowned; this tile had just been replaced. But he stepped to the side as Black Noir burst into the office and went for Soldier Boy. He carefully avoided the fight as his bodyguards came to pull him out of the fray. 
Stan’s eyes only widened when the first two guards were shot dead by Billy Butcher and his team. 
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While a fight brewed in Stan Edgar’s office, you were in the familiar bowels of the tower, back in the Security & Surveillance command center…with your father. 
The two of you had taken control of the room, dismissing the on-site personnel, and now were in the process of evacuating the tower. At this point, who knew what could happen in the fight between Ben and Black Noir. You weren’t willing to abet any collateral damage, even here. 
Out of several monitors on the big screen, you kept one eye on the fight in Stan’s office. You and Jon noticed a breach in the hall.
“Butcher, you should be on your way out already,” Jon told him through the communicator in his ear. “The secondary team is also on its way up.”
“Right.” 
You watched with a measure of concern. Butcher seemed to be waning against a common security guard. He’d needed M.M. to grab the guy from behind and hurl him into Stan’s desk. Stan himself was plastered against the far corner of the wall, letting his security attempt to subdue Butcher and the rest of your friends. 
Your eyes moved to Black Noir. He’d also brought the same gun from last time—the one that had disrupted Ben’s powers. He was evading well enough so far…
“Soldier Boy is dangerous,” Jon said, breaking your attention from the screen. “However he’s managed to manipulate you into thinking he’s a good guy, there’s no hiding the fact that he can’t control that fucking A-bomb inside him.”
Your lips pursed in annoyance. 
“Oh, he is dangerous,” you agreed. “He wanted to finish what he started, caving in your skull as well as your chest. If I were you, I’d duck out quick when this is done.” 
Jon didn’t answer, but when you glanced at him, you saw the way he stilled, his jaw tensing. 
“Aren’t you glad I dropped him off at the lobby?” you quipped. Then you pressed a button on the control board and overrode the overhead speaker in the Administration office, where you saw people still milling about. 
“Evacuation was not a request,” you said into the speaker. “Put down the fucking chai tea latte and exit through the stairwell to the garage please.”
Jon turned to you while sitting in his chair. 
“After this is over, you’d be smart to start fresh…I could help you.”
You met him with a flat glare. “Now that’s just plain delusional.”
You had half a mind to get Ben on the comm to let Jon know exactly what he’d be in for if he tried to take you anywhere, but you didn’t want to distract Ben right now.
And maybe he didn’t know that you were alone with your father. 
Meanwhile, Jon’s mouth firmed into a line. A tendril of wariness (and maybe fear) laced down your spine. Your hand slowly moved to your belt…but he merely inclined his head. 
“All right. Maybe I deserve that,” he said. “But no matter my methods, I’ve always sought the best for you.”
“The best for—” You paused with a sharp sigh. And you steeled yourself before you replied. “I don’t know what fucked up fantasy world you’re living in, Jon. But after I left, I could finally see it clearly. You are the reason I hated myself.”
Jon didn’t show the true depths of his reaction. That wasn’t his way, but his steely eyes hardened as they held yours for a long moment. Then, he turned back to the screens. 
You released a subtle breath, though your hand stayed resting on your belt. 
Only Ben and Grace knew the truth about the injuries you’d sustained after being picked up at Vought. This time, you weren’t without a weapon. You had a gun on one hip and a taser on the other.
Ben had only agreed to your role in the mission because you’d called for backup. They should’ve been here by now, actually. In fact, they were supposed to meet you in the lobby, before you met up with your father.
Maybe they got stuck in traffic, you thought. You’d been checking your phone for the past ten minutes. 
But then a silent text came in: your backup team had just arrived. In fact, they strolled into the command center in full tactical gear, with guns drawn. Seeing the room was clear except for you and Jon, Frank nodded to Loco and stepped further inside.
“Hey, welcome to the party,” you said, greeting both men with a grateful smile. Jon glanced at you, then the men with a frown.
“Who the fuck are these two?” he asked. 
“My reinforcements,” you replied tartly. You felt better with them here as your spine untightened a bit. 
Frank nodded at you and remained standing to watch the door, while Loco grabbed a chair at your side. You gave him the lowdown of the control settings on the dashboard in front of you. 
“Oh shit,” Loco said when he glanced up at the screen. You followed suit, and a gasp fell from your mouth. 
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Ben managed to unmask Black Noir. 
The helmet hung from Ben’s gloved hand. It was Earving all right, but it also wasn’t. His eyes, normally a dark brown, were misted over with gray and almost lifeless. 
“Noir, destabilize him,” Stan commanded from his cowering corner. The supe seemed to hear him, and only that order.
Ben realized now what these fuckers had done. Not only did they create this Noir clone with Homelander scraps, but they’d made the perfect soldier. One that only took orders. 
Butcher noticed too, with widening eyes. Fucking hell.
But he had to brace a hand against the wall as a hacking cough rose unbidden from his chest, worsening the roiling pain in his stomach and the ache behind his eyes. Hughie grabbed his arm to support him, and his face was picture-perfect concern.
“What’s wrong?” Hughie asked. Butcher couldn’t answer him, because on the last cough, a spew of blood coated his hand (and the younger man’s shoes). Hughie’s eyes widened. 
“What the fuck’s going on with you?” he exclaimed. Butcher just grabbed his arm and pulled him a few feet over, so they wouldn’t get caught in the blast of Noir’s energy gun. 
Ben was grappling with him. He focused on summoning the nuclear power collecting in his chest. All he needed was one clear hit, and he’d be able to end this motherfucker for good. 
But before he could fully charge up, Black Noir aimed a well-placed kick to his sternum, sending him back a few feet. It gave Noir the opening he needed to shoot Ben right in the chest with his energy gun. 
An electrifying blue met pulsing red, and swallowed it up. It took Ben along with it. Luckily his shield was clipped onto his back, so it didn’t get eaten up in the initial blast.
Now, he fairly crackled with red and blue fractals, which coursed together into a violet haze. He felt dizzy and wrong, knowing that all this power had to come out. But if that happened, he knew he couldn’t contain it. He didn’t know what would happen. 
Part of him knew it would solve his problem, killing Noir, Stan, Butcher, and the rest of those assholes in one powerful swoop. 
No collateral damage. 
It was your voice in his mind. And he remembered you were here too, somewhere in the Tower. He closed his eyes, a strained yell erupting from his throat.
He couldn’t stop it. The sheer force brought him to his knees before he could angle it up into the sky. Instead, it released into the ground below. 
The nuclear blast tore through concrete like a drill, and it didn’t stop until it reached the very foundations of the tower, deep into the earth.
Afterwards, everything was still. Ben could only stare into the chasm below him while he caught his breath. 
Until the ground, the walls, everything began to tremor and shake. 
“Oh shit,” said M.M. 
During the blast, he’d held onto the far wall with Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. But now, he grabbed Annie’s arm to pull her up. The shaking grew worse with every second. 
“What the hell was that?” you commed in. No one could answer you yet, but at least it let Ben and the rest of them know that you were alive.
Annie reached out to Hughie, who grabbed onto her hand in relief. He also helped Butcher straighten, putting his arm across Hughie’s shoulders. Butcher glanced up at Black Noir, who was heading towards Stan. Meanwhile, Ben was stumbling to his feet. 
“It’s gonna come down like the fucking Eye of Sauron!” Hughie shouted. 
Butcher shared a grim look with M.M. “Like the bloody Twin Towers.”
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AN: 🫨 The Tower's falling! But how'd you like Ben contemplating getting his hands on Jon? 😏
We're heading into the real action here, folks!
Next Time:
You pressed a shaking finger to the comm in your ear. 
“Ben, where are you?” you asked. Maybe he heard the tremor in your voice, because you certainly read the concern in his.
“You’re not on the second floor. Where are you?”
You closed your eyes for a beat. “On the first floor. The garage is blocked and Noir has us bottlenecked.”
“I’m almost there. Just stay put,” Ben said. His tone was firm, and it reassured you. You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. 
“Yeah, not going anywhere in a hurry,” you whispered.
Keep Reading: PART 16
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92
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rhaenella · 1 year
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You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Masterlist
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Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, (eventual) smut
Total word count (so far): 96k
A/N: Multi part Rhys Montrose x Female Reader fic. FYI, this fic will incorporate the use of Y/N. I have decided to also post this fic on AO3 (same username as on my Tumblr) and to change the x Reader to an Original Female Character over there using a fictitious name. That will be the only difference. So, if the use of Y/N isn’t your thing, go ahead and look the fic up on AO3 :)
Below you'll find the links to all the parts that have thus far been uploaded. I will try my best to upload a new chapter each week. Every part is also accompanied with a 'soundtrack', these are all listed below as well. Finally, a little preview of what's to come... I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it! There aren't a lot of Rhys x Reader fics out there, so I hope I can bring some extra flavour to the table.
Ps don't forget to watch the trailer/edit I made for the fic! x
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22
Soundtracks: 00. Feeling Good – Nina Simone 01. Royals – Lorde  02. Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene – Hozier  03. (I Just) Died in Your Arms – Hidden Citizens  04. Secrets And Lies – Ruelle  05. No Good – KALEO  06. …Ready For It? – Taylor Swift 07. Meet Me In the Woods – Lord Huron 08. The River – Daisy Jones & The Six 09. The Silence – Manchester Orchestra 10. Power – Isak Danielson 11. wicked game – Jessie Villa 12. Beautiful Crime – Tamer 13. Toxic – 2WEI 14. Cherry – Lana Del Rey 15. In the Air Tonight – Natalie Taylor 16. Whole Lotta Love (Dermot O’Leary) – Hozier 17. Lavender Haze – Taylor Swift 18. Don’t You Know – Jaymes Young 19. One For My Baby – Frank Sinatra 20. Run Baby Run – The Rigs 21. Sinnerman – Nina Simone 22. And so It Begins – Klergy 
Preview
Song: Feeling Good – Nina Simone
The sound of the heavy door opening as it noisily scraped the floor made you look in his direction. 
Rhys entered slightly out of breath, looking positively dishevelled as he ran a hand through his unruly curls.
“What happened to you? Killed another person?” You couldn’t help but teasingly joke, taking in his state as your eyes roamed freely over his physique. 
Rhys had put his hands on his hips, taking some deep breaths to slow down his heart rate. When he looked up at you, head tilted to the side, he shot you his charming smile that feigned innocence.
No way.
You stared at him. 
No way the man was truly this brazen.
He started to move closer to you, his eyes mischievous as they betrayed his wicked actions. You marvelled a little at how quickly you were getting better at reading him. Perhaps you recognised the murderous tendencies from the mirror. 
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missvelvetsstuff · 7 months
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Fandom leap
Chapter 6
Winter Soldier x Reader
Notes: Here is my contribution to the Fandom Leap collaboration, my first. I'm excited and a bit nervous about posting this after reading those who came before me. I hope I can live up to the standard they have set.
Thank you to @supraveng for letting me take part in this very cool idea.
Hope y'all like it.
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated.
Check out the full story.
Series Masterlist
Chapter 5
*Last* You sigh as you soak in this moment, this feeling in your heart, the smell of Sam and the feeling of his hands gripping onto your hips. Just as quickly as all of those feelings went through you, they all went away and that eerie familiar feeling rose up on your throat.
No, not now. Please, not now! And before your head could wrap around what was going on, you were torn away from Sam but his presence still lingered on your skin*
You shook your head and groaned, the leaps seemed to be taking more of a toll each time.
You were sitting on the bed in a dark bedroom but could hear sounds in the house, music and talking, like a party. You sat up and looked around, unable to see much with just the sliver of light from under the door. It was a nice room, not too fancy but clean with solid wood furniture and crisp bedding.
A half opened door led to a bathroom and there was another door you figured was a closet. You looked down at yourself and realized you needed some clothes as yours were dirty and ragged.
You got up and went into the bathroom to take a quick shower to keep from drawing attention to yourself. The hot water definitely helped clear your head some.
You found a single, white dress alone in the closet, that fit you well but was an older style, maybe 60's and some white flats. You hurried to fix your hair and when you were satisfied moved towards the door with the light underneath.
You grabbed the doorknob and took a deep breath before carefully opening the door and stepping into a lit hallway. You followed the sounds, noting how dated and campy the orange, green and yellow decor was before stepping into a loud room full of people, also looking dated and campy. Beehive hair, brightly colored dresses and men with skinny neck ties. You chuckled at the idea of happening into some theme party but the more you looked around and heard bits of conversations you considered the possibility of jumping to yet another era. The talk of the space race and Frank Sinatra solidifying that idea.
You looked around, walking carefully through the groups of people, mostly all male or all female. No one seemed to be surprised at your appearance, simply nodding at you before returning to their conversations. A couple gave you small smiles but their eyes were all empty.
You noticed a small group speaking another language, it sounded Russian but you couldn't decipher anything they said until one man looked towards the back of the house and whispered one word.
"Soldat"
You turned in the direction he was looking but couldn't see anything from your vantage point. Before you could try to speak to anyone the chatter stilled and the record playing scratched and landed on a different song. Then the gunfire started and you froze for a moment before bolting back down the hall to go out the window of the bedroom you had started in.  When you realized the window was barred you tried to think calmly but the gunfire stopped and heavy footsteps came closer and stopped at the bedroom door which slammed open.
You froze, holding your breath until you saw the Winter Soldier taking up the doorway. A whispered "Bucky" left your lips before you could stop it.
He looked at you coldly "Who's Bucky?"
You shivered, hoping you could reach him somehow because you were obviously no match for him and forced a soft smile "You are. James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky to your friends."
He shook his head "I have no friends"
Your smile turned sad "I know it doesn't seem like it but you do."
"No, no friends, no family. Only missions. You are my mission. The girl in the white dress."
Your stomach dropped and your breath caught as you shook your head quickly
"No. No. Please, I'm not supposed to be here. I woke up in this room but I'm not part of whatever they were doing. I just threw on the only dress in the closet." you waved vaguely towards the party which was quiet except the music was still playing.
"Where are you supposed to be?" He cocked his head, eyes puzzled but softer.
"I'm from" you stammered "It's, it's really complicated and unbelievable."
Your heart thumped out of your chest and you wished you could do something for him during whatever time you had here, try to ease some of his suffering.
There was also some hope since he hadn't killed you yet. You looked him over and decided to change the subject
"You're hurt. We should get out of here. Is there a safe house nearby? I could clean that cut on your arm."
He shrugged "I'll be fine. Follow me."
You struggled to follow him through the house, trying to avoid the bodies without actually looking at them. The smell was already making you queasy and you were relieved when you made it outside. Until you felt the chill and saw snow on the ground. You weren't dressed for this.
He turned around to grab your arm "Hurry up or I'll have to kill you."
Then mounted a motorcycle and looked at you expectantly. You really weren't dressed for that.
You looked down at your dress, not thrilled with wearing it on the back of a motorcycle, much less in this cold but there weren't any other choices so you held the skirt down the best you could and climbed on behind him. He gave you his helmet and you barely had time to secure it and grab onto him before he peeled away from the house.
You looked around while he drove, trying to keep your mind off the cold. You were in the middle of nowhere with buildings here and there but mostly snowy trees and hills. The view didn't change until he slowed down and pulled onto a dirt road, driving awhile longer before stopping in front of a small cabin.
When he turned the motorcycle off you struggled off of the bike with aching cold arms and legs then removed the helmet, offering it to him. He just grunted and headed into the cabin so you followed him quietly and as quickly as you could move.
The interior wasn't any fancier than the exterior but it was warm and dry after the back of a bike at night in a dress. One room, single bed in the corner, wood stove with a small sink next to it, counter with a pair of barstools.
Bucky quickly made a fire while you looked for a first aid kit. When you found it in the tiny bathroom you asked him to sit so you could sew up his arm.
He shook his head "I can do it, I don't need any help."
You smiled at him "I'm sure you can but I want to help. To thank you for getting me out of there."
He frowned "But that's-"
You placed a finger over his mouth "Please? I want to help you."
He shrugged and grunted as he took off his tactical suit leaving him in a tank top and briefs. He sat heavily on one of the stools, waiting.
You carefully cleaned the cut on his bicep, trying not to hurt him. He flinched when you wiped it with antiseptic and clenched his jaw as you carefully stitched it together. As soon as you finished stitching and started cleaning up the mess he jerked away from you and went into the bathroom. You heard him start the shower.
You put the first aid kit away and went to the kitchen area after your stomach growled, looking for something to quiet it.  You found a couple of cans of stew and a pot to warm them in but no can opener anywhere.
As you looked all over the kitchen for a can opener and tried to figure out how to open the cans, Bucky came up behind you, reached around with one of his knives and cut both cans open. Your heart stopped while you waited to see what he was doing with the knife. Then it raced at how smoothly he moved with it, that was pretty hot.
You emptied the cans into a small metal pot and warmed the food up then poured half each into two bowls you had washed. Adding spoons you offered one of the bowls to him.
As you ate he stared at you, contemplatively. You started feeling uncomfortable but before you could say anything he spoke up.
"Tell me your unbelievable story."
You shook your head "It's pretty out there. You'll think I'm nuts."
"I've seen some pretty crazy things so try me."
You could tell he wasn't really asking anymore and sighed "I'm from an alternate universe. Apparently there are many realities and for some reason I've been shifting from one to another for the last few days. I've been to realities that are fiction in mine."
He looked at you skeptically "so I'm supposed to believe that you just shifted into that room? And just happened to be wearing the only white dress in the entire party?"
She shrugged "I told you it was unbelievable but it's the truth. Who was the woman in the white dress supposed to be?"
Bucky sighed "My mission. They don't give me much in the way of details. Sometimes there's a picture or description but this time all I got was the woman in white. That's you."
She nodded "Ok, I get it. What are you supposed to do with me?"
He shrugged again "Dunno. The mission was, eliminate the partygoers, get the girl in the white dress and bring her to the safe house. Here."
He ate a few more bites before speaking again.
"What do you mean about realities that are fiction in yours?"
Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how to explain "Well, where I'm from the Winter Soldier is from a comic book about super heroes. We don't have enhanced people or anything."
He was silent again as he finished his food. He stood up, took your empty bowl and tossed them into the sink. "You need some rest"
"Wait, what's going to happen to me? I don't want to wait around to become some Hydra prisoner. I need to get out of here."
He scoffed "Where will you go? You'll freeze out there dressed like that. I don't have any choice. You're my mission and aren't going anywhere so go lay on the bed and rest."
You stood there motionless trying to calculate an escape but you knew it was hopeless and slumped over in defeat as he pushed you towards the bed.
You took your shoes off and sat on the bed, it was small and lumpy but he stood over you so you couldn't get up. With a sigh you lay down and tried to get comfortable.
Bucky sat on the side of the bed and looked at you expectantly.
You stared back "What?"
"Could you make some room for me? I would like some rest too."
Your heart sped up "But wait you want to...here....with me? But I-"
"Shut up and move over"
He laid down, facing you and you fidgeted, trying not to touch him on the narrow bed but it was impossible.
He sighed again "Jesus Christ, just relax I'm not going to hurt you."
He pulled a scratchy blanket up to your shoulders, wrapped his arm around you and pulled you flush against him so you were chest to chest. He smelled so good, fresh like outside with a hint of musk and was so warm.
You started to relax into him and right before you fell asleep felt him kiss your forehead and whisper "I'm sorry."
It seemed like only a few minutes later when you were shocked awake by a rush of cold air and a bright light. You covered your face with your arm and felt your heart freeze when you heard that voice.
"Well miss, seems like you might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time
Unfortunately for you, I don't have the time to figure out what happened so you will have to do." It sounded like Arnim Zola, which meant you were in big trouble.
Bucky just sat there, wanting to protect you but knowing what will happen if he tried.
Rough arms pulled you away from him and handcuffed your wrists behind your back. You turned to look at Bucky, to show him you would be alright, and were gripped by the sadness and regret in his eyes. You saw tears fill them, like they had yours, and forced a sad smile before you were turned away from him.
As you were pulled to standing, for the first time since this all started, you were relieved to feel a shift coming on.
@supraveng @potterhead2207 @jamneuromain @herdreamywasteland @vibraniumarm06-bucket @imyourbratzdoll @swiftlymoniquesblog @rosedpetal @crazyunsexycool @nickfowlerrr @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men
Chapter 7
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