#Transaction Matching

[bispsolutions]

Accounts Payable to Purchase Order Transaction Matching

Accounts Payable to Purchase Order Transaction Matching

[traumato]

Cannot fucking get over how my boss keeps insisting that I'm counting cigarettes WrongTM when someone else does it and the numbers don't match when i literally could not be doing in a less incorrect way

[dragonji]

been trying to order a wig from arda all day now so i can start on lwj cosplay plans and it wont take my GotDam card :)

[davidl2001]

What Is Name Matching And Why Is It Important To The Financial Industry

What Is Name Matching And Why Is It Important To The Financial Industry

Name Matching In today’s world, what’s in a name can be very, very important in terms of whether or not you are able to handle your financial transactions in the manner you expected. Even though state-of-the-art technology is now available to verify your identity, the fact is human error still plays quite a role when mistakes are made. To solve this problem, name matching is relied upon now more…

[solarmorrigan]

Eddie gets Steve’s pickles when they go out to eat. Steve gets Eddie’s tomatoes. The transaction is seamless; it requires no words

Most of Eddie’s t-shirts have done time as sleep shirts for Steve. Eddie steals Steve’s hoodies without remorse. Neither of them remember which pair of sweatpants originally belonged to who at this point

No one bothers saving them more than one seat at any kind of movie night or other get-together; Eddie spends more time sitting on Steve than on the couch

They become an interchangeable taxi service at some point. The kids will say they’re getting a ride from eddiensteve, but it’s anyone’s guess if it’s going to be Steve’s beamer or Eddie’s van that rolls up (the only real difference is if they have to listen to Steve complaining about providing rides and then asking how their activities are going, or if they have to listen to Eddie’s music at deafening volume)

It feels so easy, the way their lives mesh, when they finally get together, and maybe it isn’t strictly healthy, but anyone who wants to throw around the word “codependent” must first survive at least one Upside Down Event. In any case, no one else really seems to mind–

“Y’know, when you two got together, I thought it would be weird. Like seeing your two older brothers make out,” Dustin mentions one day.

Steve’s face screws up in disgust. “Ew. Henderson–”

“But,” Dustin cuts in, “I’m actually kind of relieved.”

“I’ll bite,” Eddie drawls. “Pray tell: why?”

“Because you’re not going to make me pick a favorite anymore. You’ve basically melded into the same person.”

There is a beat of surprised silence before Steve and Eddie, almost simultaneously, burst out with “Oh my god, no we haven’t.” – “We have not.”

There is another beat of silence in which the two of them blink at each other as a grin spreads across Dustin’s face.

“See?” Steve finally says, recovering and looking at Dustin but pointing towards Eddie. “The way we said that was completely different.”

“Totally different,” Eddie agrees with a nod of his head.

“And we were never going to make you pick a favorite. What the hell, man?”

“What do you take us for, recently divorced parents?”

“That would’ve been petty.”

“Juvenile, even.”

“Exactly!”

Eddie shakes his head, clucking his tongue. “Where do you get these ideas, Henderson?”

Dustin, who has been watching their exchange like a tennis match, shakes his head right back. “It’s like you have two mouths but only one brain.”

[6okuto-moved]

— hq boyfriends in public

gn!reader | kuroo, oikawa, iwaizumi, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, sakusa

KUROO fights to pay for your things at the till. you were spending more than him and asked the cashier to do two transactions. tetsurou doesn’t protest, but while you’re on your phone planning your next shopping stop, he watches the cashier scan your items. they say the total and you reach to tap your card, only for him to do the same. you look up and make a startled noise. “tetsu, no—” “let me pay—” “oh my god, why do you do this every time?” you ask while the both of you laugh. you push each other out of the way until he’s able to hold his card long enough for the payment to go through. you sigh and pout at him, but tetsurou grins at you and plants a kiss on your head. “guess you were too slow, babe.”

OIKAWA watches you try different clothes no matter how many you try on. he's done it enough times that he knows what you're comfortable in and what colours are best—he could probably shop for you alone if you asked. you step out of the fitting room and he looks up from his phone with a smile. "what do you think?" you ask, turning so he can see it from different angles. tooru hums and taps his chin. "i think it flatters you a lot, and this would match your favourite jacket really well. do you feel good in it?" you nod. "right? yeah, i mean it looks really good and it's comfy. i could probably wear this to dinner tomorrow." he nods before standing up, clapping his hands together. "well, then there's your answer!" we'll put it in the cart when you're done. we still have more to go, yeah?"

IWAIZUMI carries your bag(s) for you, no matter how silly he might look. you take advantage of it sometimes, like now as you pick up a pink, velvet tote bag. “haji?” “yeah?” “can you carry this?” he turns to look at you and without hesitation, he takes the bag and puts it on. “oh yeah, what did you think of this sweater?” he moves on, reaching for it so you can see. “ it’s getting cold so i thought i’d get a new one.” you don't respond immediately, trying to hold back a grin, and he notices. “what?” “nothing! i just think…the design is very different from the bag.” he looks down at himself, and you think a black sweater with a skeleton torso design and a pink my melody tote was something he could pull off. hajime rolls his eyes lightly before moving toward you. he flicks your forehead, exhaling a laugh at your reaction and bringing you in for a side hug. “i think it looks really nice,” you offer. “yeah? you wanna pay for it then?”

AKAASHI asks to study with you at the cafe. he has a headband keeping his hair out of his face, and despite how messy he feels you think he looks especially cute today. he had asked you to quiz him on the study guide he made, and you try to think of a motivator. "okay, keiji, i have an idea," you say suddenly. he stops writing an answer explanation and looks up at your voice. "hm?" “if you get the next 7 questions right, i’ll get you some of that cake we see and never buy because it’s too expensive,” you promise and point. he follows your hand and looks to the register, where the cake sits next to it in glass. he leans back against the booth and sighs before looking at you with a smile. “can i have a kiss for every question instead?” you blink. it takes a few seconds for his question to process and your face starts to heat up. “keiji—” “you know you’re sweeter.” “keiji—”

ATSUMU hits on you as if you were still strangers. he walks back to your booth with your drinks in his hand, leaning on it with a grin. “hey there,” he greets you. “y’come around here often?” you look up at him and roll your eyes before deciding to play along. “yeah, actually. it’s my usual spot with my boyfriend.” atsumu makes a noise of acknowledgement. “oh yeah? where is he then? i bet i’m better-looking.” he slides back into his spot, passing your drink over at the same time. you hum. “you look kind of similar actually. are you his secret twin or something?” your laughter rings through the air at atsumu’s face before he reaches over to squish your cheeks. “no, i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have one.” "yeah? well i think saying you're better-looking than yourself is a trick that i couldn't have won." atsumu thinks for a second before letting go. a lopsided grin appears on his face. "touché, babe."

OSAMU feeds you food when you say you're tired. all you have to do is ask, maybe frown or pout a little, and he teasingly sighs before picking up your spoon. "first i'm your chef and now i have to feed you?" you open your mouth, and osamu makes sure to cup his hand to catch anything that falls. after finishing the first spoonful you reply, "yeah, it's called fine dining." he can’t help but smile a little as he gets the next spoon ready. “is it good?” he asks. you lean closer so he can feed you. you start to chew and nod, offering a thumbs up. "yeah, it always is. thank you, love you," you manage to say between bites. osamu’s eyes soften despite his initial complaint—he always did try to make his best for you. "mhm, love you, too."

SAKUSA holds you on the bus when there’s nowhere to sit. he always lets you take the last seat if there is one, but the days the bus is too crowded he keeps his arm around you, positioning himself between you and the closest person. when the bus jolts to a stop, the both of you grab each other instinctively and he keeps you from falling. the people around you all bump into each other and apologies, laughed and muttered, are shared. you move back to where you were and wrap your arms around kiyoomi, his own hold tightening. he taps your waist to get your attention. his brows are furrowed and he asks quietly, “you okay?” smiling, you nod. “yeah, sorry for pushing you a little.” “i don’t think that was really your fault, hon. we’ll get off soon.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu

[sidsinning]

UNNECESSARY AND UNHINGED RANT ABOUT CINDERELLA'S CHARACTER FROM CINDERELLA (2015) INCOMING

Lemme talk about Cinderella from Cinderella (2015) for a bit actually yeah because these changes to my girl completely baffle me

She has friends now

Goes outside on her own

Says the only reason why she's staying is because it's her parent's house- bruh.

All of this takes away (+ more reasons down the cut) from the true cruelty of OG!Cinderella's backstory and how it all connects so well to inform you of her character and the actions she takes

OG!Cinderella has been indoctrinated into accepting her life as a maid to her step family since she was a small child. She is never seen going outside of the house besides the night at the ball. The only friends she had were random animals around her she couldn't even fully converse with. She had no other human perspective on her situation or how to get out of it. It makes sense why she's just taking her stepmother's tyranny while holding everything in because this isolation and neglect is all she knows. This is the entire limited scope of her world. A sad reality to many cases of abuse in real life.

And they just. Erased all of this for some. Reason???

The night at the ball was a big deal because she literally NEVER gets to go out. This is the only time she interacts with the outside world aside from the ending. The impact of that was HUGE in the original movie. The new one just cheapened that imo by implying she goes out in town and talks to others regularly. This event was an impossible, fantastical dream come true to someone who is never treated as anything but a servant to everyone she knows.

Basically OG!Cinderella has it way worse which is what makes the ball such a huge deal in the first place.

Third point I don't think I need to explain how Cinderella staying in her abusive home bc the house is "hers to love now that her parents are dead" is not a good character change and doesn't make sense. I would understand if her dad was alive and insisting on staying, but he is GONE. It is a building you grew up in sure, but that's all it is. Not something you sacrifice your wellbeing for. So that's a shit reason they didn't need to make up to say why this character is stuck in her abusive household. The isolation and years of gaslighting were enough. (Also showing how much of a frightening presence and manipulative villain Lady Tremaine is.)

And she sure left it quick after getting hitched lol

The Fairy Godmother having the audacity to test Cinderella with that "oh I'm a poor old woman and I want some milk please" nonsense

Not very godmotherly of her in this version. 🥴 The Fairy Godmother appeared in the original to offer pure comfort to Cinderella in a time of desperate need, when this resilient and kind spirit finally reached her breaking point. The dress, slippers, pumpkin carriage, and magic were all given freely as a present to make her feel better at least for one night.

Meanwhile this goofy ass Godmother has the audacity to be like "hey is she gonna be nice or not even though she's crying in tattered, recently destroyed clothing- I need to see that or else she doesn't get the magic juice". Like why did this become a way to test her morality all of a sudden? Why did you need something from her to give up the magic goods?? It's not even a good test she just walked a couple steps and poured some milk in a bowl,,,

Idk man they made their relationship transactional for no reason which taints the original purpose of this scene imo. The original Fairy Godmother already KNEW Cinderella was kind without having to make sure by disguising herself as a rancid old lady. 😭 Weird and unnecessary addition.

Kinda nitpicky here but this film did not at all match the terror of the torn dress scene which really shows you how horrifying and humiliating it was to Cinderella

Comparison

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENDER: THE WAY SHE "ESCAPED".

I NEED TO TAKE A BREATH

BECAUSE LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT.

Original Cinderella, seeing a real chance of escape from her abuse, uses everything in her possession to do so. She's yelling for the mice to get the key, to get Bruno to chase away the cat, running down to meet the prince's attendants to make sure they get the proof of her identity from her- and that moment she oh-so-casually pulled out the second slipper??? SEEING HER STEPMOTHER'S SLACKED JAW??? GAGGED US ALL.

ICONIC

But 2015. Bitch. What is going on. She gets locked up and easily accepts her doom. She just twirls and sings in her prison like a dunce because cINDerELLa wAs aLReADy cONTenT wIth her sMaLL mOMEnts oF hAPPIneSs anD dREamS wItH thE pRinCE.

Just. Gives up.

Not the mice begging her to get up and save herself come on now

The mice have to do their best on their own to push open her window so the prince and his crew hear her on time.

And yeah, all she had to do was open a window.

WHAT. WHY. HOW. WAS THIS??? MORE EMPOWERING???

1950: use your brain to fight to the very end

2015: quit while you're still ahead, or don't try you just gotta dance and sing all pretty then someone will come along and save you

I'm sorry, but for a production that was so critical of the notion of "Cinderella just waited around for a prince to save her"...is that not literally what they changed the ending to?

You wanna talk about lack of agency in princess stories well here you go 😭

You know what's sad about all this in the end is this is still the best recent live action Disney remake imo LOL

Anyways hello if you've made it all the way down here I rest my case

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart ⭐ (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You got hired at mega retailer, Devil-Mart⭐. Naturally, the guys "suddenly" need a job too and start working alongside you.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Bonus Dia and Barb

»Tags: Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral Reader/MC

»Notes: How about shopping with them?-> [Devil-Mart: Shopping]

Lucifer:

"...Mammon put us in debt this month."

Was worried you'd be bullied (or eaten) surrounded by demons/other monsters

Is that coworker who acts like a boss

Actually does make it to management within the first week

The customer isn't always right. He's the manager to call for rude customers

Actually likes stocking, finds neat aisles soothing

The home improvement dept is his favorite

Frequently makes sure you take all your breaks

Doubles as store security if needed

Mammon:

"I just needed extra cash alright?"

Was worried you'd fall for some other demon

Failed in all departments except online orders (he's very fast!)

Bags for orders would occasionally go missing

Took extra long breaks but Lucifer caught on and wrote him up

Would try to frequently visit you in your department

Started fights with other workers who were busier staring at you than their work

"They're not meat, beat it!"

Got fired for trying to steal electronics

Levi:

"Theres a lot of new merch releases coming up soon!"

Didn't want to be the only one left out so he applied...plus you won't see him anymore!

Electronics department ONLY

You won't find him cross trained anywhere else, he refuses

Is actually really good with upselling

Can be aggressive if you don't go with his recommendations

Has received a few complaints for that reason

Tries to match his breaks with you since that's the only time he really gets to see you

Was the one who tattled on Mammon

Satan:

"This is for research."

A lie he almost believes but knows he just wants to be near you

Works the same department as you so you see each other all day

Never put him on registers or customer service

Almost got into a fight on the first day

Retail is rough for him but he does it for you

Complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Asmo:

"Ugh...a job!? I'm gonna cry. Oh but my fans would love if I relate to them! And your job will be fun with me there!"

Upfront about his reason lol

Refused to do anything except customer service

Just stands back and talks to customers while the coworker alongside him completes any transactions

Makes DevilToks on the clock

Frequently leaves his spot to talk to you and Satan

Gets all the work gossip

Lucifer never catches on

"You know, this isn't so bad! I'm such a good worker right!?"

Gets employee of the month

Beel:

"I don't like the thought of you surrounded by demons alone. This isn't RAD."

Aalajffkslsjda the cutest honest protector

Is cross trained everywhere but

Never put him near grocery ever again

Likes to work with you if he gets the chance

Usually works in the backroom unloading and back stocking things

Has a doctors note that let's him take frequent breaks for eating

His favorite department overall is security because Lucifer gives him extra treats if he prevents high valued thefts

Belphie:

"I'm here because I have things I would like to have."

Is there an extra meaning to that?

Works in the back with Beel usually

Takes frequent naps in hidden areas of the backroom

Pretends to look busy if Lucifer is around

Also complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Fights with Levi on your breaks because he also wants to spend time with you when he can

Is the reason some coworkers don't approach you

He makes it known to not fuck with you

Diavolo heard you started a new job alongside the brothers! He goes to visit with Barbatos in tow.

Diavolo:

"Can I get a little help here?"

Flirts with you while on the clock. He thinks the red vest on you is cute!

Was wowed by the store in general

(Normally Barbatos does the shopping alone)

Liked sampling the food that was around the store

Was tempted to apply but Barbatos shut it down

Took a photo of Lucifer in his manager clothes

Barbatos:

"Seeing you here will make my shopping trips more enjoyable."

Praises your work

Did have to go to customer service to complain and ran into Asmo

Didn't believe Asmo was gonna clean the restrooms but at least the complaint was taken

Takes a survey and compliments you

Has to fight Dia to get him off the racecar cart

"It's for parents with children my lord."

Returns the cart to the cart corral like an upstanding citizen

My first bulleted story post lol. I had fun with this & hope to make more in the future. <3

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱You ARE The Father

[navybrat817]

Lay Me Down

Pairing: Vampire Mob!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!Female Reader Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human. Word Count: Over 3.6k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, swearing, possessive behavior, slight fluff, slight angst, mentions of violence, blood, and death, some world building (is that a warning?), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: @buckysdollforlife suggested vampire mob!Bucky to me after sharing a photo. With the encouragement of @jobean12-blog and @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky , I ran with it and created THIS! Thanks to @dreamlessinparis and @sgt-seabass for listening and spitballing, along with @sweeterthanthis who also provided me with a delicious prompt near the end (we'll see it in the next part). Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank YOU as well!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Staring out the window at the city lights, you wondered how many were blissfully unaware of those who roamed in the shadows. They should consider themselves lucky. Peace existed between humans and supernatural creatures, but for a price. Clans and packs around the world required payment to keep the peace. Tomorrow, the Barnes clan will come to collect. 

The leader, James, affectionately nicknamed Bucky, didn’t ask for money or power. He had more than enough to survive long after most would leave this world. There was only one thing he demanded to continue protecting the eastern territory: you.

While clans and packs flourished, there had to be balance. Humanity and light needed to exist. Your father came from a powerful line with their own set of gifts and he often acted as a mediator between the families. 

He expected that someone would eventually lay claim to you, as much as he tried to shield you from his associates.

Special in your own way thanks to your blood.

"Be thankful it's the Barnes family."

You did consider yourself somewhat lucky. Your mom explained becoming a vampire was an honor and you would still be you at your core after the ceremony. While the marriage appeared to be transactional with Bucky gaining the use of your gifts, your husband-to-be did love you. 

You would know if he didn't.

"Your family will still thrive while you're in my care."

"And I'll be bound to you forever, James."

"Since we're in love and have an eternity awaiting us, I think it's time you call me Bucky."

A girl could do worse than Bucky Barnes.

You closed the curtain after a minute. Between the guards outside of your door and across the street keeping an eye on the building, you knew that you were safe for the night. Your phone got your attention as you crossed the room, recognizing the ringtone. "Hey, Bucky."

"You should be asleep, darling."

His face shimmered in your mind as the rich timbre of his voice filled your ears. Glacier-blue eyes framed by long lashes. Sharp cheekbones and a jaw peppered with stubble to match his lush, dark brown hair. He trimmed it recently, but it was still long enough to sweep back. 

Masculine. Attractive. Beautiful. 

Everything most would expect from a vampire. 

"Then why did you call me?" you asked, sitting on the bed. 

He chuckled. "Because I hoped you'd be awake. You rushed off after the rehearsal and I wanted to check on you. I think everyone was a bit worried."

You sighed, letting your mental walls down long enough for your family to sense that you were okay. You hadn't meant to leave so abruptly, but you couldn't stay. The rehearsal reminded you that you'd no longer be human after tonight. Instead, your body would no longer age while your loved ones would grow old and pass on. 

Your parents. Your little brother. In a way, your wedding would be the beginning of letting them go.

Peace always comes with a price. 

"I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry any of you. I'll apologize to my family tomorrow."

Your dad insisted, no matter what, that you ate breakfast as a family. It would be your last meal with them. You would have to appreciate every bite and flavor of your favorite foods.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Bucky asked.

"No," you whispered. You wouldn't do that to him or your family. "Just wondering if you'll get sick of me after a century or if it'll only take a decade."

"I won't get sick of you. Ever."

He spoke the truth. 

"Forever is a long time," you said, wiping an unexpected tear from the corner of your eye. 

"It is. Is it selfish that I don't want to spend it alone?"

"No. I think it's only natural that you want someone to share it with after everything," you said. 

Bucky had been through enough horrors to last a lifetime. Being the last of his bloodline after the slaughter of his family, he managed to rebuild his clan from dust and rise up in the ranks. It wasn't enough, as those in power often found. He craved companionship to chase the demons away. 

A mate. 

"Are you having second thoughts?" you asked. "You could have chosen Dolores as your bride or someone from another clan."

Some vampires had multiple partners, but Bucky wasn't one of them. His love didn't waver or wander. He devoted himself to you and would continue to do so in marriage.

"I don't want Dolores or another bride," he told you, not hiding the slight anger in his voice that you dared suggest that he would want anyone besides you. 

"I just know some aren't happy that you chose a human as your mate."

You weren't naive. Just because Bucky planned to turn you didn't mean all of the pure blood clans liked the idea of a human becoming one of them. Or that the Rogers clan offered to protect your dad's territory, too. In their eyes, you were weak. Even with your gifts. 

No one would dare make an attempt on your life on your wedding day at the risk of starting a war, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't try later. That was only the vampires. The wolves were a different story. 

Loving Bucky is easy, but that didn't mean the road ahead would always be smooth. 

"You and I are happy. That's what matters. I will keep you safe," he said, leaving no room to argue.

"I know you will. Turning me will make me stronger, too, so we'll keep each other safe. Remember that," you reminded him.

"Like you'd let me forget," he said fondly. "I saw your protective streak the moment we met and I knew I wanted to share forever with you. Do you remember that day?"

"I do. You planned to kill my dad."

You remembered that day well. 

You stood outside your father’s office door once you pushed past the guards, ignoring their warnings that he was in an important meeting. They knew better than to argue with you and didn’t sense the danger lurking feet away. They should have. If your dad wasn’t careful, this conversation would be his last. You couldn’t let that happen.

"It's out of respect for you that I came here alone today, but you're trying my patience," a deep voice spoke to your father. 

You shook your head, telling yourself not to let the hypnotic tone distract you. 

"I have no information for you, James. I'm sorry."

You gasped. There wasn't a soul who didn't know who James Barnes was. Though he was a close associate of your father, he never laid eyes on you. Your dad didn't let any of his associates see you. 

"Alexander Pierce was killed after meeting with you and you received a large portion of his shares. And then you don't show when we call an emergency council session. The same session where an assassin tried to take Steve and I out with wooden bullets."

Steve Rogers, best friend to James. Another powerful vampire and name most feared. He was kind to your father from what you heard and a man of honor. 

"Alexander wasn't a good man and I didn't want to do business with him, but I didn't kill him or have him killed. His money means nothing to me. And I had nothing to do with the attack on you or Steve. Why would I do such a thing?” 

“My men haven't found evidence against anyone else. And in all the time I've known you, you haven't missed a meeting. Ever."

It was your fault he missed the meeting. 

"Your clan has been generous to my businesses for years," your dad reminded him. "Believe me when I say I’d have nothing to gain and everything to lose by going against you and Steve."

“I want to believe you, I do, but I have to take action. You understand."

You stiffened before you yanked the door open and rushed inside. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

“Where the hell are the guards?" your dad asked, his eyes wide as he stood up from his desk chair. "You shouldn't be here. Get out. Now!"

He was never afraid.

The man across from him slowly rose to his feet. With his tall, broad build, he could’ve been mistaken for a wolf. Even with his back toward you, you sensed his power. You shivered when he turned his head toward you, his eyes the coldest you had ever seen. 

How could someone carry death in a stare?

“You must be the daughter.”

The dark, melodic voice threatened to bring you to your knees. You had spoken to vampires before, but none had ever affected you like this. “I am. And you must be James Barnes. Your reputation precedes you."

His gaze swept over you as you did the same to him. His elegant black suit looked tailored to perfection. Not a single hair was out of place. You had to admit he was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen. Vampires had no right to be so pretty. 

And this vampire wanted you.

“I am. And I can see why your father refused to bring you to meetings or let us meet. The photos I've seen of you are beautiful, but they don't do you any justice.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. Men said whatever they could to get in your pants, but this man believed you were a vision of beauty. You couldn’t let that distract you.

“I’m the reason he missed the meeting.”

"What are you doing?" your dad asked in your mind. "We agreed not to say anything."

"It's the only way."

You didn’t see James move as you blinked, refusing to let him intimidate you when he stood in front of you and gripped your chin with a cold hand. “You smell good.”

“James, please," your dad begged, holding his hand out as the cabinet across the room flew open. He kept a range of weapons to use against various creatures if necessary. "Don't hurt my daughter."

“It’s okay, dad. He won't,” you said, which was enough to make your dad lower his hand before he could summon a weapon.

"You sure about that?" James asked.

"If you wanted to hurt me, you would've done that already," you said as your eyes locked with his. "And if you do, you won't get the answers you're looking for."

"I'm listening," he said, brushing a finger over your neck. 

“My dad didn't put a hit out on anyone. I had a gut feeling something bad was going to happen the day of the meeting. Really bad. I begged him to stay home," you explained. 

"You're psychic?” he guessed as he loosened his grip. “I’m told your entire family has gifts.”

It was no secret that your father and mother possessed psychic abilities, like their ancestors had for many generations. Vampires had a tough time compelling you unlike regular humans. It made your bloodline special. A blessing or a curse depending on who you spoke to. 

"Not exactly. More like claircognizant. I can't see the future, but I just know things without any tangible evidence."

"That's convenient," James said.

"I can also sense feelings, like if someone is lying or has bad intentions. My instincts aren't wrong. They never have been,” you explained, nodding to your dad. “You had every intention of killing him before I walked in because you thought he betrayed you and your friend. He didn’t. Listen to my heart beat if you think I’m lying.”

The steady rhythm told him you were telling the truth.

"If you can sense my intentions, what do you think I want to do to you?"

"Everything," you whispered. "And you know my dad didn't do anything. You're just looking for someone to take your rage out on."

James raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed. “I’m sorry I suspected your father. He's a good man, but I've been burned in the past by people I thought were allies. You’ll have to understand that trust isn’t easy for me," he explained as he ran his thumb along your lower lip, not caring that your dad was watching. You almost sucked the digit into your mouth. "So you just knew he shouldn't go to the meeting."

"I did."

James hummed, sparing your dad a glance. "If these abilities of hers are that good, why have I not heard anything about them until now?"

"Because she's my daughter," he said, stepping around the desk when the vampire turned his attention back to you. "She isn't yours to use."

"We'll see about that." The flash of fangs when James smiled didn't frighten you. "What else can you do?"

"Have you heard of personal illusion?"

"Tell me more, darling."

"I was only going to kill your father if he set me up. I happen to like him," Bucky reminded you, making you blink the memory away. He wouldn't have been able to let a hit on him go unpunished. Your dad would've done the same. "Did you realize the danger you put yourself in by revealing to me what you could do?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you? I got a lecture about it later," you said, picturing Bucky smiling and shaking his head on the other end of the line. "But, thankfully, my dad didn't hold a grudge against you and I trusted you."

"Even when I suggested you sit in on my next deal to sniff out the rat? You still weren't suspicious of me?"

"Even then," you smiled. "I knew you needed answers, but you also wanted me around because I intrigued you."

"You still do."

Your dad didn't like the idea at first. As a telekinetic with limited telepathic ability, he admitted his gifts likely wouldn't find the culprit for Bucky. Not if he wanted it done quickly. You had a much better chance.

"Keep my daughter safe."

"You have my word."

Bucky instructed you to stay close to him, which meant he had you on his lap the moment he took a seat. A portion of the men wanted to fuck you, assuming you were a whore when Bucky didn't introduce you by name, and their intentions slightly overwhelmed you as they leered. Not that it took much of a push. They saw what you wanted them to see.

Steve Rogers was the only other one there who knew who you really were. 

"Stroke their egos, darling. They like that."

You stayed strong and played dumb, the way you were told to. Laughed at a joke here and stroked Bucky's hair there. You wondered if you played the part too well when you wiggled your hips in the vampire's lap, but you couldn't help your attraction to him.

Especially since he was a heartbeat away from taking you on the table. 

"Don't start what you can't finish," he warned you against your neck. "Business first."

You knew the moment Bucky brought up Alexander's death and the unsuccessful assassination of him and Steve that the leader of the Rumlow clan, Brock, was to blame. It would be discovered later that he double crossed Pierce and set up the hit in order to claim more territories. He was furious that the attempt failed, but cleaned up his tracks enough to go undetected by the others. Even Bucky hadn't known.

Brock would have taken you for the night and drained you dry if he had the chance. 

When you excused yourself, unable to hold the illusion of yourself you created for much longer, you winked and smiled playfully at the men. As you passed Brock's chair, you bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Bucky locked eyes with you as you pulled the door shut behind you. 

He dubbed it the "Kiss of Death". 

Because anyone who fucked with him wasn't going to leave in one piece. 

"That was the first night we made love," Bucky said, his voice moving along your skin as if he were there. 

You pressed your thighs together, but it didn't give you any relief. His voice alone puts you on the edge of bliss. "Would you call it 'making love'?"

"I fucked you and I made love to you."

You waited in Bucky's suite for hours after the meeting, which gave you a chance to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. It was devoid of anything personal, a strange mix of luxury and comfort. The only thing that gave away who the place belonged to was the family crest above the fireplace.

A beautiful, lonely room. 

You passed the time reading on the chaise lounge before the double doors flew open. Bucky's eyes glowed an unnatural blue as he walked in, his hair disarrayed and clothes covered in blood. Brock's blood. You felt the battle within him to claim you as his own or let you go on your way. You owed him no loyalty, yet you helped him. 

And you asked for nothing in return.

"Leave or I won't stop myself."

You stood up and faced him, wordlessly baring your neck. He wouldn't claim you without speaking to your parents, but the beast inside him raged. You were willing to satisfy him for the night.

It was only the beginning. 

"Never tasted anything as delicious as you. I nearly lost control."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," you teased, knowing full well he dismissed any blood mistresses he had after he met you. 

"Only to the girl I love," he whispered. 

You touched your neck, knowing by heart where he bit you the first time. Buried deep inside your wet walls, he sank his fangs into your neck and took enough blood to satisfy his craving. Every cell in your body hummed with pleasure as he drank and left you dizzy and aching when he finished. 

"Can you feel how much I love you?" 

"I can," you whispered. 

You felt it in every glance, touch, kiss. Each whispered word against your ears, lips, and skin. He showered affection upon every inch of you until no place was left untouched. 

His love for you only grew when he asked for your hand in marriage after a few months. 

Once he spoke with your father and assured the protection of your family and territory, he agreed. Your little brother actually hugged Bucky when he heard the news and asked him to always be good to you. You may be his big sister, but he still felt the need to protect you. Bucky promised he would always take care of you. 

"You love me and my blood was so good, you put a ring on it," you teased. 

Bucky burst out laughing, the sound bringing a smile to your face. Hardly anyone made him laugh. "Yes, darling, you're just that good."

You held your hand up to look at the ring on your finger. The large, teardrop ruby flashed in the faint light. He chose it because it reminded him of blood and the promise you made to him.

The tiniest shackle to bind people together, but it wasn't heavy or a burden.

"And if I'm that good, I'll have you knocked up during our honeymoon."

"Bucky!" you smiled in spite of yourself, knowing your parents secretly wanted grandchildren. 

"What? With our bloodlines, our child might be stronger than both of us."

"Not might. Our child will be stronger than us if we have one," you said. 

Another reason why someone would want you dead or taken away from Bucky. 

"You said we'd keep each other safe. We'll protect our child, too."

"Why don't we concentrate on finding Steve a mate first and then kids?" you suggested.

"We can do both."

"I thought I needed to sleep," you smiled at his stubbornness.

"I'm giving you something to think about so you have good dreams. A beautiful wedding, blissful honeymoon, and bright future," he said. 

You knew you'd dream of him tonight. 

"Thank you, Bucky. I think I can sleep now."

"Good. Rest, my love. You need it."

You shivered at the underlying promise as you hung up. He was right. You needed to rest. If you let your thoughts consume you, you wouldn't get any sleep. Bucky didn't need a grouchy bride. 

Your phone dinged before you could set it down, seeing a message from the devil himself. 

"If you're reading this, you aren't sleeping. Bad girl."

You laughed as you typed back to him. "You did that on purpose."

"I may have. Since I have your attention…"

Oh, the three dots. This'll be good. 

"Tomorrow, on our wedding day, I'm going to recite my vows twice."

Your brows furrowed as you saw him typing more. Why would he recite them twice? To make the words sink in?

"Once at the altar. Once again in the bedroom."

Oh.

"With my tongue."

OH. 

"On your pussy."

Fuck.

"One letter at a time."

Fuck. Oh, fuck. No. I need to sleep. I don't need that image in my mind.

"You'll know in your soul that you're truly mine."

You tried to think of a coherent or witty response, but only one thing came to mind. 

"I love you, Bucky Barnes."

You set your phone down before you could see if he typed a response back. If he could make your knees weak, you'd do the same to him. Nothing made him weaker than your love. 

It also made him stronger.

Touching the empty spot beside you, you wished Bucky was there. Maybe he would surprise you and sneak in. If only to kiss your forehead and remind you that you were in this together. Because after tomorrow, there was no going back. You would belong to James Buchanan Barnes.

Forever.

We'll see our new couple again in future fic Down to Sleep. We may also get an alpha for another reader. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[ohraicodoll]

Teeth

Joel Miller x f!Reader (Feral Reader as you’ve all lovingly called her) The Last of Us (show/game) 4.5K Words (3rd POV) Part II to Monsters Summary:  “Only Joel could make offering to get her off sound like a business transaction. But the intention was clear. This wasn’t intimacy, wasn’t passion boiling over, wasn’t romance. It was bodies and tactfulness and practicality.“ Warning: 18 + Minors DNI. Smut, pwp, mentions of violence, enemies to fwb, can be read standalone Part I | Part II

The house was too quiet.

So often on the road, they’d taken to sleeping in whatever buildings they could secure, alcoves in the woods, even an old run down vehicle on the side of the road occasionally. But this time they all got their own rooms, beds, to sleep in and instead of being comforting it made her anxious. She was used to the sounds of nature going on at night, the steady breathing of her companions, the slight vibrations of the world around her. There was nothing in the cabin but silence. They’d strategically picked rooms, Ellie taking the master bedroom as that was the farthest away from the entrance with hers and Joel’s closest to the front door. If someone went through the effort of getting through all the defenses and fences and managed to get inside, they’d have to get past their rooms first. Except not even that because she was awake and laying on the floor in the living room. The bed had been too soft, the walls pressing into her too much. Caged. So she had grabbed the blankets and pillows and thrown them on the floor on top of the couch cushions she’d yanked down. All where she could have a good vantage point of the front door, pistol resting beside her head and knife under the pillow. It was better, but still not the same.

All the clothes in the house were too big, no matter how tight she knotted the drawstrings, so she’d forgone pants and had thrown on an oversized shirt while her pants dried in what the previous owners had deemed the “laundry room.” The blankets were warm but a little itchy against her bare skin and she sighed. It was hard to relax, to take advantage of the amenities. The need to constantly be prepared for anything a humming nerve under her skin. She tried to calm herself, to focus, to slow the constant stream of thoughts going over the previous day. Finding the group, the bullet graze on her shoulder, the look of pure uninhibited rage as Joel caved the man’s skull in with his bare fist. And then the feel of that same hand in hers, rough skin against her own, and the warmth of Joel’s thighs against her body. “Except you’re wrong if you don’t think I like seeing you on your knees for me.” She wasn’t an idiot. The man was attractive and had been since the day she met him, no matter how much he set her teeth on edge and made her want to wring his neck. They were the same, hackles raised and maws snapping at every turn. She didn’t feel the need to play nice and hide who she was. He never batted an eye at her lack of hesitation towards violence, never looked at her fearfully or disapprovingly for shooting or stabbing first. She’d been around others before, had seen the way they skittered away in fear as if in a blood haze she’d go after them as well. Joel Miller was a survivor and knew that the world was ugly. And sometimes you had to match that ugliness to see the next day. He would have been the type of man that had intimidated her when she was younger. Too gruff, hardened, assured with his cocky attitude and rare smiles. Nothing like Harry. She’d been bashful before, wanting to break out of her shell but unable to take that leap. Not a leader, not a go-getter. Not quite the best at social interaction, at interacting with men specifically, words never coming easily. She would have blushed from one look from the Texan. The world wasn’t made for blushing anymore though and that was twenty years ago. That girl was dead. She was just wearing her skin. A skinwalker. A monster wearing a human form. The Outbreak had changed them all. 

Now it was hard to feel anything. She felt tiny sparks of amusement from Ellie when she tried out new jokes to get a reaction, concern as she took note of the weight that seemed to be on the young girl’s shoulders, affection watching her take in every new surrounding, irritation when Joel bossed them both around. Rage and anger were the easiest to feel, so she took aim at the older man. Like poking a bear if only to feel the exhilaration of being chased. She felt most alive in the middle of a fight and when Joel’s eyes were glaring into her, teeth snapping at her. Staring up at the ceiling, the slight creak of a hinge caught her ear from down the hall followed by almost silent footsteps. Too heavy to be Ellie, too quiet for the girl that blew through life like a tornado. No, she watched and waited as Joel came around the corner, the lantern she had left lit in the corner of the room illuminating the frown tilting his lips down. The sweatpants that hadn’t fit her fit him perfectly, settling loose and comfy on his hips while the faded shirt stretched snuggly across his broad chest. She could see the telltale signs that he’d been running his hands through his head, the slight curls in disarray and silver catching the light. If he had been asleep, she couldn’t tell. Maybe he’d heard her leave her own room. He always did seem to know when she was moving around. “What’re you doin’ out here?” he grumbled quietly, the sound rough and low. The darkness hid his eyes from her but she knew he was probably glaring. Still annoyed over their exchange earlier most likely. She blinked at him then went back to staring at the ceiling, “Bed’s too soft.” My mind won’t shut off, the room is too quiet, the walls are too close, I don’t like sleeping alone anymore. The words were there, buried underneath layers of skin. Joel grunted, scratching at his chin and the patchy beard there before placing his hands on his hips and taking her in. He could tell when she was bullshitting, she knew that, but he wasn’t about to call her out on it. They didn’t do feelings, didn’t confess their fears in the dark. It was practical and that’s how they both liked it. So she reasoned it was in the name of practicality that he sighed and walked over. Because they had shit to get done the next day and he’d gripe at her if she was tired and couldn’t pull her weight. He nudged her side with his foot, the silent command to scoot over, and rather than be a brat and stare him down she did so. The cushions were wide and worn down, big enough for both of them and weren’t entirely uncomfortable. Better than what they were used to sleeping on. Odd sleeping arrangements weren’t new, the three of them pressed tight together like sardines trying to fit in whatever small safe space they could find. So it wasn’t exactly odd for him to be pressed close to her. There’d been many nights she’d fallen asleep to her cheek against his shoulder blades and Ellie wrapped around her back. Maybe he had come out to the living room for the same reasons she had. She wasn’t sure but wasn’t about to ask. Joel placed his own gun on the ground next to his side of the cushions, carefully kneeling down and lifting the blanket up to get underneath. She could feel his pause more than she could see it, could hear the slight curse under his breath, “You wearin’ any pants?” “Does it look like it?” He shook his head, jaw clenching but continued climbing in beside her. The apocalypse did away with a lot of things like modesty and politeness. She didn’t care, had gone and helped him in only a towel earlier because she was already there and wasn’t going to take the time to change just to tend to his hand. Practical. He shifted beside her, getting comfortable under the shared blanket and laying on his side facing away from her where he could still hear from his good side. There was a moment where his arm went under the pillow and he paused, pulling out the blade while giving her a look before moving it beside him. Never surprised, always annoyed. The heat from his body made up for having to share the blanket, warmth radiating from him and seeping into her. She hadn’t moved, eyes still glued to the ceiling though now her concentration was mostly on the slight sound of Joel’s breathing next to her, the way his back muscles shifted against her arms, the anxiety lessening now that she wasn’t alone. “You’re thinking too loud,” his voice growled next to her, bare feet brushing hers as he adjusted. “That’s not a thing,” she replied, very much still awake. Joel sighed and looked at her over his shoulder, “You gonna go to sleep anytime soon or should I go back to my room?” Rolling her eyes, she met his gaze in the dim lantern light, his irises practically black, “You act like I’m not trying to sleep. Brain’s too wired. Feel free to go back if all you’re gonna do is complain, I didn’t ask you to sleep in here.” He huffed, facing away from her and let the silence take back over. 

This time the silence felt weighted, a heavy tension as they both acknowledged that neither of them were sleeping. Using his own words, she could hear him thinking loudly and it kicked up her nerves. She was extra aware of his heat, the press of his back against her arm, the slow and steady way his breath filled the air. It made her sensitive, made the world around her seem to vibrate. Joel was the one to break the silence again, the words deep and rough with his accent, “I can help, if you want…Distract you so you get to sleep.” Her heart sped up, the sound like a raging river in her mind. Her skin was tingling. “How so?” she could hear her own voice get huskier as she whispered back, the barest sound slipping out. He turned to look at her again over his shoulder, gaze heated, “You know how.” She did. Had more than once imagined his mouth on her, fingers slick with arousal and touching her- “Didn’t seem that into the idea earlier when you damn near bit my head off,” she scoffed and tried to ignore how every nerve was on fire. How he had been the one to bring it up and what he was offering. Joel didn’t say anything for a long minute, the memory of her on her knees and his fingers digging into his own thigh fresh. It’d been to rile him up, be a dick to him as he was being to her, but it wasn’t exactly not an invitation. She’d fucked worse to alleviate the tension, to say thanks, to satisfy a need. “Then maybe you weren’t listening correctly,” he grunted, “You want help or not? The window’s closing fast.” Only Joel could make offering to get her off sound like a business transaction. But the intention was clear. This wasn’t intimacy, wasn’t passion boiling over, wasn’t romance. It was bodies and tactfulness and practicality. She nodded, eyes on the ceiling. “Gonna need it out loud, darlin’,” he muttered lowly. Darlin. Not Starshine or Red or Hey You. It was a new one. “Okay,” she whispered and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She didn’t look at him, didn’t try and gauge his reaction or the look on his face. As unaffected as she was trying to come across, her heart was in her throat. It’d been a while, a good long while since someone else had touched her and it was Joel of all people breaking that dry spell. He turned over on his other side to face her and she could feel his eyes, the way they burned into her skin, “Turn over.” She didn’t argue, didn’t bristle at being ordered, simply faced away. It was better this way. It was too intimate to let him see her face, to watch his, and that wasn’t what this was. His chest was flush against her back and she could feel his breath against her neck, hands finding her waist as one of his knees pushed between hers. She expected him to be rougher, quicker, more methodical but he was soft and slow, taking his time. His fingers skimmed over her sides and down to her thighs, finding the hem of the worn shirt then the large expanse of bare skin. His palm was rough against the smooth skin and she bit down on her lip at the contrast in texture, finding she liked the feeling. Then the tips of his fingers were playing with the band of her underwear as his nose dragged along her neck, hot breath almost causing her to shiver. He slid his fingers along the thin straps, hand brushing against her heated skin and she could feel the edge of the bandage on the back of it. The bandage covering the split knuckles and sliced skin from him beating a man to death.

That kind of rage wasn’t supposed to be a turn on, but it had been. The old her would have been terrified, traumatized, backing away from him out of fear but not the person she was now. He had her back, had watched out for her and been there in the second she had been blinded by her overwhelming need to protect Ellie. 

Joel had her. She pressed herself back into him and could hear his swallowed groan as her ass rubbed against his groin, at his obvious arousal pressing against her. He didn’t speak and neither did she. Only the sounds of their quickening breaths filled the silence of the living room and then a barely audible gasp as his fingers finally slipped underneath the cloth and found her center already hot and wet. He trailed along her slit, gathering the arousal soaking there, and spread it around, encircling her clit. He took his time, going slow, getting to know her and the sounds she desperately tried to keep locked inside her. She’d been quiet back in the day. Never been one for dirty talk or loud moans. Maybe because she’d been bashful and inexperienced and easily embarrassed. Soft, breathless, throaty. Now it was more out of instinct, survival, control. There wasn’t much she could control in the world but herself and any noises she made were for her to decide if she wanted them to be heard. So she swallowed the moan that strained to leave her lips as Joel circled her clit even more urgently, lightning shooting through her. His hand was large, so much bigger than hers. His whole body could probably wrap around her completely, cover her up and shield her from everything around them. Joel was a solid wall behind her and as his finger finally dipped inside, she gripped the pillow tightly in a clawed hand while the other dug into the bicep stretched across her. He curled inside her, thumb pressing down on her clit, and she clenched her teeth against another moan, throwing her head back. Salt and pepper curls tickled her chin and then his mouth was on her neck, hot and wet with teeth and tongue. She could smell him, gunpowder and musk and pine. Distinctly Joel and she bit down on her tongue hard, welcoming the slight tinge of copper in her attempt to keep from drowning in him. Another finger entered her and she almost sobbed at the stretch. The coil inside of her was winding tighter and tighter with each stroke, each slow pump, as he managed to tease a part of her that had her delirious with pleasure. He was methodical, precise, bringing her to the edge then pulling back to bring her back down to the shallows before building her up again. It was the perfect kind of torture that had her pushing into hand, searching for more. Her nails were making indents in his skin from how hard she was digging in, struggling to keep herself in control. 

At last a gasp slipped through her lips unbidden. A crack forming. The small sound seemed to almost snap something in Joel. He cursed, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, before yanking her until she was on her back with his hand still down her panties. Before she could question him, his mouth was latched onto her neck and he was pressing deeper into her all the way to his knuckles, no longer going slow, no longer keeping her turned away from him. Their legs were tangled, thigh between his and hips pulled wider, and she could feel the hard length of his own arousal rubbing against her. She didn’t stop to wonder if this was about practicality anymore. If this had been part of the unspoken arrangement. Not when his mouth had inched down the collar of her shirt and he was pressing teeth into the small stars along her collarbone, worshiping the slip of skin. No, her hand reached out and pressed against his sweatpants, feeling him and taking in the way he hissed against her skin and jerked into her hand. Her back arched off the pillows as pleasure grew and their heated pants filled the room. Joel’s beard was scratchy against her skin and she knew there would be red marks all over her neck and across her chest but she didn’t care. His teeth nipped sharp spots of pain into her skin and then he would soothe the spot with his tongue. All while his fingers pumped in and out of her, the slick sound dampened by the underwear he’d shoved aside. Her own hand gripped him through his sweatpants, feeling his weight and length, mouth almost going dry at the size. He didn’t protest, didn’t say anything when she slipped her hand under the band of pants and past his underwear, feeling the hot velvet skin of his erection and passing a thumb over the tip to collect the moisture there. Instead he bit down harder and jutted into her hand, rocking and thrusting faster into her. Fuck, he was big and onehanded she stroked him the best she could, blind in the dark and moving in time with him. She was close, could feel the coil going taut and her breath coming out faster and faster. Her own face pressed into his shoulder, feeling the tight muscles in the arm holding himself over her. He almost seemed to shiver as she dragged her mouth along his skin then bit down, groaning open mouthed onto him as her orgasm crashed hard and unyielding. She didn’t slow down, didn’t release him, even as her body felt loose and HER breath came out in shaky pants. No, she had him and wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to take control over the smuggler. She stroked from tip to base, massaging him and drawing out his grunts with each movement. His fingers pulled out of her and gripped her thigh, smearing her own arousal all over the skin and digging in tight enough to bruise. “Fuck,” Joel hissed into her neck and she let go of the pillow she had been gripping with her free hand, combing through his hair and running nails along his scalp. She wanted to tear him open with her claws, rip away the hardened shell he’d built around himself and climb into him. Force some vulnerability to the surface in the same way he had with her. Revenge maybe, but the word didn’t feel right. He pushed himself up and finally met her gaze, their breath mingling as their eyes found each other in the dark. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, felt almost more exposed than when his fingers were deep inside her. But she didn’t break her stride, didn’t blink or look away. She met him head on and it reminded her of that first day they had met. Saving Ellie, killing that man with a baseball bat, equal amounts of fury and brokenness meeting the other. A mirror. Joel grit his teeth and she watched the words “fuck it” shape on his lips but never forming sound before his lips were on hers. She hadn’t been expecting it. Kissing was for intimacy and this wasn’t that. But the kiss wasn’t gentle or soft or tentative, instead a clash that shook their bones. He was trying to devour her and she was trying to dominate him, his weight pressing down into her fully. She moaned into his mouth and hooked a leg around his waist, trying to draw him in as close as possible with her hand still tangled in his hair. She couldn’t define his taste. It was…Joel. Earthy and sweet and intoxicating. His tongue discovered every crevice of her mouth, sliding along hers, and she tugged at his hair until a hiss danced along their lips. Kissing Joel Miller was dangerous in its addiction. Her lungs burned and she thought she could taste copper, blood, but she couldn’t get enough, wanting to swallow every innocuous sound that left his throat because they were the only pieces of himself he let go of freely. She palmed his member, massaging it and feeling how desperate he was for release, before finally pulling away enough to whisper against him, “You can either fuck my hand or you can fuck me, Miller. What’s it gonna be?” He groaned as she squeezed him harder, hips jerking, “Jesus Christ…” Then his hands were tugging her underwear down in answer and he was on top of her fully between her thighs, lips bruising while she released him and helped yank his sweatpants down. It was frantic, hands clawing, teeth biting. A desperation she hadn’t felt in a while, only akin to when things were life or death and she was fighting for her life. 

Practicality had gone out the window and she wasn’t sure when it had happened. She felt alive, sharp and bright, and that had her fully pulling him to her, feeling him slide along her wet core heavy and pulsing and so fucking good. Joel braced himself with an elbow beside her head, muscles straining, hand gripping her hair tightly to keep her lips against his. His other fist pumped himself, sliding against her clit and drawing breathless moans into his mouth. There was no discussion about going slow, about making sure she was ready or stretched enough for him. That required a level of care, affection. No, that wasn’t them. Inside he hitched her leg higher around his waist and pushed into her fast and rough. Both of them groaned at the stretch, at the way he filled her completely, teeth swallowing the sounds. It never left their mouths, wasn’t for the world to hear, simply passed from one to the other like a secret. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him flush against her as he started to move. The proximity had him grinding against her, the rough hairs at his base adding friction and sending sparks through her. It was fast and bordered on painful, but it only heightened the feeling for her. She didn’t want him to be gentle with her, didn’t want to be handled like a doll.

She needed to feel something even if it was pain and god, if the man didn’t cause every single inch of her to alight with fire. “Fucking hell,” he whispered against her, the words a growl as he broke from her mouth and pressed his forehead to her shoulder, “Feel so fucking good.” His thrusts were beginning to lose their rhythm, going faster and harder as if he was aiming to tear her in half. She only wrapped both legs around his waist, hooking them at the ankle, the silent promise that she was fully along for the ride until the end. “This better than me on my knees, Miller,” she hissed, fingers tightening on his curls. He gripped the back of her head and drove deeper into her almost in answer, “Shut the fuck up, darlin’.” There was a reply on her lips but it never managed to escape, his lips crushing hers as they both began to hit the edge. She pulsed and tightened around him as her orgasm hit her like a freight train, lightning searing every nerve and dragging Joel down with her. He came hard with her, his warm release filling her and coating both of them as he fucked her through the last waves and aftershocks of their climax. Their breathless pants wrapped around them and painted their lips, a few centimeters apart but not fully pulled away from the other. She could feel him twitching inside of, was drowning in his scent and that familiar whiff of sex that clung to them. Even with his weight bearing down onto her, she felt good, filled to the brim, awake. Joel groaned, forehead against hers, sweat trickling down his neck and into the collar of his shirt, “Fuck.” “Ditto,” she mumbled, trying to catch her breath, releasing her tight grip on his hair and sliding it along his bag. He almost shivered at the slight caress. “I should have pulled out,” he frowned, brow furrowed as reality started to sink in. “It’s fine,” she answered heavily and fell back fully against the pillow, neck stretched beneath him, “Can’t get pregnant. Plumbing don’t work.” Her sentences were stuttered, short and to the point as a clear indication that it wasn’t a topic she wanted to elaborate on. It was the smallest admittance of something personal, a rarity between them, and he filed it away in the back of his mind.

He nodded and lifted himself up, only giving her a small warning before sliding himself from her. They both groaned at the sensation and loss of warmth, laying on their backs side by side under the blanket. The air was much cooler on their sweat slicked skin and in the back of her mind she was thankful that at least she’d get to take a shower in the morning. A second later though, her thoughts were cut off when Joel grabbed her and tugged her closer into his side, her arm across his chest. She froze, not quite expecting him to even acknowledge her after the deed was done, much less want to touch her. His ankle was still wrapped around hers and the threadbare shirt was soft under her cheek, his hand resting on her shoulder. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler,” the words lacked their usual mocking tone or bite, bordered on unsurety. This was out of her comfort zone and she was stiff, in unfamiliar territory with the smuggler. Sex and rage she knew, but not…whatever this was. “Shut up and go to sleep, Red,” Joel’s eyes were already closed, breathing relaxed and even. He wasn’t rising to take the bait, all the fight gone out of him. Biting her lip, she sighed. And true to his word, she followed him into slumber quickly after, leaving the new aspect of their relationship to ponder in the daylight. 

[littlebluemoth]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → part two!! how this played out was debated for awhile honestly. i hope you guys enjoy and start to understand a little more of the dynamic we’re looking at here. as always, feedback is heavily heavily appreciated and let’s me know you want more. let me know to be added to the taglist! ALSO - a lot of people who commented on part 1 to be added to the taglist don’t have it turned on in settings where i’m able to tag them, so i couldn’t. i won’t be going back through several parts to find your @ so you’ll need to fix it and comment again if you want to be on the taglist in the future.

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → alcohol use, strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Ever since the spontaneous car hookup earlier in the week, things had been a sort of comfortably complicated. Joe had driven you to pick up your car, half hard watching your legs cross so delicately as if he hadn’t just ripped your panties off in the backseat. It was more than a turn on for him.

It was a still silence all the way back to the practice facility. He kissed your cheek and told you to have a goodnight, then you grabbed your cheer bag and had gone home. Joe waited to see if he’d hear from you, wanting to see where you stood on the matter before he pushed his way into your space. He was giving you an out if you wanted it.

You wanted to want it.

It was so wrong. You were breaking the biggest rule imposed on you. Yet, you couldn’t. So you didn’t. It took until mid-afternoon the next day when you texted him to get his actual phone number, the texting exclusively through instagram private message felt a little middle school. He happily obliged, not wanting to pressure you into anything.

The conversation was casual, nothing pertaining to the subject of you fucking in the backseat of his Porsche. The only discussion of that was via Venmo, when he sent you money for a Plan B without question. You hadn’t even requested the money, he just let you know through the transaction that he didn’t want to act entitled to knowing if you were on contraception.

He didn’t know why he was so enamored by you. Joe had a very fuck boy-ish college career, he’d done his fair share of sleeping around and having women throw themselves at him. Some would say this has given him a big ego, he partially agreed. It was never about the hookup culture, though. It was more so just what he thought was right for a college athlete, it was what all his friends had done. He’d broken some hearts, for that he wasn’t proud. It was a time in his life that he was focused on two things: football and partying.

It was pretty obvious that you were the opposite to him. He had done a little social media stalking to find out a little more about the so-called rookie Ben-Gal. Just through instagram he saw that you were a very spirited girl during high school, it seemed like you had a serious boyfriend through most of those four years. He sort of disappeared when you came to the University of Cincinnati.

He wondered if he was your first love. Joe hadn’t ever been able to recall a first love for himself. There had been plenty of girls, he just didn’t ever feel like it was love.

He saw that you had maintained the good girl persona through college too. He was shocked that you’d never joined a sorority. Joe came to realize that you really were just a dedicated student athlete through and through. How you ended up as a Bengals cheerleader? He wasn’t sure.

Joe: What’re you up to tonight?

He typed the message out without thinking much of it, it’d been days since you’d last been together. He hadn’t pushed anything since the car incident. He hung back after practice and watched you rehearse the dance choreography for the preseason that would begin in a few days.

Y/N: Not sure yet

Y/N: Why?

He didn’t really know why. Joe wasn’t so selfish that he wanted to get you in trouble for hanging around him. He just wanted to see you.

Joe: I want to see you.

This was a surprise to you. Not that Joe seemed like the type to sleep with a girl and ghost, but he did kind of seem like the type of guy to do that. He was so charming, though. Everything he said to you sent your stomach into somersaults.

Y/N: Do you?

Joe: I really do

Joe: How do you feel about dive bars?

Y/N: LMAOO

When he didn’t respond to that, you realized he wasn’t kidding when he asked you that. Without thinking much, you laughed and began to type again.

Y/N: Oh shit, you’re serious

Y/N: Can’t say I’m very familiar with the scene lol

Joe: Really?

Y/N: I mean, I just turned 21, I don’t really go to frat parties at school. I really only drink with friends. Haven’t been to many bars.

Joe: Fair enough. I know a spot outside of Cincinnati. It’s pretty small, usually pretty deserted. The crowd is older.

This made you nervous, being in public and easily spotted with Joe made you nervous. It wasn’t the fact that anyone would know who you were, being an NFL cheerleader didn’t make you a celebrity. It was more so the possibility of someone snapping a picture of Joe with you in it, Joe is a celebrity and he’s extremely recognizable.

Y/N: Joe, I really don’t want all this to get back to my coaches. It only takes one person to fuck this all up for me before the season even starts..

Joe: I get that. I’m telling you, nobody here is going to be a problem.

-

In between finishing up your hair and adding a red lip tint, you heard a knock on your apartment door. That would definitely be Joe. He’d insisted on coming up to grab you when picking you up, something about being raised decent.

You’d slipped into a navy blue miniskirt and white ribbed tank top. It seemed like the simplest thing for going out to a hole-in-the-wall bar.

“You’re punctual,” you laughed as you opened the door to reveal Joe in a pair of khakis and t-shirt.

“You look,” Joe began, scanning your figure. “I mean you look really great, Y/N.”

He couldn’t help but think about your reddened lips. He didn’t know where the both of you stood on a lot of things, this made him hold back some of what he wished to say.

“Thank you,” your face flushed at his comments.

Both of you just kinda stood there in the doorway for a moment, grinning like high schoolers after their first kiss. Joe’s cheeks were pink, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you retrieve your clutch. His eyes fell to the way your ass looked in that skirt on more than one occasion, or more specifically what it would look like out of that skirt.

“Ready?” You asked.

Joe nodded and you headed down to the complex’s garage. It was a comfortable walk, filled with you having the inability to tear your gaze from his toned arms and back. He definitely noticed you staring, grinning each time he caught you from the corner of his eye.

He opened the passenger side door for you, walking around and getting in himself. He looked so fucking good. There was just something about an attractive guy driving, but Joe took it to a whole different level. He pushed his hand through his hair and backed out seamlessly.

Some A$AP Rocky song was playing in the background as you looked out the window at the lit up city. Joe drummed along the steering wheel. It was obvious every time he attempted to slyly glance at the skirt riding up your thighs.

“How do you think this game in a few days will go?” You said softly.

“Hard to say,” Joe replied. “It’s preseason, so technically it doesn’t matter. To the team it matters, though. Losing these early games give guys like Skip Bayless a reason to rip us apart before the season even starts.”

“You listen to stuff like that?”

“It’s hard not to, they practically shove it down our throats the entire season. Last season was tough, not winning the Super Bowl.”

“You made it, though,” you said. “Counts for something.”

He looked at you, smiling softly and glancing at your lips briefly. Once his eyes were back on the road, you took the opportunity to brush a hand over his arm. He let a deep breath out, chuckling a little. The tension was thick, both of you tiptoeing around the fact that you wanted so desperately to rip the other’s clothes off.

He let you touch him, obviously enjoying it. Maybe he wanted to see how far you’d take it, maybe you wanted to see how far you’d take it. Letting your hand fall to his thigh, you used your thumb to brush over the fabric softly. His breathing became a bit unsteady, eyes flickering to you every few seconds.

When you inched closer to his erection, you gave him a look as if to ask for permission. He nodded, groaning soon after you began to palm him through his pants. He was hard, aching for anything you would give him. You felt yourself heating up, surprised by your own actions when you began to undo the button on his pants, unzipping them and assisting in pulling them down ever so slightly.

He was still driving, eyes very focused on the road now. You let yourself begin to palm him through his briefs now, watching him yearn for your touch more and more.

Joe was driving down a long stretch, the road was deserted and only occupied by him as far as he could see. High beams on, he wondered if he should pull over and fuck you then and there. Or maybe he should see where you were going with this.

“Is this okay?” You asked him, looking up.

“Yeah, more than okay,” he breathed out.

Pulling down his briefs, you tried to maneuver your body into a comfortable position. He was hard in your hand, precum gleaming at the tip. As you let yourself take him in your mouth, he let out a guttural moan. With one hand on the wheel, another found the back of your head and weaved its way into your hair.

This was definitely unsafe.

With your knees bent towards him, your ass was in the air as he started to steadily pace you. He thrusted into your mouth, telling you not to stop. Using your tongue to your advantage, you used your hand to pump where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl, fuck,” he praised you. “Just like that, I really don’t want to crash this car.”

Trying to push him to the back of your throat, you made sure to take it slow. While this was incredibly hot and sexy, Joe was right. One wrong move, he’s crashing you both into a tree.

Letting yourself release him from your mouth, you used your saliva as a lubricant and pumped your hand over top of his shaft. He was breathing hard, letting you gain composure before your mouth was on him again. He couldn’t take it, the way you swirled your tongue to hit every single nerve. It was only when he began to enter the small downtown area that he realized he’d have to forfeit this without finishing.

Pulling up, you wiped your chin and helped him to get his pants done up. This was a space with a decent number of other cars and stoplights. Last thing either of you needed was someone snapping a picture of Joe receiving a blowjob at a red light or something.

You both laughed a little, Joe still very worked up and giving you the side eye. Pulling down the sun visor, you looking into the tiny mirror and realized your red lip had become all smudged. You went into your clutch and grabbed the tint stick out, applying it evenly.

This only turned Joe on more, watching you as he drove down the tiny street. There seemed to be a lot of brick buildings, some people out and about. It was late, though. He pulled into a small side lot, saying this was it.

Stepping out of the car was a breath of fresh air, it had been very hot and sticky after you decided to blow him. Joe adjusted himself, rolling his eyes when you smirked at him. He held a hand out to you, making your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. Then he pulled you down some cellar like set of steps, pushing a heavy green door open to reveal a dimly lit bar. It was a room of purple hues, lights strung up with music playing. There were a few older people, like three or four. All of the bar seats were empty.

“Come sit,” Joe brought you over.

The bartender was easily seventy, she had red hair that was pulled back tightly and an apron tied to her waist. She smiled at you, the tag on her shirt read ‘Jenny’.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” he told her.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic.”

The woman didn’t ask for any ID, she just nodded and smiled. Joe glanced at you, looking around the space and chuckling. You leaned against the bar, taking a sip of your drink as she placed it down. Joe followed suit, talking to you mindlessly about practice.

“Oh my god, it’s Maggie May!” You said over the music, eyes wide when you grabbed Joe and pulled him to the empty space at the middle of the bar.

“What’re you doing?” He laughed.

“We’re dancing!” You smiled, letting him take you by the waist.

He was laughing as you swayed around, spinning in his arms and singing the lyrics as if you were performing them for him. He eventually gained the courage to take your hands and go back and forth a little. The few people occupying the bar watched and whistled, clearly not used to the display.

Taking you in his arms, Joe kissed you sweetly. Watching as you gallivanted him around a little, trying very hard to spin him yourself. Didn’t work very easily when your dance partner was 6’4.

“Oh Maggie I couldn’t have tried anymore! You led me away from home, ‘cause you didn’t want to be alone! You stole my heart, I couldn’t leave you if I tried,” you sang the 70s ballad at him with a large smile.

“You’re beautiful!” He told you over the music.

You both swayed for a moment or so, flustered and laughing at yourselves. Once the song ended, the three or four people watching chuckled with you. Talking about how they remembered when that song had come out.

When you returned to you seats at the bar, you both drank for awhile and made small talk about life. Joe brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face back, making you smile and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I like hanging out with you,” you confessed.

It felt like such a small statement, something a sixteen year old would utter to her crush. It was how you felt, though. Joe lit up some suppressed youth within you, he made you feel like a young girl just coming into herself. He was older than you, more mature, well established. It made you question what he saw in you in the first place.

“I like hanging out with you too,” he said in almost a whisper. “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

Nodding, he walked to the back of the bar. He left his phone face up. His wallpaper was a photo of him and Ja’Marr Chase at the Super Bowl last season. It was sweet, they seemed very close.

A minute or so passed and his phone went off with two texts, one after the other. It felt disrespectful to glance and read them, but anyone would’ve. He left his phone when he could’ve easily grabbed it.

Ava: Missing you.

Ava: Come over?

There was a sudden lurching in your stomach, like you were going to be sick or something. The feeling lasted for a few seconds, leaving you to pull out your own phone and open the Uber app.

“How much was the tab?” You asked the woman, handing her your card and signing all within the span of about a minute.

“You alright, honey?” She asked, watching you grab your clutch to leave.

No.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

Walking out the same way you came in was easy enough, the Uber would be a few minutes so you’d have to wait outside. You were angry, of course, but more so just hurt and upset over the fact that you thought he was actually interested in you.

This was your fault. Your own naive stupidity. This was a twenty five year old NFL quarterback, what the fuck would he want with you? Sex, clearly. That much was obvious. In the end, Joe wasn’t your boyfriend. Not at all, not even a little bit. He was some guy who you barely knew, some guy you’d maybe even misjudged a little bit.

Leaning against the brick of the building, you felt the tears begin to well up. How could you be so fucking stupid?

“Y/N?” Joe came up the steps. “What’s wrong? What’re you doing?”

“Fuck you, Joe,” you sighed into your hands. “I mean seriously, what the fuck do you get out of stringing me along while you’ve already clearly got a girlfriend or a fuck buddy at least!”

He looked confused, a line forming between his eyebrows when suddenly realization washed over him. He got sort of pale all of sudden, embarrassment flushing his face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that. I promise you, it’s not like that with her. There’s more to the situation—”

“Go to hell, Joe,” you sniffled. “Or better, go see Ava. She misses you.”

He stood there silent for a moment, unable to find the words to express how sorry he was for how he made you feel. He could see through the yellow hue of the streetlight that you were crying. His fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm, cursing himself for not bringing his phone into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re sorry I saw,” you spit back. “Get the fuck away from me, Joe. I’m taking an Uber home.”

“Let me drive you home, at least. If you never want to speak to me again after that, okay. Just let me take you home.”

When you said nothing, he knew that was it. He’d have to accept defeat there. Anything he said would make it worse, seeing as there really wasn’t a way to make the situation better. There was no excuse, no way to make you see his point of view.

The silence between you was hard and rigid, the only sound being the ambiance of the outside and your occasional sniffling. The worst part was that he’d led you to believe he liked you. That was why it hurt so badly.

The sleek black SUV pulled up and you pushed off the wall you’d been leaning against. Not being able to bear giving Joe a second glance, you went straight to opening the door and hopping inside.

Joe didn’t try and stop you. It wasn’t his place. He only stood there under the streetlight, watching the car drive off and eventually disappear. He felt horrible, running a hand through his hair and walking towards the brick you’d just leaned against. Pressing his forehead to the cold structure, he tried to bring himself to some conclusion.

“Fuck,” was all he muttered.

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[nytb]

One Of Your Kind

A hopeless romantic lost in a world where everything seems transactional. Talented, tenacious, temporary. That was the best description of Y/N, an upcoming actress.

Playing the main character in am exploding Netflix Original series came with it's benefits. Invitations to the most prestigious fashion shows, VIP tickets for concerts, but most importantly - special treatment when it came to visiting Arsenal when Y/N so wished.

Realising how much of a football fanatic Y/N was came as a sweet surprise. Childhood fotos wearing the Arsenal kit, following the whole women and men's squad on social media, interactions with the players, a true gunner.

Y/N was known to visit the Emirates Stadium, but she was a regular at Meadow Park, having a soft spot for the women's team.

Having been introduced to Alex Scott, an Arsenal legend, Y/N had great company for the home games. The players got used to her regular assistance, getting post game chats with the star. Every encounter, everybody would end up fangirling on whoever they ended up talking to, but when it came to Y/N and Leah, they always managed to keep the chats down to earth, interesting, flirty but playful.

Over months, Y/N would bring her co-stars, friends, rumoured romances to watch Arsenal. Y/N's sexuality being mostly a secret to the public eye, fans would end up shipping their star with everybody she came in contact with. Leah wasn't an exception. The difference : Leah's fanbase.

Both groups managed to gel like they were supposed to merge into one, both sides cheering for the possibility of their favourite power-couple.

On a home game, the fandom's wishes became true - or as true as rumoured relationships get to be.

Leah's injury made her watch the games from the stands, but this time she was sat next to Y/N. Talking all throughout the game, cheering, screaming, complaining and shouting their lugs out together. The both of them seemed to have a great time, so much so, that a post match dinner became a requirement. This occurrence soon became a tradition, posting their evening shennanigans to their social medias.

After Leah's return from injury, Arsenal went on a winning streak, getting on a title chase against Manchester United. The gunners were the favourites, but when it came to facing the Red Devils, they had to show why they were backed by so many to win the league. Tied at 28 points with them and Chelsea - it was the gunner's chance to capitalise.

The match in itself wasn't as exciting as most had predicted, at least result wise. Sure, both teams getting their chances in front of goal, missing sitters, giving away dumb fouls, but it all ended on a narrow win for Arsenal. Some would agree that it was an undeserved one.

Post match, Leah was called for media duties. Y/N not far behind, hearing the Arsenal's captain defend her girls to the press "It wasn't a great match, but in times like these, we have to regroup, correct our mistakes and grow as a team" she declared before saying her goodbyes to the press.

"Not happy about the game huh" Y/N stated, keeping her eyes to the ground, knowing that Leah wouldn't be in a great mood after her team's performance.

"We are better than that you know" Leah seamed angry, but kept her tone very calm around Y/N "I won't let that take anything away from tonight though" the midfielder added opening her car door for the actress.

"Quite the gentlewoman I got here" replied, giving Leah a kiss on the cheek before getting into the midfielders car "So, where are we off to tonight?" Y/N questioned the Arsenal skipper as she entered the drivers seat "I'm feeling sushi tonight" she answered "How about we go to your favourite sushi place?", a suggestion that came with implications.

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked "People have been narrowing in on us you know" It was true, at some point, so many outings together started to make less sense when both chucked it down to being just friends. Especially when most of these outings were of just the two of them. "What could go wrong?" Leah asked, a mischevious look in her face.

What about a whole lot - paparazzis flooding the restaurants entrance as the outing became public knowledge. Going out with famous people sure got thrilling, but leaving places out the back door to avoid paps wasn't as glamorous.

"Ok.. in hindsight" Leah grabbed onto Y/N's hands "it might have been a silly idea" she joked, trying to lighten the mood from a night that was clearly turning sour by the minute "Why are we hiding this" Y/N questioned, pointing to the both of them. Leah left speechless. Was there a reason? They surely knew what they were getting into after the first couple of dates... right?

"Now that you ask..." the midfielder rambled "we never really talked about what we are" she struggled to get words out. Y/N on the other hand had enough courage for the both of them "Well after the what... 20 dates?" Y/N guessed, having lost the count of the sleepless nights spent in Leah's apartment "I kinda guessed that we were well into dating" she finished, clearly not scared about the consequences this situationship would entail.

"So you would just.. tell them that? It's surely not that simple" the midfielder clearly had forgotten that like everyone else, Y/N was a person first. "You do know that I am one of your kind right?" Y/N joked getting herself ready to face the media "Let's get into trouble shall we"

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Woman of the Night | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Wanda has kept what she does for a living a secret from you the entire time you’ve been together.  The night you accidentally find out changes everything.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, mild language, age gap (Wanda is 38, R is 25), suggestive content, minors DNI

Word Count: 4.9K

Masterlist

A/N: I’d like to thank @cthulhus-curse for uttering three words that changed my world: Stripper MILF Wanda.  I give them full credit for this amazing idea. They have their own INCREDIBLE fic called “Cherry Waves” which y’all should check out too!  Enjoy!

Taking one final look in the mirror before you left your apartment, you nervously tousled your hair for the millionth time.  It wasn’t every day you had a first date.  In fact, it had been a couple of years since you had gone on any sort of date at all.  

It’s not that you didn’t want to date: after graduating from college and getting a job as an accountant at one of the Tri-State Area’s most prestigious law firms, it wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.  The tipping point was when one of your closest friends from college, Steve, got engaged to his longtime girlfriend.  He was the first of your friends to get married.  It didn’t matter that he was a few years older than you, or that they’d been together for almost a decade, you suddenly felt the need to keep up with the Joneses.

You’d never tried dating apps before, so you downloaded the first one you saw.  As you created your profile, you saw the general age range was set from 18-49.  What the heck, you thought, deciding not to change it.  Age gaps didn’t really bother you.

Once your profile was set up, you flopped down onto your bed.  Pictures of different women flashed across your screen.  It turned you off almost instantaneously.  It all seemed so transactional, swiping one way or another simply based on her looks and a few generic questions.  You lazily flicked through them swiping left or right haphazardly until a certain redhead caught your eye.

The woman was absolutely gorgeous.  Her profile picture was her sitting on the beach gazing out over the ocean.  Her red hair cascaded down her body, accented by the dep blue waves crashing against the sand and the clear blue sky.  Her emerald green eyes were stunning.  You saw those in the next picture, a candid shot of her popping a bottle of champagne.  There was no doubt that she was hands down the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

You scanned her profile and learned that her name was Wanda, she was 38, and that she lived in Westview.  It didn’t phase you that she was 13 years older than you, you swiped right anyways.  Much to your surprise the app announced that you two were a match.  Your face burned red knowing that she swiped right on you first.  Had she felt the same way when she saw you?  Did the world around her come to a complete standstill as she swiped through your pictures?  God you hoped so.

After a few brief text exchanges, Wanda agreed to meet you for drinks after she got out of work on Saturday.  She agreed to meet you at one of your favorite bars.  You hoped Wanda wouldn’t find it too immature.  That was your biggest worry: that she’d find you too childish for her liking.  Those thoughts danced through your mind while you waited for her.  You threw back the shot of vodka you ordered in one gulp, the liquor burning your throat as it traveled down to your stomach.  There was no way you’d be able to do this totally sober.

“Y/N?”

You spun around as a voice you never heard before called your name.  It was her.  It had to be.  A voice that sweet and melodic could only belong to her.  As you turned you locked eyes with the emerald ones that had infiltrated the depths of your consciousness for the better part of a week.  They were even more mesmerizing in person.

“Wanda?”  You managed to choke out, disguising your dumbstruck awe as a cough.

“Hi!” she responded enthusiastically, taking her coat off and slinging it over the empty stool next to her.  “Sorry I’m a little late.  I got stuck at work,” she apologized while she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s okay,” you replied in earnest.

The two of you soon fell into an easy rhythm of conversation.  Wanda was surprisingly easy to talk to.  She told you all about herself. How she was divorced from her husband and raising her twin boys, Billy and Tommy, by herself.  Her strength and courage impressed you.  She was also uncommonly kind and had a wicked sense of humor.  She told jokes that made even you blush.

“So what do you do for work?” she asked, swirling her lipstick stained straw around her drink.  

“I’m an accountant at a law firm.  Nelson and Murdock.  Have you heard of them?” Wanda shook her head as you took another sip of your beer.  “It’s a good job.  Good pay, good people, good vacation time…that’s all that really matters in a job, right?”

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head at your youthful optimism.  She found the straw without breaking eye contact with you.  You swallowed hard as she stared at you with a twinkle in her eye, the room growing hotter by the second.  “So what do you do?”

Wanda sucked her drink a little faster, pausing as she came up for air.  Her confident demeanor faltered ever so slightly.  She tilted her head, thinking before she spoke.

“I’m a secret agent with the CIA.  So I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”  She shot you a knowing wink before she motioned to the bartender for another drink.  The way Wanda completely avoided the subject told you the real answer was more complicated than she was willing to let on.

When Wanda told you she wanted to see you again, you were equally relieved and ecstatic.  That first date was an undeniable success, as made evident by the way she slammed you up against a dumpster behind the bar and crashed her lips into yours.  The sensation of her soft lips against yours was pure ecstasy.  You were grateful for both the dumpster and the tight grip you had on her hips because you were sure your knees would give out otherwise.

Over the next few months, you saw each other as much as you could, which wasn’t enough for either of you.  Wanda was simultaneously balancing a demanding work schedule with being a single mother and you were drowning in quarterly reports.  Yet through the late night trysts, stolen moments, phone calls, text messages, and video chats, one thing never changed: Wanda never revealed what she actually did.  Any mention of it was met with a sarcastic remark and a different answer every time.  It didn’t bother you too much, but you wondered what she did that made her not want to tell you about it.

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

“Okay we’ve got the steaks, we’ve got the cigars, we’ve got the booze, we’ve got Bucky’s Gamecube, all we need is the stripper,” Sam rattled off as he went down the checklist.

“Woah!” you interjected as you ripped the list from him.  “Steve’s not gonna want a stripper.  Come one, we all know the guy’s a total square when it comes to that sort of stuff.”

“You, sir, need to learn to live a little,” Bucky chided as he smacked your shoulder.  The three of you had taken it upon yourselves to plan Steve’s bachelor party.  The lot of you had met in college.  Steve was a grad student and Bucky and Sam were upperclassmen when you met them your freshman year on the rugby team.  While Bucky and Sam were the party animals of the group, you and Steve weren’t.  Steve was the clean cut one, which led to rumors that he was secretly a Mormon or Quaker or something like that.  But they were just rumors.  The truth of the matter was that Steve simply wasn’t interested in that sort of stuff.  He’d be thrilled with steaks, beer, cigars, and video games at his bachelor party.  But a stripper?

“I don’t know, guys.  I’m not sure it’s the best idea.”

“Steve said he was down for anything when I asked, so technically it’s his own fault,” Sam smirked.  You chuckled, letting out an exasperated sigh as you shook your head.  There was no way of talking Sam and Bucky out of this insane idea.

“I mean, you got me there, Sam,” you relented.  “You guys know any good ones?”

The three of you grabbed your phones, looking up the best reviewed strip clubs in the area.  If Steve’s bachelor party was going to have a stripper, then you were going to have the best stripper you could afford.

“Oh here’s one!” Bucky shouted.  “Wait nevermind.  We can’t afford that.”

“What about this one? Top Notch Stippers?  They’ve got great reviews and they’re more affordable than the other place,” Sam suggested.  You plopped over on the arm of the chair and peered over his shoulder.

“Cool!  Let’s book it!” Bucky exclaimed.

Sam dialed the number and promptly thrust the phone in your face.  “Thanks,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Top Notch Strippers, this is Kelly speaking, how may I help you?” a perky voice asked from the other end of the line.

“Uh, yeah…I need to book someone for a bachelor party next Saturday night…please.”  You heard the clacking of a keyboard over the line.

“Great!  Is there any one of our performers you’d like to request?”

The question made you freeze.  God, this was so awkward.  Your face reddened with embarrassment.  “Umm, how about your best one?” you managed to squeak out.  “It’s, uhh, it’s my buddy’s bachelor party.”  You didn’t know why you felt the need to explain yourself to the woman on the other end.

“Gotcha.  She’s a good one, too.  Everybody loves her.”  You smiled weakly.  “Now what’s the address and what time?”

“Umm, 9 pm?”  Bucky and Sam nodded.  “Yeah 9.  And the address is, uhh…” “247 Westbrook Drive,” Sam whispered.

“247 Westbrook Drive,” you blurted.  Another moment of silence told you she was inputting all of your information.

“And can I get a name and phone number?”

“Sam Wilson, and the number is…”  Sam slapped his forehead and Bucky stifled a laugh by biting his fist while you gave Kelly Sam’s name and number.”

“Okay great.  So your total of $800 will be due in cash the night of the event and that doesn’t include any tips or gratuities.  A security guard will accompany her for her safety, which is standard protocol for every performance.  If you need to cancel or reschedule, just give us at least 24 hours notice.”

“Great, okay, thanks then,” you replied before hanging up and tossing Sam back his phone.

“Why’d you give my name, man?” Sam whined as he caught it.

“Because it’s your house, dumbass,” you joked.  “Oh, and it’s 800 bucks, so cough it up, assholes.”  

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

“So I’ll see you after the party then?” you asked Wanda.

“Yeah.  I’m working tonight so I got a sitter for the boys.  But they should be asleep by the time you get there.  And-”

“I know, I know.  Leave before they wake up and find their mom in bed with a strange man,” you smirked as you emptied a bag of ice into the cooler.

“I promise you’ll meet them soon, Y/N.  I just don’t want to rush them.”  That was the main reason Wanda hadn’t introduced you to them in your four months of dating.  It had been less than two years since their dad completely walked out on them and it was still a sore subject of contention.  Wanda worried that if you two didn’t work out for whatever reason they’d end up heartbroken all over again.

“Wanda, it’s okay!  Really!  I don’t want to rush you at all.  I’ll meet them when I meet them!”  You balanced your phone between your shoulder and ear as you emptied a box of beer cans into the cooler.

“What did I ever do to deserve a boyfriend as sweet as you?”  Her voice was sweet as honey through the phone, causing you to melt.  For as much as you adored Wanda she adored you even more.  She made you smile, really smile, for the first time in your life.

“Hey listen I’ve gotta run,” you apologized as Bucky screamed about something going on with the grill while Sam ran around with the fire extinguisher.  “I think Bucky’s trying to blow the place up.”

“Have fun playing fire marshall,” Wanda giggled.  “I’ll see you tonight.”

After stopping Bucky from burning himself, you took over grill duty as the rest of your friends arrived.  Steve showed up last, sheepishly accepting the taunts and applause from his groomsmen.

The evening was spent grilling, smoking, drinking, and racing Mario Kart on Bucky’s Gamecube.  Steve was having an absolute blast, remaining totally ignorant to the performance that was looming overhead.  As 9 pm grew closer, you grew more anxious.  It was your head on the chopping block if this went south.

At 8:55 the doorbell rang.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked.  “Don’t tell me you ordered pizza after all that food, Buck.”

“Nah, it’s the stripper,” Bucky answered, deeply engrossed in the race as his Waluigi overtook Scott Lang’s Wario for the lead.

“Ha!  Good one!” Steve laughed as he took a swig of his beer.

“Can someone go let-damn it, Scott!-Can someone go let her in?!” Sam yelled as his Yoshi slipped on a banana peel.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.  Where’s her money?” You stood up, searching around the room for the envelope with the money Sam and Bucky ponied up.

“It’s in my butt!” Sam leaned onto one side of his butt, the folded envelope peeking out of his back pocket.  You snatched it from him and jogged to the door.

“Hold on!” you shouted as the bell rang a second time.  A rush of anxiety pulsed through you as you saw a silhouette through the frosted glass.  But there was nothing that could prepare you for what you saw when you opened the door.

“Sup?  I’m Pietro.  I’m working security tonight.”  A tall, somewhat lanky man with half bleached hair stuck his hand out at you.  “Are you Sam?”

“What?” You were slightly taken aback.  “Oh, no.  I’m Y/N.  Sam’s inside playing Mario Kart with the rest of the guys.  You’re not, umm…you know…” You peered around him, searching for another body.

“What, the stripper?  No way broski, that’s way too much work,” Pietro laughed.  “She’s on her way.  Her babysitter was a little late.”

“Oh, okay.  Well, why don’t you go inside then?  There’s steak and beer if you want some.  I can wait out here for her.” “Thanks, but I’ll pass on the refreshments.  I’ll go in and read ‘em the riot act, but if you’re gonna wait for her, here it is: do not touch her, do not call her anything of a degrading nature, do not film or take pictures of her, and tip generously.  Put a toe out of line and I’ll put you in traction, understood?”  Pietro’s laid back demeanor completely shifted as he slipped into guard mode.  The subtle shift in his face told you that he meant business.  You gulped, nodding overenthusiastically.  “Alright, man!  You said they’re all inside?” As fast as he shifted into guard mode he shifted back again.   “Yeah, they’re racing Mario Kart.  The party’s for Steve, by the way.  It’s just Sam’s house we’re using.”

“Sweet!” Pietro slapped you on the back.  “Lemme know when she gets here,” he asked before swaggering into the house.  Seeing as you were all alone, you sat in the rocking chair and waited.  Before long, a car pulled into the driveway.  It skidded to a stop as you stood, watching the dark figure inside rummage around for something before opening the door.

“Sorry I’m late.  My babysitter was late and I couldn’t leave until she-” The woman, dressed in normal clothes and carrying a backpack, jogged up the steps of the porch and froze when she saw you.  As your eyes focused in the dim light, you understood why.

It was Wanda.

“Wanda?” Your brain exploded.  Words left you as you stared in horror at your girlfriend.  

“Oh no,” she whispered as she dropped her eyes to the ground and covered her face with her hand.

An awkward pause settled between the two of you as you both stared at the ground.  Of all the things Wanda could be, this was certainly not on your list of choices.  The entire situation felt surreal, like you were watching the scene from above while your body simply went through the motions.

“So, umm, this is what you actually do then?” You finally broke the silence, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck.

“Y/N-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?  I mean it’s not a big deal.  I just didn’t expect, y’know, this whole ‘woman of the night’ thing.”  

“Woman of the night thing?  Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Wanda scoffed.  An incredulous look spread over her face as she recoiled in anger at your words.  “I’m a stripper, not a prostitute!  See, this is why I didn’t tell you.  Because this is the reaction I get from every guy I’ve tried to date!  They freak out, call me a slut, and that’s it!”

“So were you planning on just never telling me then?  Just avoid the topic completely?” You stepped closer to her, your faces dangerously close as you felt your own rage burning.  “How am I supposed to trust you if you can’t be honest with me?”

“I wanted to tell you, Y/N, I really did, but this isn’t the way I wanted you to find out.”  She pinched her brow in exasperation as she turned away from you.  “Look, can we talk about this later?”

You thrust the envelope at her.  “Here’s your cash.  Pietro’s inside.  I’m gonna go.  They’re back in the living room.”  You opened the door for her, pushing past her as she entered.

“Hate to do this, but I’ve gotta dip.  Family emergency,” you lied grabbing your hat and keys off the counter.  “Steve, enjoy.  Sam, text you later.”

“Everything good, man?” Bucky called as you sped down the hallway.

“Yeah, don’t worry.  Have fun!”  Wanda shot you a desperate, almost pleading look as you raced by.  She was incredibly hurt by your words.  You’d discovered her most intimate secret, something she shared equal parts pride and shame about, in the worst possible way and reacted the way she feared you would.  You simply looked the other way.

You sat in your car absolutely frozen.  Wanda was in a room with your best friends doing what she apparently did best.  Kelly did say everyone loved her.  So did you.  Four short months and you were already head over heels in love with her.  There were so many conflicting feelings over this new revelation.  It was dizzying, the way your head spun at the absurdity of it all.  Your older, divorced, mother-of-two girlfriend was a stripper and you had absolutely no idea until ten minutes ago.  Worst of all you were ashamed at the way you reacted.  You felt absolutely awful.  You’d insulted her, accused her, and then completely dismissed her.

You couldn’t go back in there, not after that.  And there was no way you could watch your girlfriend give your best friend a lap dance or whatever.  So you started the car and made the short drive over to Westview.

You arrived at Wanda’s house a short time later, parking your car next to the sitter’s.  A teenage girl appeared in the doorway, visibly confused at your appearance.

“Can I help you?” she called, cracking the screen door open slightly.

“Hey!  I’m Y/N.  Wanda’s my girlfriend.  I told her I’d come over after she got back, but I think I’m a bit early.”  You didn’t want to freak her out and you definitely didn’t want to let her know there was anything wrong.  The younger girl didn’t respond, staring at you with a keen sense of distrust.  “Look, I’m just gonna wait outside, okay?  I’ll wait on the porch.  You can text her if you want, she’ll tell you I’m okay.”  You cautiously stepped toward the porch.  She looked at you warily, sizing you up as she let the door shut.  You heard a soft click as she locked it behind you.  Sighing, you plopped on the top step and stared out into the clear dark night.

The bright glow of headlights jolted you awake as a car pulled into the drive.  You must’ve nodded off as you waited for Wanda to return home.  Both the porch light and headlights illuminated Wanda’s frame as she got out of the car.  She slung her backpack over one shoulder and carried a pair of stilettos in the other.  Her face seemed to carry the weight of the world in every crevice.

“You scared Kate a bit,” she said, giving you a half smile.  “She called me all freaked out saying there was some weirdo claiming to be my boyfriend sitting on the porch, but that he couldn’t be my boyfriend because he was a literal child.”

“Cradle robber,” you joked.  Wanda’s shoulders shrugged in a halfhearted chuckle.  The tension between the two of you was unspoken but completely evident.  Your stomach fluttered with butterflies as you thought of the impending conversation.  You prayed that you hadn’t completely fucked things up between the two of you.  

“Do you want to come in?”

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

You sat in the kitchen, pushing around the leftover piece of pie Wanda set in front of you as she poured herself a large glass of wine.  Although it was your favorite, you weren’t feeling all too hungry.  There were so many things you wanted to say to her but you didn’t know how or where to start.  

Wanda took a large gulp from her glass, sighing as she set it down on the counter.  “So I guess you probably want to know about the whole-”

“Wanda-”

“I’m not proud of it, okay?  Do you honestly think that I wanted to do this for a living?”

“Wanda-”

“I don’t like it like I did when I was younger, Y/N, but it’s allowed me to give the boys a much better life than I had growing up, even as a single mother,” she snapped.  

“Wanda-” you tried for a third time to interrupt her, but she cut you off again.

“Look, I started stripping in college to make some extra spending money, okay?  I went to an open call on a whim and booked it.  And I liked it. I kept doing it even after I graduated.  Vision was in grad school and his stipend and my first year teacher’s salary wasn’t cutting it.  I’d go straight from school to the club every single day.  I mean it was almost 20 hour days for a while.  But when I got pregnant with the boys I had to take a step back.  When I came back from maternity leave I knew there was no way I could keep doing that.  So I stopped.”  She took a long swig of the wine, her eyes squeezing shut as the tart liquid rolled down her throat.  “Vision never knew, of course.  Nobody did.  But when he left I had to do something.  So I went back.  I went back to the long days and the babysitters and pretending that everything’s okay.  That’s when I found out about the house calls.  Once I started doing those on top of club work I made more money than I ever dreamed of as a teacher.  So I quit to spend more time with the boys.”  

She looked down, her head bowed over the sink as she stretched her arms across the counter. You watched as she squeezed her eyes shut again.  She shook her head as she tried to clear the tears from her eyes.  “That’s why I can’t ever get past the third date with anyone,” Wanda sniffled.  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she turned around to lean against the counter.  “I’ve been called a lot worse than “woman of the night” before.”

The urge to curl up in a ball and disappear was all-consuming as Wanda reminded you of the way you degraded her.  There was no way you could ever take that back.  It was short-sighted and cruel, the way you had insulted her work.  She was so insecure about it, no matter how proud she might appear.  Worst of all was that you loved her.  You loved her in a way you never loved anyone else before and you hurt her.  While her stunning green eyes were normally a safe haven for you, tonight you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.

“Let’s be real here, Y/N.  I’ve got stretch marks and scars and reminders that I’m not getting any younger.  I’ve got two boys who are almost in middle school who have an absent father.  And my career is in no way conventional.  You could do so much better.  You’re young and handsome with a bright future ahead of you.  So if you want to leave, just…just go.  Please just go.”  She waved her hand as if to shoo you away.

“Wanda-” 

 “GO!” she snapped, her eyes brimming with tears.  Those stunning emerald orbs stung as they pierced your heart like daggers.  You stood up, pushing your plate away as the world crashed down around you.  This was it: she was done with you.  Done with the late night calls and secret sleepovers and good morning texts and flowers you sent her for no reason other than to say ‘I love you.’  

As you stormed down the hallway toward the front door, you paused as you reached the foyer.  Because it wasn’t too far away from the kitchen, you heard Wanda sobbing through the silence.  Your heart sank as you listened to the sniffles and gasps echo through the hallway.  Cautiously you tiptoed back towards the kitchen, peering around the corner to find Wanda hunched over the sink.  Her chest heaved as sobs wracked the room.  You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat before you walked up behind her and wrapped your arms around her midsection, resting your chin on her shoulder.  Your touch surprised her, and she grabbed your forearm as she continued to cry.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered in her ear as you held her tightly.  

“Please go,” she whispered.

“Mmm-mmm, you’re stuck with me.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.”  You lowered your head to kiss her neck, pulling her even closer as your lips trailed up and down her delicate skin.

“Really?”

“Really.”  You released her from your grip only to turn her around, pushing her up against the edge of the sink as your hands snaked down to her hips.  “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for the stupid shit I said.  Because I don’t care.  At all.  I’m in this for the long haul with you.  All I want is for us to be happy together.  Nothing is as important as that.”

Wanda smiled, her hands snaking up to rest around your neck as she pulled you close.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.  When I first met you I was scared that you’d leave if you knew, and I didn’t want you to leave because I really liked you.  You were the first decent guy I’d gone out with in a long time.  I couldn’t lose that…you never really brought it up so I decided that I wouldn’t either.  I’ve been trying to figure out how to do it because I’m tired of trying to sneak you around the boys all the time.” 

“You want me to meet the boys?”  Wanda nodded, smiling as she gazed into your eyes.  “So I don’t have to sneak out your window at some ungodly hour tomorrow morning?”

She pulled on your neck, reaching up to capture your lips in hers.  The combination of her sweet cherry chapstick and the salty remnants of her tears ignited a fury of desire within you.  You gripped her hips tighter, swiping your tongue over her bottom lip as she parted them slightly to allow your tongue to dance with hers.

“I am so in love with you,” you whispered as you broke apart, your lips so close together that yours tickled hers as you spoke.

“You are absolutely perfect,” she whispered back.  

The two of you stood there for what seemed like an eternity, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. The world stopped as you two simply existed.

“How about we go upstairs and I give you a little taste of what I do?” Wanda teased, a devilish spark in her eye.

“What about the rules?  Pietro said I’m not allowed to touch you,” you teased back.

“Oh you’re not.  But I will make sure to use your tip generously.”  Her sultry voice was hot against your ear as you groaned at her insinuation.  “Come on, handsome, let the Scarlet Witch take care of you.”

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Earned (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content, dom/sub foreplay Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After a bad day at work, Benedict intuits what you need to regain your confidence.

Author's Note: I don't know what this is. It just played out in my head tonight 🤷‍♀️ A little emotional dom filth.

Relief was already seeping in as you skipped up the stairs to his flat. Thank god this was one of your scheduled days. You would have been tempted to send him a desperate text otherwise. Your day had been so shitty, so full of blame and scorn and disappointment that it was making you question your worth in your profession. Though a decade of exceptional experience was there to prove you wrong, one error and one pissed off client was potent enough to nearly topple your self-esteem. You needed connection, release. Above all, you needed someone to value you.

A rapid knock on his door and he swung it open, a glass of whisky in hand, dressed in black with burning eyes. He was some kind of luciferian temptor and you were so grateful to have found him. He beckoned you inside and took your coat. His obnoxiously chic surroundings were bathed in dim light. This was your routine. He’d always be waiting for you in the glow, drink at the ready. It was transactional, but you liked that. No need to muddle through social niceties or feel out when the other person was ready to progress. You both knew precisely what you were there for, though you hadn’t given it a label. 

You had met through a string of acquaintances when someone told him to email you for professional advice. You hadn’t been able to help him but your written banter was so friendly it carried over into texts, then into a meeting where you were nearly paralyzed by how attractive he was. Tall, lean, cocksure with dark hair and sparkling eyes - he was a checklist of everything you found attractive. It was hard to say at what point the text conversations turned dirty. He probably tried to one-up you in a playful sparring match by suddenly issuing commands. All you knew was that your hands started shaking with excitement when you realized he was a dom. You went along eagerly, elated to have found a man, and one as unbelievably handsome as him, that you could play with. The texts soon turned into sessions, the two of you giving over to the full expression of your sexual desires with a freedom you had never experienced before. He made you want him more desperately and come more relentlessly than any predecessor. He was an addiction, a cure-all that soon became a necessary realignment for your brain and body to function normally otherwise.

He snaked a broad hand up the curve of your shoulder, under your hair to your nape and rounded to stand in front of you. His eyes were full of menace but it melted away immediately once he read your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly.

Not a commanding opener but truth be told, this was why you adored him so much. He was intuitive, an interpreter of your moods who never failed to give you the precise cocktail of control and praise you needed. You knew you must have looked as awful as you felt.

You closed your eyes, annoyed to feel the hot sting of tears at their edges. “Please, Ben,” you pleaded. And that was all you had to say. You opened your eyes at the sound of his footsteps walking away. He moved to the coffee table in the lounge and set down his drink, then turned to you again. His face was set in that beautiful mask of control you had been longing for all day. All angled shadows and glints of light off his eyes and hair.

“Take off your dress.” He growled. 

Without a moment’s hesitation you unzipped it and pulled it over your head.

“Shoes.”

You stepped out of your heels, now standing in his entryway in nothing but your bra and knickers. 

“Will you do as you’re told?” He arched a brow. It wasn’t a real question, it was a signal. The official start of playtime. Nearly shivering with gratitude, you sank to your knees in a submissive pose, lowering your head until further instruction was given.

Slowly, he traipsed back to tower in front of you. You almost wept when you felt the spread of his massive hand rest gently on the top of your head. He trailed it through your hair and around to cup your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. 

“Are you a needy little thing tonight?” Set under his stern brow, his eyes lit with concern. It never ceased to amaze you how he could do that, hold multiple expressions simultaneously. He was playing his role, but his attentiveness was undeniable.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, your voice small.

“Did you do something bad?” There he went, intuiting everything just the way you needed him to. Still holding your chin he slipped his thumb between your lips. You welcomed it into your mouth as he hooked it against your bottom teeth, letting you suckle. It was cool from the ice in his glass. You nodded and looked up at him, eyes begging for absolution.

“So you want forgiveness?” His voice was a soft rumble.

You licked the tip of his finger and pulled back. “I want to please you, sir. I want to know I did a good job.”

He released his hold. “Go get my drink.” 

You started to rise to your feet.

“Did I say you could stand?” He barked and immediately you dropped back to your knees. A shiver curved your spine and broke gooseflesh across your skin as you began to crawl on all fours into the lounge. This was what you needed. Subjugation. Punishment. To be told what to do by someone you actually respected, with the reassurance that you would always be rewarded in the end. This was the realignment necessary to overcome the wretchedness of your day.

You felt his gaze burning into your backside and made sure to crawl as sensually as you could, swaying your hips until you reached the coffee table. You hadn’t realized he was following softly behind you until you picked up the glass of whisky and felt a hand on your waist. You froze, balancing on three limbs while you held the drink in the other. His fingers splayed across your bottom, kneading it as you felt him crowd over you. He was on his knees too, lying across your back and enveloping you with his heat.

“So you want to do a good job?” He murmured in your ear. He was so all-encompassing, his voice so laden with silk and dark promise that you faltered, locking your elbow. “Don’t spill.” He chuckled. Then the hand moved to trace the gusset of your underwear, already damp from his commands alone. You could hear the haughty smile in his voice as he shoved the fabric aside and slid two fingers into your folds. “How about you take all of me in here?” he hummed. “You are so very good at that. Lie back and do a good job just letting me fuck you senseless.” His teeth clamped on the rim of your ear.

His touch instantly clouded your mind, your hips already gyrating to match his movements. But you knew you needed to be more than just a recipient of his attentions that night. You needed to work for your own redemption. 

“Sir…” you slurred as his slender fingers began circling your clit.

“Speak up.” His other hand suddenly tugged your hair, bending your neck until you faced forward.

“I want to…I’d like it to be my actions that bring you pleasure.” You gasped.

Your hair was released but he toyed with your swollen bud for a moment longer. “I see.” With an air of nonchalance he removed his hand and stood. “Turn around and give me my whisky.” You did so, pivoting to kneel before him and offer up the glass with both hands. You felt like a supplicant, bringing offerings to a god in hopes that your soul would be cleansed. 

“Excellent,” he grinned his ruinous crooked smile. “Already you are doing so well.” He lifted the glass from your hands to his lips. You breathed heavily, acutely aware of the slick mess he had caused between your thighs as you watched him down the dark liquor in one swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously in the center of his strong neck.

With a satisfied sigh he looked back at you and licked his lips. You knew it was more intentional than reflexive, but it worked to make you clench.

“How else do you want to please me?” he asked, his voice the very definition of sin.

You were completely in his thrall, completely uninhibited in sharing your true desires. “I’d like to suck your cock, sir.”

He smirked, bringing a hand to rest on your head. “Oh yes? You want this?” In one fluid motion he guided your face into the seam of his expensive trousers, thrusting his hips lightly so you could feel his stiffening cock through the fine fabric. 

You nuzzled into it, your favorite plaything, practically salivating as the heat and scent of him flooded your senses. “Yes, sir.” 

He continued to grind into your face, his long fingers mussing your hair. “You want to serve me on your knees and choke on my cock until I am satisfied? Until you know you’ve earned my approval because I’m coming down your throat?”

“Yes, sir, very much,” you moaned, ready to start licking him through his clothing. You had been thinking about this all day, craving the taste of Benedict, the fullness of him in your mouth and the encouraging, needy noises he would make as you proved your talent. In the morass of your awful day, all you had wanted was to be the sole focus of someone powerful who would be awed by your abilities and loud with their appreciation.

He pulled back, clearly aroused but not letting his veneer slip. His hand dropped to stroke your cheek and he held your gaze intently. “Alright. How can I refuse? You are so very good at what you do.” He leaned closer, his voice commanding but his eyes carrying that same softness that he could never disguise. “I never want you questioning that, do you understand?”

You whimpered, overcome by a swirling gale of gratitude and lust. With his incredible beauty and predilection for play that was compatible with yours, you were already lucky enough to find Benedict as a partner. You could never have expected that he would bring his kindness into your sessions as well. That he would use his incomparable knack for ferreting out your true needs and fulfill them with his words, his body, or both simultaneously. The events of the day had made you question whether fate was on your side, but looking at Benedict silenced those doubts immediately.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, vowing to obey.

With a smile he straightened and reached for his fly.

No tags, just goofin.

[ramblingoak]

Satan’s Toy Box

Hello anon!  Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy what I came up with!  

~ As the owner of the local sex toy shop you find yourself developing a crush on a Cardinal from the local Satanic church ~

The prompt was: attempting to find out if they are single/available

Cardinal Copia x GN Reader (nsfw, 18+, mdni)

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Today was going to be the day.

You had been working up the courage for months at this point, ever since the man had first walked into your store.  He was definitely handsome, if a little old fashioned.  Not many people sported sideburns and mustaches anymore, but he pulled them both off.  It made him seem distinguished, especially with the salt and pepper strands creeping in at his temples. 

He was older than who you usually went for.  Of course maybe that was a good idea given your recent track record.  It seemed like most people your age weren’t ready to settle down yet.  You weren’t exactly looking to settle down yourself, the thought of a white picket fence and 2.5 kids was vaguely terrifying if you were being honest.  Unfortunately the main obstacle in your dating life was where you worked: Satan’s Toy Box.

It was rather irritating how fast some people would leave after learning you owned a sex supply shop.  You really didn’t know what the big deal was.  Some people were still way too hung up on topics surrounding sex.  It seemed like you either got people that were immediately turned off at the news or they thought you personally experimented with every item you sold.

Although honestly that wasn’t too far from the truth.

I mean, you had your limits, but you were taught that it was important for a business owner to know their product.  First hand experience and all that.  So if your products happened to be sex toys, so be it.  You’d never been one to shy away from some adventure in the bedroom.  Or out of it even.

Setting up shop in a town that also had a Satanic Church had seemed like a brilliant idea.  Kind of like Girl Scouts selling cookies right outside pot dispensaries.  It was a match made in Heaven.  Well, Hell.  Whatever.  Anyway, the various church members were regulars in your shop.  Siblings of Sin as they were called, people in masks called Ghouls, a few men in skull paint that called themselves ‘Papa’ and the man you had been trying to build up the courage to ask out: Cardinal Copia.

So yes, when Copia had waltzed into your store for the first time in a tight red suit you had been immediately interested.  He cut an interesting figure, what with the facial hair and the paint around his eyes and on his upper lip.  You had been behind the front counter and called out a welcome, but the poor man had been startled at your sudden voice and walked right into a display of neon butt plugs.

His cheeks had turned the same color of his suit and he tripped over an apology while trying to pick up the display.  You had rushed over to help, assuring him it was no problem while desperately trying not to stare at his face.  His Italian accent was giving you thoughts and it was possible when your hands both reached for the same neon pink butt plug you already had hearts in your eyes.

It was like you were starring in a Hallmark movie.

After everything had been cleaned up he had introduced himself and mentioned he was there to pick up an order for the church.  The transaction had gone quickly, only a little small talk before he had left with his large order of lube.  It was really adorable how often he felt the need to clarify it was for the church and not just him.  Like it mattered to you, you liked a man that was prepared.

By now though months had passed and you were fairly embarrassed with yourself that you hadn’t asked him out yet.  You just kept thinking he probably had some cute young sibling at the abbey.  Probably multiple siblings.  Why would he want to settle with one person when he was surrounded by beautiful people literally there to sin 24/7?  Plus you didn’t want to make things awkward, he was a regular customer after all. 

It’s just…what if he was interested as well?  He definitely had a flirty vibe whenever you spoke, but it’s possible he was just being nice.  There had been a few times he’d come in with some of the Ghouls and both times it looked like they had been arguing, only speaking in fierce whispers.  You wouldn’t have necessarily thought it was about you, but the last time they had been in the shop you overheard one of them tell Copia to ‘grow a pair’.

That had been what really drove you to decide that today was it, you were going to ask Cardinal Copia out on a date.  He was going to (maybe) say yes, you both would later have (probably) amazing sex and then in a year or so you’d (possibly) have that white picket fence everyone seemed to be clamoring for.  Or whatever the Satanic equivalent was, you weren’t going to be picky.

You had been doing laps around the shop all morning.  Dusting shelves and straightening products.  Making sure the movies were organized by genre and then alphabetized within each section.  The store hadn’t even been this clean when you first opened it.  As you made another meandering lap by the front door you stopped when you heard raised voices.

Creeping closer you peeked through the window expecting to see maybe a group of religious nuts or protestors, something you’d unfortunately dealt with before.  Instead what you saw was the Cardinal and a few of the Ghouls seemingly arguing with each other.  Not really wanting them to continue making a scene on the sidewalk, you swung the door open to ask if everything was ok, but Copia’s raised voice stopped you in your tracks.

“For the last time I’m not a virgin!”

Copia’s back was to you as he faced the other two, but you could see him tense up when the sound of the bell on your door registered.  One of the Ghoul’s immediately hung their head, the other covered their mouth with their hands to try and hide their laughter.  Honestly you wanted to laugh too, you could only imagine the look on poor Copia’s face.  He slowly turned around and his shoulders sagged when he saw you.  

“Good to know, Cardinal.”  You felt a little bad teasing him, but you also could have said something much, much worse.  He was lucky you liked him so much.  “Come on in!  I’ve got your order ready for you.”

You heard him mutter something to the Ghouls but they all trailed behind you inside the store.  The Ghouls took off to different corners, but Copia stayed behind you.  When he cleared his throat you turned nearly causing him to run into you.

“Cara mia, I’m not.  Uh, you know.”

“You’re not what?”

“A virgin.”

You gave him a soft smile, really it didn’t matter to you either way.  Experienced lovers were great but being able to teach someone was also great.  Really, really great.

“Oh well, it’s ok if you are.  I won’t judge.”

Copia fidgeted for a moment and reached a hand out to rest it on the nearby butt plug display.  The damn thing wasn’t very sturdy to do that, which he should know, so a few of the plugs fell off and clattered onto the floor.  You dug your teeth into your lip to stop from laughing, watching as he hurried to pick them up and get them back where they belonged.

“That’s very kind of you, but again, I’m not.”

He got everything back in place and then brushed his hands on the front of his suit, awkwardly resting them on his hips when he was done.  You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over him for a moment because really, those suits were a gift.  When Copia cleared his throat you quickly looked back up at his face.

“Ok.  Um, cool.”

God, why were you still talking about this?  Cool?  He would never agree to go on a date with you now.  You sighed and gave him a brief smile before turning to get behind the counter and grab the church’s delivery.  ‘Yeah it’s super cool you aren’t a virgin, here’s the ten bottles of lube you ordered, have a great time’.  You were such an idiot.  Grunting you picked up the box and then set it on the counter. 

“Uh, actually, I had something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”  You glanced up from the box, watching as he nervously rubbed his hands together.  What could he possibly be nervous about?  He opened his mouth to continue but one of the Ghoul’s jogged up and slammed something down next to the box.

“Hey Boss, found the tentacle dildo you wanted.”

Copia immediately let loose a string of Italian and shoved the Ghoul away.

“For fucks sake Dewdrop would you piss off?!  Aether!”  The other Ghoul hurried up to the front, taking one look at the dildo then at the other Ghoul and sighed.

Aether grabbed the box and shoved it into Dewdrop’s hands.  He then grabbed the Ghoul by his shoulders and started pulling him out of the store.  Dewdrop was dragging and kicking his feet as he went, one kick sending the butt plug display flying and really, maybe you should just put that thing out of its misery.  You looked over to Copia, his cheeks as red as his suit as he looked at all the plugs scattered across the floor.  Again.

“Kids these days, huh?”  

Copia snorted and when you made your way around to pick everything up he leaned down and started helping you.

“I’m sorry, cara mia.  The Ghouls are a little uh, rambunctious.”

“No worries, we’re old hands at fixing this thing by now.”

You turned to smile at him, your smile growing when you saw that his cheeks were still red.  He picked up the last plug on the floor, but stared down at it for a moment before speaking.

“I feel like I’m always bringing chaos with me when I visit.”  Copia nibbled his lip briefly before handing the plug over.  “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Oh if he only knew.  You stared at him for a moment, your mind going a mile a minute as you tried to get the courage to ask him out.

“Coffee?”

“Oh, si!  I can go get you a coffee!”

Shit.  You took a deep breath and reached a hand out to touch his arm.

“No, I meant, do you want to get a coffee…with me?”  Copia stood there for a moment, his mouth open and you instantly had a sinking feeling in your gut.  Fuck.  Ok, fuck.  That wasn’t what he meant, of course he would just want to go get you a coffee.  “I’m sorry, Cardinal!  That was unprofessional of me.  Just forget I said anything, let me get your receipt.”

As you started to rush by he shot out a hand and grasped your elbow.  You looked up at him, taking in his handsome features for what you hoped wasn’t the last time.

“What if I don’t want to?  Forget it, I mean.”

It took every ounce of self control you had not to start doing a little dance.

“So you do want to get coffee?  Together?”

“Si, si.  But I was actually hoping we could have dinner instead, would that be alright?”

Holy fuck.

“Yes!  I mean yes, dinner would be great.”

“Bene!  Molto bene.”  Copia was positively beaming at you and you probably looked exactly the same.  “Would tomorrow night work, cara?”

“Yes, that would be great.  I close at 6 so anytime after that.”

“Okie dokie, I will be here at 6.  Then dinner.”

You were afraid to open your mouth again and let out the ridiculous screeching sound you wanted to make so you just smiled wider and hurried off toward the counter.  When you turned with the receipt in your hand you bumped right into his chest, not realizing he had followed you.

“Oh, sorry Cardinal!”

Ugh, could you embarrass yourself any more today?  Copia didn’t seem bothered though, he took the receipt from you with one hand and with the other he pulled your hand to his mouth.  He placed a quick kiss on the back, smiling softly at you after.

“It’s Copia to you, cara mia.”  He dropped another kiss onto your hand and then slowly started walking backwards toward the door.  Copia looked a little smug watching as your hand remained frozen in the air.  “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

You were grinning like an idiot now, barely holding in the dreamy sigh that was desperately wanting to come out.  Copia gave you an equally goofy smile back and then spun on his heel to leave.  Unfortunately he ran right into the display again and once more your floor was covered in neon colored butt plugs.

Ok, maybe not exactly like a Hallmark movie, but close enough for you.

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